My first land-use
hearing speaking role was for a project that was also the largest of my
career. Almost 500 acres, 700 homes, a
golf course, and a spectacular setting.
Although I can’t find the post right now, I’ve previously written about
the walkable urbanist elements of the project, which were moderately acceptable
at conception but leaked away during implementation.
At the
hearing, the urbanist elements were still in the plan, but those elements, as
laudable as they were, weren’t what captured my attention that evening. It was the rancor of the neighborhood
opposition.
Knowing the
high level of interest in the hearing, the city had moved the hearing from the council
chambers to the public works building. Thus,
the five-person development team, of which I was the junior member, found
ourselves surrounded by two hundred noisy neighbors in an equipment bay that
normally housed maintenance vehicles.
Even as the
team made their presentation, the leader of the neighbors paced at the back of
the room, gesturing with his clipboard like a rabid football coach, outside of
sight from the hearing officer conducting the process but audible to many of
the neighbors, making derisive comments about each presenter, and trying to build
a frenzy.
When that time
came for public comment, the outpouring was immediate. The neighbors had grown accustomed to bike
riding through the site to reach the national forest beyond. The developer had engaged in shady practices
elsewhere. The neighbors enjoyed taking evening
nature walks through the site. The
developer wasn’t local. Despite what the
studies showed and without an alternative factual argument, everyone knew the traffic
would be horrendous. The developer
regularly broke promises.
The hearing
officer listened politely, nodded occasionally, and, when he issued his
decision a few weeks later, rejected virtually every argument made by the
neighbors.
Frequently overwrought
and unsubstantiated neighborhood reactions are an element of the land-use
process that that concerns me for at least three reasons. They seem to be gaining a stronger foothold
in the land-use process to the detriment of our communities. They can have unfortunate overtones of
unsocial perspectives. And they can result
in reasonable and mutually-beneficial project adjustments being lost. I’ll dig deeper into each.
Neighborhood
objections are gaining a greater role in the land-use process. CEQA, with its relatively low threshold for
recourse to the court system, gives neighbors a potentially strong voice, if sometimes
an undereducated role, in the process.
And developers, for whom time is literally money and wary of the CEQA-power
potentially wielded by neighbors, will trim projects to avoid the CEQA
recourse. A frequent victim of the
trimming is the lower-end residential units that would have reduced the displacement
that can result from gentrification.
In addition
to the CEQA concerns, there are more rumblings of giving veto power to neighbors
for some types of land-use actions, enhancing the power of neighbors to halt
projects despite a sometimes credible greater good.
On the
social implications of neighborhood concerns, I’ll look back to the story of
Yonkers, New York as recounted in the book and HBO show “Show Me a Hero”. Under the Yonkers approach to land-use
decisions, deference was given to the city councilmember in whose district a project
would be located. As most voters were
opposed to public housing in their neighborhoods and most councilmembers were
interested in reelection, all public housing was eventually located in the
quadrant of the town that already had public housing and therefore wasn’t
averse to more public housing.
It was a
pattern that a federal court system eventually determined to be systemically
racist, with the court forcing the city to take remedial action and leading to
the story told in “Show Me a Hero”. I
understand that many neighbors who would look with a jaundiced eye at the idea
of public housing in their neighborhoods aren’t covert racists, but if the
result is a land-use pattern judged to be systemically racist, it’s a
distinction without a difference.
On the last
point, a frequent frustration during my career was having neighbors, in the
heat of public testimony, offer ideas that truly would have benefited both the
developer and the neighbors, but were quickly buried in a flood of opprobrium.
It was
always fun to chat over beers with a developer after a long public meeting,
reminding him of the speaker who impugned his character and his business
practices and then to suggest that the speaker’s idea about realigning the road
could benefit both the project and the neighborhood.
I was
successful with a fair number of those conversations, but it was unfortunate
that I had to first overcome the negative impression left by the speaker.
Looking at
the biggest possible picture, I often think of a land-use decision as balancing
the needs of three public constituencies, the neighborhood which will have to
deal with the traffic, parking, visual, and noise impacts from the project, the
community which has an interest in creating a more resilient and sustainable
community, in minimizing infrastructure maintenance, and in having employees
living as close to employment, schools, and shopping as possible, and the
broader public which has a concern that resources, particularly those with
climate change implications, are used efficiently.
Balancing
those three constituencies isn’t easy or trivial. Given the same set of facts, ten fair-minded
individuals would likely come to ten different reasonable conclusions.
But
balancing them is essential. And when we
give any of the parties unreasonable control, either through CEQA authority or
through veto powers in zoning codes, we undermine that balance.
Do I have
solutions to propose? Not really. I can’t think of any way to change the
land-use process to remove the bumps I describe above. But I can implore governing bodies to not
give too much authority to neighbors, neighbors to be aware of the bigger
picture, and applicants to look past the sometimes inflammatory rhetoric for
the good ideas that may be tucked behind.
Building better communities requires us to work together.
Next time, I’ll
follow up on the new murals in Petaluma’s American Alley. The murals were completed last weekend to
good reports. I’ll wander down the alley
with camera in hand and give my report.
As always,
your questions or comments will be appreciated.
Please comment below or email me.
And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)
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