Berkeley, California, might be described as a victim of its own success—a roaring innovation economy, a college town, and a hugely popular place to live, minutes from Oakland and San Francisco, but plagued by a staggering lack of affordability, rampant real estate speculation, and homelessness.
When it comes to new housing development, much of the narrative in recent years has been framed in terms of two camps: those who oppose neighborhood infill development, labeled as proclaiming “not in my backyard,” and advocates of dramatically increased supply of different kinds of housing, under the banner of YIMBY—“yes in my backyard.”
In an interview for the Land Matters podcast, Mayor Jesse Arreguín makes it clear he believes the more housing, the better.
“We need to build new housing,” he said, in a recent interview at Berkeley City Hall. “What we have is a crisis that is decades in the making through deliberate actions on the part of government, through racial segregation or redlining, through fierce resistance to building housing, and through policies that have constrained the production of housing, and now we’re in a crisis. I think a crisis and emergency requires that we take emergency action. That’s why we are embracing building more housing—and we will continue to build lots more housing, because we think that is the solution to addressing our housing crisis.”
Arreguín was elected mayor in 2016, becoming the first Latino to hold the office and, at 32, the youngest mayor in a century. He was reelected with over 65 percent of the vote in 2020. The son and grandson of farmworkers, Arreguín grew up in San Francisco. At nine, he helped lead efforts to name a city street after activist Cesar Chavez, beginning a lifelong commitment to social justice.
After he graduated from the University of California, Berkeley, he stayed in the city, serving on numerous boards overseeing planning and zoning, and ultimately the city council. He is also now president of the Association of Bay Area Governments, which is the Bay Area’s Council of Governments and regional planning agency.
Arreguín came into office mindful of the concerns of established residents who expressed skepticism about allowing additional height and density, but says the situation is so dire, creative solutions are in order—in keeping with the area’s reputation for innovation in the private sector.
“We are looking at innovation, not just in terms of scientific research, but from a government perspective, innovation in creating public policy,” he said. “I see Berkeley as an innovation lab, a test lab for new approaches to public policy, which is why we’re really thinking intentionally about how we can create solutions to housing and homelessness, and a lot of the other challenges facing cities in 2022.”
An edited version of the interview is available online at Land Lines magazine, as the latest installment of the Mayor’s Desk feature.
Anthony Flint is a senior fellow at the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy, host of the Land Matters podcast, and a contributing editor of Land Lines.
How Land Value Capture Can Pay for Infrastructure, Affordable Housing, and Public Services
By Will Jason, September 14, 2022
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As cities and towns seek funding for transportation, parks, affordable housing, and other public goods, they often overlook one of their most valuable assets—land. A new Policy Focus Report from the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy shows how local governments make land more valuable by building infrastructure and facilitating urban development, and how they can ensure that the community reaps the benefits.
Land value capture enables communities to recover and reinvest the land value increase that results from actions such as building new train stations or changing regulations to enable more dense development. In Land Value Capture in the United States: Funding Infrastructure and Local Government Services, author Gerald Korngold explains how the major land value capture tools work, and recommends a path forward for leaders who want to implement them.
The Trustee Professor of Law at New York Law School, Korngold also lays out the legal precedents for different types of land value capture and recommends ways policy makers can minimize legal risks.
“Land value capture has in various forms been used and legally upheld in the United States for some 150 years,” he writes. “It remains a valid and viable option to finance government activities, provided policy makers leverage available tools appropriately.”
Korngold provides an in-depth analysis of seven land value capture tools—exactions, impact fees, linkage fees, special assessments, mandatory inclusionary housing, incentive zoning, and transferable development rights. He uses case studies from around the country to explain how land value capture can contribute to public policy goals such as equity and sustainability.
For example, in the Northern Virginia suburbs of Washington, DC, commercial property owners agreed to tax themselves more than $700 million to fund a 23-mile extension of the Metrorail system to Dulles International Airport, roughly an eighth of the total cost of the project. The first section of the new line opened in 2014, and the rest is scheduled to open later this year.
In downtown Chicago, the city grants developers permission to construct larger buildings in exchange for voluntary fees, which are calculated based on the size of each project. The city directs 80 percent of the revenue to commercial development in underserved neighborhoods, 10 percent to public improvements near each downtown project, and 10 percent to the restoration of landmarks.
Such policies are possible because transportation infrastructure and zoning for greater density have both been shown to increase the value of land, either by providing access to jobs and amenities, or increasing the profitability of a development, as Korngold documents in the report.
“Without land value capture, this increased land value remains exclusively in private hands despite the public actions that created it,” Korngold writes.
The report is intended for state and local policy makers, urban planners, economic development officials, civic leaders, lawyers, advocates, and other stakeholders.
“Gerald Korngold provides an all-too-rare pragmatic overview of land value capture, a topic that stokes great passion from theorists and practitioners alike,” said Ian Carlton, senior economic advisor for ECONorthwest, a consulting firm that specializes in economics, finance, and planning. “He clearly explains many of the value capture options that one could implement in the U.S. context.”
Will Jason is the director of communications at the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.
Image: The Dulles Airport Metrorail extension continues to raise funding from special assessments as the project moves through its second phase. Credit: Tom Saunders, VDOT/Flickr/CC BY-NC-ND 2.0
A coalition of 21 leading national affordable housing groups is acknowledging improvements to Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac’s Duty to Serve (DTS) Underserved Market Plans for 2022-2024 but calling on the government-sponsored enterprises to go further to reach underserved housing markets.
The Underserved Mortgage Markets Coalition (UMMC) released a scorecard to evaluate the enterprises’ newest Duty to Serve plans, which were produced April 27. The Scorecard for the Approved DTS Plans 2022-2024 evaluates the enterprises’ commitment to innovating and developing effective solutions to meet their responsibilities under Duty to Serve, a federal regulation that requires the enterprises to prioritize and improve affordable housing finance opportunities in three historically neglected markets: manufactured housing, affordable housing preservation, and rural housing.
The scorecard recognizes significant improvement in the latest plans compared with the versions released a year earlier. However, the scorecard finds that Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac failed to fully implement a majority of the improvements recommended in the Blueprint for Impactful Duty to Serve Plans, which the UMMC released January 20.
For example, neither Fannie Mae nor Freddie Mac substantially increased its commitment to help manufactured housing homeowners obtain traditional mortgages, and neither adopted the recommendation to target 10 percent of their loan purchase to low- and moderate-income families in areas with high energy cost burdens.
The UMMC recommends that Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac carefully consider the scorecard in determining how to improve their Duty to Serve plans, and that the Federal Housing Finance Agency (FHFA) take the scorecard into account in evaluating the enterprises’ performance. Consistent with UMMC’s intention of working collaboratively with Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, the coalition hopes that both companies will work collaboratively to amend their DTS plans so that the UMMC can issue an updated DTS scorecard with higher scores.
Founded in October of 2021, the UMMC consists of 21 leading U.S. affordable housing organizations seeking to hold Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac accountable to their founding purpose: to bring housing finance opportunities to American families not traditionally served by the private market. The UMMC identified numerous flaws in the enterprises’ previous Duty to Serve plans, released in May of 2021, and supported FHFA’s decision in January of 2022 to reject those plans. It is now working with the enterprises and other stakeholders to use the power of the federal government to improve housing affordability and boost homeownership.
Image: Balconies of a modern apartment. Credit: ImageGap via Getty Images.
The Private Equity Land Grab Expanding to Smaller Legacy Cities
By Catherine Tumber, July 25, 2022
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Small and midsize legacy cities, once written off as relics of an industrial past, are important actors as climate change plays out in the United States. As much as one-third of the U.S. population lives in these metro areas, which are home to fertile farmland, abundant fresh water, productive capacity and culture, and comparatively cool weather. As climate change accelerates, these resources will attract people displaced from other parts of the country and the world.
To succeed as “climate havens,” legacy cities must protect their assets, which also include relatively affordable housing, historic downtowns, and often overbuilt infrastructure, while simultaneously developing strategies to foster climate resilience, environmental justice, and green economic development. However, these cities face a serious threat that could undermine such efforts: large-scale speculative real estate investment that could put housing out of reach for all but the most affluent.
Corporate and institutional investors expanded their role in the housing market more than a decade ago, picking up foreclosed and distressed properties across the country at rock-bottom prices during the Great Recession, then renting or reselling them after the recovery. Today they are consolidating even more property and power, a trend marked by rising real estate ownership by limited liability corporations (LLCs), the increasing sophistication of algorithmic tools for amassing different types of property in aggregate, and increased reliance on driving up rents, rather than house-flipping, to extract profits. Leaders in legacy cities, preoccupied with dramatic population loss for decades and enthusiastically welcoming investment now, could be caught unprepared to handle a land grab that benefits only the wealthy, displacing most everyone else—particularly Black and brown residents.
According to the Department of Housing and Urban Development’s Rental Housing Finance Survey data, individual ownership of rental property fell from 92 percent in 1991 to 72 percent in 2017, with evidence suggesting that it has dropped further since. LLCs, which states authorized in large numbers beginning in the 1990s, account for much of this shift. They are a particularly common ownership structure for apartment dwellings of five or more units and, more recently, for single-family housing and mobile-home parks. These impersonal “equity-mining” operations convert owner-occupied housing to rentals, price out current renters with higher rents through devices such as block purchasing in targeted neighborhoods, and keep first-time homeowners off the market by reducing the available housing stock—all with virtually no accountability due to limited liability protections.
Most of this activity has taken place in growing metropolitan areas, mainly across the South and on the coasts, but legacy cities are emerging targets. Detroit, which has slowed gutting population loss in recent years, was among the 10 U.S. metropolitan areas where private equity accounted for the highest share of purchased homes in 2021. With 19 percent of its home sales made to investors, Detroit found itself in the company of fast-growing cities including Phoenix, Las Vegas, Miami, and Atlanta.
The predominantly Black east side of Cleveland, and the city’s eastern first-ring suburbs, have also been hit hard. Between 2004 and 2020, the proportion of housing purchases made by private equity in Cuyahoga County rose from 7.2 percent to 21.1 percent; on the east side, investor purchases stood at a staggering 46 percent by 2020. Since 2016, Springfield, Massachusetts, with a poverty rate of about 25 percent, has experienced 1,200 single-family private equity home purchases, more than any other city in the state; that figure doesn’t even include purchases of foreclosed properties.
A number of conditions account for this housing market speculation. According to ProPublica reporting, private equity firms have record levels of unallocated capital available for real estate. Investors are also betting on a rising rental market as population outpaces housing supply. The pandemic has played a role too, leaving struggling individual landlords and owner-occupant sellers vulnerable to cash-paying private equity investors. Most housing in smaller legacy cities is single-family, which is currently targeted by private equity. And in a time-honored land-use dynamic, urban “improvements”—such as Springfield’s downtown MGM casino complex and potential East-West rail connection to Boston—tend to attract additional investment.
Countering this speculative, wealth-extracting land grab—a damaging trend that climate change will only exacerbate, as investors eye properties expected to remain viable amid calamitous changes elsewhere—is critical to the long-term economic health of smaller legacy cities. They should consider taking or supporting steps including the following:
ensuring that municipal housing codes require access to a local agent in charge, along with “owner” information, and provide for and/or more readily apply both criminal and civil penalties for code violations
encouraging full implementation of the 2020 Corporate Transparency Act, which Congress passed to make ownership information reported to the U.S. Treasury Department’s Financial Crimes Enforcement Network public, so that neglectful corporate landlords can be more easily tracked and held accountable.
Policy makers also need to remedy the structural forces that have gotten us here by increasing housing supply to meet demand, particularly at the lower end of the market; planning to preserve affordability and prevent displacement of vulnerable residents; and linking housing to community wealth-building through tools like community land trusts.
Although much uncertainty clouds our climate future, we know many millions of people will be displaced, and the assets of smaller legacy cities will make them appealing destinations. Such cities must plan for that future now by safeguarding their land and people from the private equity invasion.
Image: In Springfield, Massachusetts, and other U.S. legacy cities, institutional investors are muscling in on the real estate market. Credit: halbergman via iStock/Getty Images Plus.
Uprooted: As the Climate Crisis Forces U.S. Residents to Relocate, a New Conversation Emerges
By Alexandra Tempus, July 14, 2022
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Even though she’s expecting it, Frances Acuña screens my call. “I’ve been getting a lot of people trying to buy my house,” she explains, after calling me right back. “Sometimes I get five letters in the mail. Five, six, seven, ten calls.”
The Dove Springs neighborhood in southeast Austin, Texas, where Acuña has lived for 25 years, is just 15 minutes from downtown and right on the edge of the latest wave of gentrification. A decade ago, she says, outsiders wanted no part of the working-class community of modest ranch homes: “To them it was a ghetto area.”
Then in 2013, the waters of nearby Onion Creek—burdened by nearly 10 inches of rain in a single day—poured into the streets. Five residents died, and more than 500 homes were flooded. Two years later, another historic flood swept in. The City of Austin, which had already begun to buy out and remove homes from this low-lying area with the help of federal grants, accelerated its efforts, eventually acquiring and demolishing more than 800 homes.
Property acquired through FEMA-funded home buyout programs is legally required to remain “open in perpetuity,” allowing it to safely flood in the future. In this case, the city transformed hundreds of acres of land left behind near Dove Springs into a park. The area now boasts attractive amenities—a playground, a dog park, walking trails, and shady places to rest. These urban improvements, explicitly driven by climate adaptation policy, have made the area even more appealing to the city’s recent influx of newcomers. (With an estimated 180 new arrivals per day in 2020, Austin ranks among the country’s fastest-growing metro areas.)
But for Acuña, the park is a painful reminder of neighbors who suffered losses—and of the fact that even well-intentioned efforts to move people out of harm’s way can themselves cause harm. “To me, it’s not a happy place to go to,” Acuña says. “Maybe [new residents] don’t even know, because all they see is green space.”
As floods, wildfires, hurricanes, and other disasters escalate under the influence of climate change, experts from the Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC) to the U.S. Government Accountability Office now widely recommend that municipalities move homes and infrastructure out of hazard-prone areas to save lives and money. But how can that kind of relocation occur in a way that avoids gentrification and displacement, honors the culture and history of the original residents, encourages a shift from reactive to proactive planning, and ensures that those who relocate can find safe, affordable places to live?
These are the kinds of questions Acuña and a growing web of other community leaders, planners, researchers, agency officials, and policy makers are coming together to address as part of the national Climigration Network.
Established in 2016 by the Consensus Building Institute, the Climigration Network aims to be a central source of information and support for U.S. communities experiencing or considering relocation due to climate risks. More than 40 percent of U.S. residents, some 132 million people, live in a county that was struck by climate-related extreme weather in 2021 (Kaplan and Tran 2022). Population growth in wildfire-prone areas doubled between 1990 and 2010, and continues to rise. And FEMA counts 13 million Americans living in the 100-year flood zone, while at least one prominent study says the figure is closer to 41 million (Wing et al. 2018).
The United Nations, the World Bank, and scholars alike recognize that most climate-driven migration occurs within national borders, not across them. But in the United States, conversations about the systems needed to support climate migration have been slow to coalesce, even as climate change bears down on riverine, coastal, and other vulnerable regions. A White House report on the issue released last year marked, by its own estimation, “the first time the U.S. government is officially reporting on the link between climate change and migration” (White House 2021).
Currently, most climate-related relocation in the United States happens the way it unfolded around Dove Springs. After a disaster strikes, federal recovery money, usually through FEMA or the Department of Housing and Urban Development, is funneled to states and municipalities to buy out damaged homes. Individual homeowners sell their homes at prestorm market value to the government and move elsewhere. According to the NRDC, FEMA has funded more than 40,000 buyouts in 49 states since the 1980s.
Yet, despite federal buyout programs dating back decades, no official set of best practices or standards exists. Wait times for buyouts take five years on average. Costs for fixes and temporary housing stack up in the interim. Guidance for homeowners on navigating the buyout process is confusing or nonexistent, and relocation policies and funding focus on the individual, not on neighborhoods or communities that want to stay together.
At the local level, communities considering relocation face a range of social and financial barriers. Municipalities don’t tend to encourage relocation, because they don’t want to lose population or tax revenue. And residents—especially those reeling from a crisis—often lack the capacity and resources to find a new, safe place to live, even if they are willing to leave.
Despite those obstacles, some small towns have designed new neighborhoods and even entire new towns to relocate to. In the 1970s, a couple of Midwestern villages experiencing chronic flooding—Niobrara, Nebraska, and Soldiers Grove, Wisconsin—initiated some of the earliest community relocation projects. In the 1990s, Pattonsburg, Missouri, and Valmeyer, Illinois, among others, relocated to higher ground following the Great Flood of 1993 along the Mississippi River. As climate impacts escalate, towns and neighborhoods from the Carolinas to Alaska are developing similar plans. But knowledge sharing is rare, as is coordination that could help other communities to refine or even reimagine the process.
The Climigration Network, in partnership with the Lincoln Institute and others, is connecting climate-affected communities with one another and with professionals poised to help. One of its early concerns was how to introduce the concept of “managed retreat” as an adaptation option for communities facing substantial risk. Meant to convey strategic moves away from disaster-prone areas, the term had become common in the policy discussions that had followed hurricanes and major floods over the previous decade. Should New York City consider managed retreat from its coastline, instead of costly and potentially ineffective seawalls, after Superstorm Sandy? Should Houston, after Hurricane Harvey? Policy makers, planners, and researchers discussed these questions at length, often without input from the affected communities, which found the term and the concept alienating.
As the Climigration Network began its work, it was immediately obvious that a different kind of conversation was needed, says its director, Kristin Marcell. With funding from the Doris Duke Charitable Foundation, the network commissioned a Black and Indigenous–led creative team whose members hailed from or had worked with communities affected by the climate crisis. The team, helmed by Scott Shigeoka and Mychal Estrada, proposed reframing the discussion around the actual issues facing towns and neighborhoods that might relocate. Project leaders invited more than 40 frontline leaders to share their post-disaster experiences, and the network compensated them for that work. The result was a set of real-world insights now compiled in a guidebook for discussing climate relocation.
One clear takeaway: “managed retreat” suffers from more than bad branding. The word “managed,” community leaders made clear to the researchers, calls to mind paternalistic, top-down government programs. In Black and brown communities, it conjures not-so-distant memories of forced removal—the slave trade, the Trail of Tears, internment camps, redlining. And the concept of “retreat” left a lot of questions unanswered.
“It creates a negative narrative that people are fleeing from something, instead of working toward something else,” the researchers wrote in the guidebook. “The word communicates what we should do, but doesn’t communicate where to go or how to do it” (Climigration Network 2021).
The Climigration Network is now drawing on those insights in conversations with three community-based organizations in the Midwest, Gulf Coast, and Caribbean that are supporting locals actively weighing adaptation strategies including relocation. Partners in these conversations include the Anthropocene Alliance, a coalition of flood and other disaster survivors across the United States, and Buy-In Community Planning, a nonprofit working to improve home buyout processes.
Network members have started using more empowering alternatives to “managed retreat,” including “community-led relocation” and “supported relocation.” But the goal isn’t to come up with a single new term or a rigid plan that can be universally adopted. As Marcell notes, it can be “very offensive” when outsiders approach communities with nothing but models and templates.
“You can’t expect to build trust in a community if you don’t start with an open-ended conversation about how to approach the issue, because [each] context is so unique,” she says. Instead, the network aims to co-create, with each of the three community-based organizations, a method for identifying the specific needs and goals of each place. That includes identifying and interviewing community “influencers” and, with the help of Buy-In Community Planning, developing questions for a door-to-door survey.
“There’s a lot more individual interaction and coaching that needs to be done with people who are at the hard edge of climate change,” says Osamu Kumasaka of Buy-In Community Planning. He first came to this conclusion while working as a Consensus Building Institute mediator in Piermont, New York, in 2017. The Hudson River town was experiencing the beginnings of chronic flooding: water in basements, swamped backyard gardens, denizens wading through streets on their way to work. A wealthy small town with its own flood resilience committee and access to world-class flood risk data, Piermont nonetheless found itself uncertain about how to move forward.
“We really struggled to figure out how to squeeze all the work that needed to be done with all these homeowners into public meetings,” Kumasaka says. Each household had very specific factors influencing decisions to stay or leave: elderly parents with special needs, kids about to graduate from high school, plans to retire. Organizing surveys, small discussions, and individualized risk assessments was a more effective approach, Kumasaka says, in helping the community get a better picture of where it stands and where it wants to go.
In the end, the hope is that this type of legwork can help inform a community strategy, from identifying risk tolerance to submitting an application to a buyout program. The network and its partners hope this highly customizable approach will help communities navigate around barriers others can’t see.
Just as the Climigration Network did when gathering input from frontline leaders for its guidebook, Buy-In Community Planning compensates members of the three community organizations for their time and insights. It’s a key element of the process—helping to flip the dynamic from one in which outsiders dole out generic research and expertise into a true collaboration in which locals and professionals alike are paid to work toward a shared goal.
Relocation is an especially thorny subject in low-income, largely Black and brown communities, because residents haven’t historically been extended the same flood protections provided to those in wealthier areas. In discussions about home buyouts, as Kumasaka puts it, there tends to be a “feeling that it’s not fair to jump right to relocation.”
It’s a fair point, and represents a vicious cycle. In 2020, the FEMA National Advisory Council endorsed research findings that “the more Federal Emergency Management Agency money a county receives, the more whites’ wealth tends to grow, and the more Blacks’ wealth tends to decline, all else equal.” Because funding tends to go to larger communities better positioned to match and accept those resources, “less resource-rich, less-affluent communities cannot access funding to appropriately prepare for a disaster, leading to inadequate response and recovery, and little opportunity for mitigation. Through the entire disaster cycle, communities that have been underserved stay underserved, and thereby suffer needlessly and unjustly” (FEMA NAC 2020).
The concept of voluntary relocation remains fraught, and the Climigration Network’s three community partners preferred not to be interviewed or identified in this article. The stakes are high as this global crisis makes itself felt locally, and careful engagement can mean the difference between quite literally keeping a community together, or not.
With its focus on community voices, a project like this could signal a seismic shift in how the United States approaches climate migration, says Harriet Festing, executive director of the Anthropocene Alliance. Festing, who helped the Climigration Network build relationships with the three community organizations, which are all part of the Anthropocene Alliance network, underscores the emerging theme of this work: “Really the only people who can change that conversation [are] the victims of climate change themselves.”
Back in Austin, Frances Acuña works as an organizer with Go Austin/Vamos Austin, or GAVA, a coalition of residents and community leaders working to support healthy living and neighborhood stability in Austin’s Eastern Crescent, which includes Dove Springs. One of her roles is helping her neighbors better prepare for disaster by taking steps like getting flood insurance, dealing with insurance agents, and learning evacuation routes. She’s bagged up the mud-drenched belongings of flooded-out homeowners, brought city officials to meet with locals in her living room, and triaged emergency situations—like when an elderly couple that had been evacuated following a flood found themselves with three dogs, two cats, and nowhere to stay.
“I used to love thunder and lightning and pouring rain. It was like seeing God himself in the flesh,” Acuña says. Now, she adds, she can’t go long in a rainstorm before nervously checking out the window.
Austin’s buyout program in her area provided relocation assistance for homeowners, who had the option to reject or counter the buyout offers they received. But many did not want to leave at all, lobbying unsuccessfully for the city to implement solutions such as a flood wall or channel clearing.
Despite nearby flooding and the calls and mail from realtors and developers, Acuña has no immediate plans to leave her home. Taking part in Climigration Network conversations with other local leaders guiding their communities through floods, fires, and droughts, she says, has provided a major release: “It was a very therapeutic process, at least for me.”
In addition to the guidebook, the input from those frontline leaders—who hailed from 10 low-income, Black, and Latinx communities from Mississippi to Nebraska to Washington—powered a strong statement acknowledging the “Great American Climate Migration” and calling for the creation of a federal Climate Migration Agency “to help plan, facilitate, and support U.S. migration.”
Many of the group’s suggestions—most of which are aimed squarely at government officials—are practical, if not straightforward to execute: provide information free from jargon. Streamline the FEMA home buyout process so money no longer takes five years to land in pockets. Reduce federal grants’ local matching requirements for small, under-resourced communities.
Other recommendations tackle the larger context of racial inequity, acknowledging the findings that FEMA programs benefit wealthy homeowners more. “People here are living in tents,” says one testimonial included in the statement. “Thousands still don’t have homes after the storms. It frustrates me because I know the government has the funding and the ability to help us. The reason we can’t get the services we need is because of our zip codes.”
The statement also urges authorities to back plans that allow tight-knit communities the option to relocate together instead of sending each homeowner off individually.
It’s an option that Terri Straka of South Carolina would appreciate. Like Acuña, she’s an active leader in her community who has participated in Climigration Network conversations and joined the call for a new climate migration office. She’s lived in Rosewood Estates, a blue-collar neighborhood in Socastee, South Carolina, on the Intracoastal Waterway outside of Myrtle Beach, for nearly 30 years. For a long time, flooding wasn’t an issue, but in recent years, that changed: since 2016, Straka’s county has weathered at least 10 hurricanes and tropical storms. Average national flood insurance payouts there have increased fivefold in less than a decade, from a little less than $14,000 to just under $70,000. In the most recent flood, Straka’s 1,300-square-foot ranch took on four feet of water, which didn’t drain for two weeks.
“It’s nothing fabulous, but it’s home,” Straka says. “I raised all my children in it. I know everyone.” Her parents live in the neighborhood. Local high schoolers use the streets for driving school practice. “I’ve watched so many kids grow up.”
These days, she says, “they call me Terri Jean the Rosewood Queen.” It’s a name she’s earned following the neighborhood floods, as she advocated for her neighbors in visits to local FEMA and county housing offices, made phone calls to state recovery officials, and staged protests at county council meetings. Many of her neighbors would have moved after the first couple of floods if they’d been able to, Straka says. She and others pushed for a buyout program, but the federally funded offers were less than adequate by the time they came through in 2021; community members continue to push for better offers. A lot of her neighbors are service industry workers in Myrtle Beach’s robust tourism trade. Others have retired on a fixed income. Many had already sunk money into repairing their homes. For others, buyouts would only pay off their current mortgages, falling far short of the amount needed to purchase comparable new homes, to say nothing of flood insurance.
“You live on the outskirts of Myrtle Beach itself because, number one, you can’t afford to live in Myrtle Beach,” Straka says. “Even if you have the option, if the buyout would be financially beneficial, where do you go? And how do you do that?”
The Climigration Network and its partners are coming at these questions from several directions. The three community organizations now working with the network are on track to conduct their surveys and use the results to begin developing local strategies this summer. The network hopes to create a small grant program that could fund similar work in other communities. Meanwhile, members have formed six workgroups of technical experts and community leaders, with focus areas ranging from policy and research to narrative building and communications, that meet regularly to discuss how to identify and help dismantle the many roadblocks communities face. Taken together, these efforts are an attempt to lay the foundation for a whole new field of climate adaptation.
“Not everyone is trying to go out in the field and build a system for helping 13 million people move in the next 50 years,” says Kelly Leilani Main, executive director of Buy-In Community Planning, chair of the Climigration Network’s Ecosystems and People workgroup, and a member of its Interim Council. “We’re building the bridge as we’re walking across it.”
Doing so, Main and other network members agree, will require continuing to build trust and deep working relationships with residents on the ground. Like Acuña, Straka says that sharing the story of her own experiences with others in the Climigration Network has been a critical first step. “When we would have meetings, I was completely honest,” Straka says. “And they gave you that capability to be vulnerable, because you are vulnerable.”
The whole process was far removed from her experiences hitting walls with state and federal officials, she adds. The officials she’s dealt with “don’t get it. It’s a job to them, they go to work, they’ve got these projects to do,” she says. “The involvement on a personal level is what’s going to bring big change. That’s what’s needed.”
Alexandra Tempus is writing a book on America’s Great Climate Migration for St. Martin’s Press.
Lead image: Frances Acuña walks through a detention pond area designed to help protect her Austin, Texas, neighborhood from flooding. Credit:Austin American-Statesman/USA TODAY Network.
FEMA NAC. 2020. “National Advisory Council Report to the Administrator.” November. Washington, DC: Federal Emergency Management Agency.
Kaplan, Sarah, and Andrew Ba Tran. 2022. “More Than 40 Percent of Americans Live in Counties Hit by Climate Disasters in 2021.” The Washington Post. January 5.
White House. 2021. “Report on the Impact of Climate Change on Migration.” October. Washington, DC: The White House.
Wing, Oliver E.J., and Paul D. Bates, Andrew M. Smith, Christopher C. Sampson, Kris A. Johnson, Joseph Fargione, and Philip Morefield. 2018. “Estimates of Current and Future Flood Risk in the Conterminous United States.” Environmental Research Letters 13(3). February.
Course
2022 Housing Solutions Workshop
October 3, 2022 - October 20, 2022
Online
Free, offered in English
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*The application deadline for the Housing Solutions Workshop has been extended until August 26th.
The lack of affordable, quality housing is a major threat to the quality of life and economic competitiveness of many of the nation’s small and midsize cities. The Housing Solutions Workshop is designed to help localities develop comprehensive and balanced housing strategies to better address affordability and other housing challenges.
Overview
Four to five cities or counties with populations between 50,000 and 500,000 will be selected to attend the Housing Solutions Workshop, which has been developed by the NYU Furman Center’s Housing Solutions Lab, Abt Associates, and the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy. Each delegation will consist of five to six members, including senior leaders from different departments and agencies in local government, and external partners that are essential to the city’s housing strategy.
The workshop is intended for cities or counties that are in the early stages of developing a comprehensive and balanced local housing strategy. Participants will:
Share local housing challenges and policies with other participating localities and Housing Solutions Lab facilitators to obtain feedback
Participate in small group discussions with peer jurisdictions to share ideas for how to optimize policy toolkits
Identify options for strengthening local housing strategies and improving coordination across departments and agencies
Learn about ways to use data to assess housing needs and track progress
Refine ways to engage the community to address housing challenges and advance equity
There is no cost to cities or counties for participation in the Workshop.
Course Format
The Housing Solutions Workshop will include six 90-to-120-minute virtual training sessions to be held from October 3 to October 20, 2022, as well as one individual session for each delegation to collaborate with Workshop facilitators. Live online sessions will include a combination of group discussions and workshops designed to facilitate sharing among participating localities and to refine localities’ housing strategies. Outside of these sessions, participants are expected to complete assigned readings and watch short videos. In addition, individual sessions will be held with each delegation and Housing Solutions Lab facilitators to discuss a topic or topics specific to the delegation’s housing goals.
Housing, Inequality, Local Government, Planning, Zoning
New Compendium Details How 60 Countries Use Land Value Capture to Fund Infrastructure
By Lincoln Institute Staff, July 5, 2022
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Across every region of the world, countries of all sizes have demonstrated that land value capture is an effective tool for financing infrastructure, affordable housing, and other public goods using the land value generated by the public sector’s own actions, according to a new publication from the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) and the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.
The Global Compendium of Land Value Capture Policies is the most comprehensive profile of land value capture published to date. The publication identifies five major land value capture instruments and shows how they have been implemented in all 38 OECD countries and 22 additional countries. It draws on deep expertise from the two organizations and the German Corporation for International Cooperation (GIZ), as well as surveys that shed light on the legal frameworks and policy issues in all 60 countries.
“This compendium will provide policy makers with a unique resource as they develop ambitious plans to make cities more livable and sustainable,” Lamia Kamal-Chaoui, director of the OECD Centre for Entrepreneurship, SMEs, Regions and Cities, and George W. McCarthy, president and CEO of the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy, write in the publication’s preface. “It reveals the huge potential for land value capture to unlock important new infrastructure and land uses: from social housing to transport, from water to energy.”
The five main land value capture instruments identified in the compendium are infrastructure levies, developer obligations, charges for development rights, land readjustment, and strategic land management. These instruments vary greatly in their design, but they all enable the public sector to recover and reinvest land value generated by two main types of activity—the creation of infrastructure, and enactment or amendment of regulations that govern land use. Often, these two types of activity occur in tandem—e.g., a rezoning that accompanies the construction of a new rail station.
The compendium explores how governments use value capture instruments in different contexts. For example, it explains how large municipalities in Brazil have implemented charges for development rights as part of the master planning process. Developers pay the charges for the right to build at higher density, often in districts where the municipality is also investing in infrastructure and redevelopment.
The publication explains the constitutional, legal, and administrative frameworks for land value capture, and identifies different methods for land valuation—a critical component of each instrument. It explores common challenges and considerations for policy makers who implement land value capture. Finally, it includes a detailed profile of each country.
Policy makers who seek to implement land value capture in their jurisdictions can use the compendium as a guide, and scholars can use it as a platform to conduct more detailed research. It will be followed by the creation of a searchable database with additional details for each country.