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The complexity that characterizes the interaction of transportation and land use in urban areas is matched by the variety of the disciplines called on to address these issues, including economics, urban planning and civil engineering. In recent decades, communication among scholars in these disciplines has improved and the acceptance of a common base of theory and method, based on economics, is increasing. The Taxation, Resources and Economic Development (TRED) conference on “Transportation and Land Use” held at the Lincoln Institute in October 1996 focused on these issues. Ten papers presented at that conference are now published in a special issue of the journal Urban Studies. The papers are organized into four groups as summarized below.
Trends in Urban Development
Gregory Ingram’s paper on “Metropolitan Development: What Have We Learned?” documents the worldwide prevalence of several trends that characterize modern urbanization. Employment decentralization and the emergence of multiple employment centers in large metropolitan areas are observed worldwide in both developing and developed countries. Although employment continues to be more centralized than population, the typical Central Business District does not contain more than about 20 percent of jobs, and much smaller percentages are common in the U.S. Manufacturing employment has become more decentralized than service employment. Decentralization has reduced traffic congestion and travel distances and has contributed to a weakening of transit systems. The increased affordability of motorized transportation worldwide has led to more trip-making, with work trips typically being less than a third of all trips in urbanized areas.
Peter Gordon, Harry Richardson and Gang Yu find evidence that the suburbanization and exurbanization of employment in the U.S. has picked up its pace since 1988. In their paper, “Metropolitan and Non-Metropolitan Employment Trends in the U.S.: Recent Evidence and Implications,” they argue that the ability of manufacturing and even of services to locate in exurban and rural areas, shunning inner-suburban and central city locations, is a consequence of the continued weakening of the agglomeration economies that shaped the now outdated downtown-oriented city.
Robert Cervero and Kang-Li Wu examine the relationship between average commuting distance and employment subcentering in their paper, “Subcentering and Commuting: Evidence from the San Francisco Bay Area, 1980-1990.” They are concerned with changes in employment densities in 22 employment subcenters and with the commuting distances and travel times of those employed in these subcenters. The authors find that employment densities have increased more in the outlying suburban centers and that commuting to these centers has experienced modal shifts away from transit and in favor of the automobile. According to their data, while jobs in these centers grew by 18 percent during the decade, average one-way commuting distances to these 22 subcenters increased by 12 percent, and average one-way travel times rose by only 5 percent.
These findings are consistent with theory: with the number of subcenters fixed and the degree of spatial mismatch between jobs and housing invariant with job growth, an increase in the number of jobs in each subcenter should result in longer commutes on average. If new subcenters are spawned in between existing ones or new ones develop in outlying areas-something that does not appear to have occurred in the Bay Area-then average commutes should decrease. The 22 subcenters account for less than half of total employment in the Bay Area, the rest of the jobs being broadly dispersed throughout. Because such dispersed employment is not included in their study, we do not know about the total effect of job decentralization on average commute distances and times.
Genevieve Giuliano’s paper, “Information Technology, Work Patterns and Intrametropolitan Location: A Case Study,” examines the impact of information technology, including the advent of fax machines, computers, modems and the internet. One of her central observations is that while the U.S. labor force increased by 14 percent from 1980 to 1990, the “contingent workforce,” a diverse group of temporary workers, part-time workers, the self-employed and business service workers, increased much faster, from about 25 to 33 percent.
This trend implies that the information revolution is causing structural shifts in the labor force as more and more workers offer temporary services to a variety of employers and, as a result, do not have a long-term attachment to any one employer. Theory suggests that such workers should locate in a way that is sensitive to their expected accessibility to jobs. Also, the advent of information technology should facilitate “telecommuting,” thus reducing the need for physical proximity to jobs.
Giuliano uses the 1990 U.S. Census Public Use Microsample for the Los Angeles region to compare the residential location and commuting patterns of contingent and non-contingent workers. The socioeconomic complexity of contingent workers makes it difficult to draw clear conclusions, but Guiliano does find that those contingent workers who live in suburban areas are likely to live in high amenity areas. Controlling for socioeconomic factors, commuting distances are shorter for part-time workers than they are for full-time workers, and among full-time workers the self-employed have the shortest commutes.
Agglomeration Economies
The next two papers offer empirical contributions on intra-urban employment agglomeration. “Spatial Variation in Office Rents within the Atlanta Region,” by Christopher Bollinger, Keith Ihlanfeldt and David Bowes, is a hedonic rent study for office buildings in the Atlanta area from 1990 to 1996. The authors find that part of the rent differences among office buildings is due to differences in wage rates, transportation rates and proximity to concentrations of office workers. More importantly, the convenience of face-to-face meetings facilitated by office agglomerations is also reflected in office rents, providing evidence that agglomerative tendencies continue to be important in explaining office concentrations, despite the ability of information technology to reduce the need for some such contacts. In their paper, “Population Density in Suburban Chicago: A Bid-Rent Approach,” Daniel McMillen and John McDonald show that population density patterns in the Chicago MSA are strongly influenced by proximity to subcenters, which include the Central Business District, O’Hare Airport and 16 other centers. Site-specific variables such as access to commuter rail stations or highway interchanges have smaller influences on population densities.
Travel Behavior and Residential Choice
Among the challenges posed by the evolving trends in transportation and land use is a better explanation of the role of non-work travel in residential location decisionmaking. Motorized mobility has greatly increased non-work travel, thus weakening the relevance of the now classical commuting-based theory of residential location. While information technology may result in more telecommuting, the importance of non-work travel relative to work travel may grow even more in the future.
Two papers attempt to develop new techniques that can be used to explain the influence of non-work travel behavior on residential location and land use patterns, and vice versa. Central to this research is the notion that when a household makes a residential choice decision it will consider the pattern of non-work trips its members are likely to make. Accessibility to non-work opportunities is likely to be important and, for many households, perhaps more important than accessibility to jobs.
Moshe Ben-Akiva and John Bowman model the probability of choosing a residential location by treating the non-work trip patterns and activity schedules of the household’s members as explanatory variables. Their model allows the treatment of trips as tours with stops at multiple destinations. In their paper, “Integration of an Activity-Based Model System and a Residential Location Model,” the authors report that their model does not fit the data as well as a work-trip-based comparison model. But, the non-work accessibility measures are more appealing conceptually and allow a richer set of predictions and simulations to be made.
Until recently, economists have suppressed the importance of non-work trips in their theories of land use. Planners have viewed land use planning as a tool that can affect behavior and travel demand. But what is the evidence that travel patterns can be influenced meaningfully by manipulating land use at the neighborhood level or in a larger area?
Marlon Boarnet and Sharon Sarmiento tackle this question by means of a travel diary survey of Southern California residents. Their paper is titled “Can Land Use Policy Really Affect Travel Behavior? A Study of the Link Between Non-work Travel and Land Use Characteristics.” The number of work trips made by residents is explained by sociodemographic variables describing the residents and by land use characteristics describing their place of residence. Generally, the land use variables describing the neighborhood are not statistically significant, but future studies could follow this approach by trying more complex specifications and using better data.
Jobs-Housing Mismatch
As first stated by John Kain in 1968, the “spatial mismatch hypothesis” claimed that black central city residents are increasingly at a disadvantage economically as jobs disperse to the suburbs. Many suburban governments limit the quantity of high-density/low-income housing, forcing workers to make long, expensive commutes. Although there is a wealth of empirical work on the mismatch hypothesis, Richard Arnott’s paper, “Economic Theory and the Mismatch Hypothesis,” is one of the first attempts to formulate a microeconomic theory of the mismatch problem. In Arnott’s model, jobs flee to the suburbs because of the advent of international trade (relaxation of global trade barriers) and the emergence of suburban-based inter-city truck transport after World War II. At the same time, large-lot zoning and discrimination in suburban housing markets force minorities to reside in central cities. An increase in the cost of commuting effectively lowers the wage paid to low-skilled labor from the city.
In “Where Youth Live: Economic Effects of Urban Space on Employment Prospects,” John Quigley and Katherine O’Regan investigate how neighborhood of residence and access to jobs affect the employment prospects of minority youth. Black youth unemployment rates are higher in metropolitan areas where blacks are more isolated geographically. Controlling for socioeconomic characteristics, minority youth who have less residential exposure to whites are more likely to be unemployed. Finally, controlling for socioeconomic characteristics as well as residential exposure to whites, minority youth living in neighborhoods that are less accessible to jobs are more likely to be unemployed. While these findings support the mismatch hypothesis, they also suggest the importance of social networks and spatial search as important mechanisms in the intra-urban labor market.
Alex Anas, professor of economics at the State University of New York at Buffalo, was the editor of the special issue of Urban Studies (Vol. 35, No. 7, June 1998). The article and figures used in Land Lines are adapted with permission.
Note: Ben Chinitz, former director of research at the Institute, helped organize the 1996 TRED conference and the following colleagues served as discussants of the papers: James Follain, Vernon Henderson, Douglass Lee, Therese McGuire, Peter Mieszkowski, Edwin Mills, Sam Myers, Dick Netzer, Stephen Ross, Anita Summers, William Wheaton, Michelle White and John Yinger. The conference participants were saddened when news arrived that William Vickrey, who had been named a Nobel laureate in economics only a few days before, had passed away while traveling to the conference. Professor Vickrey had been a leading thinker on issues of transportation and land use and a regular attendee of previous TRED conferences. The special issue of Urban Studies based on the 1996 conference serves as a tribute to his memory.
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In recent years, politicians, lobbyists and voters in the United States have often seemed polarized—or paralyzed—over where to draw the line between private and public rights in land. Common property, defined as group- or community-owned private property, straddles that line.
Most recognized common property is in natural resources, and most recognized commoners are rural people in developing countries. But the concept of commons might also apply to some aspects of urban land in the United States. At the least, common property theory may help U.S. policymakers understand more clearly what is at stake in debates about land rights.
At Voices from the Commons, the June 1996 conference of the International Association for the Study of Common Property in Berkeley, California, the Lincoln Institute assembled a dozen researchers and practitioners from the U.S. to discuss these new forms of commons, some of which are described in this article:
Property Rights and Land Use Strategies
Economist Daniel Bromley and legal scholar Carol Rose have proposed independent but roughly compatible schemes for classifying property regimes. Bromley focuses on the form of land rights, while Rose focuses on management strategies:
PROPERTY IN LAND
Bromley Rose
1. private property rights
2. state keep out
3. nonproperty do nothing
4. common property right way
Option 1 on each of these lists is classically private property. The owner’s rights are exclusive, and the owner decides what to do with the land. Option 2 is often associated with public land, in the sense that government owns it and decides what, if anything, can be done and who can do it on the land. Option 3 is the situation often lamented as “the tragedy of the commons,” in which the land is owned by no one, and everyone therefore has both access and incentives to abuse it. Despite the “tragedy of the commons” language, this option is better described as “open access,” “unowned” or “nonproperty.” Option 4 is most often associated with common property, defined as private property owned and managed in a specific “right” way by a group of people.
There is not a perfect correspondence between Rose’s strategies and Bromley’s categories. “Keep out” as a strategy may apply to either private or group-owned property as well as public lands–wherever the main strategy is to restrict access to a defined group, or to no one. The “right way” strategy may apply to “nonproperty” as well as commons–if anyone, and not just members of a specific group, can use the resource simply by following the prescribed rules of use.
Nevertheless, putting Bromley’s and Rose’s lists side-by-side suggests that the distinguishing feature of common property may be assigning land both to a specific group of people and to prescribed uses.
Most urban land in the United States is defined as either private or public property. Yet such land may be more like common property than is usually recognized. Zoning and environmental regulations, for example, do not allow private landowners to do anything and everything with “their” land. Instead, for example, the private owners of land next to a river may not be permitted to install underground oil storage tanks. Those aspects of land use that affect the community’s quality of life or shared environment are managed almost like common property.
What Makes a Successful Commons?
Elinor Ostrom has identified two prerequisites for successful common property regimes: the system must face significant environmental uncertainty, and there must be social stability in the group of owners/users. As Ostrom puts it, commoners must have “shared a past and expect to share a future.” They must be capable not just of “short-term maximization but long-term reflection about joint outcomes.”
Environmental instability gives commoners an incentive to share risks. Social stability allows or forces them to preserve resources for future generations. For example, in many Alpine villages, herds are private property but summer pastures are common property. To avoid overgrazing and free-riding, individual farmers cannot graze more sheep and goats on the summer pastures than they can feed privately over the winter. Access to the summer pastures helps to guarantee all families, whatever their private resources, a chance to earn a living.
Environmental instability and social stability are usually associated with rural places. Rural landowners face the random risks of droughts, floods and plagues, and are known–accurately or inaccurately–for their sense of community.
Do these requirements exist in the urban United States? Perhaps. Environmental instability is easy enough to find, if “environment” is defined as social and economic as well as physical. For many inner-city residents, depopulation, gentrification, or plant and base closings are just as random and devastating as floods or plagues. The social stability of these neighborhoods may be largely involuntary, created by economic and racial barriers to mobility. But some community activists also see human knowledge, social relationships and the land itself in such places as “social capital,” which can be mobilized for development through new forms of ownership.
Pros and Cons of Common Property
Most scholars who have written about common property have seen commoners as political and economic underdogs. A classic example is villagers defending their traditional forest grazing grounds against timber companies or government foresters who want to prohibit grazing to protect tree seedlings or prevent erosion. But commoners may also be prosperous or even highly privileged. For example, many private or gated “common interest” communities attempt to wall in high home values and wall out social and economic diversity.
Commoners are by definition conservative. To preserve their shared resources, they must exclude or expel anyone not willing to follow their land use rules. They must also keep the individuals who make the most productive or profitable use of the common property from taking their share of the proceeds and “cashing out” of the system. Although less comforting than the stereotype of downtrodden commoners who share and share alike, exclusionary commons may still be preferable to either privatization or state control.
But in practice, both these options may speed up resource exhaustion. Private owners may extract the maximum cash value from their land as quickly as possible, rather than preserve resources for their own or anyone else’s future use. “Keep out” signs may not keep local people from extracting resources unsustainably from government lands–in fact, hostility toward a distant government may encourage such behavior.
Economist William Fischel has applied this implicit comparison to U.S. local governments’ primary dependence on land-based (property) taxes. He sees all residents in a jurisdiction as commoners who share an interest in maximizing local land values. Fischel argues that California’s Proposition 13 was exactly the equivalent of turning a village commons into a national park. By restricting local property taxes and giving state government a stronger role in school funding, Proposition 13 transferred “ownership” of the schools from face-to-face communities to a distant government.
From the local taxpayers’ vantage point, this upward transfer of responsibility changed their schools from a local “commons,” with strong norms about the “right way” to finance and use education, into state property, which local residents almost saw as nonproperty. As a result, the quality of California schools was leveled across local jurisdictions, but it was leveled down rather than up. Education was exhausted rather than managed sustainably.
New Commons
A few experimental forms of land ownership and management in the U.S.–including land trusts, neighborhood-managed parks, community-supported agriculture and limited-equity housing cooperatives–explicitly avoid the extremes of private or public property. All these “new” forms of common property fit Carol Rose’s description of option 4: “right way.” All aim to foster or protect specific land uses or groups of users.
These experiments with property rights and responsibilities raise questions that few researchers, either on urban development or on common property, have yet addressed. When and how should local policymakers support experiments with “common property”? For example, should local and state officials help to remove regulatory barriers to group ownership of land, or support new criteria for mortgage financing of group-owned land?
There are also long-standing legal objections to “perpetuities”–trying to tie the hands of future owners about how to use their land. To avoid these objections, land trusts must sometimes seek special legal exemptions, or even change state property laws. The long-term costs and benefits of common property experiments, however, may depend less on the initial distribution of land rights than on shifting local politics and economic conditions. Finding answers to these questions will require close collaboration between researchers and practitioners.
Sidebars
Land Trusts and Limited-Equity Cooperatives
Much of land’s market value depends on whether it contains important natural resources, is located in a thriving community, or has access to services and infrastructure provided by government. The nineteenth-century American philosopher Henry George argued that all these values were created by something other than private action, and should therefore be captured for public use through taxation.
In recent years, land trusts and other groups have experimented with distributing the costs and benefits of land development in much the same way as proposed by Henry George, but through new forms of land ownership rather than taxation. Some of these experiments include limited-equity cooperatives and land trusts such as Boston’s Dudley Street Neighborhood Initiative. The Dudley Street project has made the land in an inner-city redevelopment area the common property of a nonprofit group, while allowing private ownership of homes and other buildings.
Using similar arguments, groups such as the Connecticut-based Equity Trust have dedicated the “social increment” in property values–the increase in land prices as a neighborhood recovers from blight, or a small town grows–to social purposes. For example, the portion of a home’s sale price that is due to the increase in land values rather than housing construction costs is used to subsidize the purchase price for the next homeowner.
Incidental Open Spaces
Vacant lots, old cemeteries and partially buried urban streams raise a host of questions about managing urban landscapes as commons. Groups seeking to reclaim or use such incidental urban open spaces must often persuade private owners to let them use and help to maintain the land. Some geographers and planners have remapped cities’ neglected, and in practice often “unowned,” open spaces.
Groups such as the Waterways Restoration Institute in Berkeley, California, have built on this research to help low-income city residents uncover and restore forgotten streams and their banks, turning them from neighborhood eyesores into neighborhood treasures. The process increases residents’ appreciation of the interdependence between the city and nature, which they often think of as exclusively suburban or rural.
Housing
For the elderly, single-parent households and many low-income families, detached single-family housing is either inappropriate or priced beyond reach. Yet traditional land use regulations, grounded partly in concerns about property values, favor only single-family housing. Advocates of privatization, in the U.S. as well as in developing or transitioning economies, often argue for converting common property into private ownership to promote reinvestment or increase property values. Organizations serving the homeless, such as San Francisco’s HomeBase, are seeing this argument applied even to traditionally public spaces such as doorways, parks and bus benches. To discourage the homeless from occupying these spaces, some local businesses and neighbors support regulations that convert them into quasi-private property.
Yet in all these settings, some researchers and practitioners have also proposed to manage the housing stock as a whole as a form of common property, both to meet needs not met by single-family detached housing and to encourage neighborhood reinvestment. In the U.S., researchers such as Cornell’s Patricia Pollak have examined the sources of opposition to, and the consequences of, converting some single-family homes into group quarters, accessory apartments and elder cottages. Many home and business owners who oppose these land uses in interviews, expecting them to depress property values, are ironically unaware that their neighborhoods already contain some of this alternative housing.
Converted Military Bases
For each base closed, the federal government offers planning funds to a single organization. That organization must represent the entire local community affected by the base closing, from public to private interests and across local political jurisdictions. Researchers such as the Massachusetts Institute of Technology’s Bernard Frieden are now studying the way that communities around these bases, which often include very diverse interests, are being forced to create at least temporary “commons” structures to receive federal grants.
Few bases have been all the way through the conversion process yet, so it remains to be seen whether these temporary structures will be converted for permanent land ownership or management. In the Oakland-San Francisco area, however, the Earth Island Institute’s Carl Anthony and others on the East Bay Conversion and Reinvestment Commission consciously considered long-term group or community ownership of some base lands as a way to meet regional needs for housing, open space and jobs.
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Alice E. Ingerson, director of publications at the Lincoln Institute, earned her Ph.D. in cultural anthropology, for research on the politics of rural industrialization in Portugal. She moderated the session “Is There an Urban Commons in the U.S.?” at the 1996 Voices from the Commons conference in California.
References
Steve Barton and Carol Silverman, Common Interest Communities: Private Governments and the Public Interest (Berkeley, CA: Institute of Governmental Studies Press, 1994).
Daniel Bromley, Environment and Economy: Property Rights and Public Policy (Cambridge, MA: Basil Blackwell, Inc., 1991).
William A. Fischel, Regulatory Takings: Law, Economics, and Politics (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1995).
Elinor Ostrom, Governing the Commons: The Evolution of Institutions for Collective Action (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1990).
Carol M. Rose, “Rethinking Environmental Controls: Management Strategies for Common Resources,” Duke Law Journal 1991, no. 1 (February 1991), pp. 1-38.
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Una versión más actualizada de este artículo está disponible como parte del capítulo 1 del libro Perspectivas urbanas: Temas críticos en políticas de suelo de América Latina.
En los últimos años, el Instituto Lincoln ha venido colaborando con el programa de becas Loeb, el cual tiene sede en la Escuela de Posgrado en Diseño de la Universidad de Harvard. Este programa se inició en 1970 gracias a la generosidad de John L. Loeb, egresado de Harvard, con la finalidad de permitir que profesionales de mediana trayectoria cursaran estudios independientes y adquirieran herramientas adicionales dirigidas a la reactivación del medio ambiente natural y urbano. Los becarios de Loeb para el período 2001-2002 hicieron un viaje de fin de año a Cuba a mediados de junio, que incluía una estancia de dos días en Santiago de Cuba, cuatro en La Habana y un recorrido adicional desde esta última hasta Trinidad, con paradas en algunos destinos intermedios.
Con sus fachadas neoclásicas, adoquines blancos, nubes caribeñas y tonos pasteles, Trinidad se ha detenido en el tiempo como una postal de acuarela. Puesto que el patrimonio arquitectónico de Cuba es el núcleo de un creciente interés internacional y no está amenazado por las oleadas de nuevas construcciones, el futuro del pasado parece estar a salvo. Por su parte, el futuro en sí mismo es mucho más difícil de hallar. Mientras nuestro grupo de becarios de Loeb buscaba indicios en tres ciudades y localidades de la provincia, descubrimos que pese al estancamiento económico y la tensión política internacional los cubanos trabajan con esmero por un futuro que sólo pertenece a ellos.
La afluencia de dólares provenientes del turismo y una férrea campaña de preservación cubana han comenzado a rescatar las riquezas de La Habana Vieja de las garras del descuido no intencionado. Después de por lo menos una experiencia negativa con una nueva construcción, la Oficina del Historiador de la Ciudad –encargada de coordinar la impresionante restauración y renovación mayor de La Habana Vieja– todavía trata de resolver el problema de integrar lo nuevo con lo histórico. Una manera de abordar el problema es estudiar minuciosamente el diseño de edificaciones que ocupan una manzana. Caminamos por un estacionamiento grande de estructura moderna dentro de La Habana Vieja que será reconstruido para convertirlo en un edificio de uso múltiple, con un estacionamiento adyacente, según un diseño que busca reproducir la escala y algunos rasgos monumentales del convento colonial que una vez ocupaba el lugar.
Aunque se está reubicando a algunos residentes en la misma zona y otras partes, muchos regresan a sus hogares después de que los barrios son rehabilitados.
Considerado ahora como un modelo para otras iniciativas dirigidas a financiar la rehabilitación de otros distritos de la ciudad, la renovación de La Habana Vieja se fundamenta en un sistema de impuestos y empresas conjuntas que comprende ingresos provenientes de empresas privadas que se benefician del turismo generado por la restauración. La Oficina del Historiador maneja un presupuesto anual de 50 millones de dólares que se divide entre la construcción y la asistencia social a los cubanos que residen dentro de los límites de la zona de rehabilitación. Esto podría interpretarse como un sistema de “recuperación de plusvalías”, tema que suscita gran interés en el Instituto Lincoln.
Julio César Pérez, arquitecto cubano, urbanista y defensor de la planificación con base en la comunidad, era uno de los integrantes del grupo de becarios de Loeb. Gracias a la perspectiva particular que tiene por ser profesional local, mostró a nuestro grupo algunos de sus ejemplos favoritos del rico legado de la arquitectura prerrevolucionaria art deco y moderna de La Habana. Joyas de cinco pisos de altura se destacan en medio del variopinto paisaje urbano de La Habana central, que también incluye el Edificio Focsa de 28 pisos, con sus 375 unidades de apartamentos, construido en el ocaso del gobierno de Batista.
A los talones de las manzanas de viviendas y casinos con estilo internacional de los años 1950, la revolución implantó su propia forma de uso revisado del suelo. Julio contó la historia de un partido de golf que jugaron el Che Guevara y Fidel Castro en los vastos campos del antiguo Habana Country Club para celebrar la revolución. Según la leyenda, se preguntaron: “¿cómo podemos darle un buen uso a este terreno?” Los resultados de su conversación son las muy grandilocuentes y en su mayoría inconclusas Escuelas Nacionales de Arte diseñadas por Ricardo Porro, Vittorio Garratti y Roberto Gottardi. La postura de estas edificaciones es deliberadamente indiferente a la casa club o al plan del campo de golf; el área abierta es tratada como si fuera una enorme pradera en medio de territorio virgen. Está previsto un proyecto de restauración de los edificios, que se ha complicado más debido a la inestabilidad de las fundaciones y los problemas hidrológicos.
Julio también identificó ejemplos más recientes de construcciones de grandes dimensiones en La Habana, como son el Hotel Meliá Cohíba con su voluminoso arco incorporado y el Miramar Trade Center, un centro comercial (con transacciones en dólares) al otro lado de la calle. Además de ser fracasos de diseño, estos costosos proyectos no logran captar la relación del sitio con el mar ni la posibilidad de crear un nuevo género arquitectónico en un distrito en desarrollo.
Con el estancamiento de la economía y de las relaciones internacionales en los años 1990, el arquitecto y planificador cubano Miguel Coyula y sus colegas han utilizado el tiempo y los materiales que tienen a su alcance para adoptar un enfoque más cuidadoso del uso y desarrollo del suelo. Mientras en todo el mundo hay un surgimiento acelerado y avasallante de ciudades verticales de acero y vidrio, en La Habana se construye una de las maquetas de mayor escala en el mundo con cajas viejas de habanos. Esta asombrosa ciudad en miniatura fue concebida como herramienta para la planificación y asidero para los esfuerzos del Grupo para el Desarrollo Integral de la Capital (GDIC), que ha asesorado al gobierno municipal en asuntos de planificación urbana desde 1988.
La maqueta 1:1000 de toda La Habana ha ido creciendo por piezas exactas durante la mayor parte de la última década y actualmente ocupa 112 metros cuadrados, es decir, aproximadamente una cuarta parte de una cancha de baloncesto. Se encuentra en un pabellón especialmente diseñado iluminado con luz natural en el área de Miramar, cercano al centro de la ciudad, donde los visitantes ocasionales pueden circular cómodamente alrededor de la maqueta y verla desde los niveles superiores de acceso con rampas. En la base topográfica de madera hay colocados modelos a escala de prácticamente todas las estructuras de la ciudad. Cada edificio está codificado por un color que indica el desarrollo urbano en cada período histórico: colonial, moderno prerrevolucionario (1900 a 1958) y posrevolucionario.
Miguel describe un proyecto de construcción, un edificio alto para el Comité Estatal de Colaboración Económica (CECE), que fue cancelado porque con la maqueta se pudo ver claramente que era desproporcionado para el resto de la arquitectura del centro de La Habana. La decisión parece haber sido un hito ya que se trataba de un proyecto real y también ha sido ejemplo de la determinación de construir con conciencia por el medio ambiente –pese a las presiones para dar cabida a inversionistas foráneos en una Cuba necesitada de ingresos–.
La misión fundamental del GDIC se asemeja mucho a la que se plantean los planificadores estadounidenses para el urbanismo dentro de las grandes ciudades: comenzar por los vecindarios. El grupo ha realizado una serie de “talleres integrales de transformación del barrio” ofrecidos a los residentes locales y dirigidos por diseñadores y planificadores profesionales, preferentemente que habiten en la misma área. Estos proyectos se inscriben en la misma tendencia del movimiento internacional de diseño comunitario, una tradición vinculada a los Estados Unidos y surgida hace 45 años en la cual los diseñadores trabajan directamente para el beneficio de los residentes de un área determinada. Desde que la depresión económica sobrevenida en los años 1990 después de la disolución de la Unión Soviética y el bloqueo impuesto por los Estados Unidos comenzaron a tener efectos realmente adversos en Cuba, estos talleres han cobrado gran importancia. Han conjugado la planificación y el desarrollo económico en un nuevo contexto local, en el que los vecindarios emprenden diversos proyectos, como son los cultivos urbanos y la manufactura de materiales de construcción a partir del reciclaje de escombros.
Los talleres de transformación del barrio y otras iniciativas similares llevadas a cabo en los últimos 20 años han contribuido a crear un puente entre el precepto revolucionario cubano de igualdad de tratamiento para todos y el precepto humano básico de tomar decisiones sobre la familia, la comunidad y la vida cotidiana. Otro ejemplo lo constituye el proyecto Arquitectos de la Comunidad, una modalidad de diseño comunitario a cargo de un sector cívico nacional que participa en la construcción urbana y la planificación ambiental, además de ofrecer servicios asequibles de diseño para familias individuales. Basada en las teorías del arquitecto argentino Rodolfo Livingston, la práctica fomenta una relación directa entre el usuario y el arquitecto, a la vez que se incorpora en cada proyecto de construcción el concepto de sostenibilidad y sensibilidad contextual. Julio trabajó con el grupo durante cinco años antes de irse a Harvard y presentó una ponencia junto con Kathleen Dorgan, también becaria de Loeb, en la conferencia de la Asociación de Escuelas y Facultades de Arquitectura celebrada en la primavera pasada. Como defensor de un uso más humano y sensato del suelo y del diseño urbano en su país, Julio se cuenta entre un grupo de arquitectos cubanos preocupados por los valores tradicionales del oficio y el diseño idóneo para el medio ambiente.
Con la existencia de esfuerzos como éstos, tenemos esperanza para que en el futuro la construcción se fundamente en una calibración cuidadosa de relaciones proporcionadas y bien reflexionadas entre las edificaciones y los rasgos naturales del entorno, así como la comodidad y placer de los usuarios. El desafío radica en encontrar medios económicos y normativos para apoyar una modalidad apropiada de construcción. Hasta ahora, el estado ha mantenido el control sobre el uso del suelo gracias a su condición de propietario directo y casi exclusivo y ha hecho negociaciones de arrendamiento con algunos inversionistas privados y foráneos a través de una red delicada y sumamente frágil de fórmulas económicas y jurídicas para valorar los terrenos en cuestión. A medida que la economía se hace más dependiente de los recursos provenientes del exterior, aumenta la probabilidad de que estos arrendamientos devengan en transacciones más predecibles y transparentes. Tal vez no tardarán en llegar las ventas de tierras y la aplicación de mayores impuestos.
Con la llegada de inversiones extranjeras y las presiones para una apertura aún mayor, habrá plena oportunidad de que el futuro esté constreñido por decisiones sobre el uso del suelo impulsadas por los márgenes de ganancias de organizaciones distantes, lo que sería una lamentable añadidura a la carga histórica de Cuba. Porque, a pesar de la belleza de sus paisajes naturales y urbanos, Cuba es un mapa de victimización: a causa del colonialismo, de la flagrante explotación económica, de la confrontación revolucionaria y del brutal desarrollo al estilo soviético.
Los becarios de Loeb captaron una perspectiva general de un nacionalismo intenso construido sobre una cultura profunda y diversa, una historia cosmopolita y los logros incuestionables de los últimos 40 años. Cuba es un lugar de grandes penurias y también de enorme potencial, para los cubanos mismos y para el resto del mundo. Esperamos que el futuro no albergue solamente explotación y degradación cultural cuando finalmente caigan las barreras para el comercio y el viaje internacional. También esperamos demostrar que Cuba es un lugar para aprender de los errores del pasado –los suyos y los nuestros– y para descubrir lo que es posible cuando la gente tiene libertad para proteger, respetar y mejorar su entorno.
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In the past quarter century, the People’s Republic of China has achieved remarkable progress in economic growth, social advancement, and political and administrative reforms. These achievements are largely attributed to the commitment of the Chinese government to improve its people’s welfare through adherence to a free market economy. The interrelated forces of economic growth and policy reform are stimulating rapid and fundamental transformation, especially in Chinese cities, where infrastructure projects, urban renewal, housing development and reform of state-owned enterprises are taking place at an unprecedented pace and scale.
The catalyst for this surge in urban development has been the widespread adoption of the Land Use Rights System (LURs) in which land ownership and use rights have been separated. Its impacts are two-fold. First, it promotes the development of markets for land use rights in which land prices and market mechanisms begin to affect land use and land allocation decisions. Second and more important, it creates an institutional capacity for local governments to raise much-needed revenues to finance urban redevelopment and economic reforms. This revenue-raising ability is rooted in the land ownership structure and power of Chinese government, since the state owns virtually all land in cities and towns. Users are required to pay upfront leasing fees for 40- to 70-year periods, depending on the type of use.
Along with its fiscal impacts, the LURs has created several problems that have drawn increasing attention. First, revenues from leasing state-owned land are not sustainable from a long-term perspective; leasing of existing urban land has been the primary revenue source for financing urban projects, and sooner or later cities will run out of urbanized land available for leasing. For example, Hanzhou City will collect 6 billion RMB (US$732 million) in 2003 from the sales of land use rights, most of them on existing urban land, but land sale revenues have already reached their peak and have started to decline.
Second, Chinese governments lack instruments to capture their share of the increases in land value that are driven up by the combined forces of urbanization, public investment in infrastructure and private efforts. Based on the proposition that one should be rewarded only for one’s own effort, government should capture the increased land value resulting from public investment, rather than having it accrue to the private landowner.
Third, laws do not specify concrete measures for implementing lease renewals. It will be more difficult to collect leasing fees in the renewal period since local governments will have to deal with thousands of households compared to a small number of developers in the first round of leases. Finally, some local government officials have been politically motivated to create an oversupply of land and overheated real estate activity, thus diminishing the central government’s efforts to institutionalize land management and urban planning.
Compulsory Land Acquisition
The other major source of land revenues for local governments is the leasing of former farmland. Both the Chinese Constitution and the 1999 Land Administration Law (LAL) specify that the state, in the public interest, may lawfully requisition land owned by collectives, thus setting the stage for compulsory land acquisition. The local government is thereby able to acquire land cheaply from farmers and sell it to developers at much higher prices. This is a complicated process because it requires first acquiring the land, then converting it to state ownership, resettling the displaced farmers and providing urban infrastructure before finally leasing the land to developers. The law requires that peasants’ lives should not be adversely affected by land acquisition. However, this requirement is difficult to implement, in part because measures of life changes for peasants are multifaceted; financial compensation is only one of the considerations.
Since there is no market data for farmland prices, the government pays collectives and peasants a compensation package that includes three components: compensation for the land itself; resettlement subsidies; and compensation for improvements to the land and for crops growing on the requisitioned land. The law stipulates that compensation for cultivated land shall be six to ten times the average annual output value of the acquired land for the three years preceding the requisition.
The amount of the resettlement subsidies depends on the number of people living on the land, but each person’s subsidy shall not exceed six to ten times that of the annual yield from the occupied land. Recognizing diversity of local conditions in terms of socioeconomic development status, productivity, and per capita income, the local government is permitted to raise the sum of the resettlement subsidies and land compensation up to 30 times the previous three years’ average output value on the acquired land.
Emerging Issues
Several significant issues are emerging from this land acquisition process. The first relates to the ill-defined concept of property rights and development rights: who is entitled or empowered to acquire land from peasants for urban development? Currently any entity can acquire land from peasants as long as it can justify public interest or purpose. This public interest requirement was easy to fulfill in the 1990s, since there were many state-owned enterprises that provided services and/or goods to the public. They could acquire land to launch profitable commercial, housing, entertainment and industrial development projects. Individual developers also can acquire land if they have strong political connections. However, these profit-making and political motivations for land acquisition are responsible for increasing corruption in real estate and housing developments and creating chaotic and uncoordinated urban development patterns. Recent economic reforms and privatization have begun to diminish the roles of state-owned enterprises, so it is time to reexamine the concept and definition of public interest and public projects.
The interactions of multiple players in land acquisition (including individuals, corporations and governments) create several problems in land management and planning: (1) it becomes extremely difficult, if not impossible, to coordinate land development so that infrastructure and transportation facilities are used efficiently; (2) it voids many urban planning efforts; and (3) it is blamed for “villages in the city” (cheng zhong chun), a phenomenon in which villages and farmland are surrounded by developed land, making the city unattractive, disrupting the continuity of economic, social and cultural functions, and significantly increasing transportation costs.
The second issue is who is entitled to compensation and at what level. The village collective is the basic socioeconomic organization in rural areas, and its largest asset is the land collectively owned by the members. Even though laws recognize that both the collective and its members should be entitled to sharing compensation, there are no specific policy guidelines or regulations on how to divide the shares in different situations. The collective’s share is supposed to enhance its capacity in farmland productivity and social welfare, thus benefiting all its members. However, the role of the collective is diminishing, in part because its membership is decreasing as some farmers leave to become urban residents following acquisition of communal land, and in part because of socioeconomic changes due to advancing urbanization. The revenue sharing scheme reflects this transformation.
To make matters worse, different levels of governments take a cut out of the monetary compensation that is supposed to go to the farmers. For example, the Chinese government built a pipeline that transfers natural gas from the western to the eastern part of the country. This was a national project, so compensation to peasants was paid by the state, but the amount of compensation varied from province to province. The state gave 20,000 RMB (US$2,500) per mu (one mu=666.67 square meters) to peasants in Henan province for their land. Given the fiscal structures between governments, these funds were allocated downward to lower levels of government (from state to province to city to county to township, respectively). At each transfer point, a portion of funds was retained for that level of government to finance their own public goods and services. The peasants received only 5,000 RMB in the end.
The situation here is similar to the concept of value capture in which governments are entitled to retain a portion of land value increases in exchange for their efforts in urban development and infrastructure provision. In a case like Henan it is legitimate to ask if the state’s compensation reflected the true market value of the land. If it did, then local governments should be entitled to their shares. Alternatively, if the state captures the entire land value increase, then the state should reimburse at least the costs of infrastructure provisions supplied by the local government.
The third issue is the equity of compensation, which involves both the level of compensation as well as variations in payments in different situations. Since there are no market data that can truly reflect the price of farmland, compensation hardly reflects market conditions and it varies dramatically from case to case, mainly depending on who plans to develop the land. For instance, profitable projects such as commercial housing and business developments can afford to pay higher prices for land than public transportation and infrastructure projects such as highways, railroads, airports and canals. If these different types of projects, private and public, occur in one village at different times or in neighboring villages at the same time, peasants who are less well compensated feel unequally treated by the government. Many complaints have something to do with this inconsistency in compensation. Such inequity contributes to rising tensions and distrust between peasants and the government and adversely affects subsequent planning and implementation of land management policies.
Finally, it is becoming increasingly difficult and costly to resettle peasants. The LAL requires that the quality of life of farmers shall not be adversely affected by compulsory land acquisition, but does not specify concrete measures to achieve this goal. As a result, many peasants end up living under worse conditions several years after their land was taken than they did before. This situation is not difficult to imagine. Farming does not make peasants rich, but it generates sufficient income to support a minimum level of livelihood and security. Without appropriate training and skills in managing their lump sum payment and without appropriate investment channels (if their compensation is sufficient to make any investment at all), it is common for peasants to end up with no land to farm, no income stream to support themselves, and no job skills to compete in the tight urban job markets.
Land Policy Challenges
China is facing many challenges in its efforts to supply land for new development as rapid urbanization continues. First, it is becoming more difficult for local governments to acquire land for true public works and transportation projects, since they cannot offer peasants as much compensation as developers of more profitable commercial projects.
A second challenge is to fairly compensate peasants when their farmland is acquired. As governments capture a greater proportion of the land value increases, the low level of compensation to peasants imposes a serious long-term threat to sustainable development in China. The number of people who live in poverty after land acquisition continues to rise. For instance, Zhijiang province alone has more than 2 million farmers who have lost their farmland. In 2002, more than 80 percent of legal cases filed by peasants against governments in the province were related to land acquisition.
This situation is a potential source of instability and is likely to escalate in the future as increasing urbanization puts even more pressure on the need for new land for development. According to the General National Land Use Comprehensive Plan, China needs 18.5 million mu of land for nonagricultural uses in the first decade of the twenty-first century, and 90 percent of that land will be acquired from farmers. It is estimated that 12 million farmers will lose their land through this type of acquisition. Without fair compensation or other efforts to assure their social security over the long term, these farmers will impose enormous socioeconomic problems on China for years to come.
The third challenge is associated with the rate of urbanization. According to the report of the 16th Communist Party Convention in 2003, the total population of China is estimated to be 1.6 billion to1.8 billion by 2020, with more than 55 percent living in cities, compared to the current population of 1.3 billion with 38 percent in urban areas. Migration from rural areas to cities is expected to be around 15 million annually, after taking into account the rate of natural urban population growth. Sustainable and affordable urban economic development is urgently needed to absorb these large numbers of rural immigrants.
A final dilemma is how to achieve a balance between farmland preservation and urban spatial expansion. Farmland preservation will inevitably increase land costs, which in turn will slow down urban development. At the same time, it is necessary to promote urban economic growth to provide sufficient job opportunities. This in turn leads to urban encroachment into rural areas to take advantage of less expensive land.
To address these challenges, Chinese officials need to ask some fundamental questions:
Land Acquisition Reform
It is hard to anticipate how Chinese officials will address these questions, but rapid urbanization and massive infrastructure provision will inevitably increase land values over the next two decades. Recognizing the enormous problems associated with land acquisition, several cities have adopted different approaches to protect farmers’ rights and interests so their lives will not be adversely affected. These approaches include:
The Chinese government is taking other measures, such as attempting to make the land acquisition process more transparent so farmers know where and when their land will be acquired and how much they will be compensated for it. This transparency will also help to reduce corruption and improve land management. There is also an urgent need to establish legal channels for farmers to file appeals and protests against governments in compulsory land acquisition cases. The development of farmland markets may challenge land acquisition and also may have substantial impacts on fiscal policy and government financing.
All of these efforts will change both the way land will be taken from farmers and how the issues and challenges of land acquisition will be addressed. Although it is too early to predict how and to what extent these measures and reforms may affect urban and rural development, China is certain to be one of the most fascinating and dynamic places for continuing research and study of land policy reform and societal transformation.
Chengri Ding is associate professor in the Department of Urban Studies and Planning at the University of Maryland, in College Park. He specializes in urban economics, housing and land studies, GIS and spatial analysis. He is also special assistant to the president of the Lincoln Institute for the Program on the People’s Republic of China.
Note: RMB is the Chinese currency; US$1=8.20RMB.
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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/.
Urban regulations in Latin America that create benefits to landowners as increased gains are usually welcomed, especially by those who own land where more benefits have been concentrated; for example, when zoning plants authorize development in one area but restrain it in another, or when building codes stimulate a type of housing but condone the provision of infrastructure. But urban regulations impose charges on development, such as the provision of truck roads, the dedication of land for environmental purposes, the inclusion of social housing, the readjustment of land with neighbors, or the payment of special charges, generate strong resistance.
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An architect who specializes in urban and regional planning, Eduardo Reese is the deputy administrator of the Institute for Housing of the Province of Buenos Aires, Argentina. In previous professional positions he provided technical advice for the master plans of more than 20 cities in Argentina; was secretary of socioeconomic policies at the Ministry of Human Development and Labor of the Province of Buenos Aires; adviser for the Urban Planning Counsel of the City of Buenos Aires; and planning secretary in the City of Avellaneda.
Reese also teaches at the Conurbano Institute at the National University General Sarmiento in Buenos Aires. Currently he is a professor of urban management in the Institute’s B.A. program in urbanism. He also teaches urban development at master’s programs at the School of Architecture, Urbanism and Design of the University of La Plata, as well as at universities in Mar del Plata and Córdoba. In addition, he directs the master planning of the Matanza-Riachuelo watershed in Buenos Aires.
Land Lines: How long have you been involved with the Institute’s Latin America Program?
Eduardo Reese: My relationship dates back to 1997 when we were drafting the plan for the City of Córdoba, which included several large-scale urban projects. We worked to expand the debate about the impacts of these projects on the land market and, consequently, on shaping the city. I continued to participate in various activities, and four years ago I took over the coordination of the annual lectures of the Land Management in Large Urban Projects series, following the death of Mario Lungo, who had led that program for many years.
In 2004, in conjunction with the Conurbano Institute of the National University of General Sarmiento, we conducted a course on Land Markets: Theory and Tools for Policy Management, which was the first one involving a seven-month training program for 50 Argentine students. That educational experience helped create a critical mass of technicians and professionals with an innovative vision toward the management of land policies. The program’s impact has been reflected in urban policy decisions in different municipalities (such as San Fernando and Morón in Greater Buenos Aires); in the Argentine Constitution; in the Urban Reform Movement in 2005; and in academic changes at the Conurbano Institute itself.
Land Lines: What role can large urban projects play in the quality of life of Latin American cities?
Eduardo Reese: Large-scale projects in defined sectors of the city (both central and peripheral areas) have been great protagonists of contemporary urbanism in the past quarter century. Today in Latin America there are many types and sizes of projects, even though more rigorous theoretical thinking is still needed. Important examples are the Bicentennial Portal (Portal del Bicentenario) projects in Santiago de Chile; the Integral Urban Projects (Proyectos Urbanos Integrales) in Medellín, Colombia; urban operations in different cities of Brazil; and the restructuring project in the northwestern sector of San Fernando (Argentina).
Large-scale urban operations as instruments of intervention in the city have been implemented for many decades. In Buenos Aires, for instance, the Avenida de Mayo and the Diagonals, which were planned around 1880, had important impacts on physical space as well as in social, economic, and symbolic aspects. This approach of multiple impacts undoubtedly allowed better assimilation of the Avenida de Mayo, but it also generated a huge debate over who should finance the operation and who would appropriate the land rents generated. Ultimately the Supreme Court ruled that the municipality could not finance the work with the surplus created because the rents belonged entirely to the landowners. For many years this case set a judicial precedent regarding the state’s intervention in the process of valuing land generated by a large-scale public project.
Land Lines: You have a critical view on the widely acclaimed Puerto Madero urban regeneration project in Buenos Aires. What would you do differently in other large redevelopment areas?
Eduardo Reese: Puerto Madero is emblematic of urban projects that promote a model of segregated urban planning and are now being “exported” to other countries as a basic tool to compete for international investment. In this project the state submitted to the market and allowed the construction of an exclusive neighborhood for very high-income sectors. It is a notorious example of public policy explicitly designed to favor the wealthy segments without any recovery of the huge land valuations that were the product of public policy.
Moreover, to guarantee investors an overvaluation of the properties they purchased, the venture has a number of features that cut it off (physically and socially) from the rest of the city, creating even greater value because of its segregation. Puerto Madero has no external wall, as gated condominiums have, but rather multiple implicit, explicit, and symbolic signals that clearly indicate this place is off limits to most of society.
In the end, Puerto Madero is a clear demonstration of the regressive distribution of urban planning and public policy: a trouble-free ghetto for the rich.
Land Lines: As municipalities continue to compete for outside investments, is it possible to reconcile alternative objectives such as social and environmental priorities?
Eduardo Reese: The problem in our cities is not the lack of planning, but the current exclusionary pattern of planning policies. There cannot be one law for the formal city and exceptions for the rest. It is necessary to create a new urban and legal order in Latin America based on the right to the city, the equitable sharing of the benefits of urbanization, and the social function of land ownership.
Land Lines: How does the municipality of San Fernando in the Buenos Aires metropolitan area offers an alternative to this approach?
Eduardo Reese: San Fernando is located some 30 kilometers (km) north of Buenos Aires, with a land area of 23 square km and a population of 156,000 inhabitants. A 5 km long riverside faces the Río Luján and another part of the city faces the mouth of Río de la Plata, where productive nautical activities are concentrated. This privileged location has high property values and all urban services.
The plan and model of urban land management in the city began in 2003 through an agreement between the municipality and the Conurbano Institute. In 2005, a Lincoln Institute training seminar helped broaden the local debate on land management, which led to a series of major decisions:
The urban policy focused on a set of action strategies including (1) ensuring accessibility to new public spaces for recreational, sports and commercial purposes on the riverside, especially for the use and enjoyment of the poor; and (2) the comprehensive regularization of the western sector of the municipality, where most poverty is concentrated.
To implement these strategies it was necessary to increase fiscal resources for public investment in two ways: appropriation of the profitability of land use or municipal land on the riverside through the creation of the Consortium San Fernando Marina Park Company (PNSFSA) and participation of the municipality in the surplus generated from municipal tax reform. (PNSFSA is a company created by the municipality of San Fernando to manage the riverside of the northwest sector of the city, defined as Marina Park.)
The experience of San Fernando is based on a set of management tools within an urban plan focused on the redistribution of income to build a more equitable city. Land is considered a key asset within a wider strategy of local development and, therefore, management relies on a broad mix of planning, administrative, economic, fiscal, and legal instruments aimed at strengthening the role of the public sector. The core axis of policies is the search for equity in the distribution of the costs and benefits of urbanization, within the challenging context of growing pressure on land throughout metropolitan Buenos Aires.
Land Lines: What could or should be changed in the educational system that trains urban planners and managers in Latin America?
Eduardo Reese: First, it is necessary to incorporate a greater understanding of the functioning of land markets in the present context of developing and shaping cities. Second, a more critical analysis is needed of adequate theoretical, methodological and technical instruments to undertake diagnosis and intervention in urban land issues. The 2004 course on Land Markets that I described earlier attempted to develop these kinds of materials to enable students to cover the different scales and dimensions of the problem.
Land Lines: What tensions exist between private and public interests in urban planning?
Eduardo Reese: This is a critical question because the whole history of urban land management has had a common thread: the rights of private ownership of land and the structure of ownership have always come into conflict with urban planning activity, which is a public responsibility. In that sense, there will always be tension between public and private interests in building the city.
In my view, urban projects in Latin America have the responsibility to contribute not only to the creation of new spaces for public use and enjoyment, employment generation and environmental sustainability, but also social inclusion, equity in the access to services and the redistribution of urban rents generated by the project. The four cases on Chile, Colombia, Brazil, and Argentina mentioned earlier show that these benefits are possible in many contexts.
However, instead many urban projects have been justified as necessary to attract investment and/or consumers and to ensure or reinforce the dynamic competitive advantages of the city. These undoubtedly positive goals are sometimes used as a mechanism to legitimize interventions that deepen the serious sociospatial segregation of cities. Such adverse effects of the market are not fatal to the city, but are the outcome of perverse political choices.
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Las comunidades locales sustentables necesitarán mecanismos para visualizar y planificar el futuro y para que los residentes participen en el proceso. La planificación de escenarios es una manera crecientemente efectiva de respaldar estos esfuerzos, y Suelos y Comunidades del Oeste (Western Lands and Communities, o WLC), la sociedad conjunta del Lincoln Institute of Land Policy y el Sonoran Institute, está trabajando para desarrollar las herramientas necesarias.
Planificación de escenarios para afrontar la incertidumbre
Las decisiones y los esfuerzos de planificación sobre el uso del suelo son elementos de fundamental importancia para visualizar el futuro en 20 a 50 años y poder guiar opciones políticas e inversiones públicas que sean sustentables a nivel económico, social y medioambiental. A medida que la incertidumbre aumenta y los recursos disponibles disminuyen, es cada vez más importante considerar la gama completa de condiciones emergentes y preservar nuestra capacidad para responder a esos cambios, adoptar políticas y realizar inversiones que se puedan adaptar a una variedad de futuros potenciales.
Las áreas clave de incertidumbre incluyen los cambios demográficos y de población, las tendencias económicas, la variabilidad y el cambio climático, los costos y disponibilidad de recursos, los mercados de suelos, las preferencias de vivienda, la construcción de viviendas asequibles y la salud fiscal de los gobiernos locales. Junto con la creciente incertidumbre y la reducción de recursos, o quizás debido a ello, las autoridades deben enfrentarse con perspectivas conflictivas sobre el futuro deseado y sobre el papel del gobierno en el suministro de servicios e infraestructura, así como en la regulación y planeamiento.
Esta polarización creciente significa que es necesario contar con más participación cívica y una sociedad más informada para respaldar políticas estables e inversiones adecuadas en el futuro de la comunidad. La planificación de escenarios ofrece un mecanismo para afrontar estas necesidades así como los problemas de incertidumbre y conflicto potenciales. Afortunadamente, a medida que el alcance y la complejidad de la planificación y la demanda de una mayor participación han aumentado, los avances en la capacidad de potencia informática y el acceso público a la tecnología permiten desarrollar herramientas nuevas y más poderosas.
El Instituto Lincoln tiene un largo historial de respaldo al desarrollo de herramientas de planificación y la publicación de sus resultados (Hopkins y Zapata 2007; Campoli y MacLean 2007; Brail 2008; Kwartler y Longo 2008; Condon, Cavens, y Miller 2009). Este artículo describe las lecciones aprendidas con el uso de herramientas de planificación de escenarios en varios proyectos realizados por WLC, así como los mecanismos para ampliar su uso.
Superstition Vistas
Superstition Vistas es un territorio vacante de 275 millas cuadradas (700 Km2) propiedad de un fideicomiso de suelos estatal en el borde urbanizado del área metropolitana de Phoenix (figura 1). Los suelos de fideicomisos estatales, como este sitio en Arizona, son la clave de los patrones de crecimiento futuro, porque el estado es dueño del 60 por ciento del suelo disponible para desarrollo inmobiliario. Colorado y Nuevo México, en un grado un tanto menor, cuentan con oportunidades similares con sus suelos de fideicomisos estatales (Culp, Laurenzi y Tuell 2006). El pensamiento creativo sobre el futuro de Superstition Vistas comenzó a tomar impulso en 2003, y el Instituto Lincoln, por medio de su sociedad conjunta WLC, estuvo entre los primeros en proponer estos esfuerzos (Propst, 2008).
Los objetivos iniciales del WLC para la planificación de escenarios en Superstition Vistas incluyeron el desarrollo de capacidades, el desarrollo de herramientas y la identificación de oportunidades para catalizar el proceso de planificación. Específicamente, propusimos:
WLC, junto con otras alianzas regionales, jurisdicciones vecinas, la empresa regional de electricidad y agua, dos proveedores hospitalarios privados y una compañía minera local, formaron el Comité Directivo de Superstition V istas para impulsar los esfuerzos de planificación, obtener financiamiento y contratar a un equipo de consultores. Los consultores, que trabajaron con el comité por un período de tres años, realizaron múltiples actividades de consulta pública e investigación en valores, recopilaron datos sobre Superstition V istas, desarrollaron y refinaron una serie de escenarios alternativos del uso del suelo para construir una comunidad de 1 millón de residentes, evaluaron el impacto de los distintos escenarios y produjeron un escenario compuesto para el sitio.
El Departamento de Suelos Estatales de Arizona (el propietario) adaptó el trabajo de los consultores para preparar un borrador conceptual del plan para Superstition Vistas en mayo de 2011 y presentó una propuesta de enmienda al plan comprensivo ante el condado de Pinal. El condado está considerando ahora la enmienda propuesta y se espera que su Junta de Supervisores tome una decisión a fines de 2011.
Lecciones de sustentabilidad
El análisis de escenarios, utilizando las mejoras promovidos por WLC, identificó los factores más importantes que iban a incidir en los patrones de desarrollo y los conflictos potenciales en los resultados deseados (figura 2). La inclusión de costos individuales de edificación e infraestructura para los escenarios alternativos facilitó el examen de sensibilidad, al variar estos factores claves y la efectividad de costo de cuatro niveles crecientes de eficiencia energética e hídrica en cada tipo de edificio.
Los escenarios también examinaron el impacto de la forma urbana sobre las millas de vehículos viajadas (vehicle miles traveled, o VMT). El modelo de escenarios produce indicadores de uso del suelo, uso de energía y agua, VM T, emisiones de carbono y costos de construcción. Este análisis reveló las oportunidades a corto plazo de mejoras en la sustentabilidad. El equipo de consultores, en colaboración con el Comité Directivo, identificó una serie de lecciones que ilustran el valor de las herramientas de planificación de escenarios, y que se pueden aplicar a otros proyectos para diseñar áreas urbanas más sustentables y eficientes (Equipo de Consultores de Superstition Vistas, 2011).
1. Crear centros de uso mixto para reducir el tiempo de viaje, el uso de energía y la huella de carbono.
Una de las maneras más efectivas de reducir los tiempos de viaje, el uso de energía y la huella de carbono resultante son los centros de usos mixtos a lo largo de las rutas de transporte público y cerca de las residencias y los barrios. Las casas más pequeñas, las formas más compactas de desarrollo urbano y los sistemas de transporte multimodal generan beneficios similares (figura 3). No obstante, el modelo de escenarios para Superstition V istas demostró que los centros de uso mixto serían sustancialmente más importantes que un aumento de densidad para mejorar las opciones de transporte, el uso de energía y la huella de carbono.
2. Promover desde el principio las inversiones y puestos de empleo de alta calidad para catalizar el éxito económico.
Una economía local robusta y un equilibrio diverso de puestos de empleo, vivienda y tiendas cercanas son críticos para crear una comunidad sustentable, sobre todo cuando se ofrecen empleos de alta calidad al comienzo del desarrollo inmobiliario. Una inversión pública inicial significativa y la formación de alianzas público privadaspueden suplir la infraestructura crítica y tener un enorme impacto sobre la forma del desarrollo y sobre el valor de los suelos del fideicomiso estatal. El fideicomiso de suelos estatal también podría brindar una oportunidad única para inversions de capital a largo plazo, ya que las autoridades que administran el fideicomiso de suelos podrían proporcionar acceso a los recursos para las inversions iniciales de capital y permitir que se recuperen dichas inversiones cuando más adelante el suelo se venda o arriende a un valor superior.
3. Proporcionar infraestructura de transporte multimodal y conexiones regionales para facilitar un crecimiento eficiente.
Otro paso crítico es establecer cómo introducir gradualmente las mejoras de transporte a medida que la región vaya creciendo y el mercado pueda sostener un aumento en los servicios. Los componentes de introducción gradual pueden comenzar por autobuses y pasar después a un sistema de tránsito rápido de autobuses (Bus Rapid Transit, o BRT), concediendo derechos de paso para corredores eventuales de trenes suburbanos o trenes livianos. Para establecer la cohesión de toda la zona y permitir la evolución hacia infraestructuras de transporte de mayor envergadura financiera a medida que va madurando la comunidad, es necesario identificar y construir corredores de transporte multimodal e infraestructura antes de iniciar las ventas para emprendimientos residenciales y comerciales.
4. Diseñar edificios eficientes que ahorren agua y recursos energéticos y reduzcan la huella de carbono de la comunidad.
La incorporación de costos de construcción y datos de rentabilidad de la inversión en la planificación de recursos permite hacer cálculos de factibilidad financiera y costo-beneficio. El equipo de consultores construyó un modelo de cuatro niveles de uso de agua y energía (modelo de base, bueno, mejor y óptimo) para cada escenario y tipo de edificación. Los resultados demostraron que las inversiones en eficiencia energética darían más resultados en edificios residenciales que en aquellos comerciales e industriales. Otra conclusión es que la generación de energía renovable centralizada en los edificios podría ser una mejor inversión que las medidas extremas de conservación de energía.
5. Ofrecer opciones de vivienda que cumplan con las necesidades de una población diversa.
La construcción de una comunidad viable significa suplir las necesidades de todos los residentes potenciales con una amplia variedad de tipos de emprendimientos y precios al alcance de los trabajadores locales, permitiendo ajustes para condiciones futuras del mercado.
6. Incorporar flexibilidad para responder a los cambios de circunstancias.
Uno de los desafíos para los planes maestros en gran escala que se irán poniendo en práctica en múltiples fases a lo largo de 50 años o más es cómo elaborarlos para que el desarrollo propiamente dicho pueda evolucionar y revitalizarse con el tiempo. Los planes de implementación tienen que incluir mecanismos que limiten futuros problemas de resistencia a que se construya en parcelas vacías y se reurbanice cerca de donde uno vive (“no en mi patio trasero”).
Lecciones de procedimiento
El proceso de previsualización para Superstition Vistas consistió en planificar una ciudad o región de comunidades completamente nuevas en un área vacante propiedad de un solo dueño público y sin población existente. Dada la reciente recesión económica, así como la capacidad limitada de la agencia estatal para ofrecer suelos al mercado, es probable que el desarrollo de esta zona se postergue por varios años. A pesar de estas condiciones particulares, las lecciones de procedimientos aprendidas en este proyecto hasta ahora son relevantes para otros esfuerzos a largo plazo y de gran escala, y para la expansión de la planificación de escenarios para la toma de decisiones comunitarias en general.
El acuerdo sobre los procedimientos y procesos de planificación se ha convertido en un elemento cada vez más importante a medida que se prolonga el período de planificación y desarrollo, y la cantidad de partes interesadas aumenta. Es probable que en cualquier proyecto a largo plazo con múltiples partes involucradas se produzcan cambios significativos en los participantes, las perspectivas y los factores externos, como el reciente colapso de la economía inmobiliaria. Estos desafíos se tienen que tener en cuenta e incorporarse en las tareas del proyecto.
1. Diseñar para el cambio.
Los proyectos a largo plazo tienen que poder adaptarse a los cambios en las partes interesadas, dirigentes e incluso a las perspectivas políticas en el curso de la planificación e implementación. Los proyectos se beneficiarían enormemente si anticiparan estos cambios, acordaran mecanismos para transferir conocimiento a los nuevos participantes, y establecieran ciertos criterios y decisiones que las nuevas partes interesadas deberían cumplir. Para ello deben comprender cómo manejar condiciones políticas o de mercado cambiantes, e incorporar flexibilidad en estos factores al construir escenarios alternativos.
2. Considerar cómo se va a gobernar.
Este es un tema para la planificación y los esfuerzos de implementación, y también para la elaboración de una estructura de toma de decisiones en una comunidad nueva. Al construir una ciudad nueva, es importante considerar cómo crear un sistema de gobierno capaz de implementar una visión coherente y comprensiva para una comunidad que aún no existe.
3. Incorporar nuevos diseños comunitarios en planes comprensivos locales y regionales.
También es crítico considerar cómo un proyecto de la escala de Superstition Vistas, con hasta 1 millón de residentes y un plan de construcción de 50 años o más, se puede integrar en el marco de un plan comprensivo de condado prototípico. Los escenarios y las visiones tienen que reflejar las ideas y planes a que las jurisdicciones locales están políticamente dispuestas y puedan incorporar desde el punto de vista administrativo en su proceso de planificación.
4. Desarrollo en fases.
Las comunidades tienen que establecer mecanismos para permitir la adopción de una visión de construcción a largo plazo y después incorporar una serie de planes flexibles y adaptables por fases para implementar esta visión en forma paulatina.
5. Planificar para condiciones cambiantes del mercado.
Las condiciones del mercado, las preferencias de vivienda y las oportunidades de empleo evolucionarán, y los proyectos a gran escala con visiones creativas y atractivas pueden hasta crear su propia demanda. Nadie sabe a ciencia cierta qué nos ofrecerán los mercados futuros, de manera que es fundamental considerar mercados alternativos y diseños comunitarios adaptables. Las proyecciones de combinaciones residenciales y las estimaciones de absorción inmobiliaria tienen que ser flexibles y no deben partir de la base de las preferencias y tendencias actuales solamente.
6. Conectar con valores comunes.
También es importante demostrar cómo las propuestas de desarrollo se conectan con visiones y valores comunes compartidos y estables a lo largo del tiempo. Para Superstition Vistas, ciertos valores como la oportunidad de llevar adelante un estilo de vida saludable y brindar opciones para residentes de todo el espectro socioeconómico, son ampliamente compartidos. Los planificadores también tienen que reconocer los valores más polémicos o que pueden ser transitorios y probablemente cambiarán.
Desafíos y oportunidades
La experiencia de WLC en la planificación de Superstition Vistas ha sido exitosa en varios niveles. La comunidad se unió a través del Comité Directivo para desarrollar una visión de consenso que representaba una cooperación multijurisdiccional alrededor de la idea de un crecimiento sustentable e “inteligente”. Las comunidades vecinas, a pedido del comisionado estatal de suelos, demoraron cualquier intento de anexo. Además, el Departamento de Suelos del Estado de Arizona elaboró un plan para una escala geográfica, horizonte temporal y nivel de integración mucho más ambicioso que cualquier intento previo. No obstante, la enmienda al plan comprensivo propuesta para Superstition Vistas es, en el mejor de los casos, un primer paso hacia una visión para una comunidad de hasta 1 millón de personas.
El Departamento de Suelos del Estado de Arizona no ha podido, por lo menos hasta ahora, presionar demasiado para crear maneras nuevas y más creativas de conceptualizar emprendimientos a gran escala que puedan mejorar el valor económico de los suelos de fideicomisos estatales y la forma urbana regional. El reciente colapso de los mercados de suelos y de vivienda en todo el país también ha afectado este proyecto y las percepciones locales del potencial de crecimiento en el futuro. Como el esfuerzo general para conceptualizar e implementar planes de desarrollo para Superstition Vistas está sólo comenzando, no se espera que el desarrollo concreto comience hasta por lo menos dentro una década más. Habrá múltiples oportunidades para continuar con estos esfuerzos de planificación y construir previsiones más audaces y comprensivas a medida que la economía inmobiliaria se vaya recuperando y el desarrollo de suelos vuelva a ser más atractivo.
La planificación de escenarios y las visualizaciones efectivas cobran más importancia y son más difíciles de lograr cuando se intenta construir una visión más ambiciosa y a más largo plazo. Las visualizaciones que pueden ilustrar de manera convincente los centros de actividad y los barrios de mayor densidad y uso mixto, pueden ayudar a obtener aceptación del público. También se necesitan mecanismos efectivos para comunicar a los participantes actuales que el proceso de planificación pasa por imaginarse características comunitarias y preferencias de vivienda y estilos de vida para sus nietos o bisnietos, dentro de muchos años.
Como se apuntó previamente, las inversiones iniciales en transporte, desarrollo económico, educación y servicios públicos pueden afectar significativamente a una comunidad y hacer de catalizador para la creación de puestos de empleo de alto nivel y obtener una alta tasa de retorno. Para alcanzar este potencial, hacen falta mecanismos que faciliten estas inversiones, ya sea en suelos privados o suelos de fideicomisos estatales. La continuación del trabajo sobre el valor de contribución de la conservación de suelos, inversiones en infraestructura, planificación y servicios de ecosistemas, así como la integración de esta información en la planificación de escenarios, resultaría de gran ayuda en la tarea de resolver la incertidumbre e impulsar la sustentabilidad comunitaria.
Otros proyectos y lecciones aprendidas
WLC realizó tres proyectos adicionales de demostración para ilustrar y mejorar las herramientas de planificación de escenarios y aplicarlas en distintas situaciones.
Condado de Gallatin, Montana
El personal del Sonoran Institute colaboró con la Universidad Estatal de Montana para organizar un taller con las partes interesadas locales, en el que cuatro equipos distintos produjeron escenarios para concentrar el crecimiento proyectado en la región actualmente desarrollada del “triángulo” de Bozeman, Belgrade y Four Corners. Este esfuerzo integró exitosamente la herramienta de planificación de escenarios Envision Tomorrow con las proyecciones de unidades de vivienda del Modelo de Crecimiento del Sonoran Institute, y demostró el valor de las herramientas de modelación de retorno a la inversión como elemento de verificación del uso propuesto del suelo y los tipos de construcción. El proyecto también demostró el valor de la planificación de escenarios a los expertos locales.
Las lecciones aprendidas incluyeron las siguientes: (1) para muchos participantes, los mapas impresos son más intuitivos que la tecnología de pantalla táctil que utilizamos; (2) se debería usar información adicional sobre las características del suelo, como la productividad de la tierra y los valores del hábitat, para preparar los escenarios de crecimiento; y (3) hacen falta técnicas más efectivas para visualizar la densidad y el diseño de los distintos tipos de uso del suelo, así como para incorporar las realidades políticas y del mercado que las herra mientas de planificación de escenarios generalmente no captan.
Los productos de este proyecto en Montana incluirán la creación de una biblioteca de tipos de construcción apropiados para la región para usar con los modelos de retorno de inversión y escenarios, y un informe que examina los costos y los beneficios, incluyendo el impacto en la sustentabilidad, de un crecimiento futuro en el área del triángulo del valle de Gallatin. Con el respaldo de WLC, la Universidad Estatal de Montana ha podido incorporar el uso de herramientas de planificación de escenarios en sus programas de estudiantes graduados.
Condado de Garfield, Colorado
La oficina de Áreas Legadas del Oeste de Colorado del Sonoran Institute, con el respaldo del Instituto Lincoln, la Agencia de Protección Ambiental de los Estados Unidos y otros contribuyentes locales, utilizó la herramienta Envision Tomorrow como una nueva manera de impulsar la implementación de planes adoptados previamente para contrucción en parcelas vacías y reurbanización de uso mixto en áreas de crecimiento previsto. Este proyecto se concentró en la educación de las partes interesadas sobre los mecanismos necesarios para implementar recientes planes comprensivos adoptados para el desarrollo centrado en ciudades, más que en la generación de escenarios para un plan comprensivo.
Uno de los tres esfuerzos que se llevaron a cabo por separado examinó la factibilidad política y de mercado de la revitalización del centro de Rifle, Colorado. El proyecto de la ciudad de Rifle utilizó exitosamente una herramienta de retorno de la inversión para identificar factores financieros y de regulación que podrían afectar los esfuerzos de revitalización, y congregó a las partes claves necesarias para su implementación: propietarios, emprendedores, corredores inmobiliarios, comisionados de planificación, funcionarios locales, representantes estatales del transporte y personal local.
Una de las lecciones aprendidas en este proyecto fue la importancia de evaluar las visiones audaces a la luz de la realidad del mercado. Por ejemplo, los esfuerzos de la anterior planificación de Rifle se concentraron en edificios de uso mixto de seis a ocho pisos, pero en el mercado actual, incluso los proyectos de tres a cuatro pisos no se consideran factibles (figura 4c). Ahora se presta mayor atención a proyectos de uso mixto de dos pisos y casas adosadas. Las visualizaciones de una parcela subutilizada en el centro de la ciudad ilustran el tipo de opción de un solo piso que puede llegar a ser más factible para el desarrollo comercial inicial (figura 4b). También se identificó como un límite a la inversión las restricciones de estacionamiento de vehículos y un requisito mínimo elevado de cobertura de lotes. Además de identificar cambios en el código de edificación de Rifle, estos resultados generaron un debate sobre el papel de las alianzas público privadas para catalizar el emprendimiento inmobiliario del centro.
Cuenca de Morongo, California
Esta área de gran cantidad de espacio abierto y hábitat silvestre, situada entre el Parque Nacional Joshua Tree y el Centro de Combate Aéreo Terrestre de la Infantería de Marina en el sur de California, puede verse afectada por la expansión regional de población. Este proyecto del Grupo de Espacios Abiertos de la Cuenca de Morongo es un esfuerzo innovador para vincular los resultados actuales de priorización de conservación con una herramienta SIG para analizar y predecir de qué manera los patrones de uso del suelo afectan el hábitat silvestre y la capacidad de planificación de escenarios de Envision Tomorrow.
Estamos evaluando los impactos ambientales de los patrones actuales y de las alternativas potenciales de desarrollo y las opciones de planificación geográfica y del uso del suelo. Las herramientas que se están desarrollando con este empeño serán útiles para todos los fideicomisos de suelos del país que estén interesados en aliarse con otros socios para tratar temas de planificación local y regional e incorporar en sus proyectos objetivos mayores de conservación del paisaje y el hábitat silvestre.
Herramientas de planificación de código abierto
WLC ha concentrado recientemente sus esfuerzos en el desarrollo de herramientas de planificación de código abierto como un mecanismo para aumentar el uso de planificación de escenarios. Los factores claves que entorpecen su uso incluyen: (1) el costo y la complejidad de las herramientas propiamente dichas; (2) el costo y disponibilidad de datos; (3) la falta de normalización, que dificulta la integración de herramientas y datos; y (4) herramientas privadas que pueden ser difíciles de adaptar a las condiciones locales y pueden impedir la innovación.
Los partidarios de las herramientas de modelación de código abierto creen que los códigos normalizados permitirán una mayor transparencia e interoperabilidad entre modelos, lo que daría como resultado una capacidad más rápida de innovación y un mayor nivel de utilización. Como resultado de nuestro trabajo con Envision Tomorrow en el proyecto de Superstition Vistas, WLC y otros miembros de un grupo de herramientas de planificación de código abierto siguen tratando de impulsar las herramientas de planificación de escenarios y la promesa de las herramientas de código abierto para promover comunidades sustentables en muchos más lugares.
Sobre El Autor
Jim Holway dirige Western Lands and Communities, la sociedad conjunta del Instituto Lincoln con el Sonoran Institute, con sede en Phoenix, Arizona. Previamente fue subdirector del Departamento de Recursos Hídricos de Arizona y profesor de práctica en la Universidad Estatal de Arizona.
Referencias
Propst, Luther. 2008. A model for sustainable development in Arizona’s Sun Corridor. Land Lines 20(3).
Superstition Vistas Consulting Team. 2011. Superstition Vistas: Final report and strategic actions. www.superstition-vistas.org
Publicaciones Del Instituto Lincoln
Brail, Richard K. 2008. Planning support systems for cities and regions.
Campoli, Julie, and Alex S. MacLean. 2007. Visualizing density.
Condon, Patrick M., Duncan Cavens, and Nicole Miller. 2009. Urban planning tools for climate change mitigation.
Culp, Peter W., Andy Laurenzi, and Cynthia C. Tuell. 2006. State trust lands in the West: Fiduciary duty in a changing landscape.
Hopkins, Lewis D., and Marisa A. Zapata. 2007. Engaging the future: Forecasts, scenarios, plans, and projects.
Kwartler, Michael, and Gianni Longo. 2008. Visioning and visualization: People, pixels, and plans.
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More than two decades have passed since a government-led megaproject set out to transform Puerto Madero, the oldest sector of the port district at the mouth of the River Plate in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Once a center of decay that was hastening decline in the adjacent downtown, Puerto Madero is now a tourist icon and hub of progress, drawing in residents and visitors alike to its park and cultural amenities, housing approximately 5,000 new inhabitants, and generating 45,000 service jobs. Home to a number of new architectural landmarks—including Santiago Calatrava’s Woman’s Bridge (Puente de la Mujer) and César Pelli’s YPF headquarters—the redeveloped port has contributed to the reactivation of the city center, influencing development trends throughout the Argentinean capital.
Encompassing 170 hectares near the downtown presidential palace (Casa Rosada), Puerto Madero was one of Latin America’s first urban brownfield renewal projects of this scale and complexity. The project was conceived as part of a wider strategy for city-center development that also included changes in land use regulations, building refurbishments, and social housing in heritage areas. This article draws on two decades’ worth of evidence and experience with the project to examine the extent to which Puerto Madero has achieved its central objectives: to contribute to the reversal of undesirable development patterns in the city, assert the downtown as the eminent center of Buenos Aires, stimulate the local economy, and improve the living conditions of all porteños.
The Port in Crisis
Puerto Madero was abandoned as a port at the beginning of the 20th century, when operations transferred to Puerto Nuevo. By the late 1980s, Puerto Madero had suffered several decades of neglect and underutilization. The federal General Administration of Ports owned the land, but the city and national governments both had jurisdiction over planning. Similarly, greater Buenos Aires—home to 35 percent of Argentina’s population and producer of 46 percent of its GDP—is governed by an overlapping set of institutions that often have trouble coordinating. To simplify this inter-jurisdictional governance, a public limited corporation, with shares divided equally between the national and city governments, was formed to manage the project. In 1989, the federal government transferred ownership of this sector of the port to the new corporation, CAPM (Corporación Antiguo Puerto Madero).
After receiving the federal land transfer, the role of CAPM was to develop the site plan, define a self-funded financial model, undertake the site improvements associated with the project, commercialize the land, and supervise the development process in accordance with the established time frames and guidelines of the master plan. Unlike similar ventures elsewhere in the world, which generally rely on substantial public financing or access to credit, CAPM by decree would receive no public resources besides the land transfer and would generate its own revenue to cover operating costs. The port redevelopment could not have happened otherwise, as the federal government was focused on fiscal recovery and job creation amidst a nationwide economic crisis.
Context and Chronology of the Megaproject
As in most Latin American cities, the displacement of activities from Buenos Aires’s traditional downtown had curtailed use of the public transit system and led to the slow decline of historical buildings, many of which had lapsed into substandard housing. The proposed redevelopment of Puerto Madero was part of the city’s broader strategy to protect heritage, promote downtown development, stimulate the local economy, and contribute to the reversal of these undesirable settlement patterns.
Development took place in four stages. During the first phase (1989–1992), CAPM sold the old docklands on the western end of the port, initiating the redevelopment process and covering initial project costs. In 1991, the city and Society of Architects signed an agreement to facilitate the Puerto Madero National Ideas Competition. In 1992, the three winning teams collaborated to create the Draft Urban Project for Puerto Madero. The redevelopment required a new subdivision geometry that would allow for construction without requiring the demolition of valuable landmark structures. Many of the historical port buildings, such as the warehouses, would be restored with new functions, thereby combining valuable historic patrimony with new development.
During the second phase (1993–1995), the winners of the Ideas Competition were awarded the master plan contract. The original proposal called for the development of 1.5 million square meters of floor area concentrated in a central location to help revive the downtown. With a 20-year horizon, the plan comprised commercial activities, cultural and recreational facilities, cafes, restaurants, amenities, professional studios, and medium-sized commercial activities (e.g. printing, packaging, and storage companies), which the 16 renovated former port warehouses could adequately accommodate. Provisions for green space, to compensate for an observed deficit in the extended city center, included a metropolitan central park, ecological reserve, and rehabilitated southern esplanade. Given the original assumption that office buildings would predominate, the number of anticipated dwelling units was to be fewer than 3,000. (Residential use experienced higher demand, however, leading to approximately 11,000 dwellings units today.)
During the third phase (1996–2000), most of the public works were built, and project expenditures peaked along with land sales. Throughout this phase, the cost per square meter of construction did not vary significantly, oscillating from around $150 to $300 per square meter up to the end of the decade. (Note: All prices are in U.S. dollars.) By this third phase, the investor profile had evolved from an initial pioneer group of small and medium firms that faced high levels of risk (1989–1993) to large firms that invested in proven products. By 2001, there was little public land left to sell, and the public corporation had enough liquid assets to complete the public works required by the project.
The fourth phase of development includes two segments, from 2001 to 2003 and from 2004 to today. Initially, the project suffered from the economic, financial, and political turmoil associated with the 2001 fiscal crisis propelled by the government’s default on its external debt payments. Throughout that period, CAPM faced high levels of governmental uncertainty, and land sales stalled. After the 2003 presidential elections, however, the country resumed international negotiations, restructured its external debt, and significantly improved economic conditions. Simultaneously, CAPM was able to resolve litigation on some parcels, which it then proceeded to sell, using the revenues to complete the public works on site.
As the land in Puerto Madero became scarce, developers looked to the surrounding downtown areas as alternative investment locations. The scale and complexity of the port redevelopment attracted investors with closer links to national and international financial markets. Many developers chose to invest downtown instead of in the suburbs. Thus the project succeeded in redirecting market trends to align with urban policy priorities—a shift that would not have happened without state intervention.
Project Achievements
Now the project is almost complete, with approximately 1.5 million square meters of floor area as planned. From start to finish, project funds were derived entirely from land sales and concessions.
By 2011, CAPM had sold approximately $257.7 million worth of property and invested $113 million in public works, with an overhead of about $92 million, including management fees and other operating expenses. Land prices escalated from $150 in the early 1990s to $1,200 per square meter today, and the project has attracted considerable private investment in addition to the state’s land transfer.
The project added four major bodies of water totaling 39 hectares and 28 hectares of green space to the city’s parks system. It also facilitated the opening of the ecological reserve and enabled renewed access to the southern esplanade, the Costanera Sur, designed at the beginning of the 20th century by Jean-Claude Nicolas Forestier, who designed Paseo de Prado in Havana, Cuba. The adjacent downtown again serves as the undisputed reference point for public office and high-level administrative, financial, and commercial activity.
Puerto Madero spurred local economic growth, which has ultimately translated into higher tax revenues. As a state initiative, it triggered more than $2.5 billion of private investment, with a present value exceeding $6 billion. Although a full accounting is not available, revenues from corporate income taxes are estimated at $158 million, and taxes paid by the public corporation are $19.86 million. The new property owners pay approximately $12.4 million per year in property taxes to the city government. Once construction is complete, property tax revenues are expected to reach $24.3 million per year.
The project also stimulated job market growth. To date, private construction in Puerto Madero involved about $450 million in labor costs—the equivalent of 900,000 months of work or 3,750 jobs per year distributed over 20 years. The project investments in public works created 313 jobs per year for 20 years plus 26,777 administrative jobs as of 2006 and 45,281 services jobs by 2010. These figures demonstrate the vital role the project has played in stimulating the local economy.
Diminished Returns
Despite the overall success of Puerto Madero, its social outcomes are considered unsatisfactory by many observers. Largely to blame was the fast sale of big land parcels during the most dynamic sales period, from 1996 to 1999. Some of these parcels were the size of an entire city block and are now occupied by towers that function in some ways like vertical gated communities. Furthermore, large, fully equipped firms were needed to perform the tremendous volume of construction, which excluded smaller and medium-sized companies. Thus, the morphology of large land parcels essentially defined the types of businesses and products being offered as well as the social profile of prospective buyers.
Moreover, the marketing strategy of private developers colored the general project discourse, diluting socially inclusive public policy objectives in favor of creating an exclusive neighborhood. Wealthy citizens and high-end entrepreneurs covet Puerto Madero’s residential and commercial spaces. CAPM has difficulty protecting the public character of even the district’s new open spaces, such as the ecological reserve, as affluent port district residents strongly discourage entertainment and sport activities that would appeal to all porteños citywide. In this regard, CAPM limited itself to articulating the interests of private entrepreneurs and current residents and ignored policies designed to benefit many inhabitants of the city. Affordable housing and other elements that would have ensured diversity in the residential demographics were not part of CAPM’s mandate. Several social programs with this objective were planned as part of the broader downtown strategy, but they did not materialize, isolating Puerto Madero as an elite development area.
The project scale of Puerto Madero, which would have been risky and unmanageable for private investors at the time, proves that the public sector can assume a leading role in developing the city. It also demonstrates, however, that socially progressive standards are difficult to maintain once a project becomes prestigious and rising land values increase the pressure from private developers. Puerto Madero’s ability to self-finance was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it enabled a state-led development process without incurring government costs. Because the public corporation could defer the payment of dividends to shareholders, it was able to capitalize on the proceeds of land sales and reinvest in site works and public amenities. The open and accessible neighborhood, dotted with public infrastructure and open space, largely protected the public interest. Furthermore, the project stimulated economic activity and contributed to a more efficient overall development pattern citywide, fulfilling two important public policy objectives.
Outcomes would have improved if financial support from multilateral agency loans had been available, to better pace the rhythm of sales and enable long-term decisions that would enhance the public benefit of the project. Flexible bidding requirements on large plots in the second half of the 1990s increased sales but ensured that the majority of the incremental land value from the last increase in real estate prices accrued to the large investors who commited early.
In 2011, CAPM transferred the maintenance of all developed areas to the city and determined to complete the remaining public works by 2013. Today, CAPM’s income and expenditure are balanced; income is limited to rents from the piers and the parking lots. Corporate assets include several properties (offices, lots) whose proceeds constitute the company profit and whose market value is estimated at $50 million. These profits could seed new capital ventures or be transferred to shareholders when they decide to dissolve CAPM. The soundness of CAPM’s financial statements is verified, though the criticism it inspired during the development of Puerto Madero may cost it access to new ventures from the government.
The initial public investment in Puerto Madero was $120 million, including the land (originally assessed at $60 million) and a set of intangible services such as project design, expertise, and consulting. Total land sales amounted to $257.7 million with a general cost (administration, taxes) of around $92 million (excluding start-up costs, which did not involve monetary transactions), which leaves a modest rate of return. Although prices should have been promotional during the initial stage of development, sale values could have increased over time, if sales had been timed to take advantage of increased market prices. Higher rates of return would have required higher average sales value, better paced land sales, and more modest public works commitments, such as infrastructure, public space, and parks. CAPM could have saved considerably if construction of bridges and walkways had not extended beyond the project perimeter, under municipal jurisdiction.
The results of the project would have differed greatly had the land been sold unimproved or had it landed in the hands of private developers. In this regard, it is important to note that at the time of project inception the risk was generally considered high, and the scale of investment surpassed the capacity of local private investors. Similarly, international investors would have been unwilling to take on such a high level of risk without major concessions on the part of the government. Furthermore, private developers were interested in promoting large projects with access restricted almost exclusively to owners. A number of final project attributes, such as the public space contributions and holistic character of the development, were guaranteed by the control exercised by the government via the public corporation to ensure benefits for the community.
Conclusion
The original objectives of the project—to stimulate economic activity, affirm the role of the city center, contribute to the reversal of undesirable development patterns, and improve living conditions—have arguably been met. Puerto Madero created jobs, stimulated the local economy, and brought higher levels of investment and complexity downtown, contributing to its supremacy and leading to improvements in the surrounding area. It created high-quality open space, enhanced the metropolitan park system, and improved the overall development pattern in Buenos Aires.
However, the relaxation of quality controls, wide scope of the projects, and rapid pace of land sales at certain times reduced potential project revenues accruing to the public sector and reduced the initiative’s redistributive capacity. Access to credit would have strengthened CAPM’s position and allowed the careful staging of land sales and site improvements. It is encouraging that residential occupancy has greatly exceeded original projections, consolidating a trend to repopulate the city center, though the project should have included a percentage of affordable housing.
These results reveal the complexity of undertaking multiple initiatives to achieve a balanced social outcome. Puerto Madero fell short of incorporating a greater social mix, because other strategies for the downtown, including the rehabilitation of heritage buildings, were unrealized. Future urban project management initiatives should contemplate factors that would ensure the continuity of policies. Within this framework, it is important to encourage participation among the beneficiaries of specific interventions, such as affordable housing, as their involvement and commitment is the strongest guarantor of policy continuity.
Finally, Puerto Madero indicates the state’s capacity to proactively lead the urban development process. In this case, the state stepped out of a regulatory role and took charge of a significant redevelopment initiative. CAPM demonstrated a capacity to sustain a complex urban regeneration project over a long period of time and stay afloat through a turbulent political climate and severe economic crisis. The creation of the public corporation represents a creative innovation in urban management, as it offers an example of how to achieve project self-financing and interjurisdictional cooperation in urban governance. In this regard, the Puerto Madero experience serves as a convincing model for interjurisdictional urban management and reaffirms the positive role that the state can play in city planning initiatives.
About the Authors
Alfredo Garay was secretary of planning in Buenos Aires when the Puerto Madero megaproject began, and he still serves on the board of CAPM. An architect and chair professor at the University of Buenos Aires, he has received numerous national and international awards for urban management and the assembly of large interventions.
Laura Wainer is an architect and urban planner in Buenos Aires. In 2012, she received a Fulbright Scholarship, the Delta Kappa Gamma International Fellowship, and the President’s Scholarship from the New School in New York. Contact: wainer.laura@gmail.com
Hayley Henderson has worked as an urban planner in Buenos Aires and Brisbane, Australia. She is now a PhD candidate in urban planning at The University of Melbourne, Australia. Contact: hayleyhen@gmail.com
Demian Rotbart is an architect, urban planner, and assistant professor of urban planning at the University of Buenos Aires. Contact: demian.rotbart@gmail.com
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El acceso universal a internet de alta velocidad es un sueño generalizado en estos tiempos. Todos, desde el presidente de Google, Inc. hasta cualquiera de nosotros, lo hemos anhelado. Y la prensa tecnológica se inunda de irritadas críticas, preguntándose por qué las velocidades de banda ancha habituales en los Estados Unidos están tan retrasadas con respecto a las que existen, por ejemplo, en Corea del Sur.
Sin embargo, hace sólo cinco años este no era un tema candente. En aquel entonces, el debate (y las acciones) no era liderado por el gobierno federal o el sector privado. Los primeros en movilizarse fueron diversos municipios con un pensamiento innovador: ciudades y distritos como Chattanooga, Tennessee; Lafayette, Louisiana; Sandy, Oregón; y Opelika, Alabama.
De más está decir que los motivos y las soluciones eran variadas. No obstante, ahora que la conectividad de alta velocidad se está reconociendo como una infraestructura urbana fundamental, Chattanooga se ha convertido en un caso de estudio muy útil. El proceso por el cual llegó a autodenominarse “gigaciudad” (en referencia a la disponibilidad de conexiones a Internet con velocidades de transferencia de datos de 1 gigabit por segundo, es decir, hasta 200 veces más rápidas que la velocidad habitual de banda ancha que tienen muchos estadounidenses) comenzó con una iniciativa municipal visionaria desarrollada mediante una meditada coordinación entre el sector público y el privado. Recientemente esta medida ha comenzado incluso a mostrar efectos tangibles en la planificación y el desarrollo de la ciudad, especialmente la nueva imagen que se le está dando al centro de la ciudad, rezagado durante tanto tiempo. En resumen, Chattanooga está comenzando a responder a una pregunta crucial: Una vez que una ciudad tiene acceso a Internet de primera clase, ¿qué hace en realidad con ello?
Esta historia comienza hace más de una década, cuando EPB, la empresa de energía eléctrica propiedad de la ciudad de Chattanooga, planificaba una mejora importante en su red eléctrica. El director ejecutivo de EPB, Harold Depriest, abogaba por un plan que consistía en el despliegue de cables de fibra óptica que también pudieran usarse para el acceso a Internet. Una vez eliminados los obstáculos normativos locales, el nuevo sistema se construyó hacia el año 2010, y cada cliente de energía eléctrica de EPB en el área de Chattanooga (lo que significó prácticamente todos los hogares y negocios) obtuvo acceso a Internet de 1 gigabit. Sin embargo, había que pagar por este servicio, al igual que se pagaba la electricidad, y el precio que se estableció al principio para el acceso a la velocidad más rápida de Internet fue de aproximadamente US$350 al mes.
“Tenían muy, muy pocos clientes”, recuerda Ken Hays, presidente de The Enterprise Center, una organización sin fines de lucro que, desde el año 2014, se ha enfocado (a petición de los funcionarios municipales electos) en desarrollar estrategias en torno a lo que los habitantes de Chattanooga denominan “el giga”. Según Hays, el presidente de Lamp Post Group, una exitosa empresa de capital de riesgo dedicada a la tecnología, expresó su adhesión inmediatamente. Sin embargo, a nivel ciudadano, “no teníamos el mismo entusiasmo” que el debate sobre el acceso a Internet de 1 giga genera hoy en día. En 2010 “no había muchos buenos casos de estudio”, concluye Hays.
Sin embargo, un gran cambio estaba en marcha. El anuncio de Google Fiber (la incursión del gigante de las búsquedas en Internet en el desarrollo de infraestructura de Internet de alta velocidad) despertó nuevo interés. Además, en el año 2013, Jenny Toomey, directora de la Fundación Ford que se dedica a los derechos en Internet, ayudó a organizar una especie de cumbre para que los funcionarios de municipios como Chattanooga, Lafayette y otras ciudades pudieran reunirse y comparar notas. “Todavía era muy incipiente en ese momento”, recuerda George W. McCarthy, presidente y director ejecutivo del Instituto Lincoln y economista, quien, en ese entonces, era director de la iniciativa Oportunidad Metropolitana de la Fundación Ford. Sin embargo, según McCarthy, esa cumbre marcó el inicio de nuevas conversaciones sobre la forma en que tales iniciativas podrían hacer más competitivas y equitativas a las ciudades, así como también menos dependientes de las soluciones que provienen exclusivamente del sector privado y que, con frecuencia, consideramos más eficientes que las ofrecidas por el gobierno. “Y dos años después de esa cumbre, el tema acaba de explotar”, concluye McCarthy.
De hecho, la cumbre se convirtió en ese tipo de acontecimiento extraño que dio a luz a una nueva organización, Next Century Cities, fundada en 2014 y que actualmente posee una membresía de más de 100 municipios. Esta organización comparte las buenas prácticas basadas en un plan según el cual el acceso a Internet de alta velocidad es una cuestión de infraestructura fundamental e independiente que las comunidades pueden y deben controlar y diseñar.
Contra este telón de fondo, Chattanooga estaba tomando medidas para demostrar cómo podría aprovecharse “el giga”. The Lamp Post Group se había trasladado al centro de la ciudad y el acceso a Internet de alta velocidad era sólo el comienzo para los jóvenes emprendedores y especialistas en tecnología que deseaba atraer. “Si no tenemos opciones de vivienda, si no tenemos un espacio abierto, si no tenemos cafeterías de moda… se irán a ciudades que sí los tengan”, señala Kim White, presidente y director ejecutivo de River City Company, una organización de desarrollo sin fines de lucro.
A partir de 2013, River City propuso, mediante un plan para el centro de la ciudad y un estudio de mercado, estrategias para mejorar la accesibilidad a peatones y ciclistas, los espacios verdes y, en especial, las opciones de vivienda. Más de 600 personas participaron en el proceso de planificación posterior, el cual tuvo como meta final la revitalización (o demolición) de 22 edificios. Hoy en día, según White, la mitad de dichos edificios están en proceso de redesarrollo y se han invertido más de 400 millones de dólares en el centro de la ciudad. En el próximo año y medio se incorporarán 1.500 apartamentos al mercado de la zona del centro, además de nuevas viviendas para estudiantes y plazas de hotel. La ciudad ha ofrecido incentivos fiscales, algunos de los cuales se han diseñado con el fin de que un cierto porcentaje de las nuevas viviendas sea económicamente asequible. La ciudad también invirtió 2,8 millones de dólares en un parque en el centro de la ciudad, que representa una parte “clave” del plan para “ofrecer áreas donde la gente pueda reunirse y disfrutar del espacio público”, según señala White. Uno de los proyectos de apartamentos, el edificio Tomorrow, ofrecerá “microunidades” y un restaurante a pie de calle. “No creo que hubiéramos podido atraer estos tipos de negocios ni la curiosidad de los jóvenes” sin el empuje brindado por el aspecto tecnológico y de acceso a Internet de alta velocidad, concluye White. “Esto nos ha dado a conocer”.
Según Hays, el giga también inspiró una iniciativa respaldada por el municipio, consistente en identificar estrategias clave de desarrollo que dieron como resultado un “distrito innovador” en el centro de la ciudad impulsado por Enterprise Center. El fundamento de esta iniciativa consiste en restaurar un edificio de oficinas de 10 pisos para transformarlo en el Centro de Innovación Edney, que tendrá espacios de trabajo compartido y alojará a la sede de CO.LAB., una organización incubadora de negocios locales. La Universidad de Tennessee en Chattanooga tiene un proyecto consistente en un laboratorio de impresoras 3D en el distrito innovador; incluso se ha remodelado la oficina del centro de la Biblioteca Pública de Chattanooga, para incluir un espacio educativo tecnocéntrico.
EPB, cuya visión original de la fibra óptica puso en movimiento la idea de la gigaciudad, ya hace tiempo que ha logrado dar con una solución respecto a los precios (en la actualidad, el acceso a Internet de velocidad de 1 giga cuesta desde aproximadamente US$70 al mes) y ha atraído a más de 70.000 clientes. Desde hace poco también ofrece a los residentes de bajos recursos que reúnan ciertos requisitos acceso a Internet de 100 megabit, mucho más rápido que la mayoría de las conexiones de banda ancha disponibles en los Estados Unidos, por US$27 al mes. Además, las acciones de EPB para expandirse a las áreas adyacentes a Chattanooga que no reciben servicios se han convertido en un componente importante de las medidas más amplias que están surgiendo para desafiar las normas en muchos estados, desde Texas a Minnesota o Washington, las cuales limitan efectivamente a los municipios a la hora de ofrecer sus propias conexiones a Internet de alta velocidad.
En resumen: las cosas han cambiado mucho, tanto en Chattanooga como en otras ciudades y distritos que han impulsado el desarrollo de una infraestructura de Internet que el sector privado no estaba ofreciendo. “La mayor parte de este trabajo se está dando en este mismo momento a nivel municipal”, comenta Deb Socia, directora de Next Century Cities. “Son los alcaldes, los administradores municipales y los gerentes de sistemas los que están tomando medidas para averiguar qué necesitan sus ciudades”. Las implicaciones que esto tiene para cuestiones cívicas fundamentales como la educación, la salud, la seguridad, etc. todavía están en pleno desarrollo. Y, precisamente debido a que el debate y la planificación se están dando a nivel municipal, esta cuestión no dependerá solamente de consideraciones de mercado que favorecen lo redituable sobre lo posible. “Lo mejor de esto”, resume McCarthy, “es que se trata de una cuestión integradora, no excluyente”.
Rob Walker (robwalker.net) es colaborador de Design Observer y The New York Times.
