SHARE
Como consecuencia del huracán Sandy, la mayor frecuencia de eventos climáticos extremos y el aumento del nivel del mar, la vulnerabilidad de las ciudades y pueblos costeros se ha convertido en una cuestión de urgencia. Pero los desastres pueden suponer también oportunidades de innovación. Después de Sandy, se ha comenzado a ensayar una serie nueva de iniciativas, herramientas, políticas, marcos de gobierno e incentivos, e incluso concursos como el de Reconstrucción por Diseño (Rebuild by Design o RBD) Este concurso, promovido por el Grupo de Trabajo de Reconstrucción después del Huracán Sandy y el Departamento de Vivienda y Desarrollo Urbano (HUD) de los Estados Unidos, usa el diseño como herramienta clave para crear estrategias integradas para construir resiliencia, sostenibilidad y habitabilidad.
Después de que HUD anunció los ganadores en junio, Land Lines habló sobre RBD con Helen Lochhead, arquitecta y diseñadora urbana y paisajista, y fellow Lincoln/Loeb de 2014 en la Escuela de Posgrado de Diseño de la Universidad de Harvard y el Instituto Lincoln. Anteriormente fue Directora Ejecutiva de Desarrollo del Sitio en la Autoridad Costera del Puerto de Sídney. También es profesora adjunta en la Universidad de Sídney.
Land Lines: ¿En qué manera fue distinto el huracán Sandy de otras tormentas en los Estados Unidos?
Helen Lochhead: Sandy causó daños sin precedentes y puso en evidencia la vulnerabilidad de las ciudades y pueblos costeros a eventos climáticos extremos más frecuentes. Dados los costos económicos, que alcanzaron 65 mil millones de dólares, y el desmesurado número de víctimas humanas —más de 117 muertes y 200.000 personas desplazadas de sus hogares— quedó claro desde el principio del proceso de recuperación que reconstruir lo que existía antes no era una opción viable.
Todos los niveles de gobierno —federal, estatal y municipal— expresaron claramente el imperativo de aumentar la resiliencia de las áreas afectadas por Sandy en Nueva York, Nueva Jersey y Connecticut. Para garantizar que la región triestatal tuviera un mejor desempeño la próxima vez, se reconoció que teníamos que construir en forma diferente. Como cada dólar gastado en mitigación y preparación puede ahorrar cuatro dólares más adelante en gastos de reconstrucción después de desastres, las entidades gubernamentales están ensayando una gama de iniciativas nuevas, como por ejemplo concursos para promover la resiliencia mediante planificación y diseños innovadores, tales como RBD.
Land Lines: ¿En qué se diferenció RBD de otros esfuerzos de recuperación y concursos de diseño?
Helen Lochhead: La concurso RBD identificó el diseño como herramienta clave para poder resistir eventos climáticos extremos, con la posibilidad de reorientar las preguntas y desarrollar nuevos paradigmas que desafíen el status quo. Los diseñadores son colaboradores, visualizadores y sintetizadores. RBD les dio la oportunidad de analizar los temas y construir escenarios de maneras nuevas y distintas.
El enfoque de RBD también fue regional. El huracán Sandy superó los límites políticos, así que el concurso se propuso abordar vulnerabilidades estructurales y medioambientales que la tormenta puso en evidencia en todas las áreas afectadas. También prometió reforzar nuestro conocimiento de las interdependencias regionales, fomentando la coordinación y resiliencia tanto a nivel local como nacional.
La estrategia de adquisición también fue distinta. El modelo estándar para los concursos federales de diseño es definir un problema existente, escribir un resumen y solicitar soluciones a los mejores expertos en el campo. Pero un problema de una escala y complejidad sin precedentes como Sandy no se puede definir fácilmente hasta que se haya comprendido en todas sus dimensiones. Esto toma tiempo. Este territorio virgen sugirió la necesidad de hacerse preguntas abiertas y de utilizar un enfoque interdisciplinario y multijurisdiccional.
Primero, una combinación única de socios de proyecto —el Grupo de Trabajo de Reconstrucción después del Huracán Sandy del Presidente Obama y HUD, en colaboración con el Instituto de Conocimiento Público (Institute for Public Knowledge o IPK), la Sociedad Municipal de Artes (Municipal Art Society o MAS), la Asociación de Planes Regionales (Regional Plan Association o RPA), y el Instituto Van Alen (Van Alen Institute o VAI), con el respaldo económico de la Fundación Rockefeller y otras fundaciones importantes— contrataron a un diverso grupo de talento. En vez de limitar el campo de acción, los socios de proyecto armaron equipos integrados por pensadores interdisciplinarios y colaborativos para abordar una amplia gama de ideas y enfoques, y crear estrategias más holísticas.
Segundo, el proceso del concurso propiamente dicho fue distinto. Su duración, de ocho meses en total, fue breve, claro y concentrado. El proceso involucró investigación y diseño para abordar los temas de interés y maximizar el alcance y la extensión de las ideas por medio de paradigmas abiertos de innovación. El proceso fue colaborativo, gobernado por la investigación y con un intercambio abierto de información, para poder refinar mejor la naturaleza y el alcance de los complejos desafíos regionales, y desarrollar soluciones de diseño comprehensivas.
Tercero, RBD reservó fondos de Subsidios Globales de Desarrollo Comunitario (Community Development Block Grants, CDBG-DR) de HUD —concretamente 920 millones de dólares— para ayudar a implementar los proyectos y propuestas ganadoras. Normalmente, los acreedores de las subvenciones tienen que desarrollar planes de acción sólo después de haber recibido estos fondos. Pero RBD cambió este procedimiento informalmente, promoviendo propuestas innovadoras antes de otorgar el dinero. De esa manera, los dólares federales se convirtieron en un catalizador de innovación, así como un mecanismo para facilitar la implementación. Se alentó también a los equipos a que consiguieran su propio financiamiento para el desarrollo adicional de diseños, impulsando una extensión de sus tareas y del alcance del proyecto.
Finalmente, RBD interactuó con comunidades, organizaciones sin fines de lucro, entidades gubernamentales y dirigentes locales, estatales y federales a todos los niveles para construir nuevas coaliciones de respaldo y capacidad en paralelo con cada propuesta de diseño.
Land Lines: ¿Cuán efectivo fue RBD como vehículo para impulsar la innovación y resiliencia en la región? ¿Y cuáles son las posibilidades y desafíos más importantes de este tipo de proceso liderado por diseño?
Helen Lochhead: No sabremos por un tiempo si RBD generará innovaciones que preparen y adapten mejor a la región al cambio climático, o si los proyectos se podrán implementar y aprovechar exitosamente para construir resiliencia en otras comunidades vulnerables. No obstante, es posible identificar dónde el concurso ha demostrado innovación y un impacto potencial más allá de los procesos normales.
La mera cantidad de participantes, la gama de disciplinas y las estructuras de equipos integrados facilitaron una multiplicidad de ideas y enfoques, y también estrategias más holísticas. De un total de 148 propuestas, RBD seleccionó 10 equipos de diseño multidisciplinarios para investigar y desarrollar una gama de propuestas. Estos finalistas incluyeron más de 200 expertos, principalmente en las disciplinas de planificación, diseño, ingeniería y ecología.
La fase de investigación multifacética, que comenzó en agosto de 2013, también diferenció el proceso del concurso desde el comienzo. Los equipos se sumergieron en investigaciones basadas en diseño, debates sobre temas específicos y excursiones de campo a áreas afectadas por Sandy, para comprender la enormidad del desafío. El Instituto de Conocimiento Público (IPK) se hizo cargo de esta etapa, como manera de abordar una amplia variedad de temas, recabar las opiniones de la comunidad local y realizar trabajo de campo. Las investigaciones del IPK identificaron vulnerabilidades y riesgos, para los que los equipos de diseño podían proponer alternativas mejores y más resilientes. Este marco de acción permitió que los equipos de proyecto no sólo identificaran, comprendieran y respondieran a los problemas centrales, sino que también definieran oportunidades y generaran posibles escenarios. El proceso también facilitó el intercambio de investigaciones e ideas entre los distintos equipos.
Los diseñadores realizaron amplios estudios de precedentes, examinaron buenas prácticas globales, y se reunieron con miembros de la comunidad para recabar su opinión sobre las soluciones más efectivas en el contexto local. Así identificaron tanto enfoques nuevos y emergentes de protección costera, financiamiento, políticas y planificación del uso del suelo, como modelos de comunicación que fueron prometedores en otros contextos y quizás se pudieran adaptar a las regiones afectadas por Sandy. Una de las claves de exploración fueron las herramientas visuales. Los equipos ensayaron escenarios usando herramientas de generación de mapas por SIG para compilar, sintetizar y comunicar datos complejos. Las visualizaciones tridimensionales ayudaron a ilustrar varias opciones y estimular a las partes interesadas.
No se puede subestimar el poder de las propuestas impulsadas por diseño como medio para traducir problemas intangibles en soluciones reales que las partes interesadas puedan comprender y discutir de manera significativa.
Land Lines: Usted mencionó que RBD construyó nuevas coaliciones de respaldo. ¿De qué manera fue distinto el alcance?
Helen Lochhead: Se seleccionaron diez ideas para el desarrollo de diseños en octubre, comenzando la etapa final del concurso. Los equipos trabajaron de cerca con MAS, RPA y VAI para transformar sus ideas de diseño en proyectos viables que inspiraran la cooperación de políticos, comunidades y entidades gubernamentales en toda la región, facilitando así la implementación y el financiamiento. Debido al enfoque regional de estos proyectos de gran alcance, el papel de los socios de proyecto fue clave para poder congregar las redes locales que frecuentemente tenían intereses distintos.
Fue esencial construir coaliciones para asegurar que el enfoque era no sólo integral sino también inclusivo. Más importante aún fue el respaldo de base para implementar y crear el impulso necesario para concretar los proyectos a largo plazo, ya que inevitablemente algunos serán ejecutados más adelante a medida que se disponga de fondos.
Land Lines: ¿Cuáles fueron algunos de los temas clave abordados por las propuestas?
Helen Lochhead: La lógica primordial de las propuestas es que, para poder obtener el mayor beneficio y valor, la inversión no tiene que confrontar solamente el riesgo de inundaciones o tormentas, sino también los efectos combinados de eventos climáticos extremos, la degradación medioambiental, la vulnerabilidad social y la susceptibilidad de las redes vitales. Al restaurar ecosistemas y crear oportunidades recreativas y económicas, los proyectos aumentarán la sostenibilidad y la resiliencia.
Las metodologías que predominaron fueron aquellos enfoques a múltiples niveles que incorporaron más infraestructura ecológica verde/azul, así como sistemas de infraestructura gris, junto con propuestas de modelos de gobernanza nuevos y más regionales, herramientas en línea, e iniciativas educativas que construyen capacidad dentro de las comunidades. Muchos proyectos demostraron soluciones localizadas que también tenían una aplicación más amplia. Todos los proyectos resaltaron las interdependencias, la coordinación y la inclusión.
Land Lines: ¿Cuáles son algunas de las innovaciones clave de los proyectos ganadores anunciados por el Secretario de Vivienda y Desarrollo Urbano (HUD), Shaun Donovan, el 2 de junio?
Helen Lochhead: El proyecto “Living Breakwaters” (“Rompeolas vivientes”) de SCAPE/Landscape Architecture podría tener aplicaciones de gran alcance si los arrecifes artificiales de ostras son exitosos. Si bien la propuesta enfrenta ciertos desafíos —se tiene que resolver todavía el permiso para operar dentro del agua y los impactos medioambientales potencialmente amplios— tiene la posibilidad de modelarse y ensayarse a una escala mucho más pequeña, siempre y cuando las comunidades locales estén de acuerdo y se cuente con expertos como la Escuela del Puerto de Nueva York para resolver los problemas de aprendizaje iniciales. De ser posible, tiene el beneficio adicional de contar con sistemas biológicos autosustentables que se reponen solos. La ingeniosidad de este esquema es el uso de un proyecto piloto para reemplazar la política y el marco regulador existente con un replanteamiento radical de las posibilidades. Las normas reguladoras imponen frecuentemente una barrera significativa a la innovación, de manera que un ensayo de pequeña escala es una inversión de bajo riesgo. Si no funciona, los efectos son mínimos; si tiene éxito, habrá superado barreras políticas importantes, abriendo el camino a nuevas metodologías de protección más ecológicas contra tormentas.
La propuesta “New Meadowlands: Productive + Regional Park” (“Ciudad productiva y parque regional de Nuevas praderas”) de MIT CAU + ZUS + URBANISTEN, para el área de Meadowlands en Nueva Jersey, es otro enfoque igualmente innovador de implementación. Es un ejemplo llamativo de infraestructura verde compuesto de bermas gruesas, multifuncionales y apaisajadas a lo largo de la costa que actúan como barrera contra inundaciones, pero también permiten la ocupación. La propuesta incluye un parque regional productivo, con bermas y humedales rodeando el curso de agua que protegen las propiedades e infraestructuras vitales de las inundaciones, reconstruye la biodiversidad y hospeda programas recreativos y sociales, así como también una combinación de emprendimientos que aprovechan la nueva zona de parques.
El proyecto también abre una oportunidad atractiva para utilizar un modelo de gobierno regional para ayudar a implementar la visión. La Comisión de Meadowlands de Nueva Jersey —que gobierna la zonificación del uso del suelo en 14 municipalidades— es un caso de estudio en colaboración intermunicipal, con poderes latentes que le permiten organizar esfuerzos de coalición sobre esta área regional. Con un poco de rediseño, podría convertirse potencialmente en una entidad ecológica y de desarrollo económico. Hay muchos impedimentos reguladores incorporados en esta propuesta, y un organismo de gobierno poderoso como éste podría potencialmente simplificarlos. La escala regional de muchas de estas propuestas hace que se crucen los límites jurisdiccionales, lo cual complica la implementación. Al identificar el potencial no aprovechado de este marco de gobierno existente, este equipo ha tomado pasos para ir superando esta importante barrera.
El proyecto “BIG U” del equipo BIG es una barrera compartimentada y multipropósito diseñada para proteger distritos vulnerables en la parte baja de Manhattan contra inundaciones y marejadas ciclónicas. El equipo se concentró en la parte oriental inferior de la isla. El proyecto integra espacios verdes y programas sociales y, a largo plazo, propone soluciones muy necesarias de transporte público. Si bien se propone resolver la falta de espacios abiertos recreativos en el barrio, no aborda adecuadamente ciertas necesidades sistémicas, como la escasez y la calidad de viviendas de interés social, el acceso a servicios y el aburguesamiento potencial que este proyecto podría acelerar.
En el condado de Nassau, Long Island, el proyecto “Living with the Bay” (“Viviendo con la bahía”) del equipo de Interboro se propone incrementar la calidad de la vida cotidiana en la región en épocas normales y al mismo tiempo abordar el riesgo de inundación. Tomadas en conjunto, estas iniciativas presentan una colección de propuestas de relativamente poco riesgo que se pueden implementar ya mismo, y que siembran las semillas de un futuro más estratégico y resiliente. En el largo plazo, se podrían realizar otras mejoras, como viviendas con mayor densidad cerca del transporte público y un nuevo fideicomiso de suelo comunitario.
La propuesta “Hunts Point Lifelines” (“Hunts Point cuerdas salvavidas”) de PennDesign/OLIN para el barrio de Bronx se enfoca en la resiliencia social y económica. Si bien el equipo tuvo en cuenta las vulnerabilidades medioambientales, su preocupación principal era el papel crítico que el Mercado de alimentos de Hunts Point juega en la comunidad local y la cadena de alimentos regional. El equipo trabajó con la comunidad y los dueños de propiedades industriales para desarrollar diseños específicos para el sitio, con protección integrada contra tormentas e infraestructura verde que ofrece un espacio social de alta calidad con componentes que se pueden fabricar localmente y construir en forma cooperativa. El proyecto demostró el potencial de la protección y ecología híbrida de los puertos que se encuentran a lo largo del estuario.
La estrategia integral para Hoboken de OMA —“Resist, Delay, Store, Discharge” (“Resistir, demorar, almacenar, descargar”)— representa un catálogo de intervenciones que incorpora una extensa infraestructura verde/azul y también una barrera de protección para la infraestructura crítica de transporte. Si bien tiene mucha similitud con el proyecto Comunidades Sostenibles de Hoboken, su punto fuerte es la metodología integral, lograda por medio de una serie de iniciativas clave que contaron con la participación de más de 40 partes interesadas en Hoboken y Jersey City, que serán esenciales para su implementación.
Land Lines: ¿Cuáles fueron los mejores aspectos de los proyectos que no ganaron?
Helen Lochhead: Los marcos de intercambio abierto de información crearon un proceso de información pública en línea, para que los equipos pudieran alcanzar a una variedad mucho más extensa de usuarios que aquellos que asisten tradicionalmente a las reuniones comunitarias. Por ejemplo, el proyecto “CrowdGauge for Rebuild” (“Calibrar para reconstruir”) de Sasaki pidió primero a los usuarios de Asbury Park, Nueva Jersey, que clasificaran una serie de prioridades. Después demostró cómo una serie de acciones y políticas podrían afectar dichas prioridades. Finalmente, entregó a los usuarios una cantidad limitada de monedas y les pidió que las “gastasen” en las acciones que más les interesaran.
Varios equipos demostraron un método de “juego de componentes”, utilizando iniciativas de desarrollo económico, juegos de herramientas de uso, y proyectos de mejora urbana en varias combinaciones, para alcanzar metas de resiliencia. La propuesta de HR&A Cooper Robertson para Red Hook, Brooklyn, es un ejemplo de este método. Con todos los componentes en su lugar, se podría utilizar una serie de estas estrategias a mayor escala y crear transformaciones y beneficios sistémicos. Dichos enfoques granulares facilitan la implementación por fases y, con el debido financiamiento, se pueden ejecutar inmediatamente y tener un impacto a distintas escalas.
El proyecto “Resilience + the Beach” (“Resiliencia + la playa”) de Sasaki/Rutgers/Arup se enfocó más tierra adentro de la costa de Nueva Jersey, en los terrenos más altos y secos, redefiniendo la zona costera como el ecosistema de seis millas de ancho entre la playa y los pinares de Nueva Jersey. Al revelar los atributos escénicos y el potencial recreativo de los cursos de agua y bosques interiores, esta estrategia fomenta el desarrollo para migrar del borde de las islas de barrera a áreas más estables tierra adentro, con el objeto de crear una economía turística más estratificada. El sitio de este proyecto es Asbury Park, pero este enfoque se puede aplicar a nivel regional, capitalizando los atributos geográficos de la costa de Nueva Jersey —los pinares, las bahías internas y las islas de barrera— para crear nuevas atracciones. La estrategia incluye una serie de medidas de infraestructura nueva verde/azul, espacios abiertos y emprendimientos, y un juego de herramientas comunitarias para educar a los propietarios sobre los riesgos locales y las opciones de resiliencia.
Otro prototipo de ciudades costeras regionales, “Resilient Bridgeport” (“Bridgeport resiliente”) de WB, es un marco de resiliencia y propuestas de diseño específicas para la región de Long Island Sound. Una serie de estrategias de diseño y principios de planificación costera, urbana y ribereña integrados proporcionan múltiples líneas de defensa para proteger Bridgeport contra inundaciones y marejadas ciclónicas, estimulando al mismo tiempo la restauración medioambiental, el desarrollo económico y la revitalización barrial, enfocándose en viviendas de interés social.
Land Lines: En suma, ¿cuáles han sido hasta ahora los éxitos más importantes del concurso?
Helen Lochhead: La urgencia del problema y el ritmo acelerado del concurso generó un nivel de intensidad, impulso y energía que dio resultados en muy poco tiempo. Muchas de las soluciones de diseño se caracterizaron por ideas ricas y cuantificadas, análisis profundos para resolver problemas y metodologías ingeniosas. El enfoque no se limitó a la recuperación y reducción de riesgo, como mitigación de inundaciones y tormentas, sino que se extendió también a la resiliencia y sostenibilidad a largo plazo. Todas las propuestas crean múltiples beneficios a nivel social, económico y medioambiental —mejoras relativas a instalaciones, ecología, educación, construcción de capacidad, ahorro de largo plazo, y salud y bienestar comunitarios— y por lo tanto tienden a ser soluciones más holísticas y de superior desempeño.
El impacto a la fecha ha sido catalizador. Como mínimo, RBD ha generado el impulso y proporcionó beneficios importantes a la región al haber iniciado una conversación sobre la resiliencia por diseño. Por supuesto, la medida real del éxito estriba en la implementación, pero hace falta un proceso robusto e innovador para provocar cambios culturales en la práctica. RBD ha dado el ejemplo.
Land Lines: ¿Cuáles serán los desafíos más importantes de implementación?
Helen Lochhead: Encontrar el justo medio entre lo visionario y lo pragmático.
El incentivo para los ganadores fue la posibilidad de implementar estos proyectos con subsidios de recuperación de desastres de HUD y otras fuentes de financiamiento públicas y privadas. Por eso, una parte clave de la fase final fue una estrategia de implementación para demostrar factibilidad, el respaldo de los beneficiarios locales de subsidios, la ejecución por fases y entregas de corto plazo que se puedan financiar con los subsidios CDBG-DR de HUD, así como con fuentes de financiamiento para etapas posteriores.
La verdadera oportunidad para HUD ahora es utilizar este proceso y sus proyectos ejemplares para beneficiar otras regiones que corren riesgo a escala nacional.
SHARE
As a graduate student studying urban design and planning, Matt Tomasulo organized a clever wayfinding project to encourage residents of Raleigh, North Carolina, to walk more rather than drive. With a group of confederates, he designed and produced 27 Coroplast signs, each one-foot square, printed with simple messages such as: “It’s a 7 Minute Walk to Raleigh City Cemetery,” color-coded by destination category, with an arrow pointing the way. The group attached these with zipties to stoplight poles and the like around three downtown intersections. It took less than 45 minutes to install them all—after dark, because, although the signs looked official, this effort was “unsanctioned,” as Tomasulo put it.
As you might expect, the city had the signs taken down. And that could have been the end of it: a provocative gesture and a smart portfolio piece. But in fact, Walk Raleigh has undergone an unexpected metamorphosis since it first appeared back in 2012, evolving into Walk [Your City] (WalkYourCity.org), an ambitious attempt to take the underlying idea nationwide and work with (instead of around) city and planning officials. This year, Tomasulo’s fledgling organization received a $182,000 grant from the Knight Foundation, sparking a new phase for the project that includes a particularly thoughtful series of deployments coordinated with officials in San Jose, California.
This surprising outcome owes much to shrewd uses of technology—and perhaps even more to the input of a handful of planning officials who saw deeper potential in what could have been a fun but ephemeral stunt.
The core of Tomasulo’s original insight was to probe and attempt to shift perceptions of walking: he’d come upon some interesting research suggesting that people often choose not to walk because a destination simply “feels” farther away than it really is.
Older downtowns such as Raleigh’s are often “more walkable than people realize,” says Julie Campoli, an urban designer and author of Made for Walking: Density and Neighborhood Form (2012), published by the Lincoln Institute. But in many cases, decades of traffic engineering have eroded the sense of walkability in built environments where signage is arranged to be visible to drivers, and offers distance information in the car-centric form of miles. For the most part, she says, “The streets are designed for cars.”
Tomasulo did his own research in Raleigh, asking neighbors and others if they would, say, walk rather than drive to a certain grocery store if it took 14 minutes. “They’d say, ‘Sure, sometimes, at least.’ And I’d say: ‘Well, it’s 12 minutes.’ Again and again I had this conversation. People would say, ‘I always thought it was too far to walk.’”
Thus Tomasulo’s original signs were oriented to pedestrian eye level, and described distance in terms of minutes to a particular destination of potential interest. Tomasulo documented and promoted the project on Facebook. The enthusiasm there helped attract media attention, climaxing in a visit from a BBC video crew.
That’s when Tomasulo reached out via Twitter to Mitchell Silver, Raleigh’s then planning director, and a former president of the American Planning Association. Silver didn’t know much about Walk Raleigh, but agreed to talk to the BBC anyway, discussing the desirability of pro-walking efforts and praising this one as a “very cool” example . . . that probably should have gotten a permit first. The clip got even more attention. And when that resulted in inquiries about the signs’ legality, Silver removed them himself and returned them to Tomasulo.
But Silver also recognized the bigger opportunity. Raleigh’s long-term comprehensive plan explicitly called for an emphasis on increasing walkability (and bike-ability), an issue that resonated with the fast-growing municipality’s notably young population (about 70 percent under age 47 at the time). “It really became a critical thing,” he recalls. “Are we going to embrace innovation? Did Walk Raleigh do something wrong or are our codes out of date?” says Silver, now commissioner of the New York City Department of Parks and Recreation. “Innovation tests regulation. Matt, without realizing it, tested us.”
The short-term solution: Tomasulo could donate his signs to the city, which could then reinstall them on an “educational pilot” basis. To help Silver convince the City Council, Tomasulo used online petition tool SignOn.org to gather 1,255 signature in three days. The Council unanimously approved the return of Walk Raleigh.
Tomasulo pushed a little further. (He has since finished with school, and has a Masters in city and regional planning from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, and another in landscape architecture from North Carolina State University.) Raising $11,364 on Kickstarter, he and partners built WalkYourCity.org, which offers customizable signage templates to anyone, anywhere. This has led to more than 100 communities creating citizen-led projects in large and small municipalities across the U.S. and beyond.
That shouldn’t be a surprise, given what Campoli describes as a growing interest in walkability among citizens and planners alike. The smart growth movement has revived interest in compact city forms, she says, “And in the last ten years, that has converged in this idea of walkability.” Particularly in key demographics—millenials and empty-nesters prominently among them—there has been a recognition that car culture is “not as wonderful as it was made out to be,” she observes.
And there’s an economic dimension for cities, she adds. One way to gauge that is through growing real-estate values associated with more compact, walkable forms.
The economic impact factor inspired a recent collaboration with officials in San Jose, which stands out as an example of how tactical urbanism can cross over into real-world planning influence. Sal Alvarez, of the city’s Office of Economic Development, was a fan of WalkYourCity.org as an open online platform—but pointed out that “The city will probably come take the signs down,” he says. “You need a champion on the inside, really.” He and Jessica Zenk of the city’s Department of Transportation served that role in San Jose, quickly launching three pilot programs.
Each is concentrated and strategic. The first leverages the popularity of the newish San Pedro Square Market, a concentration of restaurants and businesses in the city’s two-square-mile downtown. It’s a favored local destination, but the sort that people often drive to and from without exploring. So a set of 47 signs points to attractions in the adjacent Little Italy district, a park with extensive walking trails, the arena where the city’s National Hockey League team plays, and a second park that has been the focus of ongoing revitalization efforts. A second downtown project involved recruiting a dozen volunteers to help put up 74 signs meant to draw links between the city’s SoFa arts district and walking-distance landmarks like the convention center.
The popularity of these two experiments inspired a city council member to propose the third, set in a neighborhood outside the downtown core. This centers on a road currently being converted from four lanes to two, with a middle turn lane and bike lane to enable a shift away from vehicle travel. Tomasulo has added a new batch of color-coded sign designs that point specifically to other car-alternative infrastructure, including bike-share locations and Caltrain stops. The city has been gathering traffic data around this project that may help measure the impact of these 50 or so signs at 12 intersections. To Alvarez, the signs are useful tools in pushing the cultural changes that help make infrastructure shifts take hold.
More broadly, San Jose officials are working with Tomasulo to “put some tools in the toolbox” of Walk [Your City] to encourage and help enthusiasts to find their own champions within local municipalities, so these projects can contribute to the planning process. “If you don’t get the city to buy in at some point,” Campoli says, “you’re not going to get that permanent change that a short-term event is intended to lead to.”
Back in Raleigh, the original project is evolving into a permanent feature of the landscape, with fully vetted and planned campaigns in four neighborhoods, and a partnership with Blue Cross/Blue Shield. That’s a solid example of what Silver advocated: a city embracing a grassroots urbanism project instead of just regulating.
But the San Jose example is showing how much the reverse proposition matters, too: tactical urbanism can benefit from embracing official planning structures. Tomasulo certainly sounds pleased with his project’s transition from “unsanctioned” experiment to active partnerships with insiders in San Jose and elsewhere. He uses a term he picked up for officials whose enthusiasm, creativity, and practical how-to-get-it-done wisdom cuts against an all-too-common stereotype. “They’re not bureaucrats,” he says. “They’re herocrats.”
Rob Walker (robwalker.net) is a contributor to Design Observer and The New York Times.
SHARE
Una versión más actualizada de este artículo está disponible como parte del capítulo 5 del libro Perspectivas urbanas: Temas críticos en políticas de suelo de América Latina.
¿Es la segregación espacial urbana una consecuencia del funcionamiento normal de los mercados inmobiliarios urbanos, reflejo de las preferencias individuales acumulativas, o es más bien resultado del mal funcionamiento de mercados inmobiliarios urbanos que privatizan los beneficios sociales y socializan los costos privados? ¿Proviene quizás de prejuicios contra ciertas clases o razas? ¿Crean guettos las políticas de viviendas de interés social, o los crean las acciones de agentes y prestamistas inmobiliarios que ponen sus prejuicios personales por encima de toda objetividad, generando y alimentando estereotipos sobre conciudadanos y vecindades? ¿Podrían cambiar los patrones de asentamiento intrametropolitanos si se modifica la política del suelo, o para ello es imperativo que se produzcan transformaciones sociales profundas relacionadas con valores como tolerancia, oportunidad y derechos humanos?
Treinta y siete académicos y asesores de trece países se enfrentaron a éstas y otras preguntas afines en el “Seminario Internacional sobre Segregación en la Ciudad” organizado por el Instituto Lincoln en Cambridge, Massachusetts durante el pasado mes de julio. Los organizadores del seminario, Francisco Sabatini (Universidad Católica de Chile) Martim Smolka y Rosalind Greenstein (Instituto Lincoln) plantearon una amplia gama de aspectos para explorar las dimensiones teóricas, históricas y prácticas de la segregación. Los participantes, procedentes de países tan diversos como Brasil, Israel, Kenya, Países Bajos, Irlanda del Norte y los Estados Unidos, trajeron consigo su formación profesional como juristas, sociólogos, economistas, planificadores urbanos, científicos regionales y geógrafos. A medida que intentaban llegar a un acuerdo sobre el significado de la segregación, las fuerzas diversas que la crean y la refuerzan, y las respuestas políticas posibles, se fue haciendo obvio que no hay respuestas simples y que muchos puntos de vista contribuyen al debate interminable. Este breve informe sobre el seminario ofrece una muestra de esta discusión.
¿Qué es la segregación y por qué es tan importante?
El trabajo de Frederick Boal (Escuela de Geografía, Universidad de Queens, Belfast) es fruto del gran caudal de literatura sociológica sobre segregación y su propia experiencia de vida en medio de los conflictos entre católicos y protestantes en Irlanda del Norte. Boal sugirió que la segregación debe entenderse principalmente como parte de un espectro que abarca desde el movimiento extremista de limpieza étnica hasta el más idealista de asimilación (véase la fig. 1). Tal como pasa con tantos temas vinculados con políticas, para estudiar el problema de la segregación es preciso observarla, más que como una dicotomía, como un continuo de grados o niveles de separación, cada uno con diferentes manifestaciones espaciales.
Para Peter Marcuse (Escuela de Posgrado de Arquitectura, Conservación y Planificación, Universidad de Columbia, Nueva York), la segregación supone la imposibilidad para elegir o la presencia de coerción, o ambas. Marcuse llama “agrupaciones en enclaves” a grupos de diferentes razas o etnias que deciden vivir juntos por voluntad propia. Por otra parte, llama “segregación en guettos” cuando a los grupos se los obliga a vivir aparte, bien sea explícitamente o a través de mecanismos más sutiles. La clave que distingue a estos dos patrones—la imposibilidad para elegir—invita a una respuesta del orden público.
El significado y la importancia de la segregación varía según el contexto histórico. Para William Harris (Departamento de Planificación Urbana y Regional, Universidad Estatal de Jackson, Mississippi), escritor de temas de segregación espacial en el sur de los Estados Unidos, la segregación no puede entenderse ni tampoco enfrentarse sin un conocimiento profundo del papel que ha desempeñado y sigue desempeñando la raza en la historia de los Estados Unidos y del orden público. Flavio Villaça (Escuela de Arquitectura y Urbanismo, Universidad de São Paulo, Brasil) entiende la segregación dentro de un marco conceptual de clases, en donde los factores principales que influyen en los patrones residenciales son el nivel de ingresos y el estatus social, y no la raza. En Brasil y muchos otros países con larga historia de regímenes autoritarios, el estado suele encargarse de prestar los servicios urbanos. En estos países, los patrones residenciales urbanos determinan el acceso a agua y a instalaciones sanitarias (y por tanto, a la salud) así como a medios de transporte, infraestructuras de servicios públicos y otros servicios urbanos.
Según Villaça y otros, en muchos casos la actividad del mercado del suelo y las regulaciones y los códigos urbanos se han aplicado de maneras furtivas o incluso abiertamente para crear vecindades selectas bien dotadas de servicios que separan las clases superiores del resto de la sociedad, al cual prácticamente se le hace caso omiso. Este cuadro tiene paralelismos en los Estados Unidos, en donde el acceso a escuelas de alta calidad y a otras valiosas amenidades lo determinan fundamentalmente patrones residenciales que tienen estrecha relación con la segregación, ya sea por nivel de ingresos, raza u otras características demográficas. Igualmente, los participantes del seminario señalaron la correlación entre las comunidades precarias y la situación de los peligros ambientales. Las zonas de barrios o guettos pobres, habitadas generalmente por personas de raza negra, son el vertedero de los aspectos negativos del mundo urbano moderno, como lo son desechos peligrosos y otros usos indeseados del suelo.
Ariel Espino (Departamento de Antropología, Universidad de Rice, Texas) presentó un análisis del uso de la distancia para reforzar desigualdades sociales, políticas y económicas en la vivienda. Cuando las diferencias sociales y económicas están claramente especificadas y entendidas, las élites dominantes “toleran” la proximidad física. Por ejemplo, los sirvientes pueden vivir cerca de sus patrones, incluso en la misma casa, porque las relaciones económicas y las normas de comportamiento dictan la separación por clases.
¿Por qué persiste la segregación?
Una suposición que prevaleció a lo largo del seminario fue la de que todos los residentes de la ciudad (es decir, los ciudadanos) deberían tener acceso a los servicios urbanos, o al menos a un nivel mínimo de servicios. Sin embargo, Peter Marcuse lanzó al grupo la idea de pensar más allá de un nivel mínimo y de considerar el acceso a amenidades urbanas en el contexto de los derechos. Se cuestionó si la riqueza, la herencia familiar, el color de la piel o la identidad étnica deberían ser los factores determinantes en el acceso a los bienes públicos, no sólo educación, salud y abrigo, sino también a otras amenidades directamente relacionadas con la ubicación física. Expresándose en un lenguaje evocador de las ideas de Henry George sobre la propiedad común a finales del siglo XIX, Marcuse preguntó si era justo o correcto, por ejemplo, que los ricos disfrutaran de las mejores vistas de océanos, ríos u otras bellezas naturales, mientras que los pobres estuvieran relegados a zonas menos atractivas.
Robert Wassmer (Departamento de Orden Público y Administración Pública, Universidad Estatal de California) describió los procesos económicos involucrados en la ubicación residencial, tal como los entienden los economistas de la escuela del “public choice” (decisiones públicas). Según esta perspectiva, los compradores de viviendas eligen no sólo una casa y su terreno, sino también un diverso grupo de ventajas que varían según el sitio. Algunos compradores pueden optar por un paquete de conveniencias que ofrece más sistemas de transporte público y menos vistas panorámicas, mientras que otros pueden preferir mayor acceso a autopistas y a escuelas públicas de mejor calidad. Sin embargo, no todos los ciudadanos tienen las mismas oportunidades para hacer esas selecciones. Varios participantes añadieron que este debate forma parte de una discusión más amplia sobre acceso y selección en la sociedad, dado que casi todas las opciones están restringidas hasta cierto grado, y que muchas restricciones varían sistemáticamente entre los grupos sociales.
Otros participantes señalaron las maneras en que las políticas gubernamentales (p. ej., sistemas tributarios, legislación de vivienda) e instituciones privadas (p. ej., agentes de bienes raíces, instituciones prestamistas) actúan en conjunto para influir en el comportamiento de los mercados inmobiliarios, y por consiguiente, en el efecto de las políticas del suelo en acciones públicas y privadas. Greg Squires (Departamento de Sociología, Universidad de George Washington) informó de un estudio sobre el proceso de búsqueda de vivienda en Washington, DC. Sus hallazgos ponen en evidencia el papel que desempeñan los agentes de bienes raíces al “orientar” a compradores e inquilinos hacia vecindades de las mismas razas. Como resultado fundamental, los negros no disfrutan de las mismas oportunidades que tienen los blancos y sus posibilidades de obtener su solución habitacional preferida son menores, lo cual se contrapone al modelo de “public choice”. Entre los hallazgos de Squires está el hecho de que la selección de la vivienda está determinada por el estatus social o económico. Por ejemplo, en el proceso de búsqueda de vivienda, las amenidades más solicitadas por los clientes negros difirieron de aquéllas preferidas por los blancos, en parte porque aquéllos disponían de menos recursos particulares (tales como automóviles) y requerían viviendas situadas cerca de servicios centralizados tales como transporte público.
John Metzger (Programa de Planificación Urbana y Regional, Universidad del Estado de Michigan) examinó la influencia del mercado privado en la perpetuación de la segregación. Metzger presentó investigaciones sobre perfiles grupales demográficos usados por compañías como Claritas y CACI Marketing Systems para caracterizar los vecindarios. Dichos perfiles se venden a una amplia gama de industrias, entre ellas agencias inmobiliarias y financieras, como también a entidades públicas. La industria inmobiliaria se vale de los perfiles para alimentar el proceso decisorio de comercialización, planificación e inversión, y —señala Metzger— para propiciar enclaves de razas y la persistencia de la segregación. Las instituciones de préstamos hipotecarios se valen de los perfiles para determinar la demanda del consumidor. Los planificadores urbanos, tanto asesores privados y del sector público, usan los perfiles para la determinación de usos futuros del suelo, para la planificación a largo plazo y para guiar las actividades de planificación e inversión de distritos comerciales centrales, mientras que los promotores de bienes raíces los usan para definir sus mercados y demostrar las demandas aceleradas de sus productos. Los perfiles en sí suelen estar basados en estereotipos raciales y étnicos, y a su vez refuerzan la separación de grupos raciales y étnicos dentro de los mercados de bienes raíces regionales.
Xavier de Souza Briggs (Escuela de Gobierno John F. Kennedy, Universidad de Harvard) introdujo la idea de “capital social” en la discusión. El término “capital social”, tal como lo emplean actualmente sociólogos y expertos en teoría sociológica, encarna las redes y relaciones sociales dentro las comunidades, que pueden aprovecharse para el logro de metas individuales y comunes. Briggs argumentó que si bien el capital social es, al mismo tiempo, causa y efecto de la segregación en los Estados Unidos, también puede utilizarse para crear cambios positivos. Otros participantes cuestionaron la eficacia de la teoría y las investigaciones en capital social para resolver el problema de la segregación espacial urbana, señalando que éstas tendían a limitarse a la cuestión de “cómo mejorar la situación de los pobres” en vez de estudiar los mecanismos estructurales e institucionales que contribuyen a la segregación residencial y a la desigualdad de la renta. No obstante, los sociólogos opinan que el capital social es justamente lo que necesitan las comunidades para tener cierto control sobre sus ambientes inmediatos, en vez de ser simples receptoras de las consecuencias previstas e imprevistas de la economía política.
Justicia social y política del suelo
Durante el seminario, participantes de distintas partes del mundo dieron ejemplos de casos de segregación espacial utilizada como estrategia política por los poderes estatales:
Las conexiones entre estas formas extremas de segregación espacial y las fuerzas de mercados y políticas inmobiliarias de la mayoría de las ciudades modernas son complejas y difíciles de articular. Uno de esos vínculos se refleja en las maneras como se continúan aplicando las políticas inmobiliarias y las instituciones que apoyan los mercados inmobiliarios para brindar legitimidad a las prácticas discriminatorias.
Al imaginarse un mundo de ciudades cuyos habitantes tengan verdadera libertad para escoger dónde vivir, los planificadores del seminario se concentraron en políticas y programas gubernamentales que facilitan la integración, tales como el programa “Moving to Opportunity” del Departamento de Vivienda y Desarrollo Urbano de los Estados Unidos. Sin embargo, Stephen Ross (Departamento de Economía, Universidad de Connecticut) cuestionó los supuestos beneficios de las políticas de integración o repoblación lanzando esta pregunta: “¿Qué pasaría si dispersáramos personas de altos ingresos por toda la ciudad? ¿Qué cambiaría? ¿Nos ayuda esto a considerar con más detenimiento la importancia del espacio?”
Otra pregunta de Xavier Briggs obligó a los participantes a pensar en dónde se producen la mayoría de las interacciones sociales significativas. Específicamente, ¿qué debe pasar —y en qué circunstancias— para ir desde el movimiento extremo de limpieza étnica (según el espectro étnico urbano mencionado por Boal) al extremo opuesto de la asimilación? Briggs sugirió que es posible que instituciones como escuelas y lugares de trabajo estén en más capacidad de facilitar la diversidad en las interacciones sociales, que los vecindarios residenciales.
Al fin y al cabo, los planificadores urbanos desearían que se usen sus herramientas para formar ciudades que ofrezcan justicia para todos. Hablando de las condiciones de los ciudadanos árabes en la ciudad mixta de Lod, Haim Yacobi (Departamento de Geografía, Universidad de Ben-Gurion, Israel), tocó los cimientos de los ideales democráticos occidentales al preguntar lo siguiente: “Si una persona no tiene acceso total a la ciudad, si no puede participar de lleno en la vida de la ciudad, ¿está esa persona viviendo en una ciudad verdadera?”
SHARE
Una versión más actualizada de este artículo está disponible como parte del capítulo 2 del libro Perspectivas urbanas; Temas críticos en políticas de suelo de América Latina.
Mi experiencia al asistir a la conferencia “Who Owns America? II” [¿A quién pertenecen los Estados Unidos?] celebrada en Madison, Wisconsin en junio pasado fue como contemplar un panorama formado por ideas acerca de la tierra y la gente. Desde mi punto de vista, este panorama tenía cuatro características dominantes:
La característica más sobresaliente del pensamiento jurídico estadounidense con respecto a la tierra es la gran importancia de los derechos de propiedad. La tradición jurídica de América Latina, según la doctrina de la función social de la propiedad planteada por el jurista francés Leon Duguit, tiende a considerar los derechos de propiedad como una materia a ser limitada por el gobierno y las leyes a fin de satisfacer las necesidades sociales. Por lo tanto, para mí fue un choque cultural descubrir la popularidad de la teoría de Charles Reich sobre la propiedad, en la que se promueven las ideas igualitarias mediante la defensa de los derechos de propiedad individuales.
En la conferencia se plantearon numerosas maneras distintas de ampliar la noción de propiedad para dar cabida a nuevas demandas sociales. Un ejemplo de ello fue el planteamiento de Eric Freyfogle de que la propiedad debiera tener un lugar privilegiado en la sociedad. Por supuesto, no hace falta que una idea sea aceptada por unanimidad en el razonamiento jurídico estadounidense para que pase a ser un aspecto importante del panorama actual de ideas sobre la propiedad.
La segunda característica se refiere a la distinción entre lo público y lo privado –una distinción que resulta esencial para las sociedades modernas y que suele darse por descontada–. Estamos acostumbrados a reconocer la coexistencia de dos formas separadas de control social sobre la misma extensión de tierra: el del propietario privado y el de las entidades gubernamentales públicas. Sin embargo, debemos recordar que esta separación no es eterna ni universal; es producto de la historia.
Los estudios urbanos han demostrado repetidas veces que las regulaciones de la tierra afectan constantemente las relaciones entre el control privado y el público. Los poderes de planificación y los derechos de propiedad han venido reduciéndose y ampliándose desde los inicios de la gestión urbana moderna, y ese proceso ahora se presenta como normal. Un desafío más marcado para la separación de las categorías pública y privada fue planteado en la conferencia por los reclamos que hacen las poblaciones indígenas sobre sus territorios en los Estados Unidos.
Tales reclamos se refieren a una tercera forma, aún sin codificar del todo, de control sobre la tierra. En general, los pueblos indígenas no buscan controlar los gobiernos locales, es decir, gobernar un territorio por medios convencionales. Igualmente rechazan ser tratados meramente como corporaciones que poseen tierras. Hablan de derechos de índole distinta, con elementos antiguos y nuevos, y lo hacen cuestionando una serie de tratados entre el pueblo y el estado. Un tratado es la forma usual que toma la relación jurídica entre una nación-estado y una fuerza externa. Al parecer los tratados pasados debían ‘resolver’ el problema territorial. Hoy en día esos tratados están siendo cuestionados tanto en términos de la dicotomía de lo público/lo privado como por la formación de una nación-estado que no se concretó.
Asimismo debemos reconocer que el razonamiento jurídico clásico no cuenta con los mecanismos para darle sentido a estos desarrollos, puesto que son los fundamentos mismos de ese razonamiento lo que está en tela de juicio. Es obvio que estas inquietudes también se presentan en Canadá y México, aunque con formas y resultados diferentes. Los estudiosos y profesionales de la teoría jurídica, y especialmente de la teoría constitucional, de estos tres países norteamericanos pueden aprender mucho unos de otros en este proceso.
No debería sorprendernos que surjan nuevas formas de control territorial cuando ha habido tantos cambios en la tierra misma. Se han escrito miles de libros acerca de la transformación de la tierra, sobre todo desde el punto de vista que ahora llamamos perspectiva ambiental. La tierra como ‘objeto’ de las relaciones de la propiedad se ha convertido en un asunto bastante complejo y esa complejidad es la tercera característica que encuentro en este panorama de ideas. Los territorios han pasado a ser un concepto difícil de entender y tal vez el fenómeno más significativo es la disolución de la distinción entre lo urbano y lo rural. No tenemos ciudades en el sentido tradicional de la palabra, sino un conjunto de procesos urbanísticos.
Los mensajeros del ciberespacio nos dicen que las distancias se acortan gracias a las nuevas tecnologías; el espacio y la distancia han perdido relevancia. La verdad es que el cambio tecnológico, aunado al cambio demográfico y social, solamente ha hecho la tierra más compleja. Esto queda claro cuando vemos, como lo demostraron las ponencias presentadas en la conferencia, las numerosísimas disciplinas que describen, analizan y hasta alaban con cantos la tierra. No existe disciplina alguna que pueda englobar la tierra en una única forma de discurso.
Tal vez la más interesante de las nuevas maneras de ver la tierra sea el enfoque narrativo, la cuarta característica en nuestro panorama. El relato de historias acerca de la tierra aclara las relaciones de la propiedad mucho mejor de lo que lo hacen tantos otros métodos empíricos porque nos permite reconocer los aspectos subjetivos sin alejarnos demasiado de las ciencias sociales empíricas. En comparación con la rigidez de los enfoques jurídicos y económicos, los relatos personales nos transmiten la fluidez de la propiedad como una relación social, los cambios que suceden en esa relación como resultado de muchas interacciones y los diferentes significados que puede adquirir una parcela de tierra o un vecindario para sus moradores, habitantes nuevos, visitantes y demás.
Reconocer la riqueza e intensidad de las historias de la gente y contrastar esta riqueza con la rigidez de las categorías jurídicas no implica abandonar estas últimas. Tan es así que este enfoque más subjetivo puede constituir una nueva forma de tomar la ley con seriedad. Apenas si existe un discurso social sobre la tierra, ni siquiera en la modalidad más vernácula, que no tenga una connotación normativa. Cuando alguien dice ‘esta tierra me pertenece (me pertenecía o debiera pertenecerme)’, está haciendo un reclamo legal. Las categorías jurídicas son importantes fuera de los círculos profesionales de los abogados, jueces y agentes inmobiliarios porque son parte de las historias personales; más aún, su función es darle significado a las experiencias de la gente.
Cuando las categorías jurídicas no logran abarcar las representaciones normativas que hace un pueblo de la tierra, la ley pierde su significado. Si el razonamiento jurídico tradicional define la propiedad como un cúmulo de derechos, el enfoque narrativo puede enseñarnos a ver la propiedad como cúmulos de representaciones que permitirían ayudar a la gente a darle significado a su relación con la tierra. Quizás es esta la mayor lección que he aprendido de la conferencia “Who owns America?”: usar muchos lentes para observar el panorama y explorar las ideas comparativas acerca del carácter individual y comunitario de la propiedad, de los asentamientos informales y de los marcos jurídicos en todos los Estados Unidos.
Antonio Azuela es el Procurador Federal de Protección al Ambiente del gobierno de México. Es egresado de la Universidad Iberoamericana (Ciudad de México) y la Escuela de Leyes de la Universidad de Warwick (Inglaterra) y se ha desempeñado como asesor jurídico de varios gobiernos estatales y dependencias del gobierno federal en materia de legislación de la planificación urbana. El Dr. Azuela es autor del libro La ciudad, la propiedad y el derecho (El Colegio de México, 1989) y muchas otras publicaciones sobre legislación urbana y ambiental desde una perspectiva sociológica.
SHARE
The popular sectors in most Latin American cities are at a serious disadvantage in influencing land use planning and management in their communities. Although neighborhood activists may be well-organized locally, their interests are generally absent from decision making that can have broad implications for both urban land management and human rights. As part of its ongoing effort to help community leaders and public officials in Latin America become more effective in implementing critical land management policies, the Lincoln Institute supported an innovative educational program in Quito, Ecuador, in October.
“Urban Land Policies for Popular Sectors” was cosponsored by the Institute, the Center for Investigations CIUDAD, and the Center for Research in Urbanism and Design at the School of Architecture of Catholic University in Quito. This pilot program served as a forum for more than 50 representatives of low-income communities throughout Ecuador who met for the first time. They discussed ambiguities surrounding the formulation and implementation of urban land policies, and the causes and impacts of these policies on the use and regulation of land. Particular attention was given to equitable access to land ownership, affordable housing and self-help construction on the urban periphery.
Ecuador’s Minister of Housing and Urban Development opened the first session, and a team of academics, professional policy advisors, local and national government authorities, and opinion leaders offered a number of strategic planning workshops and panel presentations. The forum included both conceptual and practical discussions on urban land legislation that recognized the noticeable lack of information on land policy at the grassroots level.
Many questions underscored the situation in Ecuador, where insecurity of land, home and person has often led to violence and evictions. This important issue served to highlight the primacy of human rights in the urban land debate, and to reinforce the urgent need to consider a broad range of public policies and planning mechanisms. In addition to encouraging organizational networks among the urban poor and partnerships with other local and national popular movement leaders, the forum explored strategies to build solidarity among the various sectors.
Mayors from other Latin American cities attended the final roundtable session and concluded that the forces affecting poor urban residents in Ecuador are strikingly similar throughout the region. One clear lesson is that access to information is needed to allow every individual and community to influence the formulation and implementation of urban land policies based on democratic participation. An inventory of comparative case studies of community-based land use practices will be incorporated into follow-up programs to assist public officials and administrators in future land use planning and policymaking.
This Quito forum is an example of the Lincoln Institute’s educational goal to provide better knowledge to citizens affected by urban land policies. One outcome is the “Document of Quito,” a summary of the strategies arrived at by consensus among the participants. The challenge of turning their consensus into action will be the true test of the pilot program. The Institute may also collaborate with the United Nations Program on Urban Management for Latin America and the Caribbean to develop a common agenda in education, research and publications. The results would help expand discussions of urban land issues at the grassroots level and improve the ways public officials and popular leaders can work together to generate more effective policies.
Sonia Pereira is a visiting fellow of the Lincoln Institute. An environmental lawyer, biologist, social psychologist and activist on behalf of human rights, she has been widely recognized for her work on environmental protection for low-income communities in Brazil. She is a Citizen of the World Laureate (World Peace University, 1992) and a Global 500 Laureate (United Nations Environment Programme-UNEP, 1996).
SHARE
Driven by an awareness of population expansion and the difficulties that follow growth, Oregon’s Departments of Transportation and of Land Conservation and Development created the “Smart Development” program. The state retained Leland Consulting Group and Livable Oregon to define the goals of Smart Development, to identify obstacles to its execution and to enjoin the development community in discussions about how to implement its goals.
Smart Development is land use that:
In examining over 60 projects across the country that attempt comprehensive solutions to problems of urban growth, the consultant team looked at examples of “new urbanism,” as well as infill development, subdivisions, affordable housing, adaptive re-use and neighborhood revitalization. While common factors exist among all projects, none of the ones that are successful for their developers satisfy all Smart Development goals at once. The good news is that careful attention to local market conditions and demographics can result in successful projects that do satisfy many of these goals.
Why Smart Development Raises Financing Questions
Projects that satisfy some goals are unlikely to satisfy others because the goals may have different land use solutions which—when built in current markets—are in conflict. Proponents of neotraditional, transit-oriented, small-lot, pedestrian-oriented, mixed-use and grid-platted development have bundled these styles as a single concept. Developers and lenders do not understand the markets, values and risks for these hybrid products.
When we surveyed lenders about the factors that affect their decision to finance Smart Development projects, they explained unequivocally that financing of innovation required clear limits on the risk the lender could accept. While factors such as preleasing and on-site management were considered important, lenders strongly preferred working with a developer who had a track record, financial capacity and experience in the product type.
Lenders also expressed doubts about the willingness of the secondary market to lend on innovative projects. The problem is not innovation in physical design itself, but lenders’ anxieties about FannieMae’s “pass-through” requirement: the bank is financially responsible for the project through foreclosure of the asset. FannieMae support does not insulate the bank from the risk of default. Since banks do not want to own real estate, innovative project types that cannot show strong track records cause anxiety that is not allayed by securitization.
Overcoming the Obstacles
There are three technical obstacles to financing Smart Development:
A fourth obstacle is financial, relating to the first phase provision of new infrastructure.
Appraisal and Comparables: Standard appraisals usually focus on the housing product without accounting for the economic value produced by higher quality infrastructure, adjacent services, pedestrian amenities, and access to transit. By comparing only housing units, appraisals allot them the value that they would have in adjoining subdivisions that contain none of the amenities. Yet, new projects that we reviewed were often higher in price than the surrounding market. The quality of new designs may justify pricing, but appraisals based on the local area did not support the same percentage of purchase price as for nearby units. Smart Development projects also required proportionately higher cash down-payments, making the units harder to buy (and harder for the developer to sell).
It must be emphasized that Smart Development features are positive attributes that have long-term effects on value. Appraisal is regularly performed involving regression equations to model the economic value of positive externalities and could be applied to this area to produce new standards for evaluation of Smart Development. This process needs research but is well within the professional purview of the appraisal community.
New Market Studies: Smart Development, with its sophisticated land use and concepts such as inclusion of retail into subdivision development, attracts different demographic groups than standard development. Income levels per capita are higher, household sizes are smaller, and the use of transit and other services per person is often greater.
To overcome feasibility and appraisal obstacles, it is useful to consider Smart Development not as a single market concept but as a series of land use solutions that incorporate traditional real estate products in innovative ways. The market for the products can then be assessed in the same way as existing similar land uses that have attracted the demographic groups noted above—older neighborhoods with the sort of land use proposed in these projects. Through this method it is possible to avoid the pitfalls of “trend” studies that are unable to assess the market for new products.
Presentation of Smart Development to Lenders: The business plan for new products describes how products were arrived at in response to market niches and supporting demographics and sales potential. Every aspect of the business is revealed: project principals and roles; financial structure; applied start-up capital; reserves for operational deficits; and projections of revenues, cash flows and profits. The plan illustrates potential risks and suggests mitigations for risk should conditions not meet expectations.
Presentation of real estate development is typically done through market trend studies and architectural drawings. Neither of these modes addresses the issues raised in a business plan. It may be worthwhile for proactive lenders to consider offering assistance with business planning and presentation of innovative projects to alleviate the anxieties of capital investors and loan boards.
First Phase Financial Feasibility: In many western U.S. cities, grid street plans were built by the city and then builders provided the houses. After World War II, American cities stopped creating streets and the developers began providing the local infrastructure. The major public infrastructure dollars were funneled through federal agencies into regional infrastructure improvements (freeways) which sped private development into fringe areas.
It is now understood that highways and major arterials do not eliminate congestion but rather act as a subsidy for congestion-producing development. New requirements for grid streets, pedestrian amenities, sidewalks and parking strips with trees can make development either unaffordable to median buyers or financially infeasible, and there are no local support mechanisms equal to the magnitude of highway funding.
If the goals of Smart Development are serious social goals, then some level of first phase credit enhancement in exchange for fulfillment of social goals is appropriate. Such credit enhancement would serve to produce land use with the long-term benefits of lowered social cost through reduction of congestion and auto use and a better quality of life.
_____________________________
Edward H. Starkie, principal, and Bonnie Gee Yosick, associate, conduct economic analysis and research on downtown redevelopment for Leland Consulting Group, 325 Northwest 22nd Street, Portland, OR 97210; 503/222-1600.
SHARE
In June 2002, about 300 urban design practitioners, writers, ecologists, grassroots activists and students gathered in New York City for “The Humane Metropolis: People and Nature in the 21st Century—A Symposium to Celebrate and Continue the Work of William H. Whyte.” The Ecological Cities Project at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, organized the event with a grant from the Lincoln Institute and additional support from the Wyomissing Foundation, the National Park Service, the U.S. Forest Service, and Laurance S. Rockefeller, a longtime friend and supporter of Whyte’s work.
The symposium was held at the New York University Law School in consultation with NYU faculty, representatives of organizations and programs that continue Whyte’s work, including the Regional Plan Association, Project for Public Spaces, the Municipal Art Society, Trust for Public Land, and the Chicago Openlands Project, and with his widow, Jenny Bell Whyte, and their daughter, Alexandra Whyte. The University of Pennsylvania Press released a new edition of Whyte’s 1956 classic study of postwar suburbia, The Organization Man, at the symposium reception.
William H. “Holly” Whyte (1917-1999) was one of America’s most influential and respected commentators on cities, people and open spaces. Through his writings, particularly The Organization Man (1956), The Last Landscape (1968), and City: Rediscovering the Center (1988), he taught a generation of urban designers to view cities as habitats for people, rather than simply as economic machines, transportation nodes, or grandiose architectural stage-sets. As the United States approaches 300 million residents, of whom four-fifths live in cities or suburbs, Whyte’s vision of people-centered urban communities has never been needed more. And it seems safe to assume that this vision would today also incorporate recent insights on urban ecology and sustainability, in short a symbiosis of people and nature.
“The Man Who Loved Cities”
Norman Glazer (1999) described Holly Whyte as “The man who loved cities . . . one of America’s most influential observers of the city and the space around it . . .” Whyte gloried in parks, plazas, sidewalks and other pedestrian spaces that invite schmoozing (a Yiddish term he popularized) or simply encountering other people. Conversely, he deplored urban sprawl (apparently his term), particularly the waste of land, ugliness and isolation of tract development on the urban fringe. I stated in opening remarks the overriding premise of both the symposium and the book to follow:
Contrary to the trend toward privatization, security and “gatedness” so well documented by Dean Blakely [Blakely and Snyder 1997], twenty-first-century America needs a strong dose of Holly Whyte; namely, we need to rediscover the humanizing influence of urban shared spaces. “The Humane Metropolis” for present purposes means urban places that are “more green, more people-friendly, and more socially equitable.”
A native of the Brandywine Valley in eastern Pennsylvania, William H. Whyte, Jr., graduated from Princeton in 1939 and fought at Guadalcanal as an officer in the U.S. Marine Corps. Shortly after the war, he joined the editorial staff of Fortune magazine in New York, where he began to examine the culture, life style and residential milieu of postwar suburbia, leading to his 1956 classic The Organization Man. Among other findings, this book argued that the spatial layout of homes, parking, yards and common spaces is a key factor in promoting or inhibiting social contacts, helping to account for patterns of friendships versus isolation. Thus began a lifetime career devoted to better understanding how people interact in shared or common spaces.
Appalled by rapid development of his beloved Brandywine Valley, Whyte in 1958 co-organized an urban land use roundtable, jointly hosted by Fortune and Architectural Review, which attracted a who’s who of urban planners, economists and lawyers. His subsequent essay on “Urban Sprawl” added both a new term and a sense of urgency to the conversion of rural land for suburban development (Whyte 1957a).
But open space per se is not a panacea. In The Exploding Metropolis (Editors of Fortune 1957), Whyte and Jane Jacobs excoriated urban renewal programs that placed high-rise structures in the midst of amorphous open spaces modeled on Le Corbusier’s Ville Radieuse. In Whyte’s words: “The scale of the projects is uncongenial to the human being. The use of the open space is revealing; usually it consists of manicured green areas carefully chained off lest they be profaned, and sometimes, in addition, a big central mall so vast and abstract as to be vaguely oppressive. There is nothing close for the eye to light on, no sense of intimacy or of things being on a human scale” (Whyte 1957b, 21). And as Jane Jacobs observed in her 1961 classic The Death and Life of Great American Cities, without streets and street life, projects are dangerous as well as boring (and all that green grass was soon covered with old cars).
Whyte left Fortune in 1959 to pursue a broader array of urban projects. His first technical publication on Conservation Easements (1959) became the model for open space statutes in California, New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts and Maryland. In the early 1960s, he served as a consultant to the Outdoor Recreation Resources Review Commission, for which he prepared a 60-page report on Open Space Action (1962). His association with the Commission’s chair, Laurance S. Rockefeller, led to his role as a one-man think tank on urban land problems with the Rockefeller Brothers Fund, which provided him with an office in Rockefeller Center. Whyte also was a member of President Lyndon B. Johnson’s Task Force on Natural Beauty and chaired Governor Nelson Rockefeller’s Conference on Natural Beauty in New York. At the invitation of Donald Elliott, then chair of the New York City Plan Commission, Whyte wrote much of the 1969 Plan for New York City, which was acclaimed by The New York Times and the American Society of Planning Officials (Birch 1986). He also advised the city on revisions to its zoning ordinance, leading to improvement of public spaces established by private developers in exchange for density bonuses (Kayden 2000).
The turbulent year of 1968 yielded three environmental literary milestones: Ian McHarg’s Design with Nature, Garret Hardin’s “The Tragedy of the Commons,” and Holly Whyte’s The Last Landscape. The latter was Whyte’s “bible” for the fast-spreading movement to save open space in metropolitan America. Open space was to the conservationists of the 1960s what anti-congestion was to early twentieth-century progressives, and sustainability and smart growth are to environmentalists today. Whyte’s book embraced a variety of negative effects of poorly planned development, such as loss of prime farmland, inadequate recreation space, urban flooding, pollution of surface and groundwater, aesthetic blight, diminished sense of place, and isolation from nature. The Last Landscape confronted each of these and offered a legal toolbox to combat them, including cluster zoning, conservation easements, greenbelts, scenic roads, tax abatements and so on.
Whyte’s fascination with the social functions of urban space was the focus of his Street Life Project, a long-term study sponsored by the Rockefeller Brothers Fund. Based at Hunter College in Manhattan, where he served as distinguished professor of urban sociology, the project documented social activity in public spaces through interviews, mapping, diagrams and film. That research underlay Whyte’s 1980 book and film titled The Social Life of Small Urban Spaces and his 1988 capstone book, City: Rediscovering the Center.
From Park Forest in the 1950s to New York City in the 1980s, Whyte was a diehard urban environmental determinist. He believed that the design of shared spaces greatly affects the interaction of people who encounter each other in those spaces, and their resulting sense of well-being or discomfort in urban surroundings. This in turn helps to shape the success of cities and suburbs as congenial or alien environments for the millions who inhabit them. Paul Goldberger, architectural critic for The New Yorker, writes in his Foreword to The Essential William H. Whyte (LaFarge 2000):
His objective research on the city, on open space, on the way people use it, was set within what I think I must call a moral context. Holly believed with deep passion that there was such a thing as quality of life, and the way we build cities, the way we make places, can have a profound effect on what lives are lived within those places.
Celebrating and Continuing Holly Whyte’s Work
A major goal of the symposium was to revisit Holly Whyte’s work, which anticipated many of the ideas behind smart growth and new urbanism, and reintroduce him to a younger generation of planners and urbanists. This goal was accomplished during the opening sessions through personal tributes by friends and family (Donald Elliott, Amanda Burden, Fred Kent, Eugenie Birch, Lynden B. Miller and Alexandra Whyte) and fellow urban writers (Charles E. Little, Paul Goldberger and Tony Hiss). Planners Frank and Deborah Popper and environmental historian Adam Rome offered perspectives on Holly as viewed from the twenty-first century. A second goal was to trace the influence of his work in contemporary efforts to make cities and suburbs more livable and more humane, which was accomplished through an address by Carl Anthony of The Ford Foundation, and his introduction by Robert Yaro of the Regional Plan Association. Subsequent sessions, both plenary and concurrent, reviewed a variety of initiatives in New York City and around the nation that carry on the spirit of Holly Whyte. Session topics included:
Some of these topics departed somewhat from Whyte’s own areas of focus, but the organizers felt that he would have applauded the inclusiveness of our agenda. He no doubt would have added many topics, such as urban gardens, green roofs, brownfield reuse and ecological restoration, if he were here to write a sequel to The Last Landscape today. In particular, no appraisal of current approaches to making cities more humane would be adequate if it failed to consider issues of social justice in relation to urban sprawl and inner-city land use or abuse.
Next Steps
The symposium deliberately closed without the usual “Where do we go from here?” session, but the next major task is to produce an edited volume of selected papers presented at the symposium, and possibly a film. We hope “The Humane Metropolis” (symposium and book) will provide a template for regional symposia in other cities and metropolitan regions of the U.S. These could be locally funded and planned with guidance as requested from the Ecological Cities Project and its allies across the country.
An elusive but critical function of events like “The Humane Metropolis” is the energizing of participants through sharing of experience and specialized knowledge. Feedback from speakers and attendees indicates the symposium stimulated new contacts among participants from different disciplines and geographic regions. In particular, it seems to have well served a key goal of the Ecological Cities Project, to promote dialogue between urbanists and natural scientists. According to Peter Harnik, director of Trust for Public Land’s Green Cities Program, “You are on the cutting edge of an up-and-coming topic that is given almost no attention by anyone else—since urban experts rarely talk about nature, and conservationists virtually never talk about cities.” As the consummate synthesizer of things urban, Holly Whyte should be beaming with approval.
Rutherford H. Platt is director of the Ecological Cities Project at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, and organizer of the symposium and related activities. The full list of speakers and other information about the symposium may be found at http://www.ecologicalcities.org.
References
Birch, E. L. 1986. The Observation Man. Planning (March): 4-8.
Blakely, E. J. and M. G. Snyder. 1997. Fortress America: Gated Communities in the United States. Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Press and Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.
Daily, G C., ed. 1997. Nature’s Services: Societal Dependence on Natural Systems. Washington, DC: Island Press.
Editors of Fortune, 1957. The Exploding Metropolis. Garden City, NY: Doubleday Anchor.
Glazer, N. 1999. The Man Who Loved Cities. The Wilson Quarterly (Spring) 23(2): 27-34.
Hardin, G. 1968. The Tragedy of the Commons. Science 162: 1243-1248.
Jacobs, J. 1961. The Death and Life of Great American Cities. New York: Random House Vintage.
Kayden, J. 2000. Privately Owned Public Space: The New York City Experience. New York: Wiley.
LaFarge, A., Ed. 2000. The Essential William H. Whyte. New York: Fordham University Press.
McHarg, I. 1968. Design with Nature. New York: Garden City Press.
Whyte, W. H. 1956. The Organization Man. Garden City, NY: Doubleday. Republished in 2002 by the University of Pennsylvania Press.
_____. 1957a. Urban Sprawl in Editors of Fortune, The Exploding Metropolis. Garden City, NY: Doubleday Anchor.
_____. 1957b. Are Cities Un-American? in Editors of Fortune, The Exploding Metropolis. Garden City, NY: Doubleday Anchor.
_____. 1959. Conservation Easements. Washington, DC: Urban Land Institute.
_____. 1962. Open Space Action. Study Report 15 prepared for the Outdoor Recreation Resources Review Commission, Washington, DC.
_____. 1968. The Last Landscape. Garden City: Doubleday. Republished in 2001 by the University of Pennsylvania Press.
_____. 1980. The Social Life of Small Urban Spaces. Washington, DC: The Conservation Foundation. Reprinted by Project for Public Spaces, Inc.
_____. 1988. City: Rediscovering the Center. Garden City, NY: Doubleday.
(Picture of Holly White taken by Kelly Campbell)
SHARE
Over the last 50 years cities have been the scene of major transformations that have allowed them to evolve from being centers primarily for economic activities to a combination of more specialized productive, commercial and service functions. The results are mixed, but in those cities considered most successful, beauty and humanism have managed to coexist with economic efficiency and effectiveness, significantly increasing the creation of wealth and the well-being of the community at large. In this context, developments known as “large urban projects” seek to rescue dilapidated areas such as historic centers, former industrial and military zones, vacant railroads and airports, and decaying housing settlements and transform them into vibrant residential areas able to generate tax revenues, employment, and public and social benefits to enhance quality of life.
The redevelopment of waterfronts creates tremendous opportunities to reintegrate historic city centers with their adjacent waterways and to facilitate growth that would otherwise move to the outskirts of the city. Many concerns have to be addressed, however. What type and scale of development are desirable and possible? How can meaningful relationships be established between the old and the new? What are the impacts on the environment and the existing infrastructure? What public policies and investments are needed? What are the roles of the public and private sectors? How do we organize the planning process, including building political and community support?
Amsterdam and Havana are cases where waterfronts provide challenges and opportunities to address this complex balancing act. Both are UNESCO World Heritage Cities dealing with the pressures of profit-driven real estate development and the desire to protect both their historic centers and the interests of their contemporary populations.
In December 2003 the Lincoln Institute, with Havana’s Group for the Development of the Capital (GDIC), the Office of the Historian and the Port Authority of the Ministry of Transportation, cosponsored a seminar in Havana at which waterfront experts from Amsterdam, Rotterdam, New York and Panama shared their experiences with Cuban planners and public officials. This article elaborates on the Amsterdam presentation, in particular how management, experiments, planning and land policies enabled an impressive transformation of that city’s former industrial waterfronts, and offers lessons that may be applicable for Havana.
Planning and Development Policies in the Netherlands
The Netherlands has a well-known tradition of strong national planning and development, precipitated by the housing shortage since World War II. The notion of limited space drives the country’s development policies and its commitment to preserving green and agricultural areas between cities. Housing, infrastructure, retail and office development, environmental protection, agriculture, water management and open space are major concerns at both the national and local levels. With two-thirds of their country below sea level, the Dutch have always pursued new ways of relating to water. National planning policies thus concentrate on facilitating growth in designated areas, controlling urban sprawl and reorganizing inner cities without neglecting major infrastructure and the management and control of green spaces and water bodies.
The Dutch rediscovered the importance of their cities in the 1980s after the rapid growth of suburbs and new towns caused increasing congestion and a lack of livable spaces. The idea of a “compact city” was adopted in the nation’s Fourth Memorandum of Urban Planning (1988), advocating concentration on the urban nexus in order to “redevelop currently abandoned areas.” Typical sites include Rotterdam’s Kop van Zuid and Amsterdam’s Eastern Docklands. The compact city concept was broadened in the 1990s with the notion of the “complete city,” marrying concepts of multiple and intensive land use with the concentration of functions and activities in a melting pot of lifestyles.
The reorganization of transit areas and transport routes is another planning priority that aims to combine different transport functions and discourage the use of cars. Examples include the Airport City plan for the Amsterdam Schiphol Airport and the area around the future high-speed train station Zuidas-WTC. The Zuidas master plan creates enough space over the railway and highway for the construction of 7 million square feet of offices, 1,500 dwellings, retail space, hotels, museums and a new park.
Despite the national government’s plans and ambitions, financial resources determine its role in development projects. The significant decrease in national housing and development subsidies since 1990 has highlighted the strategic importance of the local government in the (re)development process. However, the Amsterdam case also shows that management capacity, reliable development partners and creative financial and development tools are instrumental for redevelopment.
Amsterdam’s Land and Housing Policies
Amsterdam is the cultural and financial capital of the Netherlands and the largest city in the Randstad-Holland or Deltametropolis region of 6 million people. The city has close to 750,000 inhabitants, 375,000 housing units and 417,000 jobs, and has one of the world’s largest conserved historic city centers.
Amsterdam’s land policies are strategic tools in the city’s redevelopment strategies. In 1896 the city democratically decided on a land-lease system to acquire land and lease it to future users. Important arguments for leasing were that increases in land value should benefit the entire community and the city should determine the use of scarce land to prevent speculation and undesirable development.
The land-lease system works as follows. The city’s land corporation acquires land and leases it to private developers for periods of 49 or 99 years. Leaseholders pay an annually adjusted amount for use of the land, determined by location, square feet of development, type of use (office, retail, affordable or market rate housing, open space, etc.), new or existing buildings, and parking (on the street or inside). The city determines the price of land through a residual land value method that links the market value of the property, the land and the construction costs. The value of land equals the sales value of the property minus the construction costs determined by the location (costs are considerably higher in the historic neighborhoods). In 2002 leases totaled 59 million euros.
Acquisition of privately owned land—as in the Eastern Docklands area—is financed through loans to the city’s land corporation, whose interest payments account for 80 percent of its expenses. Excess revenues are used to support the city’s development and rehabilitation efforts, particularly for commercially unprofitable projects such as parks and open space. This system also serves political objectives such as the provision and geographic distribution of affordable housing. In a high-density city like Amsterdam, land is scarce and its use is subject to much real estate pressure. As the landowner the city maintains a strategic role in determining the use, quality and amount of land available for development.
Amsterdam relies on its relationships with the city’s civic and nonprofit development groups for support and implementation of its plans, and the role of housing associations is critical. These associations were created as a result of the housing law of 1901, which allowed for union-related associations and religious organizations to establish nonprofit housing associations. With national subsidies and strong support from local governments, they have built thousands of units, especially in the neighborhoods damaged during the war. In some of these areas over 75 percent of the units is owned by housing associations.
The deregulation of the Dutch housing market in the early 1990s strongly affected the housing associations’ position as both owners and developers. They lost most of the national housing subsidies, but in exchange the government granted them more financial and institutional freedom to manage their assets. As a result, the nonprofit sector had to become more professionalized, and many of the housing associations merged to create economies of scale. Today, Amsterdam counts 13 housing associations that manage over 200,000 units, ranging from 1,400 to 37,500 units each. Many associations successfully positioned themselves as trustworthy and financially stable developers. Moreover, they became strategic partners for commercial developers looking for experts on affordable housing and partners for creating goodwill for their projects with the city and community groups. More and more, they develop mixed-income projects in collaboration with private developers using creative financial packages. In 2000, for example, half of the units built by housing associations were market rate. The resulting profits financed the other half as affordable and moderate-income units.
In an unexpected side effect of the housing reform, these associations have become leaders in setting high standards for urban design and planning. With their commitment to the city and to community development they have been willing to take risks with low-cost but provocative designs, and many of their projects have become international examples for innovative affordable housing concepts.
Waterfront Redevelopment in Amsterdam
Amsterdam is a city founded on water and around a dam that separated the Amstel River from the IJ River. In the seventeenth century, Amsterdam was the world’s most prominent commercial and maritime center. The canals and waterways built in that era still marvel the millions of tourists who visit the city every year. The relationship between the city and its waterfront has not always been organic; mistakes have been made, such as the 1898 decision to build Amsterdam’s central railway station in the middle of the port area. The station effectively ruined the visual relationship and physical connections between the IJ, the port and the dam, destroying the ancient heart of the capital.
In the past 40 years, most port functions have moved closer to the sea to handle container ships, while the large financial institutions moved to the south axis of the city due to a lack of space and poor accessibility. The inner city of Amsterdam, which is adjacent to the old port areas, remains the region’s largest center for retail, culture and entertainment and is well suited for pedestrians, bicyclists and public transportation. Although the port continues to play an important economic role for Amsterdam, the city essentially turned its back to the harbor for many years.
Major areas of Amsterdam are now being converted and rehabilitated, while entirely new areas are being built on artificial islands. The city’s southern and northern waterfront system of old piers and wet docks is becoming an attractive residential and mixed-use district with retail and cultural centers, new transit, parks and waterfront promenades, most of which mix contemporary design with the historic maritime character. The construction of IJburg, an overspill area in the IJsselmeer Lake, is designed to accommodate 45,000 new inhabitants.
Discussion about the redevelopment of the Eastern Docklands and the rest of the southern IJ waterfront began in the early 1980s. Following years of negotiations between the municipality, developers and well-organized community groups, the plan, currently in the final phases of construction, proposed a series of high-density, moderate-rise communities on the water, thus remaking a historic and cultural bond with the water. Housing is the major component of all development on the IJ bank, and 40 percent of it is affordable. In many cases the city’s professional nonprofit housing associations have led the development and encouraged private investment.
The formal planning process for the IJ-waterfront started with a design competition in 1984. Initially the city government endorsed the IJ Boulevard master plan by Rem Koolhaas for the entire 10 km southern waterfront. The redevelopment program incorporated a range of uses, but focused on office development and supporting amenities to stop the exodus of corporations and to finance the proposed infrastructure program. The plan was to be implemented by the Amsterdam Waterfront Finance Company (AWF), a public-private partnership of the city and one master developer/investor with unprecedented authority. Subsequent controversy over the size and cost of the plan, the collapse of the office market in the late 1980s, and growing discontent with the plan among the city’s prominent civic and community groups led to the dismantling of the partnership in 1994.
The city then changed its approach and passed a strategic memorandum titled “Anchors of the IJ” in 1995. This plan proposed to build on the existing island structure with a phased development starting at the outer edges and working toward the Central Station area. This pragmatic and organic approach concentrated the city’s efforts and resources on master plans for smaller and more manageable areas. The development program shifted toward housing with public buildings and squares (the anchors) at strategic locations within a framework of larger infrastructure investments. The national government committed to building a new tunnel in the early phases of the planning process and a light-rail system at a later phase. Urban design and development programs were determined by site potential and strong community input and were modified over time based on experience, new ideas and changing market conditions. Since the city owns the land and thus controls how much land is available for development, it encouraged private developers to team up with nonprofit housing groups to bid for portions of the waterfront. The Amsterdam case underscores the fact that strategy, planning tools, leadership and partners are interdependent and instrumental for redevelopment that benefits the community at large.
Implications for Havana
The uniqueness of Havana’s waterfront makes it a formidable site for innovative and comprehensive redevelopment and for avoiding the mistakes that have spoiled the charm of many other cities around the world. Havana is Cuba’s capital city, home to more than 2 million of the country’s 11 million citizens. Prior to the 1959 revolution Cuba was the leading business and tourist destination in the Caribbean, but its subsequent political isolation and lack of economic development have resulted in a mostly unspoiled historic city now in desperate need of repair. Since the collapse of the former Soviet Union and the subsequent loss of a market for 65 percent of Cuban exports, Havana has focused on attracting investment through real estate ventures. Most joint ventures (350 were active in 2001, worth $2.6 billion) are with Canadian and European companies in the booming hospitality industry. Tourism and related activities again generate much-needed foreign currency, especially in Havana where historic downtown hotels have been upgraded and new office buildings are being built in nearby elegant neighborhoods to the west.
The government recognizes the historic and economic value of Old Havana’s architectural heritage and strongly supports renovation and rehabilitation of its historic buildings and squares. The progress and benefits are impressive, considering the limited public resources and the state of the city’s infrastructure and buildings. The Office of the Historian, the development authority for Old Havana, has stimulated revenues that generated $50 million for social and historic preservation programs in 1999 alone (Nunez, Brown and Smolka 2000).
Havana’s waterfront is considered a key asset for future growth and therefore a key area of concern. The waterfront includes the famous Malecon Boulevard as well as the lesser-known inner-harbor districts on the east side of Old Havana. Along the shores of this bay, historic warehouses and small communities are mixed with decaying infrastructure, port facilities, heavy industry and shipyards. Many different city and state agencies are involved in planning for this vast area, yet no clear development directive has been defined and most players lack the authority to take that role. In response, some agencies have developed plans for individual properties, but implementation is unlikely because there is no funding in place and the oil refineries across the bay produce heavy fumes, which discourage some tourist-oriented activities.
Since land in Havana is publicly owned, capturing the increase of land values could create a strategic and sustainable source for financing much-needed public investments in affordable housing, public space and infrastructure. The local government can lead the redevelopment process; however, support and collaboration with regional and national public partners will be important for larger investments. Flexibility in program and a focus on process instead of blueprint planning is essential to accommodate changing market conditions and emerging opportunities. The latter is especially evident as development depends significantly on private investments.
With its historic beauty, proximity to the United States and lack of development for more than 40 years, Havana draws the attention of developers from throughout the world. It has the potential to become a model livable city that has preserved most of its heritage and is not spoiled by the automobile. It is in the interest of all of us, but especially the Cuban people, to ensure that attention to both high-quality redevelopment and the public interest determines the transformation of Havana’s waterfront.
Frank Uffen is managing director of New Amsterdam Development Consultants in New York. Other Dutch participants in the seminar who contributed to this article are Riek Bakker (partner, BVR Consultancy for Urban Development, Landscape and Infrastructure, Rotterdam), Ad Hereijgers (partner, DE LIJN Office for Urban Development, Amsterdam), Willem van Leuven (project manager, Amsterdam Project Management Bureau) and Rutger Sypkens (project developer, Ballast Nedam Construction, Amsterdam).
Reference
Nunez, Ricardo, H. James Brown, and Martim Smolka. 2000. Using land value to promote development in Cuba. Land Lines 12(2):1–4.
SHARE
Megapolitan areas are integrated networks of metro- and micropolitan areas. The name “megapolitan” plays off Jean Gottmann’s 1961 “megalopolis” label by using the same prefix. We find that the United States has ten such areas, six in the eastern part of the U.S. and four in the West (see Figure 1).
Megapolitan areas extend into 35 states, including every state east of the Mississippi River except Vermont. As of 2003, megapolitan areas contained less than one-fifth of all land area in the lower 48 states, but captured more than two-thirds of total U.S. population, or almost 200 million people. The 15 most populous U.S. metropolitan areas are also found in these megapolitan areas.
Gottmann’s megalopolis idea influenced academics but had no impact on the way the U.S. Census Bureau defines space. Today the idea of a functional trans-metropolitan geography is one that warrants renewed attention (see Carbonell and Yaro 2005). Regional economies clearly extend beyond an individual metropolitan area, and the megapolitan concept suggests a new geography to show how these economies are linked.
The Census seeks simple but definitive methods for describing and organizing space. Metropolitan areas were officially designated in 1949 to show functional economic relationships. Commuting, which at that time mostly joined suburban residents to jobs in the cities, was an easily measured and universal proxy for this linkage. Thus the center and periphery existed as a single integrated unit linked by employment dependency.
A direct functional relationship such as commuting does not exist at the megapolitan scale, however. The area is simply too large to make daily trips possible between distant sections. But commuting is just one—albeit key—way to show regional cohesion. Other integrating forces are goods movement, business linkages, cultural commonality and physical environment. A megapolitan area could represent a sales district for a branch office, or, in the case of the Northeast or Florida, a zone of fully integrated toll roads where an E-Z Pass or SunPass collection system works across multiple metropolitan areas.
A megapolitan area as defined here has the following characteristics:
Figure 1 highlights the key interstate highways linking major metros within megapolitan areas. Interstate 95 plays a critical role in megapolitan mobility from Maine to Florida. Because of the large population centers in the Northeast and Peninsula megas, the number of people living within 50 miles of this interstate exceeds all others in the nation. The West’s bookend to I-95 is I-5, which runs through three separate megapolitan areas. In 2000 more than 64 million people lived within 50 miles of I-95, and more than 37 million lived within the same distance of I-5. Most of this population is found in the two megapolitan areas along I-95 and the three straddling I-5. Interstate 10 also links three megas: Southland, Valley of the Sun and Gulf Coast. Other places where key interstates help define megapolitan growth are the I-35 Corridor from Kansas City, Missouri, to San Antonio, Texas; and I-85 in the Piedmont linking Atlanta, Georgia to Raleigh, North Carolina (Lang and Dhavale 2005).
Big Places, Big Numbers
Figure 2 shows the 2003 population and current growth rates in the ten megapolitan areas. As a group, megapolitans outpaced the national growth rate for the first three years of the decade—3.89 percent versus 3.33 percent, gaining 7.5 million new residents over the period. Only two megapolitan areas, Northeast and Midwest, trailed the nation as a whole in growth, but these are also by far the most the populous megas, with more than 50 and 40 million residents by 2003 respectively. Together, at 90.5 million people, they surpass the population of Germany, the largest European Union nation with 82.5 million residents. Unlike Germany, however, the Northeast and Midwest are still growing. They form the old industrial heart of the nation and still represent the largest trans-metropolitan development in the U.S.
The fastest growing megapolitan areas are in the Sunbelt, and several of them experienced gains above 5 percent for the period 2000 to 2003. The fast-growth megas, ranked by their development pace, are Valley of the Sun, Peninsula, I-35 Corridor, Southland and Piedmont. Two megapolitans now fall below the 10 million resident mark, but based on an extrapolation of current growth rates, Cascadia will pass this population size in 2025, while the booming Valley of the Sun will reach the mark by 2029.
Megapolitan areas also vary by physical size (see Figure 3). The Midwest is the largest with 119,822 square miles, an area slightly smaller than the state of New Mexico. The Piedmont is almost as expansive with 91,093 square miles. The more populous Northeast by contrast comprises just 70,062 square miles. By this calculation, the Northeast would appear to be the densest megapolitan area. However, the square mileage figure for Southland compared to its population density is significantly distorted by the inclusion of Riverside and San Bernardino counties in California, which are two of the largest counties in land area in the U.S.
Megapolitans will account for most new population and job growth from 2005 to 2040, and they will likely capture a large share of money spent on construction (Nelson 2004). These areas are projected to add 83 million people and 64 million jobs by 2040, and they will require an additional 32 million new housing units, including both new construction and replacement units. By 2030 half of the built environment will have been constructed in the previous 30 years, and by 2040 the figure could reach nearly two-thirds. The money needed to build the residential and commercial structures to house this growth is staggering. It will take an estimated $10 trillion to fund megapolitan residential construction and an additional $23 trillion for nonresidential structures.
Megapolitan Form and Function
Megapolitan areas vary in spatial form, ranging from a clear corridor or linear form to vast urban galaxies, and many megas exhibit both spatial patterns. Figure 4 showing the I-35 Corridor highlights all megapolitan counties in light shading and urbanized areas in the darker zones, lined up like beads along a string. The dark black lines are the interstate highways, and the light ones are the county boundaries. The biggest single node in the corridor is Dallas, and the only major metropolitan area that lies away from I-35 is Tulsa. The galactic form of the Piedmont area (Figure 5) illustrates interstate highway corridors lacing the region with a web of cities dominated by metropolitan Atlanta.
Figure 6 provides a summary of selected megapolitan features. The “signature industry” label refers to the businesses that are popularly associated with each area. These may not be the largest industry in the region, but they are key sectors that play to each megapolitan’s current competitive advantages. Thus, high tech is to NorCal what finance is to the Northeast or aerospace is to Cascadia—the sector in which the megapolitan dominates either U.S. or world markets.
A county-level analysis of political trends, based on the 2000 and 2004 presidential elections, shows that five megas lean Republican and five Democratic. The most Democratic area is NorCal, while the I-35 Corridor is the most Republican. Midwest and Peninsula are the most swing megapolitans, with the former tilted to the Democrats and the latter to the Republicans. In 2004 Democratic presidential candidate John Kerry won the megapolitan area popular vote by 51.6 percent to 48.4 for President George W. Bush—almost the exact reverse of the nation as a whole. Kerry received 46.4 million megapolitan votes, while Bush won 43.5 million. The 90 million total megapolitan ballots accounted for three-quarters of all votes cast, while the fourth quarter of the votes went heavily for Bush. The president’s margin of victory in nonmegapolitan America was 60/40, which approximates his 2004 vote share in rural America (Lang, Dhavale and Haworth 2004).
Mega Policy Implications
Any new geographic category can reshape public policy. Given that megapolitan areas as proposed here redefine the space where two out of three Americans reside, their impact could prove significant. There are countless ways that megas may alter the policy landscape, but this discussion focuses on two issues: urban sprawl and transportation planning.
Megapolitan Sprawl. The emergence of megapolitan areas comes not only from rapid population growth over the past several decades; it also reflects how the nation is developing. Since 1950 the most significant urban pattern has been decentralization. Even by the time Gottmann first observed the megalopolis extending north and south from New York City, the emergence of the “spread city” was apparent (Regional Plan Association 1960). Suburbs from Boston to Washington were racing toward one another, making the Northeast a single extended megapolitan space.
The different ways megapolitan areas develop also provide insight into how urban decentralization varies around the nation to produce distinct regional built forms. This knowledge can improve the way regions respond to the consequences of sprawl. As measured by built density, sprawl differs in character among regions from “dense sprawl” in places such as Los Angeles, where even the edge of the region may have subdivisions with small lots, to the edges of southern metropolitan areas that feature low-density development and constitute a quasi-rural environment (Lang 2002).
The percent of metropolitan residents living in “urbanized areas” (defined by the Census Bureau as having densities at or exceeding 1,000 residents per square mile) also shows variation in regional development patterns. A metropolitan area with a substantial number of residents below this threshold indicates a low-density urban fringe. Among the megapolitans, Southland is the most urbanized, with virtually all (98.17 percent) of the region’s residents living in these areas. By contrast, just over two-thirds of Piedmont citizens live in urbanized places. The edge of megapolitan development in Southland is sharp and well-defined, as indicated by the very small share of people living in the nonurbanized fringe, whereas the Piedmont edge is amorphous, given that one in three people live outside its urbanized areas.
Nationally, nearly 25.8 million megapolitan residents live in low-density, nonurbanized areas, mostly east of the Mississippi. Even the intensely built Northeast—the place that inspired Gottmann—has more than 5.2 million residents living in places with less than 1,000 people per square mile. Piedmont has just over 6 million in these same places, while the Midwest mega has almost 6.7 million.
This analysis indicates that there is a Southland versus Piedmont style of megapolitan sprawl, which could affect regionwide strategies for addressing future growth. For example, given that Southland is already densely built, altering its pattern of sprawl could mean better mixing of land uses to facilitate pedestrian or transit-oriented development. The same strategy would not work in Piedmont where densities are low.
Super MPOs and Transportation Planning. There are clearly cases where the megapolitan scale is the most logical one at which to address problems. Consider the recent debate over the fate of Amtrak, America’s National Railroad Passenger Corporation. The Bush administration wants to eliminate all Amtrak funding in the 2006 federal budget. Defending this action, U.S. Secretary of Transportation Norman Mineta (2005) wrote in the New York Times, “The problem is not that Americans don’t use trains; it is that Amtrak has failed to keep up with the times, stubbornly sticking to routes and services, even as they lose money and attract few users.”
Amtrak is a national rail system with a profitable line connecting big northeastern cities, which offsets losses on service to remote rural locals. Megapolitan areas have two qualities—concentrated populations and corridor form—that make them excellent geographic units around which Amtrak could be reorganized. These megapolitans constitute an American Europe—a space so intensely settled that high-capacity infrastructure investment between centers makes sense.
If officially designated by the U.S. Census Bureau, megapolitan areas would be the country’s largest geographic unit. Their rise could spark a discussion of what types of planning needs to be done on this scale. In Europe, megapolitan-like spatial planning now guides new infrastructure investment such as high-speed trains between networked cities. The U.S. should do the same. The interstate highways that run through megapolitan areas, such as I-95 from Boston to Washington, DC; I-35 from San Antonio to Kansas City; and I-85 from Raleigh to Atlanta, would benefit greatly from unified planning. A new Census Bureau megapolitan definition would legitimize large-scale transportation planning and trigger similar efforts in such areas as economic development and environmental impact.
Federal transportation aid could be tied to megapolitan planning much the way it has recently been linked to metropolitan areas. The Intermodal Surface Transit Efficiency Act of 1991 (ISTEA) required regions to form metropolitan planning organizations (MPOs) in order to receive federal money for transportation projects. In a similar vein, new super MPOs could result from future legislation that directs megapolitan areas to plan on a vast scale.
At the moment there is no guiding vision of how to invest the nation’s transportation funds. We are only keepers of past visions, most notably the Interstate Highway System, which for better or worse at least demonstrated a national will for investment. The interstates also completed a nationwide project, begun in the nineteenth century with canals and railways, to provide equal access and capacity across a continental nation. The investment paid off, as witnessed by the emergence of Sunbelt boomtowns such as Phoenix, but the next stage of American spatial evolution is at hand. The U.S. has moved beyond the simple filling in of its land and is now witnessing intensive megapolitan growth. Infrastructure investment must move beyond basic links across the entire country to focus on significantly improving capacity within megapolitan areas.
Robert E. Lang is director of the Metropolitan Institute and associate professor of Urban Affairs and Planning at Virginia Tech (www.mi.vt.edu). His research on megapolitan areas is supported in part by the Lincoln Institute through a 2005 Planning and Development Research Fellowship. Dawn Dhavale is a doctoral candidate in Urban Affairs and Planning and research associate at the Metropolitan Institute.
References
Carbonell, Armando, and Robert D. Yaro. 2005. American spatial development and the new megalopolis. Land Lines 17(2): 1–4.
Gottmann, Jean. 1961. Megalopolis: The urbanized northeastern seaboard of the United States. New York: Twentieth-Century Fund.
Lang, Robert E. 2002. Open spaces, bounded places: Does the American West’s arid landscape yield dense metropolitan growth? Housing Policy Debate 13(4): 755–778.
Lang, Robert E., and Dawn Dhavale. 2005. Beyond megalopolis: Exploring America’s new “megapolitan” geography. Census Report 05:01. Alexandria, VA: Metropolitan Institute at Virginia Tech (June). www.mi.vt.edu
Lang, Robert E., Dawn Dhavale, and Kristin Haworth. 2004. Micro Politics: The 2004 presidential vote in small-town America. Census Report 04:03. Alexandria, VA: Metropolitan Institute at Virginia Tech (November).
Mineta, Norman Y. 2005. Starving Amtrak to save it. New York Times, February 23: A19.
Nelson, Arthur C. 2004. Toward a new metropolis: The opportunity to rebuild America. Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Metropolitan Policy Program Survey Series (December).
Regional Plan Association. 1960. Plan for greater New York. New York: Regional Plan Association.
U.S. Bureau of the Census. 2005. Census 2000 Summary File 1 (SF 1) 100-Percent Data. http://factfinder.census.gov/.
One of the characteristics that makes working on land policy in Latin America so fascinating is the ever-present contrast between the characteristics that are common throughout the region and the anomalies that make each country’s relationship with land unique.
