Joel KotkinNew Geography
March 15, 2010
California
is in trouble: Unemployment is over 13%, the state is broke and
hundreds of thousands of people, many of them middle-class families, are
streaming for the exits. But to some politicians, like Sen. Alan
Lowenthal, the real challenge for California "progressives" is not to
fix the economy but to reengineer the way people live.
In Lowenthal's case the clarion call is to take
steps to ban
free parking. This way, the Long Beach Democrat reasons, Californians
would have to give up their cars and either take the bus or walk to
their local shops. "Free parking has significant social, economic and
environmental costs," Lowenthal told the
Los Angeles Times. "It increases congestion and greenhouse gas emissions."
Scarily, his proposal actually passed the State Senate.
One would hope that the mania for changing how people live and work
could be dismissed as just local Californian lunacy. Yet across the
country, and within the Obama Administration, there is a growing
predilection to endorse policies that steer the bulk of new development
into our already most-crowded urban areas.
One influential
document called "Moving Cooler", cooked up by the Environmental
Protection Agency, the Urban Land Institute, the Environmental Defense
Fund, Natural Resources Defense Council, the
Environmental Protection Agency and others, lays out a strategy that would essentially force the vast majority of new development into dense city cores.
Over the next 40 years this could result in something like 60 million
to 80 million people being crammed into existing central cities. These
policies work hard to make suburban life as miserable as possible by
shifting infrastructure spending to dense areas. One proposal, "Moving
Cooler," outdoes even Lowenthal by calling for charges of upwards of
$400 for people to park in front of their own houses.
The
ostensible justification for this policy lies in the dynamics of slowing
climate change. Forcing people to live in dense cities, the reasoning
goes, would make people give up all those free parking opportunities and
and even their private vehicles, which would reduce their dreaded
"carbon imprint."
Yet there are a few little problems with this
"cramming" policy. Its environmental implications are far from assured.
According to some
recent studies in Australia, the carbon footprint of high-rise urban residents is
higher
than that of medium- and low-density suburban homes, due to such things
as the cost of heating common areas, including parking garages, and the
highly consumptive lifestyles of more affluent urbanites.
Moreover, it appears that even those who live in dense places may be
loath to give up their cars. Over 90% of all jobs in American
metropolitan regions are located outside the central business districts,
which tend to be the only places well suited for mass transit.
Indeed, despite the massive expansion of transit systems in the past 30
years, the percentage of people taking public transportation in major
metropolitan regions has
dropped from roughly 8% to closer to
5%. Even in Portland, Ore.--the mecca for new wave transit
consciousness--the share of people using transit to get to work is now
considerably less than it was in 1980. In recent months overall transit
ridership nationwide has actually dropped.
These realities
suggest that densification of most cities--with the exceptions of New
York, Washington and perhaps a few others--cannot be supported by
transit. Furthermore, drivers in dense cities will be confronted with
not less congestion, but more, which will likely also
boost pollution.
The most congested cities in the country tend to be the densest, such
as Los Angeles, Sen. Lowenthal's bailiwick, which is in an unenviable
first place.
Then there is the little issue of people's
preferences. Urban boosters have been correct in saying that until
recently there have been too few opportunities for middle-class
residents to live in and around city cores. But over the past decade
many cities have gone for broke with dense condo and rental housing and
have produced far more product, often at very high cost, than the market
can reasonably bear.
Initially, when the mortgage crisis broke, the
density advocates
built much of their case on the fact that the biggest hits took place
in suburban areas, particularly on the fringe. Yet as suburban
construction ended, cities continued building high-density urban
housing--sometimes encouraged by city subsidies. As a result, in the
last two years massive foreclosures have plagued many cities, and many
condominiums have been converted to rentals. This is true in bubble
towns like Las Vegas and Miami; "smart-growth" bastions like Portland
and Seattle; and even relatively sane places such as Kansas City, Mo.
All these places have a massive amount of high-density condos that are
either vacant or converted into lower-cost rentals.
Take Portland. The city's condo prices are down 30% from their
original list price.
The 177-unit Encore, one of the fanciest new towers, has closed sales
on 12 of its units as of March, while another goes to auction. Meanwhile
in New York half-completed structures dot Brooklyn's once-thriving
Williamsburg neighborhood, while the massive
Stuyvesant Town apartment complex in Manhattan teeters at the edge of bankruptcy.
Finally, it is unlikely that cities would be able to accommodate the
massive growth promoted by urban boosters, land speculators and policy
mavens. Aaron Renn, who writes the influential Urbanophile blog, says
that most American cities today struggle to maintain their current
infrastructure. They also have limited options to zone land for
high-density construction, due in part to grassroots opposition to
existing
residential neighborhoods. Overall they would be hard-pressed to accommodate much more than 10% of their region's growth, much less 50% or 60%.
Given these realities, and the depth of the current recession, one
might think that governments would focus more on basics like jobs and
fixing the infrastructure--in suburbs as well as cities--than
reengineering how people live. Yet it is increasingly clear that for
many "progressives" the real agenda is not enabling people to achieve
their dreams--especially in the form of a suburban single-family house.
It is, instead, forcing them to live in what is viewed as more
ecologically and socially preferable density.
In the next few
months we may see more of the kind of hyperregulation proposed by the
likes of Sen. Lowenthal. It is entirely possible that a hoary coalition
of HUD, Department of Transportation and EPA bureaucrats could start
trying to restrict future housing development along the lines suggested
in "Moving Cooler."
Yet over time one has to wonder about the
political efficacy of this approach. Right now Americans are focused
primarily on simply economic growth--and perhaps a touch less on the
intellectual niceties of the "smart" form. In addition they are
increasingly skeptical about cli
mate change, which serves as the primary
raison d'etre behind the new regulatory schema.
Given the zealousness of the density advocates, perhaps the only thing
that will slow, and even reverse, this process will be the political
equivalent of a sharp slap across the face. Unless the ruling party
begins to reacquaint itself with the preferences and aspirations of the
vast majority of Americans, they may find themselves experiencing
repeats of their recent humiliating defeat--manufactured largely in the
Boston suburbs--in true-blue Massachusetts.
Americans--suburban
or urban--may resist a return to unbridled and extreme Republicanism,
whether on social issues or in economic policy. But forced to choose
between Neanderthals, who at least might leave them alone in their daily
lives, and higher-order intellects determined to reengineer their
lives, they might end up supporting bipeds lower down the evolutionary
chain, at least until the progressive vanguard regains a grip on common
sense.