The fast pace of farmland conversion in the People’s Republic of China is causing alarm among top leaders concerned with food security and China’s ability to remain self-reliant in crop production. This loss of farmland is a direct result of China’s remarkable success in economic development over the past two decades, which has resulted in rapid urbanization and the conversion of enormous amounts of farmland into residential, industrial, commercial, infrastructure and institutional uses. Nearly a decade ago, Lester Brown asked, “Who Will Feed China?” in a book that drew attention to the importance of farmland preservation.

At first glance, visitors to China may not realize there is any problem with food supply or farmland protection because food seems to be abundant. Moreover, concern over China’s acute housing shortage has prompted many economists to prefer a policy that makes more farmland available for housing. Their arguments may be sound in theory. When one looks deeply at China’s land resources and projected growth, however, it becomes easier to understand the rationale for the country’s rigorous efforts to preserve its declining supply of farmland and recognize the farm-related issues and policy challenges that can be expected in the foreseeable future.

Tensions between Land and People

A map of China gives the false impression that land is abundant. Even though the total land mass of China is similar to that of the United States (9.6 and 9.4 million square kilometers, respectively), land suitable for human habitation in China is limited. About one-fifth of China’s territory is covered by deserts, glaciers and snow. Areas that average more than 2,000 meters above sea level and mountainous regions each account for one-third of China’s land, indicating a high level of land fragmentation. Thus, less than one-third of China’s land area is composed of the plains and basins where more than 60 percent of the population of 1.3 billion lives. There are fewer farms in China per capita than in almost any other country. China’s rate of per capita farmland occupation is 0.26–0.30 acre (depending on which official data are used), less than 43 percent of the world average. It is a staggering accomplishment that China is able to feed 20 percent of the world’s population with only 7 percent of the world’s farmland.

The relationship between the Chinese people and their land is further complicated by the uneven distribution of the population. The eastern part of China represents 48 percent of the nation’s territory, but includes 86 percent of China’s total farmland and nearly 94 percent of its population. By contrast, the western provinces feature vast and mostly unusable land. Henan Province, located near the center of China, has the nation’s highest population density. Henan is only one-sixtieth the size of the U.S., but its population is more than one-third of the U.S. population.

This east-west division also reflects striking differences in farmland productivity. In the east, farms generally reach their maximum potential yield, whereas farm productivity in the west is low, and it is difficult and expensive to improve productivity there. More than 60 percent of China’s farms have no irrigation systems, and most of those farms are located in the west. Regions with more than 80 percent of the nation’s water resources have less than 38 percent of the farmland. Around 30 percent of all farmland suffers from soil erosion, and more than 40 percent of farmland in arid and semi-arid regions is in danger of turning into desert.

It seems inevitable that the tensions between the Chinese people and the use of their land will only escalate in the next decade or two, driven in large part by the ambitious socioeconomic development goals set up by the Sixteenth Communist Party Congress in 2003. Those goals call for China’s GDP to be quadrupled and the rate of urbanization to reach 55 percent by 2020. Given the projected population growth from 1.3 billion to 1.6 billion, Chinese cities will become home to 200 to 350 million new urban residents. This remarkable increase in development will require land for all kinds of human needs: economic development, housing, urban services and so forth.

Farmland Preservation Laws

Two principal laws govern farmland preservation efforts in China. The Basic Farmland Protection Regulation, passed in 1994, requires the designation of basic farmland protection districts at the township level and prohibits any conversion of land in those districts to other uses. It also requires that a quota of farmland preservation should be determined first and then allocated into lower-level governments in the five-level administrative chains (the state, province, city, county and township). This important act represents the first time China has imposed a so-called zero net loss of farmland policy. This policy affects only basic farmland, so the total amount of basic farmland will not decline due to urbanization.

Components of Basic Farmland

• Agricultural production areas (such as crops, cotton, edible oils and other high-quality agricultural products) approved by governments
• Farmland with high productivity and good irrigation that have been exploited
• Vegetation production areas for large and mid-sized cities
• Experimental fields for science and educational purposes

There are two kinds of basic farmland protection districts. The first level consists of high-quality farmland with high productivity that cannot be converted to nonagricultural uses. The second level is good-quality farmland with moderate productivity that can be converted to nonagricultural uses, usually after a planned period of five to 10 years. The regulation further stipulates (1) if the conversion of land within farmland districts is unavoidable in order to build national projects, such as highways, energy production or transportation, the state must approve the conversion of land parcels of more than 82.4 acres and the provincial governments must approve those of less than 82.4 acres; and (2) the same amount of farmland lost to conversion must be replaced by new farmland somewhere else.

The second law, the 1999 New Land Administration Law, is intended to protect environmentally sensitive and agricultural lands, promote market development, encourage citizen involvement in the legislative process, and coordinate the planning and development of urban land. The law has two important clauses. Article 33 extends the application of the zero net loss farmland policy in the Basic Farmland Protection Regulation to all farmland. It stipulates that “People’s governments . . . should strictly implement the overall plans and annual plans for land utilization and take measures to ensure that the total amount of cultivated land within their administrative areas remains unreduced.” Article 34 requires that basic farmland shall not be less than 80 percent of the total cultivated land in provinces, autonomous regions and municipalities directly under the central government.

The law reinforces farmland preservation efforts by requiring approval from the State Council for any conversion of basic farmland; conversion of other farmland larger than 86.5 acres; and conversion of other land larger than 173 acres. It further encourages land development in areas that are considered wasteland or that feature low soil productivity. Although the law requires the zero net loss of farmland policy to be implemented at provincial levels, it is actually carried out at the city, county and sometimes township levels.

Assessment of the Farmland Policy

The goals of the farmland preservation laws are to limit development on farmland and to preserve as much existing farmland as possible. Land development patterns and urban encroachment into farmland continue unabated, however. Approximately 470,000, 428,000 and 510,000 acres were converted to urban uses in 1997, 1998 and 1999 respectively, and in 2001–2002 some 1.32 percent of remaining farmland was lost. The actual rate of farmland loss was probably far greater than those officially released numbers. For example, seven administrative units at the provincial level (Beijing, Shanghai, Guangdong, Hunan, Congqing, Jiangxi and Yunnan) reported net farmland losses in 1999.

On closer inspection, the negative impacts of China’s farmland preservation laws may outweigh the gains. These laws have been questioned because they affect other actions that create urban sprawl and the merging of villages and cities; destroy contiguity of urban areas; raise transportation costs; and impose high social costs resulting from clustering of incompatible land uses. More important, they push economic activities into locations that may not provide any locational advantage and adversely affect urban agglomeration, which ultimately affects the competitiveness of the local economy.

The designation of basic farmland is based primarily on the quality of soil productivity; location is not a factor. Because existing development has occurred near historically high-productivity areas, that land is likely to be designated as basic farmland whereas land farther away is not. New development thus results in leapfrogging development and urban sprawl and raises transportation costs, but also creates mixed land use patterns in which villages are absorbed within cities and cities are imposed on villages. These patterns are common in regions with high population density and fast growth rates, such as the Pearl Delta of Guangdong Province. The mixed village and city pattern aggravates an already underfunctioning urban agglomeration that results from a relatively high level of immobility in the population because of the hukou system, which gives residents access to certain heavily subsidized local amenities, such as schools.

By using soil productivity as the criterion for designating basic farmland, site selection for economic development projects becomes constrained, making business less competitive. This policy is also responsible for the ad hoc land development process and the creation of a chaotic and uncoordinated land development pattern. As a result, existing infrastructure use becomes less efficient and it costs more for local government to provide urban services. Overall, the urban economy is hurt.

Furthermore, developers have to pay high land prices, which they eventually pass on to consumers through higher housing prices or commercial rents. Land becomes more expensive because the law requires developers who wish to build on basic farmland to either identify or develop the same amount of farmland elsewhere, or pay someone to do so. The cost of this process will rise exponentially as the amount of land available for farmland is depleted, making housing even less affordable. In Beijing, for instance, land costs alone account for 30–40 percent of total development costs if a project is developed on farmland, but 60–70 percent if the project is developed in existing urban areas.

Perhaps one of the worst aspects of the farmland preservation laws is that they treat farmers unfairly. Land development is far more lucrative than farming, so farmers rigorously pursue real estate projects. In the early 1990s, for example, selling land use rights to developers could generate incomes that were 200–300 times higher than the annual yields from farm production. Farmers and village communes, eager to benefit from booming urban land markets, are lured to develop their farmland. The problem is that farmers whose land is considered basic farmland are penalized by this institutional designation that denies them access to urban land markets, even if their farms may enjoy a location advantage. Farmers from areas not designated as basic farmland are not similarly constrained. This inequitable treatment makes it difficult for local governments to implement effective land management tools and creates social tensions that complicate the land acquisition process, lead to chaotic and uncoordinated development, and encourage the development of hidden or informal land markets.

There are four reasons for the general failure of China’s farmland preservation policy. First, farmland preservation laws fail to give sufficient consideration to regional differences. Even at a provincial level some governments have difficulty maintaining a constant amount of farmland in the face of rapid urbanization. Land resources are extremely scarce in some provincial units, such as Beijing, Shanghai and Zhejiang, where development pressures are strong.

The second reason is the requirement that each of the five administrative levels of government (the state, provinces, municipalities, countries and townships) must maintain an arbitrarily determined percentage (80 percent) of basic farmland without the ability to adjust to pressures of demand and market prices. In some regions, demand is so high that officials look for various alternative ways to convert farmland into urban uses. The most common approach is through establishment of industrial parks, economic development zones or high-tech districts, usually on quality farmland areas at the urban fringe. This occurs for two reasons: to attract businesses and to raise land revenues by leasing acquired farmland to developers. There is a striking difference between the prices paid to farmers for their land and the prices for that same land when sold to developers.

Third, local officials almost always give economic development projects top priority and are easily tempted to sacrifice farmland or rural development to achieve a rapid rate of economic growth. As a result, farmland preservation efforts are doomed to fail wherever development pressure is present. This is not surprising since the farmland preservation laws fail to employ any price mechanisms or provide any financial incentives for either local governments or individual farmers to protect farmland.

The fourth problem is the absence of land markets or land rights in rural areas where Chinese governments tend to rely solely on their administrative power to preserve farmland but ignore emerging market forces in determining uses of resources.

Policy Challenges

In recognition of the importance of food security to China and the pressure of urban development on land supply, the Lincoln Institute is collaborating with the Ministry of Land and Resources on a project called Farmland Preservation in the Era of Rapid Urbanization. The objective of the project is to engage Chinese officials in evaluating this complicated issue and to design and implement farmland preservation plans that recognize regional differences and development pressures, and that introduce price mechanisms and respect for farmers’ rights.

First, three fundamental questions need to be addressed:

• Would a policy to have zero net loss of farmland on a regional basis be better than separate policies in each of the five administrative levels of government, as is currently the case? If so, how are regions to be defined and how can Chinese officials make a regionwide policy work?
• Is it better to have a policy of zero net loss of farmland productivity or a policy of zero net loss of land used for farming? If the former, how can such a policy on productivity be implemented?
• How can farmland be preserved within the context of emerging land markets in rural areas and within a new institutional framework in which the rights of farmers are recognized?

For those interested in land use policies, few countries in the world offer as many dynamic and challenging issues as China. Engagement and dialogue between Chinese and American scholars, practitioners and public officials on these topics will be crucial to the final outcome.

Chengri Ding is associate professor in the Urban Studies and Planning Department at the University of Maryland and director of the Joint China Land Policy and Urban Management Program of the University of Maryland and the Lincoln Institute.

Reference

Brown, Lester R. 1995. Who will feed China?: Wake-up call for a small planet. Washington, DC: Worldwatch Institute.

Governments have long recognized the need to preserve certain open space lands because of their importance in producing public goods and services such as food, fiber, recreation and natural hazard mitigation, or because they possess important geological or biological features.

New impetus for open space preservation results from the desire to counteract the effects of declining urban cores, suburban sprawl, and the socioeconomic and land use changes now encroaching on high-amenity rural areas. The growing use of habitat conservation plans for reconciling environmental and economic objectives also draws attention to the values of open space, especially in comparison to alternative land uses.

It is likely that most decisions about open space preservation will be made at the local level, due in part to the general trend of devolution of governmental responsibility (with accompanying fiscal responsibility), as well as an increase in the institutional capacity and activism of local land conservation trusts. Since local governments are heavily dependent on the property tax for operating revenue, the fiscal and economic implications of open space preservation decisions are paramount. Conservationists are frequently called upon to demonstrate to local communities the economic value of preserving open space.

While much has been written about the economic value of the environment in general and of open space in particular, the literature is segregated by discipline or methodology. It is therefore difficult to assess the economic value of open space comprehensively. It is even more difficult to apply what is known in a public policy context, where open space holds significant non-monetary value.

Concepts of Value and Public Goods

Like all natural ecosystems, open space provides a variety of functions that satisfy human needs. However, attempting to assign monetary values to these functions presents several challenges. First, open space typically provides several functions simultaneously. Second, different types of value are measured by different methodologies and expressed in different units. Converting to a standard unit (such as dollars) involves subjective judgments and is not always feasible. Third, values are often not additive, and “double counting” is an ever-present problem. Finally, some would argue that it is morally wrong to try to value something that is by definition invaluable. At a minimum, they say, open space will always possess intangible values that are above and beyond any calculation of monetary values.

Open space often plays an important role in the provision of “public goods.” Public goods are nonexcludable: once they are produced it is impossible or very costly to exclude anyone from using them. They are also nonconsumptive: one person’s enjoyment of the good does not diminish its availability for others. The limited ability of producers to exclude potential users typically precludes the development of market allocation systems for public goods. As a result, easily observed measures of value, like those expressed through market prices, do not exist. Yet land use and resource management decisions imply tradeoffs between marketed and non-marketed goods and services, making it difficult to compare relative values and, through tradeoffs, arrive at socially optimal decisions.

Use and Nonuse Values

Much of the economic value associated with open space activities like recreation can be examined as use value and nonuse value. Use value results from current use of the resource, including consumptive uses (i.e., hunting and fishing), nonconsumptive uses (i.e., hiking, camping, boating and nature photography) and indirect uses (i.e., reading books or watching televised programs about wildlife).

Activities directly or indirectly associated with open space may provide an important source of revenue for businesses and state and local governments. For example, hunting and fishing license fees are a major source of funding for state wildlife agencies. Less direct but perhaps more important from an overall economic perspective are expenditures related to nonconsumptive open space activities that also have income and job multiplier effects and often occur in rural areas with limited commercial potential.

The economic implications of use and nonuse values across society can be very large, and many economists agree that these values should be considered in open space decisionmaking. Measuring use and nonuse values is difficult, however, due to the lack of markets and market prices and the existence of administratively set, quasi-market prices such as hunting and fishing license fees. To arrive at socially meaningful estimates of value for many nonmarket resources, economists use the concept of consumer surplus, or the amount above actual market price that a buyer would theoretically be willing to pay to enjoy a good or service.

Two methods are used to first estimate the demand curve for the resource: contingent valuation or travel cost methods. In the first, a hypothetical market is created in a survey and respondents are asked what they would be willing to pay for some defined activity or resource. In the second, the cost of travel to a site is viewed as an entry or admission price, and a demand curve is derived from observing visitation from various origins with different travel costs. While still controversial, these methods have been used in numerous studies to estimate the willingness to pay in addition to actual expenses for various recreational activities ( see chart 1), as well as for nonuse values such as maintaining populations of certain endangered species or preserving unique bird habitats.

Several types of nonuse values consider the possibility for future use. Option value represents an individual’s willingness to pay to maintain the option of utilizing a resource in the future. Existence value represents an individual’s willingness to pay to ensure that some resource exists, which may be motivated by the desire to bequest the resource to future generations.

Measuring the Economic Value of Open Space

As a result of decreased intergovernmental transfers of financial aid and increasing citizen resistance to taxes, local officials now scrutinize the fiscal consequences of land use decisions more than ever before. The primary analytic tool available to policymakers for this purpose is fiscal impact analysis, a formal comparison of the public costs and revenues associated with growth within a particular local governmental unit. Fiscal impact analysis is utilized frequently in large communities experiencing growth pressures on the metropolitan fringe, and it is being applied to open space preservation.

A review of fiscal impact studies by Robert Burchell and David Listokin concludes that generally residential development does not pay its own way. They found that nonresidential development does pay for itself, but is a magnet for residential development, and that open space falls at the break-even point. A study of eleven towns by the Southern New England Forest Consortium shows that on a strictly financial basis the cost of providing public services is more than twice as high for residential development as for commercial development or open space. (see chart 2)

Care must be taken when evaluating the results of fiscal impact analyses for several reasons: the choices of methodology and assumptions greatly influence the findings; specific circumstances vary quite widely from community to community; and fiscal impact analyses do not address secondary or long-term impacts. Nevertheless, fiscal impact analysis is a powerful and increasingly sophisticated planning tool for making decisions about land use alternatives at the community level.

The most direct measure of the economic value of open space is its real estate market value: the cash price that an informed and willing buyer pays an informed and willing seller in an open and competitive market. In rural areas, where highest and best use of land (i.e., most profitable use) is as open space, one can examine market transactions. In urban or urbanizing regions, however, where highest and best use (as determined by the market) has usually been development, the open space value of land must be separated from its development value, especially when land is placed under a conservation easement.

Open space may also affect the surrounding land market, creating an enhancement value. Casual observers find evidence of enhancement value in real estate advertisements that feature proximity to open space amenities, and it is explicitly recognized by federal income tax law governing the valuation of conservation easements. A number of empirical studies have shown that proximity to preserved open space enhances property values, particularly if the open space is not intensively developed for recreation purposes and if it is carefully integrated with the neighborhood. Enhancement value is important to the local property tax base because it offsets the effects of open space, which is usually tax-exempt or taxed at a low rate.

Open space possesses natural system value when it provides direct benefits to human society through such processes as ground water storage, climate moderation, flood control, storm damage prevention, and air and water pollution abatement. It is possible to assign a monetary value to such benefits by calculating the cost of the damages that would result if the benefits were not provided, or if public expenditures were required to build infrastructure to replace the functions of the natural systems.

An example of this approach is the Charles River Basin in Massachusetts, where 8,500 acres of wetlands were acquired and preserved as a natural valley storage area for flood control for a cost of $10 million. An alternative proposal to construct dams and levees to accomplish the same goal would have cost $100 million. In another study, the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources calculated that the cost of replacing the natural floodwater storage function of wetlands would be $300 per acre foot.

Lands valued for open space are seldom idle, but rather are part of a working landscape vital to the production of goods and services that are valued and exchanged in markets. Often, the production value resulting from these lands is direct and readily measured, as is the case in crops from farms and orchards, animal products from pasture and grazing lands, and wood products from forests. The economic returns from production accrue directly to the landowner and often determine current and future land use alternatives.

Open space lands may also play a less direct but nonetheless important production role for market-valued goods that depend in part on functions provided by private lands. Examples are the role of privately owned wetlands in fish and shellfish production and the role of private lands in supplying habitat for wild game. In addition to providing market-valued goods and services, direct and indirect production from open space lands supports jobs that are valuable to local, regional and national economies.

Conclusions

It will never be possible to calculate completely the economic value of open space, nor should it be. Certain intangible values lose significance when attempts are made to quantify them. Indeed, to incorporate into the real estate market the public values of open space without also developing a means of capturing those values for the public benefit would be counterproductive for conservation purposes.

Land use decisions ranging from the allocation of scarce conservation budgets to the property rights debate will be better informed if there is a more comprehensive understanding of the economic value of open space. Methods for determining and comparing value vary widely in level of sophistication and reliability. Some are based on long-established professional standards, while others continue to evolve. Given the inherent subjectivity of the term, any discussion of value must include a variety of disciplines, methodologies and approaches. The greatest benefit may be in prompting reassessment of the “conventional wisdom” about the economic consequences of development and conservation.

Charles J. Fausold is a fellow at the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy. Robert J. Lilieholm is an associate professor at Utah State University and a former visiting fellow at the Lincoln Institute. With partial support from the Boston Foundation Fund for the Preservation of Wildlife and Natural Areas they are reviewing and synthesizing existing information to develop a useful framework for considering the economic value of open space.

Boulder, Colorado, has developed a national reputation for having dealt creatively with growth management issues. The city has developed a 27,000-acre greenbelt, a system for controlling the rate of population growth by limiting building permits, and a defined urban growth boundary managed in cooperation with Boulder County. Boulder’s approach to urban growth boundaries, called the service area concept, offers important lessons for controlling sprawl, preserving rural land uses outside the city, and extending urban services in a rational manner.

Located 27 miles northwest of Denver at the base of the Rocky Mountains, Boulder is a home-rule city of approximately 96,000 people. It is the Boulder County seat, the home of the University of Colorado, and a regional employment center with approximately 86,000 jobs. Its strong economy is founded on the university, federal laboratories, regional and local retail, and a dynamic industrial sector concentrated in the high tech industry and business services.

Colorado has no statewide, mandated planning program. Statutory and home-rule cities and counties are granted land use planning and regulatory powers directly by the state. The Denver Regional Council of Governments engages in general planning, clearinghouse, and federal funding allocation activities, but there is no real, effective regional planning effort. As a result, sprawling development, undifferentiated between cities and unincorporated areas of counties, is typical along most of Colorado’s Front Range.

In the decade of the 1950s, Boulder’s population grew from 25,000 to 37,000 and during the 1960s it grew by a whopping 29,000 to reach 66,000. Some initial efforts to manage this growth included the “Blue Line,” a citizen-initiated amendment to Boulder’s charter in 1959 that restricted the extension of city water service above an elevation of 5,750 feet. It was later extended by ordinance to sewer service. While a few exceptions have been granted at the ballot box, the effect of this measure was to limit the city from extending water service to properties along the mountain backdrop. Property owners can still develop in the county, but at much lower densities than is typical in the city and only with individual water and septic systems.

Another important growth management program began in 1967, when Boulder became the first city in the United States to pass a tax specifically dedicated to preserve open space. This open space system forms the outer extent of the Boulder Valley, a joint planning area between the city and county.

Boulder’s Service Area Concept

A concern that unwanted development was continuing to take place outside city limits in the county, sometimes with city water and sewer service, led to the implementation of Boulder’s urban growth boundary. In 1970 the city and county adopted a joint comprehensive plan that defined the intended geographic extent of city expansion into the plains. This plan was further refined in 1978 to limit the city from extending water and sewer services outside city service area boundaries and to limit the county from approving new subdivisions that would need “urban” levels of services and facilities.

What specifically does the service area boundary do? It defines that part of the Boulder Valley planning area where the City of Boulder either already provides a full range of urban services to annexed properties or will provide services upon annexation. Land outside the service area boundary remains in the county at rural densities until the city and county jointly agree to bring the property into the service area. Land can also be “moved” out of the service area.

The 1978 plan, thus, protected the city against development just outside its boundaries that would put demands on city services without the ability to collect taxes to finance those services. It was also aimed at controlling sprawl, protecting sensitive environmental areas and rural land uses, and planning, financing and providing urban services in a more rational way. By adopting the plan through an intergovernmental agreement, both the city and county gained better control over urban development and service provision, while accomplishing many other conservation objectives. This approach owes much to the phased growth control ordinance pioneered in 1969 by the Township of Ramapo, New York.

What Are the Benefits?

• The service area concept creates an identifiable urban/rural edge. Unlike many cities that have either sprawled into the countryside or facilitated leapfrog development, Boulder has created a real edge between urban and rural development.
• It provides for the rational extension of urban services. The definition of areas where services are to be provided (along with initial designations of land use) allows a direct link between land use planning and infrastructure planning. Parks, recreation, police, fire, transportation, water, sewer and flood control service providers can develop their master plans knowing where services are to be extended, over what time frame, and for what types of land uses.
• It helps preserve rural lands outside the city. Boulder’s service area policy has sent a clear signal to the land markets that land outside of Boulder’s service area is not likely to be urbanized in the near future. This has lessened land speculation for urban development purposes and facilitated the acquisition of open space.
• It helps focus development within the city. Through redevelopment of underutilized areas and infill development, the city has been able to capitalize on existing public investments in infrastructure.
• It eliminates competition from the county for retail development and the loss of associated tax revenues.
• It provides both flexibility and certainty to the planning process. As the community experiences change over time, land can be added to or deleted from the service area, and property owners inside and outside the service area can act accordingly.

What Are the Pitfalls?

• Boulder’s region encompasses the whole county. Therefore, the city’s surging job growth and limitations on residential growth have had a significant impact on housing demand in adjoining communities. The most striking example is the nearby town of Superior. In 1990 the population of Superior was 255; in 1996 it was 3,377. It has practically no jobs and no sales tax base. This regional imbalance between jobs and housing has created tremendous problems with traffic congestion, lack of affordable housing and school facility needs.
• Getting a hold on sprawl is only half the equation. What happens within the urban service area is the other. In Boulder’s initial planning efforts, there was a clear expression of a preference for infill and redevelopment over sprawl. Since there is no requirement that a certain amount of land be contained within its service area (such as the 20-year required land supply within Oregon’s urban growth boundaries), Boulder does not have to make a trade-off between expansion versus infill and redevelopment. However, it is increasingly difficult to convince specific neighborhoods and the community as a whole that additional density is in their best interests. The community can choose to not expand the service area, maintain current densities and simply not grow.

Is that good or bad? On the good side, it has allowed Boulder to determine its own ideal city size, with consideration of how much congestion is tolerable, what sized city leads to a high quality of life, and what is sustainable over time. On the bad size, it holds Boulder back from capturing some of the benefits that additional development could bring, such as more affordable housing and less dependence on the automobile by building mixed use, transit-oriented neighborhood centers.

There is no real ending to this story. Land use planning is a major fixation for Boulder, and these issues are continuously analyzed, discussed, and often hotly debated. Nevertheless, Boulder has maintained a central vision of a compact city with a clear identity in the midst of a rural area. The growth management techniques used in Boulder may vary from those used by other cities, and they may be changed from time to time to meet local conditions, but the vision has remained intact.

Peter Pollock, AICP, is the director of the Community Planning Division for the City of Boulder, Colorado. This year he is a Loeb Fellow at the Harvard University Graduate School of Design and a visiting fellow at the Lincoln Institute. This article is based in part on his presentation of the Fourth Annual David R. Fullmer Lecture, “Tools and Techniques for Managing Growth in the Boulder Region,” at the Institute in October 1997.

High land costs are an obstacle to developing and securing affordable housing for lower-income families. One way to address this issue is to purchase a house without the land, and a community land trust is one mechanism that allows this arrangement. This article reports on a roundtable attended by researchers, policy analysts, technical assistance providers, funders, and community land trust staff members to discuss the community land trust model and related research needs.

The community land trust model is an extremely attractive mechanism for maintaining and expanding the stock of affordable housing. Currently there are approximately 160 community land trusts operating in every region of the country. These community land trusts are nonprofit, community-based organizations whose mission is to provide affordable housing in perpetuity by owning land and leasing it to those who live in houses built on that land. In the classic community land trust model, membership is comprised of those who live in the leased housing (leaseholders); those who live in the targeted area (community members); and local representatives from government, funding agencies and the nonprofit sector (public interest) (Burlington Associates 2003).

A lease within a community land trust also includes a resale formula intended to balance the interests of present homeowners with the long-term goals of the community land trust—balancing the interest of homeowners and the interest of the community land trust to provide affordable housing for future homeowners.

This article addresses some of the questions surrounding the community land trust model;

• Do community land trusts provide long-term affordable housing?
• Do community land trusts contribute to individual asset building?
• How effective are public and nonprofit sector funds when used to produce community land trust housing?
• Do community land trusts provide access to urban services and/or regional opportunities for leaseholders?
• Do community land trusts contribute to community building?
• Why have some community land trusts excelled and others failed?

This article also examine the Sawmill Community Land Trust, located near downtown Albuquerque, New Mexico. In partnership with the City of Albuquerque, Sawmill Community Land Trust’s has created a permanent stock of affordable housing in the neighborhood with housing units as well as a plaza, park, community center, commercial space and open space connected with trails. The plan calls for expanding the Sawmill Community Land Trust model to other neighborhoods to ensure a permanent stock of affordable housing and a mixed-income community for the long term.

For many households experiencing lagging wages or underemployment, the purchase and financing of a house is increasingly difficult. High land costs are another obstacle to developing and securing affordable housing for lower-income families in some markets. One way to address this second issue is to purchase a house without the land, and a community land trust (CLT) is one mechanism that allows this arrangement. This article reports on a roundtable attended by approximately 25 researchers, policy analysts, technical assistance providers, funders and CLT staff members to discuss the CLT model and related research needs. The December 2004 program was sponsored by the Lincoln Institute in partnership with the Institute for Community Economics (ICE), based in Springfield, Massachusetts.

What are community land trusts and How Do They Function?

The community land trust model has evolved in the United States over the last 40 years (ICE 1991). Currently there are approximately 160 CLTs operating in every region of the country and in 38 out of the 50 states and the District of Columbia. These CLTs are nonprofit, community-based organizations whose mission is to provide affordable housing in perpetuity by owning land and leasing it to those who live in houses built on that land. Complementing their status as nonprofit corporations, as defined in the U.S. tax code, and their formal rights and responsibilities codified in the ground lease, CLTs are governed by a board of directors with membership from the community. In the classic CLT model, membership is comprised of adults who live in the leased housing (leaseholders); adults who live in the targeted area (community members); and local representatives from government, funding agencies and the nonprofit sector (public interest) (Burlington Associates 2003).

The community land trust and the homeowner agree to a long-term ground lease agreement (typically 99 years) that spells out the rights and responsibilities of both parties. Among the homeowner’s rights are the rights to privacy, the exclusive use of the property, and the right to bequeath the property and the lease. The CLT has the right to purchase the house when and if the owner wants to sell.

The community land trust’s abiding interest, as the landowner, as the party with the option to purchase the improvement, and as a community-based organization, is to maintain a stake in the relationship long after the original house purchase and lease signing. For example, if buildings become deteriorated, the CLT can force repairs; if the homeowners are at risk for default the CLT can and does act to forestall the default.

The ground lease also includes a resale formula intended to balance the interests of present homeowners with the long-term goals of the community land trust. The intent of affordability in perpetuity is in conflict with the desire of most owner-occupants in the U.S. to reap real estate gains. Thus, the resale formula is designed to balance the interest of individual homeowners to benefit from the use of their home as a real estate investment and the interest of the CLT to provide affordable housing for future homeowners.

Research Agenda

The community land trust model is an extremely attractive mechanism for maintaining and expanding the stock of affordable housing. While the stories one hears from and about CLTs are encouraging and inspiring, little research exists regarding their effectiveness. Furthermore, despite their many attractive attributes, CLTs are neither well known nor extensively used in the U.S. During roundtable discussions, the participants exchanged perspectives and identified six clusters of questions that would constitute a short-term CLT research agenda to help inform future action.

Do community land trusts provide long-term affordable housing?

The separation of ownership of land and buildings is the mechanism by which long-term affordability is achieved. Much of the value in structures comes from their functionality, the materials used and the level of maintenance. These are the contributions of the builder and owner. Much of the value in land comes from its location with respect to natural elements, urban services such as transportation and public schools, and disamenities such as solid waste dumps or prisons. Many of the factors that contribute to land value increases are due to the economic expansion that occurs in metropolitan areas. In strong markets the pace of value increases in land exceeds that of structures. Thus, if the land is excluded from the price of housing, affordability ought to be assured over time. Research is needed to evaluate the effectiveness of the CLT tool in providing long-term housing affordability and to evaluate CLTs as compared to other affordable housing programs.

Do community land trusts contribute to individual asset building?

community land trust housing provides residents with shelter, security of tenure, access to credit and access to urban services, among other benefits. However, individual real estate profits are limited by the design of the resale formula, which varies among CLTs. Outcomes also will vary with real estate cycles in particular cities and regions. A second question, then, has to do with the degree to which the limitation on real estate profits limits individual asset building. It is possible, for example, that the security of tenure and the predictability in housing costs provided by the CLT allow individuals to pursue other, non-real estate strategies for asset accumulation.

How effective are public and nonprofit sector funds when used to produce community land trust housing?

In most cases, community land trust housing requires subsidies for the purchase of land and/or house construction. Grants typically come from government sources or private foundations. One of the premises of the CLT model is that these subsidies are recycled later to reclaim the value of the subsidies and to benefit future homebuyers. Public subsidies are no longer needed when a CLT house is sold under the resale formula. However, it is not known how efficient subsidies are when used to develop CLT housing and how the subsidy capture mechanisms work.

Do community land trusts provide access to urban services and/or regional opportunities for leaseholders?

Quality of housing in the U.S. is closely related to residential location. However, location influences more than simply house quality; it also affects the existence and quality of job opportunities and urban services such as access to transportation, health care, libraries and public schools, all of which have direct and indirect effects on quality of life and life chances.

Researchers looking at regional policy solutions are particularly interested in whether and how community land trusts influence this access to urban services. Economists use the term “spatial mismatch” to refer to the imbalance between the location of many employment opportunities in the suburbs and the location of unemployed jobseekers in the city centers. Many participants at the roundtable were interested in exploring the degree to which CLTs facilitate bridging this mismatch because of their specific location within a region, their connections to other organizations in the neighborhood and region, or employment and training programs offered to support CLT residents.

Do community land trusts contribute to community building?

Community land trusts are unique among U.S. community-based organizations in that their concerns are geographically focused and include economic relationships, the governance structure of the organization, and the provision of direct services. In some communities CLTs are connected to other organizations serving the same community or the same constituency. Much of the literature on neighborhood development and revitalization focuses on the importance of “social capital” to people and their community. Do CLTs contribute to this connective tissue of neighborhoods? How and why? Some CLTs operate across a number of communities and thus have a more regional focus. This difference among CLTs will lead us to consider questions of scale and community definition.

Why have some community land trusts excelled and others failed?

There is great variation in community land trusts across the country. The largest, Burlington Community Land Trust in Vermont, has 370 single-family homes and condominiums and 270 rental apartment leases; other CLTs may have just a handful of units available for lease. Some CLTs have been able to grow significantly while others have not, and some have ceased peration altogether. There are many possible reasons for this variation in success, including staff resources and skills; differences in mission; financing arrangements; ability to receive donations of land; and the strength or weakness of the local land and housing market.

Future Activities Regarding community land trusts

The Lincoln Institute is interested in community land trusts because they provide a window that encourages a deeper understanding of the significant role that land plays in social and economic development and the mechanisms by which it occurs. The roundtable participants hope that investigation into this research agenda would accomplish a number of objectives.

First, new research would spread knowledge of community land trusts to practitioners in fields ranging from urban development to housing policy, neighborhood planning, community organizing, regional sustainability and equity. Second, among policy analysts this research will improve our understanding of the strengths and weaknesses of the CLT model and the contexts in which it is most useful and successful. For CLT members, leaseholders, staff and board members, the findings will provide an understanding of their locally based work within a national context. For funders and lenders the investigations will provide an empirical base from which to make future funding decisions.

This work will be conducted by the Lincoln Institute, the Institute for Community Economics, representatives of organizations who attended the roundtable and others who become engaged in these issues. For example, the National Housing Institute already has begun a study of shared equity home ownership. We expect that documenting, investigating and analyzing the history of CLTs and individual experiences will provide a better understanding of the role of land in housing affordability.

Sawmill Community Land Trust

Sawmill Community Land Trust (SCLT) is located near downtown Albuquerque, New Mexico, adjacent to Historic Old Town, which has become a leading tourist attraction. Gentrification has increased the housing prices in the Sawmill neighborhood, and vacant industrial land has increased from $1.05 per square foot in 1996 to its current high of $4.10 per square foot. A home that sold for $26,500 in 1981 cost $125,000 in 2000 and $175,000 in 2004. From 2000 to 2004, real increases in a single-family home (land and housing) in the neighborhood increased by 31 percent.

Founded in 1996, SCLT evolved from existing community organizations that had been working for years to protect the character of the ethnically diverse Sawmill community and address environmental and pollution problems caused by a particleboard factory on the site. SCLT’s main focus has been to create a permanent stock of affordable housing in the neighborhood.

In partnership with the City of Albuquerque, which acquired the 27-acre former industrial site, SCLT developed plans for 196 housing units of various types (live-work lofts, single-family detached houses, townhouses, duplexes, senior apartments and condos) as well as a plaza, park, community center, commercial space and open space connected with trails. All of the 26 homes built in the first phase of development have been sold, and construction of a second housing phase will begin soon. SCLT has led a cooperative effort to develop a metropolitan redevelopment plan for the surrounding 510-acre Sawmill/Wells Park area. The plan calls for expanding the SCLT model to other neighborhoods to ensure a permanent stock of affordable housing and a mixed-income community for the long term.

Rosalind Greenstein is senior fellow and co-chair of the Lincoln Institute’s Department of Planning and Development. Yesim Sungu-Eryilmaz is a research assistant in the Lincoln Institute’s Department of Planning and Development.

References

Burlington Associates in Community Development, LLC. 2003. Key features of the “classic” community land trust. Burlington, VT: Burlington Associates.

Institute for Community Economics (ICE) 1991. The community land trust legal manual. Springfield, MA: ICE.

Resources

Burlington Community Land Trust

Fannie Mae Corporation (search for the link to CLTs)

Institute for Community Economics (ICE)

Policy Link. See Equitable Development Toolkit and link to CLT case studies.

National Housing Institute (NHI)

In 1921, a loquacious, part-time public servant named Benton MacKaye proposed, in the Journal of the American Institute of Architects, the creation of an “Appalachian Trail,” an effort that he saw as “a project in regional planning” (MacKaye 1921). His vision evolved over several decades until, under the leadership of a lawyer named Myron Avery, the nonprofit Appalachian Trail Conference helped to bring into being a continuous system of locally, state and federally owned lands, managed cooperatively by a collection of volunteers, nonprofit organization employees and National Park Service personnel (Bristow 1998). The A.T., as the trail is often called, today stretches from Springer Mountain in Georgia to Mt. Katahdin in Maine, and the idea of extending the trail into Canada has been discussed repeatedly.

The initiative first proposed by MacKaye more than 80 years ago has proved to be a landmark in conservation innovation, characterized by: novelty in its design and implementation; lasting significance to landscape planners around the world; measurable effectiveness in trail upkeep and monitoring, achieved through collaborative efforts along the trail’s 2,100-mile length; transferability to other projects, such as the Pacific Crest Trail; and an ability to endure as a symbol of what can be accomplished, across ownerships and political boundaries, to achieve conservation-oriented purposes—primarily recreational purposes in the case of the A.T.

Despite the example provided by the Appalachian Trail and similar initiatives, regional planning generally fell out of favor during the last half of the twentieth century. While greenways, trail systems, water resource management districts and habitat conservation areas have appeared on the North American landscape from time to time, broadly defined efforts to form cross-sectoral, cross-boundary districts for the achievement of conservation objectives are not standard practice today in the United States and Canada.

However, prodded in part by the insight of biodiversity scientists that large, unfragmented corridors will be necessary for the long-term survival of some species living in the wild, enthusiasm among land conservation professionals for “landscape-scale” initiatives has reemerged in recent years. Accordingly, those concerned with such widely varying purposes as biodiversity conservation, the future of working farms and forests, the protection of water resources, the provision of outdoor recreational opportunities, and economic development linked to both natural and cultural amenities have shown a renewed interest in conservation initiatives of relatively large scale and comprehensive scope. At gatherings of conservation volunteers and professionals, such as the annual Land Trust Alliance Rally, multiple, well-attended sessions are devoted to the consideration of landscape-scale initiatives and planning techniques.

With this fresh interest in regional land and biodiversity conservation efforts in mind, the Lincoln Institute, with the support of the U.S. National Park Service Conservation Study Institute (NPS CSI), the Golden Gate National Parks Conservancy (GGNPC) and the Quebec-Labrador Foundation (QLF), invited more than two dozen senior executives of public, nonprofit, academic and private sector organizations to the Presidio of San Francisco for a two-day conference in June 2003. The purposes of the meeting were to: advance our emerging understanding of what, in concept, landscape-scale initiatives are, and why they may be necessary; better understand how such concepts are (or are not) being realized in the field; and identify which innovations and advances appear necessary to more fully realize such large and comprehensive initiatives.

The Necessity of Landscape-scale Initiatives

The broad concept of a landscape-scale conservation initiative, as framed by the conference steering committee, includes three basic ideas: (1) such initiatives should encompass some regional system of interconnected properties; (2) such efforts are in some way organized to achieve one or several specific conservation objectivescooperate or collaborate in some concrete fashion to achieve those objectives. Several individuals at the conference thoughtfully articulated the necessity for landscape-scale initiatives. Chip Collins explained that conservationists who were once focused on success in “conserving individual tracts of land” now see many of the efforts launched over the past 50 years as “piecemeal and incomplete, often failing to comprehensively address the inputs that affect ecosystems and their component parts.”

Ted Smith, in explaining why the Kendall Foundation has made philanthropic investments in landscape-scale initiatives, noted: “Ample evidence convinces us that land fragmentation is a threat to most species…. We are seeking to promote reconnections along, [for example], a large stretch of the Rockies at a scale that reflects the needs of keystone species…. Because fragmented land ownership works against nature, we are funding conservation strategies that embrace approaches to integrating the management of public and private lands. Not surprisingly, private lands often hold the greatest biological wealth and represent key corridors for wildlife movement.”

While present-day discussions of landscape-scale initiatives may sometimes start with biodiversity concerns, they frequently go well beyond that focus. Nora Mitchell stated: “To protect remaining wild lands and sustain working landscapes, many conservation efforts today operate at the landscape scale. To be successful at this large scale, these efforts must integrate ecological, cultural and recreational values with economic and community development. As a result, the practice of landscape-scale conservation is complex and challenging… It requires working across political and ecosystem boundaries, adopts an interdisciplinary perspective, and involves the collaboration of many organizations.”

It is important to note that landscape-scale efforts may be directed not only toward relatively undeveloped and rural landscapes, but also to urban environments, reflecting, as Reed Holderman pointed out, “the diversity of relationships that exist between people and land.” In urban settings, the purpose may be as much about providing essential ecosystem services (for example, flood control and water purification) or recreational opportunities as they are about protecting wildlife habitat.

In short, landscape-scale conservation initiatives call upon our limited human capacities to understand and manage complex systems, as we are challenged to steward natural and built physical systems over long periods of time. Douglas Wheeler, former California Secretary of Resources, reminded the group that we are also challenged to build enduring “institutional ecosystems” that will sustain focus on achieving key conservation objectives across decades and the tenures of multiple political administrations.

Implementation of Landscape-scale Concepts

Participants had several opportunities to consider the effectiveness of landscape-scale conservation initiatives in practice, through both pre-conference field trips and case studies examined during the meeting. Field trips included visits to rural and urban protected landscapes in the San Francisco metropolitan area that help to comprise the region’s assemblage of “green matrix” sites. Subsequent case study discussions focused on the San Francisco Bay area; the Yellowstone to Yukon (Y2Y) Initiative stretching from the state of Wyoming to the Yukon Territory; and a recent effort to encourage sustainable agricultural practices into the Cerrado region of Brazil. Given the relatively recent reemergence of interest in landscape-scale regional conservation efforts, their inherent complexity, and the range of possible conservation objectives that they might entail, it was not surprising that many of the initiatives we considered were seen more as “works in progress” than as successfully completed projects.

San Francisco Bay

Within the patchwork of protected landscapes distributed across the San Francisco Bay region, the most prominent property is the Golden Gate National Recreation Area (GGNRA), a regional-scale National Park Service unit first established in 1972. It now stretches from the Santa Cruz Mountains in the south, to prime parkland on both sides of the Golden Gate Bridge, to the Marin Headlands and northward. Billed as “the largest urban parkland in the world,” the GGNRA, at 75,500 acres (more than 30,500 hectares), offers such gems as Crissy Field, a breathtakingly beautiful bayside tidal marsh and educational center located within the Presidio of San Francisco on a former military airstrip.

Brian O’Neill and Greg Moore relayed the story behind the establishment of the 30-year-old GGNRA and the recently completed Crissy Field Center. Their story is a model case history of how, working together with the help of funding from both the federal government and private philanthropic sources, their organizations have brought to life a highly valuable recreational, educational and ecological resource for Bay-area citizens. In addition to enticing visitors, ranging from local school children to great blue herons and peregrine falcons, to make repeated visits to the site, the public, private and nonprofit partners at the Crissy Field site have recently linked food service operations at the park with the noted agricultural resources of the region. Visitors to the Crissy Field Café and Bookstore today can dine on some of the best organic produce grown in the Bay area, helping to build important ties between the area’s spectacular scenic amenities and its working farms.

Lands protected by the federal government within the GGNRA are complemented by extensive protected landholdings in the area that are owned by other governmental units, including: the State of California and various county and local governments; the academic sector, including the University of California and Stanford University; the nonprofit sector, including the Peninsula Open Space Trust (POST) and the Marin Agricultural Land Trust (MALT); and the private sector, including agricultural lands under conservation easements held by both public and nonprofit entities.

While the region’s array of protected landscapes is indeed impressive in scale and distribution, enduring coordination among the managers of these lands, for the purpose of achieving specific conservation objectives, is often lacking. For example, the manager of a local nonprofit land trust was asked if strong bonds around achieving biodiversity conservation or water quality objectives linked the management of agricultural properties protected by land trusts with the lands protected by federal agencies. His answer was instructive: “Actually, the relationship between local, state and federal conservation organizations is not always smooth. There are some threads that are starting to tie one piece of the quilt to another, but they are only threads today.” He explained that what may look like some sort of coordinated picture on a map really was built “from the grassroots up,” starting with a variety of “piecemeal efforts”; any “regional vision” emerged later.

Bay area conservationists at the conference took in stride the idea that a regional vision regarding the achievement of management objectives was still being worked out. Greg Moore noted that he and his colleagues are in some ways just now refocusing on stewardship challenges, but he offered a hopeful perspective: “Each era of success generates a new generation of ambition.” Audrey Rust pointed out that it can be a struggle just to get public and private funders to focus on stewardship issues, particularly when they are inundated with land protection funding requests. But both Moore and Rust agreed that, over the next several decades, focusing substantial resources on the achievement of stewardship objectives is a job that needs greater attention. Bob McIntosh concurred, noting that similar challenges face conservationists active on the eastern seaboard.

Yellowstone to Yukon (Y2Y)

Progress toward the realization of a continuous, well-stewarded corridor of protected lands in the Y2Y region is at an even more formative stage. Ted Smith described Y2Y as a “bottom-up” effort that has biodiversity conservation at its center. Among other objectives, Y2Y seeks to establish core areas and connecting corridors that will sustain healthy populations of grizzly and black bears along a long spine of mountains that crosses the U.S.-Canadian border.

The Y2Y Initiative website (www.y2y.net) offers a brief overview of the effort. The community of interest that has gathered around the Y2Y idea has grown over the past decade to include more than “340 organizations, institutions, foundations and conservation-minded individuals” that have “recognized the value of working together to restore and maintain the unique natural heritage of the Yellowstone to Yukon region and the quality of life it offers.”

The community has played a key role in achieving numerous visible and important conservation projects. For example, Y2Y member organizations, including the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society (CPAWS), helped lead the successful effort to establish in northern British Columbia the Muskwa-Kechika Management Area (M-KMA), a nearly 16 million acre (6.4 million hectare) district; about 25 percent of the M-KMA is designated as parkland, with the remainder included in special management zones where certain resource development activities will be allowed. While the establishment of the M-KMA is a significant success for the conservation community, its ongoing management has proven to be a real challenge. George Smith explained: “In the M-KMA, progress has been made and problems solved; some industry is occurring while the wilderness remains essentially intact. Yet, much of the integrated management system has not been created, causing line-agency power struggles and inefficiencies.”

South of the U.S.-Canadian border, the conservation community is working hard to expand on the gains made over the past two decades to conserve both public and private lands for the public benefit along the Y2Y corridor. The Trust for Public Land, for example, was successful in 2002 and 2003 in helping to protect the Taylor Fork drainage in Montana, filling in some of the checkerboard pattern of land ownership in the Gallatin National Forest. However, with various property rights groups spearheading organized opposition to both public and private land conservation efforts, the realization of landscape-scale initiatives is far from assured in the Rocky Mountain region. Many years of concerted effort lie ahead if the gaps are to be spanned between the disparate protected landscapes appearing on regional maps. Dan Sayre commented that to achieve ambitious goals, the conservation community will have to be extraordinarily persistent in making its case that careful land stewardship is in the interest of local communities, is in our national interest, and is part of a tradition with deep roots in American history.

Innovations to Advance New Initiatives

Recognizing that the concept of landscape-scale conservation is still in some respects nascent, the assembled conservationists offered a number of ideas regarding innovations that may advance its development. Story Clark pointed out that in the area of stewardship U.S.-based conservationists have a great deal to learn from their international colleagues, especially regarding “community-based conservation methodologies.” Jessica Brown agreed, based on her experience in building support for conservation initiatives in Central Europe by focusing on the role of the local community.

Glenn Prickett offered the group a short presentation on how Conservation International (CI) is helping a community-based effort in the Cerrado, a massive savannah that covers more than one-quarter of Brazil’s land area. Since World War II, the Cerrado has been intensively developed for agricultural purposes, including soybean cultivation. The region is important for its own biodiversity attributes, and because it feeds water into Brazil’s Pantanal, home to one of the globe’s most significant freshwater ecosystems. In working to build a 370-mile biodiversity corridor that connects the Cerrado and the Pantanal, CI has forged a relationship with some of the region’s most important soybean processors to develop purchasing guidelines that encourage local soybean growers to use “best practices” in their operations. Such practices include the protection of natural habitat on agricultural lands as well as careful management of riparian zones to make a measurable difference in local stream and habitat quality. By working with the community, and leveraging the reach of key industrial processors in the area, CI hopes to considerably improve the odds that a regional biodiversity corridor will be sustainable. The approach, Prickett pointed out, is transferable to North American initiatives that will depend on wildlife corridors adjacent to, or even woven into, the fabric of local agricultural and industrial properties.

In addition to working closely with communities and local industry to achieve conservation objectives, participants stressed numerous other opportunities for innovation. Gretchen Daily addressed the need for new financing mechanisms to underwrite large-scale conservation initiatives. She discussed with candor the challenges of accessing potential streams of income associated with the provision of ecosystem services (for example, funding to support forest protection and other “carbon sequestration” efforts that would help to control the levels of gases that are released into the earth’s atmosphere and contribute to global warming).

Participants also discussed the need for increasingly powerful ways to monitor large-scale easements, especially on initiatives that incorporate working forests and farmlands. Peter Stein noted that methodologies for improving both the accuracy and cost-effectiveness of monitoring protocols are under development. At the New England Forestry Foundation, for example, novel applications of remote sensing technology, combined with more traditional aerial photography techniques and on-the-ground inspections, are being leveraged to monitor new landscape-scale easements. Seasoned conservationists including Mike Soukup, Bob Bendick and Philippe Cohen underscored how advanced information technologies, such as those used in detailed, multi-scalar Geographic Information System (GIS) mapping applications, can be particularly useful in thinking through regional conservation strategies.

In conclusion, however, the focus turned from exciting new technologies to the human element. Armando Carbonell summed up the sentiment of the group, noting that a “green matrix is not just land represented by green on a map, but also a set of lasting social relationships.” Like the effort sustained by the diverse group of men and women who brought the Appalachian Trail into existence and have cared for it as a national treasure, it will take the long-term attention of present and future generations to bring today’s expansive conservation concepts into reality.

James N. Levitt is director of the Program on Conservation Innovation at the Harvard Forest, Harvard University, and is a faculty associate at the Lincoln Institute. He organizes the Institute’s annual Conservation Leadership Dialogue, and reported on the March 2002 program in the July 2002 issue of Land Lines.

References

Bristow, Robert S. 1998. Volunteer-Based Recreation Land Management: Appalachian National Scenic Trail Management Model. Parks and Recreation. National Recreation and Park Association, August 1.

Levitt, James N. 2002. Land and Biodiversity Conservation: A Leadership Dialogue. Land Lines 14(3): 1–4.

MacKaye, Benton. 1921. An Appalachian Trail: A Project in Regional Planning. Journal of the American Institute of Architects 9 (October): 325–330.

——. 1990. The New Exploration: A Philosophy of Regional Planning. The Appalachian Trail Conference, Harpers Ferry, WV, and the University of Illinois Press, Urbana-Champaign.

Conservation Leadership Dialogue Participants and Correspondents, 2003

Elizabeth Bell, Land Conservation Advisory Services, Seattle, WA
Robert Bendick, The Nature Conservancy, Altamonte Springs, Florida
Robert Berner, Marin Agricultural Land Trust, Point Reyes Station, CA
Jessica Brown, Quebec-Labrador Foundation, Ipswich, MA
Armando Carbonell,* Lincoln Institute of Land Policy, Cambridge, MA
Story Clark, conservation advisor, Wilson, WY
Patrick Coady, Coady & Company, Washington, DC
Philippe Cohen, Stanford University/Jasper Ridge, Stanford, CA
Charles E. (“Chip”) Collins, Forestland Group, Inc., Cambridge, MA
Gretchen Daily, Stanford University, Stanford, CA
Julie Early, Island Foundation, Marion, MA
Ralph Grossi, American Farmland Trust, Washington, DC
Jean Hocker,* Land Trust Alliance, emeritus, Arlington, VA
Reed Holderman, Trust for Public Land, San Francisco, CA
James N. Levitt,* Harvard Forest, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA
Nick MacPhee, Land Conservation Advisory Services, Seattle, WA
Robert McIntosh, National Park Service, Boston, MA
Nora Mitchell,* National Park Service Conservation Study Institute, Woodstock, VT
Greg Moore, Golden Gate National Parks Conservancy, San Francisco, CA
Brian O’Neill, National Park Service Golden Gate National Recreation Area, San Francisco, CA
Glenn Prickett, Conservation International, Washington, DC
Will Rogers, Trust for Public Land, San Francisco, CA
Audrey Rust, Peninsula Open Space Trust, Menlo Park, CA
Dan Sayre, Island Press, Washington, DC
George Smith, Canadian Parks and Wilderness Association, Gibsons, BC
Ted Smith, Kendall Foundation, Boston, MA
Michael Soukup, National Park Service, Washington, DC
Peter Stein, Lyme Timber Company, Lyme, NH
Douglas Wheeler, Hogan & Hartson, LLP, Washington, DC

* Conference Steering Committee

Over the past 25 years, there has been a dramatic increase in the acquisition of conservation easements by nonprofit organizations. Privately held conservation easements, i.e., those held by nonprofits rather than governmental entities, have thus emerged as an important and growing tool for the preservation of natural and scenic features of the United States landscape.