Los fideicomisos de suelo en los Estados Unidos difieren entre sí en gran manera, ya sea en términos de antigüedad, tamaño de la superficie protegida, misión, estrategia, presupuesto y contexto. Audrey Rust, una reconocida líder conservacionista y beneficiaria de la beca Kingsbury Browne 2012 del Instituto Lincoln, es la indicada a la hora de analizar las diferencias entre dos medidas de conservación totalmente diferentes pero igualmente exitosas que se dieron en la región oeste de los Estados Unidos. Rust se desempeñó como presidente y gerente general del Fideicomiso del Espacio Abierto de la Península (Peninsula Open Space Trust o POST) en Palo Alto, California, durante 24 años hasta julio de 2011. En la actualidad es miembro del directorio de la Reserva American Prairie (American Prairie Reserve o APR) en Bozeman, Montana.

La APR es uno de los nuevos proyectos de conservación más ambiciosos del país, cuyo objetivo es lograr reunir 1,42 millones de hectáreas y crear el complejo más grande de vida silvestre de los 48 estados continentales del país en Montana, el cuarto estado más grande de los Estados Unidos, cuya población es la séptima de menores dimensiones (solamente un millón de habitantes en 2012). Por otro lado, el POST comprende sólo el 2 por ciento de la superficie proyectada de la APR, aunque se considera un proyecto con mucho éxito, ya que reúne unas 28.300 hectáreas de espacios abiertos, granjas y parques de altísimo valor económico en una región que presenta una gran densidad y que va de San Francisco al Valle Silicon, con más de 7 millones de habitantes.

A pesar de sus perfiles tan disímiles, estas organizaciones comparten una sorprendente cantidad de similitudes. En esta entrevista con el Instituto Lincoln, Rust compara las historias y características particulares del POST y de la APR en base a su experiencia de primera mano con cada organización, y ofrece además algunas lecciones universales para todos aquellos involucrados en la difícil y desafiante tarea de preservar los espacios abiertos.

Instituto Lincoln: ¿Cómo se originó el Fideicomiso del Espacio Abierto de la Península y cuál es su misión?

Audrey Rust: El POST es un fideicomiso de suelo tradicional de 35 años de antigüedad, ubicado en una densa región metropolitana y que ha crecido en forma significativa desde su fundación en el año 1977. En sus orígenes, esta organización fue una socia de conservación privada del Distrito Regional del Espacio Abierto del Centro de la Península, una agencia pública de la península de San Francisco financiada mediante impuestos (ver figura 1). El POST, trabajando en la periferia urbana, recaudaba fondos privados en nombre del Distrito y, en ocasiones, llevaba a cabo un proyecto de donación de tierras. En la actualidad, todo el territorio protegido por el POST se encuentra dentro de un área metropolitana importante.

Debido a que el POST se encuentra ubicado en un lugar de gran densidad poblacional, resultó indispensable desde el principio incluir de inmediato oportunidades de recreación pública de baja intensidad, así como también brindar la posibilidad de exposición a la biodiversidad de la península, donde, dentro de un tramo transversal de 20 kilómetros, podemos pasar a través de al menos nueve ecosistemas diferentes. La tarea del POST tiene como objetivo garantizar un sistema de terrenos abiertos interconectados en corredores a lo largo de la bahía de San Francisco, las montañas de Santa Cruz y la costa del Pacífico. No se contempla ninguna cantidad total específica de hectáreas, a menos que se esté llevando a cabo una campaña en particular; sin embargo, el hecho de brindarle a la gente un lugar donde experimentar la naturaleza es sin duda una fuerza impulsora.

Instituto Lincoln: ¿Y cuáles son la génesis y misión de la reserva American Prairie?

Audrey Rust: Desde su fundación en el año 2002, la APR ha logrado reunir 110.883 hectáreas, aunque continuamente intenta proteger otras 1,42 millones de hectáreas contiguas de praderas de hierba corta en calidad de reserva de vida silvestre en la región noreste de Montana, uno de los únicos cuatro lugares en todo el mundo donde tal medida de conservación es posible (ver figura 2). La idea 1se originó en las investigaciones realizadas por un grupo de organizaciones conservacionistas sin fines de lucro que trabajaban en la región norte de las Montañas Rocosas, quienes, en sus comienzos, obtuvieron el asesoramiento científico del Fondo Mundial para la Vida Silvestre.

La APR está introduciendo bisontes de las llanuras sin introgresión genética del ganado, y es su intención desarrollar una manada sustentable de 10.000 cabezas, a la vez que se encuentra restaurando otras especies nativas, tales como perros de la pradera, hurones de pies negros y lechuzas vizcacheras. La APR adquirió rápidamente una gran cantidad de tierras, pero le llevará décadas reintroducir la fauna silvestre e impulsar un crecimiento significativo de poblaciones de estas especies.

Los terrenos federales representan un gran porcentaje del hábitat de vida silvestre que está reuniendo la APR. Los terrenos de la reserva limitan al sur con el Refugio Nacional de Vida Silvestre Charles M. Russell y al oeste con el Monumento Nacional de la Quebrada del Río Missouri Superior, el cual figura destacadamente en nuestra historia nacional como parte de la expedición de Lewis y Clark.

Instituto Lincoln: ¿Cuáles son los desafíos clave que deben enfrentar el POST y la APR?

Audrey Rust: El mayor desafío que enfrenta cualquier proyecto de conservación es siempre el financiamiento. El primer obstáculo es identificar a los posibles donantes y captar su atención. Para ello, se necesita una visión claramente articulada, así como también la habilidad de hacer que el proyecto sea interesante para el posible donante. La validación de la misión por parte de un tercero respetado es clave en esta cuestión. También se necesitan ciertos medios para que el donante experimente el proyecto de interés y se sienta adecuadamente incluido, además de desarrollar una relación sólida que dé como resultado la posibilidad de solicitar su apoyo en forma apropiada y en el momento justo.

Instituto Lincoln: ¿Cuáles son los desafíos de financiamiento del POST en particular?

Audrey Rust: En el área de la bahía de San Francisco, millones de personas ven y aprecian el hecho de que la proximidad con la naturaleza mejora su calidad de vida, pero la mayoría no conoce el papel que desempeña el POST en esta tarea o, si lo saben, no necesariamente se sienten movilizados para apoyar económicamente el trabajo del POST. La competencia por obtener financiamiento filantrópico dentro de la pequeña área geográfica del Valle Silicon es intensa. Todas las principales organizaciones conservacionistas, además de la poderosa maquinaria de recaudación de fondos de la Universidad de Stanford, funcionan dentro de esta área.

En el POST, la recaudación de fondos se realiza de manera tradicional. Existe un programa anual de donación muy bien desarrollado que mueve a muchos donantes en los niveles de donación de capital más altos. Muchos de ellos están dispuestos a prestar sus redes de contactos para la causa y, debido al éxito que siempre tiene la organización y a su listado de donantes actuales, las personas se sienten cómodas y apoyadas por su comunidad cuando realizan una donación. El modelo del POST también ha dependido de conseguir y crear fondos públicos y, posteriormente, vender terrenos o derechos de servidumbre a una entidad pública, ya sea al mismo precio pagado por el POST o a un precio menor, lo que permite que la organización obtenga un rendimiento de los fondos del donante para que estos sean utilizados nuevamente en el futuro.

El POST también enfrenta el desafío del éxito. Con frecuencia, los donantes a nivel de liderazgo sienten que ya están listos para pasar a enfocarse en nuevas ideas y nuevas cuestiones medioambientales, ya que ven que su impacto personal no es tan visible como lo sería si comenzaran su propia organización nueva. Algunos donantes sienten que ya han hecho su parte y que ahora es el turno de que otros ocupen su lugar. Nunca ha sido tan difícil atraer a nuevos donantes de los niveles más altos de liderazgo.

Instituto Lincoln: ¿De qué manera la misión y los objetivos de la APR afectan su estrategia de recaudación de fondos?

Audrey Rust: La APR enfrenta lo que comúnmente se denomina un problema de “pipeline” debido a que la APR es una organización relativamente nueva, y en la que la población de posibles donantes se encuentra muy dispersa y a gran distancia de la reserva, encontrar a las personas correctas ha conllevado varios falsos comienzos y reuniones improductivas. Ha sido difícil exponer el proyecto ante los posibles donantes de manera que se pueda desarrollar una relación filantrópica. Aunque los miembros del directorio están dispuestos, solamente unos pocos poseen redes de contactos que hayan sido productivas para la APR. Resulta difícil y costoso evaluar el interés real de un posible donante, estimar su probable nivel de donación y desarrollar una relación perdurable con una persona que se encuentra lejos geográficamente. Por ahora, el estatus no está asociado con el hecho de apoyar la causa. Además, la enorme meta de la campaña (de 300 millones a 500 millones de dólares) hace que una donación de un millón de dólares parezca insignificante. Toda campaña práctica debería atraer una donación de entre 80 millones y 100 millones de dólares en la cima de la pirámide de la recaudación de fondos.

Desarrollar un listado productivo de posibles donantes a nivel de liderazgo sólo vale la pena si realmente podemos reunirnos y desarrollar relaciones con ellos. La geografía genera dificultades cuando no hay suficientes personas en un área en particular y no se pueden aprovechar los esfuerzos realizados. El tiempo es un elemento clave para desarrollar las relaciones necesarias.

No obstante, debido al tamaño y alcances poco comunes de la APR, esta organización puede tener un atractivo singular para personas con un alto nivel económico que, tal como ocurrió con los Rockefeller hace unas décadas, podrían crear esta Reserva solamente en base a sus obras filantrópicas. Y este es el sueño sin cumplir de todo director ejecutivo. Las probabilidades son pocas, pero la historia nos demuestra que es posible. El modelo de la APR nunca recurrió a los fondos públicos como manera de aprovechar el dinero privado, ya que los terrenos públicos arrendados están, en cierta medida, logrando justamente esto.

Otro desafío muy importante para la APR en cuanto al financiamiento es la escala del proyecto. El impacto se da en aumentos de 20.250 o 40.500 hectáreas en un paisaje en el que los biólogos conservacionistas han determinado que, para que una llanura de hierba mixta sea un ecosistema sano y funcional y pueda sostener el complemento total de la biodiversidad de praderas nativas, el terreno debería ser de aproximadamente 13.000 kilómetros cuadrados (cerca de 1,3 millones de hectáreas).

Instituto Lincoln: ¿Cómo han enfrentado los desafíos de financiamiento los líderes de ambas organizaciones?

Audrey Rust: Tanto en la APR como en el POST, el primer presidente y director ejecutivo, que también cumplía las funciones de miembro del directorio, tenía una sólida formación en negocios pero ninguna experiencia en la recaudación de fondos o en cómo llevar adelante una organización sin fines de lucro. El vicepresidente del directorio de ambas organizaciones era un exitoso inversor de capital de riesgo y se lo consideraba como fundador. Todos estos líderes eran carismáticos y poseían buenos contactos. Por último, pero no por ello menos importante, ambos directores ejecutivos fundadores debieron aportar o prestar grandes cantidades de fondos a la organización para mantenerla a flote.

El presidente fundador de la APR, Sean Gerrity, continúa al timón de la organización después de 10 años, sin que se haya reducido su pasión por el conservacionismo. Sin embargo, el tiempo necesario para realizar tantos viajes y suplir las necesidades económicas de la organización superaba el de un trabajo de tiempo completo y ninguno de los profesionales de desarrollo que contrató logró aliviarle la carga. Bajo la premisa de que los posibles donantes desean encontrarse con alguien que posea un título, hace dos años Gerrity realizó un cambio radical en cuanto al funcionamiento de la organización y contrató dos directores gerentes que son capaces de soportar una significativa carga en cuanto a la recaudación de fondos y los contenidos. Esta estrategia requiere de reuniones o llamadas telefónicas constantes a fin de mantenerse alineados en todos los aspectos de la organización, pero está funcionando. La organización de la APR en base al modelo de directores gerentes ha permitido al personal viajar más y desarrollar mejores relaciones con los donantes. El personal actual ha sido contratado hace menos de dos años, pero está logrando avances.

Instituto Lincoln: ¿Cómo ha superado usted el desafío de recaudar fondos en el POST?

Audrey Rust: Cuando el POST me contrató en 1986 para reemplazar a Robert Augsburger, director ejecutivo fundador, mi primera misión fue recaudar 2 millones de dólares en unos pocos meses para ejercer una opción de compra sobre una finca costera muy importante, que representó el primer proyecto realmente independiente del POST.

Yo entendía a la comunidad local de donantes y tenía bastante experiencia en recaudación de fondos y gestión de organizaciones sin fines de lucro. Estaba completamente abocada al trabajo y a la necesidad de cumplir con nuestras obligaciones financieras. Aunque generalmente no era necesario viajar para recaudar fondos, la proximidad de los posibles donantes convertía cada fin de semana, cada mercado de agricultores y cada evento a nivel local en una oportunidad para entablar contactos. Llevamos a cabo un proyecto importante tras otro, mientras realizábamos un buen trabajo conservacionista e íbamos tomando impulso, pero yo estaba exhausta.

A fin de resolver este problema, conseguí un personal muy bueno. No obstante, mi enfoque fue tradicional: tener la suficiente cantidad de dinero en el banco para contratar al personal adecuado y asegurarme de que uno de los empleados fuera un joven abogado con el potencial necesario para asumir mayores responsabilidades y tareas de liderazgo. Continué encargándome de la recaudación de fondos de grandes donantes, así como también supervisando la estrategia y negociación de adquisición de terrenos clave, mientras que otros empleados se encargaban de realizar las tareas y la administración diarias de la organización. La capacidad de aumentar la cantidad de empleados y delegar algunas tareas significó un gran avance, tanto para mí como para la organización.

Instituto Lincoln: ¿Cuál ha sido el enfoque básico del POST en cuanto a la adquisición de tierras y de qué manera esto ha afectado su estrategia financiera?

Audrey Rust: Tanto el POST como la APR tienen como objetivo conectar terrenos públicos existentes mediante la adquisición de propiedades privadas adyacentes, y ambas organizaciones consideran a los entes conservacionistas locales como sus aliados clave en la tarea de preservar la biodiversidad, brindar acceso público y generar una mayor visión del paisaje protegido. Sin embargo, debido a que tienen diferentes estrategias básicas de conservación del suelo, esto da como resultado patrones de financiamiento e impactos financieros a largo plazo muy diferentes.

La intención del POST es transferir todos los terrenos que protege, y la mayor parte de estas tierras se convertirá en propiedad pública en forma de parques federales, estatales o de condados, o se entregará a los distritos regionales de espacios abiertos para que se encarguen de su administración y protección de forma permanente. Las tierras aptas para la agricultura, que se encuentran protegidas por estrictos derechos de servidumbre con fines conservacionistas, se venden a los agricultores locales. El POST retiene los derechos de servidumbre junto con un fondo dotal que vela por los derechos de servidumbre a fin de garantizar el monitoreo y el cumplimiento de las normas.

El primer proyecto que emprendió el POST a fines de la década de 1970 dio como resultado la donación y posterior venta (a la mitad del valor tasado) de una propiedad altamente visible que era adyacente a la ciudad donde vivía un gran porcentaje de los posibles donantes. Gracias a los fondos que surgieron de esta venta, el POST logró salvar otras tierras. Sin embargo, la organización progresó lentamente durante aproximadamente una década, sin tener una verdadera estrategia de protección de suelos que fuera financieramente sustentable.

En 1986, a raíz de una oportunidad para comprar una finca costera de 485 hectáreas, el POST presentó una oferta de compra de la propiedad, que requería el financiamiento por parte del propietario, una importante recaudación de fondos y la posterior acción política en todo el estado. El éxito en este caso se tradujo en la creación de un fondo de capital de trabajo que le permitió al POST repetir una estrategia similar en varias oportunidades, enfocándose en proyectos de conservación importantes y ambiciosos. Debido a que se ganó la reputación de cumplir con sus promesas, el POST pasó luego a recaudar fondos en una campaña de capitales respecto de un inventario mucho mayor de propiedades. El hecho de poseer un capital de trabajo le permitió al POST estar libre para enfocarse en lo que debía hacerse en lugar de lo que podría hacerse.

Instituto Lincoln: ¿Cuáles han sido los logros y los fracasos más importantes de la estrategia del POST?

Audrey Rust: El POST logró generar un capital de trabajo y así demostrar a los donantes una rentabilidad apalancada. El éxito generó más éxito y, en la actualidad, el POST funciona con una cuenta de capital de trabajo de más de 125 millones de dólares. Las tierras protegidas nunca estuvieron en riesgo de perderse debido a problemas financieros. El tipo de fondos públicos que se utiliza, sumado a las donaciones de origen privado, brindan aún mayores garantías.

Cada uno de estos logros ha generado en el POST la confianza de pasar a otro nivel respecto de las tareas de protección, restauración y colaboración en forma directa. En la actualidad, el arsenal conservacionista de la organización comprende además la ingeniería forestal sustentable, los derechos de servidumbre activa en las tierras de cultivo, el pastoreo de conservación y la remoción de especies exóticas.

Por otro lado, nunca se articuló bien una visión amplia de lo que podría traer aparejado el futuro, ya que el POST siempre trabajó de manera gradual. Despertar la imaginación de los donantes empresariales en niveles del liderazgo (que representan la principal fuente de riqueza en el valle) se volvió cada vez más difícil a medida que transcurrió el tiempo. También resultó difícil para la organización abocarse a la tarea de restaurar y administrar las tierras que poseía para su posterior transferencia.

A medida que los fondos públicos se van agotando, resulta mucho menos probable que las agencias públicas acepten la responsabilidad que conlleva poseer terrenos adicionales. El POST está experimentando en la actualidad tanto los gastos derivados de poseer propiedades en forma indefinida como la incapacidad de vender las tierras para obtener un rendimiento de capital que vaya nuevamente a sus cuentas.

Instituto Lincoln: ¿Cuál ha sido el enfoque básico de la APR?

Audrey Rust: La APR enfrenta una situación diferente en Montana, donde las fincas privadas son mucho más grandes que cualquier parcela de las montañas de Santa Cruz, y sus propietarios controlan otros tramos de grandes dimensiones de terrenos de propiedad federal arrendados. Es intención de la APR mantener a perpetuidad estas tierras y arrendamientos privados. A fin de garantizar la gestión de estas tierras, se necesitará realizar una recaudación de fondos dotales en forma privada.

La APR quiso demostrar desde el principio que podía lograr progresos reales respecto de su gran visión conservacionista, a pesar de la falta de fondos. La APR se movió rápidamente para adquirir tierras y sus arrendamientos correspondientes mediante el financiamiento por parte de los propietarios. El liderazgo de la organización consideró que establecer firmemente nuestra posición en este asunto era la única manera de comenzar a atraer el dinero que necesitábamos para adquirir las propiedades que conformarían la reserva. Sin la suficiente experiencia en recaudación de fondos o sin un listado de posibles donantes, la lucha era enorme. Hasta hace poco, sólo teníamos unos fondos mínimos en nuestras reservas, lo que volvía extremadamente difícil cumplir con nuestras obligaciones financieras, en particular las deudas.

Instituto Lincoln: ¿Cuáles son los logros más importantes y los desafíos actuales de la APR?

Audrey Rust: La persistencia y el buen trabajo están dando sus frutos. Entre los avances más importantes se cuentan la oportunidad de adquirir cuotas y sus arrendamientos respectivos en una finca de 60.700 hectáreas y, en el año 2012, una donación muy importante de parte de uno de los mayores benefactores de la organización. La APR también comenzó a construir un lujoso “campamento safari” que abrirá sus puertas en 2013 y que permitirá atraer a la pradera a donantes del nivel de liderazgo, desarrollar relaciones y profundizar su conexión con la tierra.

La organización posee un buen historial y ha demostrado su capacidad de hacer que las cosas funcionen, por lo que puede comenzar a poner en práctica principios de gestión a fin de pronosticar las futuras actividades. Uno de los ejemplos más carismáticos es la reintroducción de bisontes genéticamente puros. En la actualidad existen extraordinarias oportunidades para adquirir importantes lotes de terrenos. Sin embargo, sin reservas de capital de trabajo significativas, el personal y el liderazgo de la APR enfrentan grandes dificultades a la hora de cumplir con sus obligaciones financieras. Esto genera un clima en el que se busca obtener un rápido rendimiento de las donaciones en lugar de desarrollar el tipo de donaciones provenientes de los niveles de liderazgo que la organización más necesita a largo plazo. Por ahora, los planes se encuentran incompletos para garantizar una protección privada permanente de los terrenos adquiridos. La organización puede comprar los terrenos bajo financiamiento de los propietarios o que estén especialmente a un muy buen precio, aun cuando no exista una gran prioridad para su adquisición. La recaudación de los fondos dotales necesarios para la administración continua de los terrenos ha sido un proceso muy lento.

Instituto Lincoln: En conclusión, ¿cuáles son los principales aspectos que estas dos organizaciones tan diferentes tienen en común?

Audrey Rust: El POST y la APR se encuentran en diferentes etapas de su crecimiento organizacional, y el futuro de cada una depende de sus diferencias más evidentes y sus historiales respectivos. No obstante, es posible identificar ciertos elementos clave que ambas tienen en común y que pueden llevarlas al éxito:

• Líderes capaces y comprometidos a largo plazo.
• Una estrategia acorde con el tamaño de la visión.
• El desarrollo de fuentes de financiamiento que llevan años en dar fruto.
• La asociación con agencias públicas para apalancar las tareas de conservación.

Ambas organizaciones continúan enfrentando importantes desafíos para financiar sus objetivos. El POST ha realizado con éxito la transición hacia un nuevo liderazgo y se encuentra abocado a iniciativas conservacionistas mucho mayores y complejas. El éxito ha dominado a esta organización por tanto tiempo que resulta difícil para los nuevos filántropos encontrar algo que “inventar” o apoyar. El POST es una organización muy bien administrada, que deja pocas oportunidades para que la nueva elite del Valle Silicon participe con su consabida frase “podemos hacerlo mejor”. El POST debe dedicarse más a identificar y atraer a aquellos pocos donantes de la cima de la pirámide. Este desafío resulta especialmente difícil debido a que la participación del gobierno prácticamente se ha detenido y a que los tres mayores donantes del POST ya no están brindando subvenciones para este tipo de tareas conservacionistas dentro del rango de entre los 20 millones y los 50 millones de dólares. Además, es difícil apuntar a una fase final y, sin ello, la organización perderá el sentido de urgencia y el apoyo de las donaciones.

La APR es una organización nueva y fascinante y ha logrado asociarse en forma creativa con National Geographic, que produjo un video de una hora de duración titulado “The American Serengeti”, con el cual se logró realzar la misión de la APR y, como consecuencia, darle a la organización la importancia nacional que necesita a fin de poder recaudar mayores donaciones a nivel nacional. Es justamente en estos tiempos que los donantes clave del nivel de liderazgo deben involucrarse en la causa. En toda organización sin fines de lucro, las pirámides de financiamiento se están volviendo cada vez más verticales. Las campañas de este tipo con frecuencia dependen de que uno o dos donantes provean fondos que igualen la mitad o hasta dos tercios del objetivo total. Sin estos donantes, el personal de la organización se desgasta tratando de recaudar fondos y los costos de estas actividades aumentan rápidamente.

Estoy convencida de que el tamaño, los alcances y la habilidad para medir la visión que tiene una organización son factores determinantes para el éxito. Los donantes y el público en general se sienten impulsados por la idea de que podemos cambiar nuestro mundo. Articular claramente esa visión y promoverla es una tarea esencial. El POST debe trabajar en los mensajes que envía para poder articular mejor su visión actual. La APR debe encontrar otras formas de comunicar su visión de forma más efectiva y desarrollar una importante masa crítica de partidarios.

Excess development entitlements and distressed subdivisions are impairing the quality of life, skewing development patterns and real estate markets, damaging ecosystems, and diminishing fiscal health in communities throughout the U.S. Intermountain West. Since the post-2007 real estate bust, which hit many parts of the region severely, eroding subdivision roads now carve up agricultural lands, and lonely “spec” houses continue to dot many rural and suburban landscapes. Some are vacant, but others are partially occupied and require the delivery of public services to remote neighborhoods that generate very little tax revenue. In jurisdictions where lots could be sold before infrastructure was completed, many people now find themselves owning a parcel in what was supposed to be a high-amenity development but is in fact little more than a paper plat.

These arrested developments—known colloquially as “zombie” subdivisions—are the living dead of the real estate market. Beset by financial or legal challenges, once-promising projects are now afflicting their environs with health and safety hazards, blight, decreased property values, threats to municipal finance, overcommitted natural resources, fragmented development patterns, and other distortions in local real estate markets.

This article presents an overview of the economic context that fostered so many excess entitlements in the West and of the local planning and development controls that influence how those market forces play out in a given community. It also describes how three communities in the Intermountain West have redesigned distressed subdivisions in their jurisdictions and how those efforts are facilitating recovery, creating more sustainable growth scenarios, improving property values, and conserving land and wildlife habitat.

The Economic Background that Fostered Excess Development in the West

In the Intermountain West, where land is abundant, and rapid growth is common, it’s not unusual for local governments to grant development entitlements well in advance of market demand for housing. Boom and bust cycles aren’t rare in the region either. The magnitude of the Great Recession, however, amplified the frequency of excess entitlements and exacerbated their harmfulness to surrounding communities. In the Intermountain West alone, millions of vacant lots are entitled. Across a large number of the region’s counties, the rate of vacant subdivision parcels ranges from around 15 percent to two-thirds of all lots (tables 1 and 2).

As the economy continues to recover, will the market correct this surplus of development rights, incentivizing developers to build out distressed subdivisions or to redesign those that do not reflect current market demand? In some locations, yes; in others, it is unlikely. Subdivisions are designed to be near-permanent divisions of land. Although many areas throughout the Intermountain West are rebounding robustly, many subdivisions remain distressed, with expired development assurances, few if any residents, fragmented ownership, partially completed or deteriorating infrastructure improvements, and weak or nonexistent mechanisms to maintain new services. Uncorrected, these arrested developments will continue to debilitate the fiscal health and quality of life in affected areas.

The Complexity of Revising Development Entitlements

Local jurisdictions shape the future of their communities through the entitlement of land, the approval of subdivisions, and the granting of subsequent development permits. These actions result in land use commitments that prove difficult to change in the future, establish development standards, and often commit the community to significant, long-term service costs.

Figure 1 demonstrates that excess entitlements are easiest to address when they’re purely paper subdivisions—with one owner, no improvements, no lots sold, and no houses built. As the status of a subdivision progresses from a paper plat to a partially built development—and more than a few landowners are involved, or the subdivider has begun to install improvements, or more than a few owners have built homes—the challenges grow more complex, and the options for resolving them more constrained.

The revision or revocation of a paper plat requires the agreement of only a single property owner who hasn’t made any major investments that might constrain the ability to alter design plans, allowing for the simplest resolutions (though the situation becomes more complicated if a lender must also approve any changes). The sale of even one lot to an individual landowner makes entitlement issues in the subdivision harder to resolve for three major legal reasons: (1) the need to protect the property rights of lot owners, (2) the need to preserve access to sold lots, and (3) pressure for equal treatment between current and potential future homeowners. Some of these issues can give rise to lawsuits, creating potential liability for the town or county. The revision or revocation of a plat with sold lots will require the agreement of multiple owners—each of whom may decide to file a lawsuit on one or more of these grounds.

Once the developer makes significant investments for infrastructure and other improvements, complications escalate. Although the purchase of land does not in itself create a “vested right” to complete the development, once an owner invests in improvements to serve anticipated houses, it is difficult to stop construction of those homes without reimbursing the developer for the cost of infrastructure.

Completed homes—particularly if a number of them are already occupied—further compound the complexity of resolving distressed subdivisions. Access roads will need to be retained and maintained, even if the homes are widely scattered in inefficient patterns. If the developer committed to building a golf course, park, or other community facilities, individual lot owners could claim a right to those amenities—whether or not they have been built, and whether or not the associations slated to upkeep them exist or have enough members to perform the maintenance. Even if the developer was clearly responsible for constructing the amenities, the local government could become liable for them if it has prevented the developer from building the amenities by vacating parts of the plat where those amenities were to be built.

Larger subdivisions split into several phases at various stages of completion pose the most intricate and extensive challenges. The first phases of construction may be mostly sold lots with most infrastructure in place, but later phases may be mere paper plats—unbuilt, with no lots sold and no improvements in place. Thus, a single distressed subdivision may pose several types of legal entitlement issues, with varying levels of risk and potential liability, in different corners of the development.

How Three Communities Successfully Redesigned Excess Entitlements

Local governments seeking to remedy the potential negative impacts of excess development entitlements and distressed subdivisions have many different land use and zoning measures at their disposal. We identified 48 tools and 12 best practices as a result of our research, which draws on case studies, lessons shared by experts during several workshops, data analysis, and a survey of planners, developers, and landowners in the Intermountain West. (For the scope of preventive and treatment strategies, consult the full Policy Focus Report, Arrested Developments: Combating Zombie Subdivisions and Other Excess Entitlements). Generally, they fall into four categories: economic incentives, purchase of land or development rights, growth management programs, and development regulations:

1. Economic incentives—such as targeted infrastructure investments, fee waivers, and regulatory streamlining—avoid controversial regulations.

2. Purchase of land or development rights is the most direct way to eliminate unwanted development entitlements, but it may be too costly for some communities.

3. Growth management approaches include relying on urban service area boundaries or adequate public facility requirements to limit new development entitlements.

4. Development regulations include rezoning, changes in subdivision ordinances and development assurances, initiation of plat vacating processes, and revised development agreement templates.

The following three case study communities primarily utilized development regulations. Mesa County in Colorado and Teton County in Idaho revised their development agreements to redesign local distressed subdivisions. All three jurisdictions, including the City of Maricopa in Arizona, facilitated voluntary replatting efforts as well.

How Mesa County, Colorado, Revised Its Development Approval Process and Abandoned Paper Plats

During the oil shale boom and bust of the 1980s, Mesa County, Colorado, was one of the regions hit hardest. When ExxonMobil ceased operations in the area, the population of Grand Junction, the county seat, plummeted by 15,000 people overnight. All development halted. In the bust’s wake, more than 400 subdivisions, encompassing about 4,000 lots throughout the county, were abandoned. Nearly 20 percent of Mesa County’s subdivisions were left with unfulfilled development improvement agreements.

When the county’s bond rating dropped in 1988, it put several measures in place to clean up the excess entitlements. It negotiated with local banks and the development community to establish a development improvements agreement form and procedure. It also established a new financial guarantee called the “Subdivision Disbursement Agreement” between construction lenders and the county. The agreement puts the county in a direct partnership with financial institutions to ensure, 1) an agreed-upon construction budget, 2) an established timeline for construction of the improvements, 3) an agreed-upon process, involving field inspections during construction, for releasing loan funds to developers, and 4) the county’s commitment to accept a developer’s improvements, after certain conditions have been met, and to release the developer from the financial security.

It took Mesa County 15 years to fully address the excess entitlements stemming from the 1980s bust, but the work paid off: During the Great Recession, the county had the lowest ratio of vacant subdivision parcels to total subdivision lots among approximately 50 counties examined in the Intermountain West. Not a single developer backed out of a development agreement when only partial improvements were made. While some subdivisions remain vacant, all improvements have been completed to the point that the parcels will be ready for construction once they are sold.

River Canyon (figure 2), for example, was planned as a 38-lot subdivision on 192 acres. When the real estate bubble burst in 2008, the entire site had been lightly graded with roads cut, but no other improvements were complete, and no parcels had been sold. Realizing the lots would not be viable in the near-term, the developer worked with the county to replat the subdivision into one parent lot until the owner is ready to apply for subdivision review again.

The resolution is a win-win: The county escapes a contract with a developer in default and avoids the sale of lots to multiple owners with whom it would be difficult to coordinate construction of subdivision improvements. The developer avoids the cost of installing services and paying taxes on vacant property zoned for residential development.

Now, lenders in Mesa County often encourage the consolidation of platted lots, because many banks will not lend money or extend the time on construction loans without a certain percentage of presales validating the asset as a solid investment. The landowner generally complies as well, to avoid paying taxes on vacant residential property, which carries the second highest tax rate in Colorado. If market demand picks up, property owners may submit the same subdivision plans to the county for review, to ensure compliance with current regulations. If the plans still comply, the developer can proceed from that point in the subdivision process. Mesa County consolidated parcels this way a total of seven times from 2008 to 2012, to eliminate lots where no residential construction is anticipated in the near future.

How Maricopa, Arizona, Partnered to Convert Distressed Parcels to Nonresidential Uses

Maricopa—incorporated in 2003, in the early years of Arizona’s real estate boom—is typical of many new exurban communities within growing metropolitan regions. Faced with an influx of new residents “driving until they qualified,” the community quickly committed the majority of available land to residential subdivision entitlements. At the height of the boom, the small city—37 miles from downtown Phoenix and 20 miles from the urbanizing edge of the Phoenix metro area—was issuing roughly 600 residential building permits per month.

Pinal County had approved many of Maricopa’s residential subdivisions before the city was incorporated, in accordance with the county’s 1967 zoning code. In fact, following standard practice for newly incorporated communities, the city initially adopted the Pinal County Zoning Ordinance. For a time, the county planning and zoning commission also continued to serve as the city’s planning oversight body. But this older rural county code did not consider or create incentives for mixed-use development, areas with a downtown character, a balance between jobs and housing, institutional uses, or social services. The lack of diversity resulted in a shortage of retail and service use areas and a scarcity of designated areas for nonprofits such as churches, private schools, daycare, counseling, and health services. As new residents looked for public services and local jobs, this dearth of land for employment and public facilities became increasingly problematic.

When the Great Recession hit and the housing bust occurred, supply overran demand for residential lots, and many became distressed. Maricopa faced this challenge and seized the opportunity to reexamine its growth patterns and address the multiple distressed subdivisions plaguing the community.

The city chose to partner with the private sector—including developers, banks, bonding agencies, and other government agencies—to address distressed subdivisions and the lack of institutional and public land uses. The first test of this new approach began when a Catholic congregation was looking for a church site in an urban location with existing sewage, water, and other necessary infrastructure. The City of Maricopa served as a facilitator to connect the church with the developers of Glennwilde, a partially built, distressed development. The church chose a site in a late phase of the subdivision—at that point still a paper plat. The city vacated the plat for that site and returned it to one large parcel, which the Glennwilde developer then sold to the church.

Construction has not yet begun, but the project has served as a model for other arrested developments. The collaborative effort among the city, owners of currently distressed subdivisions, and other interested parties has also inspired approved proposals for a Church of Latter Day Saints stake center, a civic center, a regional park, and a multigenerational facility throughout the city.

How Teton County, Idaho, Demanded Plat Redesign, Vacation, or Replatting

Rural, unincorporated Teton County, Idaho—with an estimated year-round population of 10,170—has a total of 9,031 platted lots, and 6,778 are vacant. Even if the county’s annual growth rate returned to 6 percent, where it hovered between 2000 and 2008, this inventory of lots reflects a stockpile adequate to accommodate growth for approximately the next 70 years. This extreme surplus of entitlements —with three vacant entitled lots for every developed lot in the county—stems from three poor decisions the board of commissioners made from 2003 to 2005.

First, the county adopted a quick and easy process for landowners to request the right to up-zone their properties from 20-acre lots to 2.5-acre lots. None of these zone changes were granted in tandem with a concurrent development proposal; virtually all were granted for future speculative development. It was not uncommon for the county to up-zone hundreds of acres in a single night of public hearings; the agenda for one meeting could include up to ten subdivision applications.

Second, the county’s Guide for Development 2004–2010 called for aggressive growth, with a focus on residential construction to drive economic development. The goals and objectives, however, were vague, and the plan failed to specify the type and location of projects. Discredited by the community, the document was ultimately ignored during the approvals process and fostered explosive, random development, resulting in six years of land use decisions made without any coherent strategy.

Third, the Board of County Commissioners adopted a Planned United Development (PUD) ordinance with density bonuses in 2005. Under the PUD cluster development provisions, developers could exceed the underlying zoning entitlements by as much as 1,900 percent. Typical PUD density bonuses for good design range between 10 and 20 percent. Now areas with a central water system that were zoned for 20-acre zoning—with 5 units per 100 acres—could be entitled with up to 100 units. In addition, Teton County’s PUD and subdivision regulations allowed the sale of lots before infrastructure installment, which provided a huge incentive for speculative development.

After the 2008 market crash, some owners of incomplete developments began looking for ways to restructure their distressed subdivisions. In 2010, Targhee Hill Estates approached the county with a proposal to replat their partially built resort (figure 3). At the time, however, there was no local ordinance, state statute, or legal process that would permit the replatting of an expired development.

The Teton County Valley Advocates for Responsible Development (VARD) stepped in and petitioned the county to create a process to encourage the redesign of distressed subdivisions and facilitate replatting. VARD realized that a plat redesign could reduce intrusion into sensitive natural areas of the county, reduce governmental costs associated with scattered development, and potentially reduce the number of vacant lots by working with landowners and developers to expedite changes to recorded plats.

On November 22, 2010, the Board of County Commissioners unanimously adopted a replatting ordinance that would allow the inexpensive and quick replatting of subdivisions, PUDs, and recorded development agreements. The ordinance created a solution-oriented process that allows Teton County to work with developers, landowners, lenders, and other stakeholders to untangle complicated projects with multiple ownership interests and oftentimes millions of dollars in infrastructure.

The ordinance first classifies the extent of any changes proposed by a replat into four categories: 1) major increase in scale and impact, 2) minor increase in scale and impact, 3) major decrease in scale and impact, 4) minor decrease in scale and impact. Any increases in impact may require additional public hearings and studies, whereas these requirements and agency review are waived (where possible) for decreases in impact. In addition, the ordinance waives the unnecessary duplication of studies and analyses that may have been required as part of the initial plat application and approval. Teton County also waived its fees for processing replat applications.

The first success story was the replatting of Canyon Creek Ranch Planned Unit Development, finalized in June 2013. More than 23 miles from city services, Canyon Creek Ranch was originally approved in 2009 as a 350-lot ranch-style resort on roughly 2,700 acres including approximately 25 commercial lots, a horse arena, and a lodge. After extensive negotiations between the Canyon Creek development team and the Teton County Planning Commission staff, the developer proposed a replat that dramatically scaled back the footprint and impact of this project to include only 21 lots over the 2,700 acre property. For the developer, this new design reduces the price tag for infrastructure by 97 percent, from $24 million to roughly $800,000, enabling the property to remain in the conservation reserve program and creating a source of revenue on it while reducing the property tax liability. The reduced scale and impact of this new design will help preserve this critical habitat and maintain the rural landscape, which is a public benefit to the general community.

Conclusion

While recovery from the most recent boom and bust cycle is nearly complete in some areas of the country, other communities will be impacted by vacant lots and distressed subdivisions well into the future. Future real estate booms will also inevitably result in new busts, and vulnerable communities can build a solid foundation of policies, laws, and programs now to minimize new problems stemming from the excess entitlement of land. Communities and others involved in real estate development would be well-served by ensuring they have mechanisms in place to adapt and adjust to evolving market conditions. For jurisdictions already struggling with distressed subdivisions, a willingness to reconsider past approvals and projects and to acknowledge problems is an essential ingredient to success. Communities that are able to serve as effective facilitators as well as regulators, as demonstrated in the case studies presented here, will be best prepared to prevent and then respond and treat distressed subdivisions and any problems that may arise from excess development entitlements.

For More Tools and Recommendations

This article was adapted from a new Policy Focus Report from the Lincoln Institute, Arrested Developments: Combating Zombie Subdivisions and Other Excess Entitlements, by Jim Holway with Don Elliott and Anna Trentadue. For more detailed information—including best practices, policy recommendations, and a how-to guide for communities dealing with excess entitlements—download the full Policy Focus Report or order a print copy. Additional information is available on the companion website (www.ReshapingDevelopment.org).

About the Authors

Jim Holway, Ph.D., FAICP, directs Western Lands and Communities at the Sonoran Institute in Phoenix, Arizona. He also is a local elected official, representing Maricopa County on the Central Arizona Water Conservation District.

Don Elliott, FAICP, is a land use lawyer, city planner, and the director of Clarion Associates in Denver, Colorado.

Anna Trentadue is the staff attorney for Valley Advocates for Responsible Development in Driggs, Idaho.

Resources

Burger, Bruce and Randy Carpenter. 2010. Rural Real Estate Markets and Conservation Development in the Intermountain West. Working paper. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.

Elliott, Don. 2010. Premature Subdivisions and What to Do About Them. Working paper. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.

Preston, Gabe. 2010. The Fiscal Impacts of Development on Vacant Rural Subdivision Lots in Teton County, Idaho. Fiscal impact study. Teton County, ID: Sonoran Institute.

Sonoran Institute. Reshaping Development Patterns. PFR companion website www.ReshapingDevelopment.org

Sonoran Institute. Successful Communities On-Line Toolkit information exchange. www.SCOTie.org

Trentadue, Anna. 2012. Addressing Excess Development Entitlements: Lessons Learned In Teton County, ID. Working paper. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.

Trentadue, Anna and Chris Lundberg. 2011. Subdivision in the Intermountain West: A Review and Analysis of State Enabling Authority, Case Law, and Potential Tools for Dealing with Zombie Subdivisions and Obsolete Development Entitlements in Arizona, Colorado, Idaho, Montana, New Mexico, Nevada, Utah, and Wyoming. Working paper. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.

Valley Advocates for Responsible Development. www.tetonvalleyadvocates.org

A medida que crece el interés por vivir en las ciudades, el costo de las propiedades residenciales en muchos mercados de moda se ha ido por las nubes. Según el Centro Conjunto para Estudios de la Vivienda (Joint Center for Housing Studies o JCHS, 2015), en 2014 la tasa de viviendas vacantes en el mercado de alquiler alcanzó su mínimo en dos décadas; el precio de alquiler aumentó en 91 de 93 áreas metropolitanas estudiadas, y el índice de precios al consumidor para los contratos de alquiler se incrementó el doble de la tasa de inflación, hasta un 10 por ciento o más en Denver, San José, Honolulu y San Francisco.

A pesar de una interrupción debida a la crisis hipotecaria, los precios de las viviendas a la venta también han seguido aumentando, a menudo más allá del alcance de los compradores potenciales (Olick 2014); en Washington D.C., la mediana del valor de la vivienda casi se triplicó entre 2000 y 2013 (Oh et al. 2015). Cuando los activistas para el derecho a la vivienda comienzan a buscar herramientas efectivas para evitar el desplazamiento de las familias de bajos ingresos fuera de los barrios en proceso de aburguesamiento y crear comunidades inclusivas, muchos recurren a los fideicomisos de suelo comunitario (recuadro 1) como manera de ayudar a construir un inventario de viviendas permanentemente asequibles.

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Recuadro 1: El modelo de fideicomiso de suelo comunitario

Bajo el modelo de fideicomiso de suelo comunitario (CLT, por su sigla en inglés), una organización controlada por la comunidad retiene la propiedad de una parcela de suelo, y vende o alquila viviendas en dicho suelo a familias de bajos ingresos. En contrapartida a precios inferiores a los del mercado, los compradores aceptan restricciones de reventa, de modo que las viviendas sigan siendo económicas para los compradores subsiguientes, permitiendo al mismo tiempo a los dueños acumular algo de patrimonio neto. El fideicomiso de suelo comunitario también prepara a los compradores para adquirir la propiedad, les ofrece apoyo en sus problemas de financiamiento, y gestiona las reventas y las viviendas de alquiler.

De esta manera, el fideicomiso permite a más familias ser propietarias de una casa y apoya a los residentes que quieren comprometerse con sus barrios a largo plazo. En las áreas que se están aburguesando, ofrecen una manera efectiva para que las familias de bajos ingresos mantengan una participación en el barrio, porque aceptan un subsidio único inicial (que puede provenir de diversas fuentes, frecuentemente incluyendo programas públicos como el Programa de Sociedades de Inversión HOME o los Subsidios en Bloque para Desarrollo Comunitario) que queda ligado al edificio, manteniendo el bajo precio de las unidades a lo largo del tiempo sin necesidad de aportaciones adicionales de dinero público. En los mercados de vivienda débiles, también son beneficiosos (Shelterforce 2012), al proporcionar educación en materia financiera para reducir la cantidad de ejecuciones hipotecarias, mejorar el mantenimiento del barrio y mantener una tasa de ocupación estable. En 2009, en el auge de la crisis de ejecuciones hipotecarias, la probabilidad de que los préstamos de la Asociación de Banqueros Hipotecarios (MBA, por su sigla en inglés) se encontraran en el proceso de ejecución hipotecaria era 8,2 veces mayor que para los préstamos de fideicomisos de suelos comunitarios (CLT), a pesar de que los préstamos de los CLT se habían efectuado de manera uniforme a hogares de bajos ingresos (Thaden, Rosenberg 2010) mientras que los préstamos MBA incluían todos los segmentos de ingresos. De las poquísimas casas de un CLT que completaron el proceso de ejecución hipotecaria, la cartera del CLT no perdió ninguna.

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De forma similar a las corporaciones de desarrollo comunitario (community development corporations o CDC), muchos CLT surgieron de organizaciones vecinales de base. La organización comunitaria tradicional (a diferencia del concepto más amplio de “sensibilización comunitaria”) crea una base empoderada de residentes para determinar por si mismos lo que necesitan y se movilizan para lograrlo; como frente común, estos individuos están en mejores condiciones para contrarrestar a los opositores corporativos o gubernamentales y otras formas de poder institucional. La colaboración estratégica y la fortaleza numérica son esenciales para la formación exitosa de un CLT. Pero las destrezas requeridas para organizarse políticamente alrededor de problemas locales son muy distintas a las requeridas para administrar propiedades inmobiliarias. Si bien hacen falta ambas destrezas para implementar y sustentar un CLT, la adquisición de estas competencias centrales bajo un mismo techo puede obstaculizar la capacidad de una organización vecinal para dedicarse a su misión fundamental o alcanzarla.

¿Cómo han pilotado las organizaciones comunitarias que crearon un CLT el desafío de adquirir dos juegos de destrezas aparentemente incompatibles? Examinamos aquí la experiencia de cinco CLT consolidados de distintas regiones del país para ver cómo superaron este desafío y fueron modificando su enfoque a consecuencia de ello. Desde Boston a Los Ángeles, los organizadores comunitarios enfrentaron una amplia gama de problemas, desde barrios con altas tasas de suelo vacante y casi sin mercados de vivienda, a áreas de gran movimiento donde la preocupación principal era el desplazamiento de familias de bajos ingresos. Sin embargo, estas cinco organizaciones tuvieron razones notablemente similares para iniciar un fideicomiso de suelo comunitario: cada uno de los directores de estos CLT señaló que la comunidad quería controlar el suelo para impedir no sólo que los residentes perdieran una casa sino también que no pudieran comprar una por falta de recursos. Incluso los CLT que comenzaron en mercados de vivienda débiles estaban ubicados cerca del centro o cerca de distritos universitarios u otras áreas populares, y reconocieron la posibilidad de desplazamientos a medida que las condiciones de sus barrios mejoraran. Todos señalaron que era esencial contar con una visión comunitaria clara para que un CLT tenga éxito, aunque algunos grupos asumen la responsabilidad directa de crear e implementar dicha visión, mientras que otros se dedican a realizar trabajos por una vivienda en nombre de una organización matriz encargada de orientar la visión más amplia. Las formas de organizar y desarrollar las viviendas también variaron, pero todos estuvieron de acuerdo en que estas dos actividades pueden ser difíciles de combinar.

Dudley Neighbors Inc., Boston, Massachusetts

La organización más antigua en nuestro estudio, Dudley Street Neighborhood Initiative (DSNI) o Iniciativa del Barrio de Dudley Street, se formó en un mal momento para el mercado en la década de 1980 para combatir el desecho ilegal de residuos en grandes extensiones de suelos que quedaron vacantes a consecuencia de una ola de incendios intencionados. La ciudad estaba proponiendo un plan de ordenamiento territorial para la zona sin tener en cuenta la opinión de los residentes, y los miembros de la comunidad respondieron creando DSNI para reclamar el derecho de la comunidad a participar de las decisiones sobre el uso del suelo en su zona. Conquistaron este derecho y, por medio de DSNI, decidieron que un CLT era la mejor herramienta para ayudar a implementar la visión de la comunidad. “Muchas veces, los grupos quieren formar un CLT creyendo que resolverá mágicamente los problemas de un barrio”, dice Harry Smith, director del CLT de DSNI, Dudley Neighbors Inc. (DNI) u Organizaciön de Vecinos de Dudley. “Pero primero decimos: ‘¿Han plasmado una visión de cómo se debería desarrollar su comunidad, y pueden explicar cómo encaja un CLT en dicha visión?’”

DNI, fundado en 1984, es una organización independiente, pero mantiene estrechos vínculos con su organización matriz. Los dos grupos comparten personal, y DSNI nombra a la mayoría de los integrantes de la Junta Directiva del CLT. El CLT es responsable solamente de proporcionar viviendas asequibles y del control comunitario del suelo, y deja a DSNI la tarea prioritaria de organización y planificación comunitaria. Ni DSNI ni DNI llevan a cabo el desarrollo inmobiliario directamente, sino que se asocian con emprendedores locales de viviendas sociales para ello.

Debido a su larga historia y relaciones ya establecidas, DSNI se dedica menos a actividades de lucha política que en sus días iniciales. Pero no renuncia a ello, de ser necesario. De hecho, Smith señala que mantener un CLT puede ser una fortaleza política única. Cuando DSNI se organiza para determinar el destino de una parcela particular de terreno, “el hecho de tener un fideicomiso de suelo nos da un nivel de impacto adicional”, dice.

Fideicomiso de suelo comunitario Sawmill, Albuquerque, Nuevo México

El CLT Sawmill, ubicado en Albuquerque, Nuevo México, se inició en 1996 cuando, después de una década de realizar actividades de organización comunitaria, los residentes de bajos ingresos se unieron para luchar contra una fábrica vecina que contaminaba el aire y amenazaba su salud. Querían ejercer control sobre el uso futuro del espacio. Después de que los líderes asistieron a una conferencia para aprender más sobre los fideicomisos de suelo comunitario, mantuvieron una serie de reuniones sobre este tema. Aunque algunos residentes mostraron preocupación por no poseer el suelo en el modelo del CLT, un veterano de la comunidad les recordó que de todas maneras no eran dueños de su propiedad ahora, ya fuera porque estaban de alquiler o porque no tenían los recursos para controlar lo que ocurría en su propio suelo. El exdirector ejecutivo Wade Patterson dice: “El hecho de que el objetivo específico estuviera orientado a controlar los costos de la vivienda calmó las inquietudes sobre el aburguesamiento de la comunidad y el desplazamiento de los residentes. El hecho de conseguir viviendas, y no otra fábrica, fue algo indiscutible”.

El CLT Sawmill fue creado como una organización independiente dedicada al desarrollo inmobiliario, a la administración y a la gestión de propiedades. Es uno de los mayores CLT del país, con 17 hectáreas, e incluye viviendas en propiedad, en alquiler y para personas de la tercera edad. Recientemente ganó una licitación de la ciudad de Albuquerque para revitalizar un viejo motel en un nuevo barrio de la ciudad, y el CLT está tratando de resolver cómo introducirse en esa comunidad de manera respetuosa.

Las asociaciones de vecinos de Albuquerque que se encuentran en el área de influencia de Sawmill, incluyendo el Consejo Asesor de Sawmill, que lanzó el CLT, se enfocan en la “construcción de la comunidad” por medio de eventos culturales, según Patterson. El CLT respalda la organización vecinal ofreciendo espacio para reunirse en uno de sus edificios, además de otros tipos de apoyo. “Nuestro objetivo no es liderar sino ofrecer apoyo manteniéndonos detrás”, dice Patterson.

Fideicomiso de suelo comunitario de San Francisco, California

El fideicomiso de suelo comunitario de San Francisco (SFCLT) fue creado en 2003, en un momento en que el mercado inmobiliario de la ciudad era uno de los más activos del país, y los residentes de bajos ingresos estaban preocupados por los altísimos alquileres y desalojos ilegales para convertir las propiedades en condominios. Los organizadores vecinales estaban buscando un modelo que pudiera prevenir los desalojos y dar a los residentes de menores ingresos un mayor control sobre su situación de vivienda.

El CLT es una entidad independiente, pero mantiene una relación estrecha con los organizadores vecinales que lo fundaron. Cuando sus grupos asociados se organizan para impedir desalojos o conversiones a condominios de un edificio en riesgo de ello (generalmente edificios de departamentos pequeños), SFCLT hace de comprador para preservar el edificio y después lo convierte en una cooperativa en suelo propiedad del CLT. SFCLT cuenta con personal que tiene experiencia inmobiliaria, pero no construye edificios nuevos; todas las obras de rehabilitación se contratan por fuera. Gestiona los aspectos financieros de la adquisición y la conversión, la administración del suelo y la capacitación y respaldo para ayudar a los residentes a formar una junta directiva y administrar el gobierno de la cooperativa. “Los grupos vecinales interesados en temas de vivienda nos remiten a todos los residentes necesitados; nosotros somos la única organización en temas de vivienda que puede ayudar a estabilizar un edificio de departamentos de varias unidades comprándolo”, dice la directora Tracy Parent. SFCLT organiza a sus miembros para apoyar los temas más amplios promovidos por sus socios de la coalición, pero no “inicia las actividades organizativas” sobre estos temas, según Parent.

T.R.U.S.T. South LA, Los Ángeles, California

Cuando se formó T.R.U.S.T. South LA en 2005, los barrios objetivos estaban llenos de lotes vacantes y viviendas deterioradas, mientras que las áreas circundantes estaban amenazadas por la presión del desarrollo inmobiliario. Si bien los fundadores —Esperanza Community Housing Corporation, Strategic Actions of a Just Economy y Abode Communities— pensaron inicialmente en crear un CLT principalmente como una herramienta de vivienda, han asumido un papel más amplio en la implementación de una visión comunitaria. “Originalmente, nos constituimos como un grupo de adquisición de suelos. Después, nuestros miembros quisieron organizarse”, dice la directora ejecutiva Sandra McNeill. El CLT se ha organizado, por ejemplo, contra el propietario malintencionado que estaba tratando de desalojar a los residentes de un edificio que había dejado deteriorar a propósito para aprovecharse del vencimiento de las restricciones en el monto del alquiler de las viviendas de Sección 8. También se ha organizado para recaudar fondos para llevar a cabo mejoras en el transporte y en los espacios verdes en su barrio, y ha participado en coaliciones para el apoyo de políticas municipales más amplias, como, por ejemplo, el aumento de financiamiento para viviendas sociales.

El grupo se describe ahora como “una iniciativa comunitaria para estabilizar los barrios situados al sur del centro de Los Ángeles”. T.R.U.S.T. South LA es una organización independiente que se considera parte del equipo de desarrollo de proyectos de vivienda, y se asocia con otros para comprar, financiar y construir o rehabilitar viviendas.

Aun cuando T.R.U.S.T. South LA realiza muchas tareas de organización, casi todo su trabajo de política se realiza en colaboración con otros grupos, incluyendo sus socios fundadores. A los emprendedores que se dedican a viviendas sociales, en general no les gusta correr riesgos”, dice McNeill. “Pueden involucrarse en actividades políticas para garantizar que se proporcione financiamiento para viviendas sociales, pero no más que eso”.

Fideicomiso de suelo Community Justice, Filadelfia, Pensilvania

El Fideicomiso de Suelo Community Justice (Justicia Comunitaria) de Filadelfia se constituyó en el noreste de Filadelfia en 2010, cuando el mercado inmobiliario estaba atravesando fuertes altibajos. Aunque el barrio estaba plagado de propiedades vacantes y abandonadas, estaba rodeado por todos lados de florecientes mercados inmobiliarios, y parecía probable que estos crecientes precios y presiones inmobiliarias se propagaran. El Proyecto de Revitalización Comunitaria de Mujeres (Women’s Community Revitalization Project o WCRP), junto con una coalición de organizaciones cívicas locales, realizaron docenas de reuniones públicas para ayudar a los miembros de la comunidad a comprender qué significaba la formación de un fideicomiso de suelo comunitario y explorar sus inquietudes sobre las restricciones a la reventa. Los asistentes votaron a favor de formar un CLT.

El CLT Community Justice se constituyó como un programa del WCRP, que cuenta con conocimientos propios de desarrollo inmobiliario y organización comunitaria, incluido un departamento completo dedicado a estas actividades.

Pero la directora ejecutiva del WCRP, Nora Lichtash, advierte: “A veces pierdes algunas relaciones, cuando realizas actividades de organización comunitaria… A ciertas personas no le gusta que les presionen para que haga lo correcto”. En efecto, el WCRP aparentemente presionó tanto a una concejala local sobre ciertos temas que ella se negó a dar al CLT el suelo vacante que este fideicomiso esperaba conseguir para su primer proyecto inmobiliario. Al final, sin embargo, la concejala ayudó al grupo a establecer un banco de suelo para toda la ciudad (Feldstein 2013–14), que promueve algunos de los mismos principios que el fideicomiso de suelo.

A pesar de tensiones potenciales como estas, Lichtash cree que las funciones del CLT y de la organización comunitaria están muy interrelacionadas. Es importante recordar que la organización comunitaria y la construcción de viviendas sociales van unidas”, dice. Las personas que aportan fondos creen que hay que hacer una cosa o la otra, pero no es bueno separar el CLT de las actividades de organización comunitaria. Uno está construyendo capacidad para los trabajos presentes pero también para los trabajos futuros. Cuando uno se organiza, se hace respetar, porque tiene el poder del pueblo”.

Desarrollar o no desarrollar: Una decisión importante

El desarrollo de viviendas sociales es un asunto complicado y caro que ninguna organización comunitaria debería tomarse a la ligera si está pensando en iniciar un fideicomiso de suelo comunitario. “Si te dedicas al desarrollo inmobiliario, tendrás menos tiempo para las actividades de organización comunitaria, que son acumulativas. Para formar una organización vecinal realmente representativa, hace falta mucho tiempo y una gran dosis de sacrificio. Si tomas el camino más fácil, corres el riesgo de poner en peligro gran parte del poder que has construido a través de los años”.

La experiencia de Boston, por ejemplo, comienza con una moraleja. DSNI intervino cuando el emprendedor original del primer proyecto del CLT se echó atrás. Fue “traumático” para el personal y la junta, dice Smith. Nos tomó muchísimo tiempo y It distracted DSNI from its core functions.” distrajo a DSNI de sus funciones principales”.

La idea de controlar los recursos de desarrollo y tener acceso a las cuotas del emprendedor inmobiliario puede seducir a los grupos de base, dice Lichtash, de WCRP. Pero se debe proceder con extremo cuidado. Convertirse en un emprendedor inmobiliario puede enturbiar las aguas”, dice. En estos negocios millonarios, tienes que poner atención en todos los detalles. Y eso te aleja del trabajo educativo”.

El trabajo inmobiliario es muy duro y especulativo”, continúa Lichtash. Crees que estás consiguiendo una cosa y en realidad consigues otra. Yo le digo a la gente que las primeras asociaciones deben durar bastante tiempo. Es difícil mantener contentos tanto a los inquilinos como a las fuentes de financiamiento”.

Patterson del CLT Sawmill está de acuerdo con esta opinión, y agrega que es particularmente difícil “cumplir con todas las fechas de vencimiento y la presentación de informes sobre las necesidades de financiamiento [del desarrollo inmobiliario]. Siempre me sorprendo de la sobrecarga de tareas administrativas que esto requiere”. También aconseja que si no cuadran los números, “lo importante es saber que puedes retirarte de un proyecto si fuera necesario”.

McNeill de T.R.U.S.T. South LA dice: “Sin duda, el desarrollo inmobiliario tiene su propio lenguaje. Es complejo. Las organizaciones sin fines de lucro que se dedican a esto tienen grandes presupuestos y en general también una cantidad considerable de personal. Tengo mucho respeto por las destrezas que hacen falta para sacar adelante estos negocios. Se requieren unas destrezas muy distintas de lo que hacemos nosotros”.

Otra consideración es que no es fácil actualmente participar en una industria como la de las viviendas sociales. En el entorno de financiamiento actual, muchos de los subsidios que los CLT han utilizado tradicionalmente para desarrollar y administrar sus unidades se han reducido mucho, y es difícil encontrar hipotecas para los compradores potenciales de viviendas. Dice McNeill: “La industria de la vivienda ha sufrido enormes cambios. La realidad es que no hay una oportunidad en la actualidad para que una nueva organización se dedique a este negocio. No cabe duda de que este no es el momento”.

Incluso la administración continua de un CLT requiere un tipo de relación con los residentes distinta de la que tendría un organizador comunitario. El cobro de las cuotas del emprendedor y de los alquileres puede afectar la relación con los residentes y la dinámica de poder”, dice Smith de DNI. Uno es responsable tanto ante los inquilinos como ante los propietarios de tu comunidad, así que se producen tensiones”, según Lichtash de WCRP. Como comenta Parent de SFCLT: “Los organizadores comunitarios con frecuencia pintan los problemas como claras opciones morales”, pero cuando administras una propiedad, “hay matices”.

Con la mirada en la meta

Una vez que un grupo comunitario ha determinado que un CLT es la herramienta apropiada para mantener viviendas asequibles para los residentes locales, deberían hacerse las siguientes preguntas: ¿Quién ejercerá el liderazgo para implementar la visión más amplia? ¿Existe ya una organización que esté comprometida y sea capaz de hacerlo, o hay que crear una? ¿Hay grupos comunitarios que ya tengan experiencia en desarrollo inmobiliario y acceso a financiamiento, y que puedan asociarse con un CLT o incluso integrarlo en sus actividades? ¿Cómo puede el nuevo CLT asociarse y apoyar el trabajo de la organización comunitaria, en vez de distraer su labor?

Muchos CLT nuevos están siguiendo el camino de grupos como DSNI y T.R.U.S.T. South LA, estableciendo organizaciones separadas para gestionar las funciones de administración y la propiedad de suelo, y utilizando después la capacidad de emprendedores de viviendas sociales ya existentes por medio de alianzas. Si bien es cierto que cada localidad es distinta, este método parece ser un buen punto de partida para estos grupos, sobre todo si quieren conservar su energía para realizar la importante tarea que originalmente se propusieron: luchar por formar comunidades dinámicas y equitativas.

Miriam Axel-Lute es editora de Shelterforce, una revista dedicada al campo de desarrollo comunitario. Ha escrito extensamente sobre temas de organización comunitaria y fideicomisos de suelo comunitario.

Dana Hawkins-Simons es una galardonada periodista que ha publicado innovadoras investigaciones en U.S. News & World Report. También fue directora de Iniciativa de Oportunidades de Vivienda en el Instituto Nacional de la Vivienda.

Referencias

Beckwith, Dave, con Cristina Lopez. 1997. “Community Organizing: People Power from the Grassroots.” http://comm-org.wisc.edu/papers97/beckwith.htm

Feldstein, Jill. 2013/14. “Winning a Land Bank We Can Trust.” Shelterforce. Otoño/Invierno 2013/14. www.shelterforce.org/article/3910/winning_a_land_bank_we_can_trust2/

Horwitz, Staci. 2011. “It’s All About Choice.” Shelterforce. www.shelterforce.org/article/2313/its_all_about_choice/

Joint Center for Housing Studies. 2015. State of the Nation’s Housing 2015. Harvard University. www.jchs.harvard.edu/research/state_nations_housing

Oh, Seunghoon, Josh Silver, Annelise Osterberg, y Jaclyn Tules. 2015. Does Nonprofit Housing Development Preserve Neighborhood Diversity? An Investigation into the Interaction Between Affordable Housing Development and Neighborhood Change. Manna, Inc. www.mannadc.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/07/Final_Neighborhood_Impact_Analysis_7_1.pdf

Olick, Diana. 2014. “Housing Still Too Expensive Despite Positive Signs.” CNBC.com, 10 de julio. www.cnbc.com/2014/07/10/housing-still-too-expensive-despite-positive-signs.html

Shelterforce. 2012. “What’s the Point of Shared-Equity Homeownership in Weak Market Areas?” Shelterforce. www.shelterforce.org/images/uploads/theanswer171-2.pdf

Schutz, Aaron y Marie G. Sandy. 2011. “What Isn’t Community Organizing.” En Collective Action for Social Change: An Introduction to Community Organizing, London: Palgrave McMillan. pp. 31–44.

Thaden, Emily y Greg Rosenberg. 2010. “Outperforming the Market: Delinquency and Foreclosure Rates in Community Land Trusts.” Lincoln Institute of Land Policy. www.lincolninst.edu/pubs/dl/1846_1154_LLA10102%20Foreclosure%20Rates.pdf

Because many brownfield sites are located in areas with depressed property values, the cost of remediation and redevelopment can be greater than the expected resale value. These sites, referred to here as low-to-no market value brownfields, are rarely addressed under current policies and programs. Rather, the current practice of many brownfield redevelopment projects is to select only the most marketable sites for remediation and redevelopment, essentially perpetuating the age-old “creaming” process. Private and public developers’ avoidance of the lowest market value parcels typically excludes disadvantaged neighborhoods from programs aimed at redeveloping brownfields and creates the potential for widening existing inequalities between better-off and worse-off neighborhoods.

The Role of Land Banks

In a recently completed project supported by the Lincoln Institute, I examined the barriers to brownfield redevelopment and focused on promising approaches for improving the prospects of the least marketable sites. The specific research goal was to identify land transfer procedures and processes through which land bank authorities and other community land development entities would be willing to receive vacant brownfield property that is tax-delinquent and environmentally contaminated, and then arrange for its remediation and sale.

A local land bank authority is typically a nonprofit entity established by either a city or county to address the problems of urban blight and to promote redevelopment. The original motivation for this project was to seek a solution to the problem of land banks being unwilling to accept some tax-delinquent brownfield properties due to fears of becoming liable for the contamination on these properties. Removing that barrier improves the prospects for promoting productive land redevelopment and reducing property vacancies to enhance a community’s economic development.

Over the course of this project, the nature of the original problem shifted in a positive way when recent federal guidelines clarified that land bank authorities that are part of a local government and acquire brownfield properties involuntarily (e.g., because they are tax-delinquent) are not liable for any contamination. With removal of this legal liability, it became clear that the real problem land banks face in taking on tax-delinquent, low-to-no market value properties is a lack of financial resources to arrange for their subsequent remediation, sale or redevelopment.

For example, the Atlanta/Fulton Country Landbank operates on a model of clearing title on properties to allow for private redevelopment, since it does not have the financial resources to act as the redeveloper itself. The Landbank, like most of the public or quasi-public entities we have identified as engaging in brownfield redevelopment, is promoting a market-based, creaming process of redevelopment. While there is validity in employing such processes, to do so exclusively poses a serious public policy issue. It serves to widen the inequality between the most depressed neighborhoods, where the low-to-no market value properties are most likely to be found, and the neighborhoods experiencing revitalization and brownfield cleanup.

Barriers to Brownfield Redevelopment

Our review of current land bank activity in other cities has revealed that, overall, land bank authorities do not take a pro-active stance on brownfield redevelopment for several reasons: operational limitations, fear of legal liability, and/or lack of funds to cover remediation costs. Our national search yielded only two exceptions: the Cleveland Land Bank and the Louisville/Jefferson County Land Bank Authority. But of these two, only the Louisville/Jefferson County Land Bank has pursued brownfield properties actively and has made the required changes in its by-laws to effectively acquire, remediate and redevelop contaminated properties. The Cleveland Land Bank experience in brownfield redevelopment was with a donated parcel that was suspected of being contaminated.

Operational Limitations

The two major operational requirements that currently deter land banks from entering into brownfield redevelopment are the need to identify an end user for a property before the property can be acquired by the land bank and the limited scope of activity for which the land banks were established originally. For example, the Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard land banks in Massachusetts were established for conservation purposes; they rarely deal with properties that would be considered brownfields, although their organizational structure makes them ideal candidates to do so.

Fear of Legal Liability

As with any owner of contaminated property, land banks are concerned about the legal liability associated with brownfields. Although most state volunteer cleanup programs offer liability exemptions for municipalities, the issue of federal liability still has to be addressed when land banks choose to acquire contaminated properties.

Federal legal liability arises from the Comprehensive Environmental Response, Compensation and Liability Act (CERCLA), also known as Superfund, but both federal and state governments have developed programs and guidelines aimed at eliminating that barrier. As a point of clarification, it is not the intent of federal or state programs to release responsible parties from their legal obligation to clean up property that they have contaminated, but, rather, to facilitate brownfield remediation and redevelopment by reducing the fear of unwarranted legal liability.

Landowners who are not responsible for contaminating the property, who did not know, and had no reason to suspect contaminants were present on the property are not liable under CERCLA sections 107(b) and 101(35). This is often referred to as the “innocent landowner defense.” Sections 101(20)(D) and 101(35)(A) protect federal, state and local governments from owner/operator liability if they acquire contaminated property involuntarily as a function of performing their governmental duties, including acquisition due to abandonment, tax delinquency, foreclosure, or through seizure or forfeiture authority. This process was further clarified by the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) in June 1997 to facilitate the work of state and local brownfield redevelopment programs.

For land bank authorities that are a part of local government, the above-mentioned program should protect the acquisition of contaminated properties through the land bank’s normal operational functions. However, any land bank seeking to acquire contaminated properties should contact its regional EPA office for further legal clarification and assistance with the redevelopment process.

Lack of Funds for Remediation Costs

The often costly remediation process is another significant problem for land banks seeking to redevelop brownfields. Even when the mission of the land bank is to eliminate blight and spur revitalization, both of which are directly related to brownfield reuse, limited budgets prevent interested and willing land banks from acquiring brownfields for remediation and redevelopment. Therefore, while the land bank authority could be helpful in forgiving the property taxes owed on the parcel as an incentive for reuse, the property’s redevelopment potential is still thwarted by its having little-to-no market desirability.

Promising Alternatives for Low-value Sites

When the focus of this research project became the identification of promising approaches for improving the redevelopment prospects of low-to-no market value brownfield sites, we began to examine different kinds of roles for land banks. These included identifying possible ways of raising revenues for land banks and other community development agencies to use in financing the remediation and redevelopment of low-to-no market value sites, and considering potential reuses of such sites, including open space, residential or commercial/industrial uses.

One alternative is found in community land trusts, which generally are private non-profit corporations in both urban and rural areas engaged in social and economic activities, such as to acquire and hold land for affordable housing development. While traditionally they have not focused on conservation issues, their model could be adapted for brownfield redevelopment efforts. One approach for solving the problem of low-to-no market value brownfields is a community land trust modeled after Boston’s Dudley Neighbors, Inc., which received from the city the power of eminent domain to acquire vacant land and buildings in its neighborhood. This strategy provides an alternative mechanism to a citywide land bank for acquiring brownfield properties, and it can be used to target geographic areas in greatest economic decline.

Another promising alternative to the traditional land bank is modeled after Scenic Hudson, an environmental advocacy organization and land trust located in Poughkeepsie, New York. It has an urban initiative to acquire, remediate and develop environmentally friendly reuses for derelict riverfront sites. Among its projects has been the redevelopment of a twelve-acre abandoned industrial waterfront for a public park, the Irvington Waterfront Park. Scenic Hudson has proven that, with cooperation from public and private organizations, land trusts can be effective vehicles for brownfield redevelopment.

The most popular form of land trust is one founded to protect natural areas and farmlands. Such land trusts most often operate at the local or regional level to conserve tracts of land that have ecological, open space, recreational or historic value. If land trusts choose to expand their conservation goals to include urban open space, they could become very helpful partners in public/private projects to create green space and parks from remediated brownfields. The Scenic Hudson land trust model specifically addresses brownfield redevelopment for the stated purpose of stemming greenfield development.

To address the needs for financing the redevelopment of low-to-no market value brownfields, the Louisville Land Bank Authority’s approach is promising. It established a fund that uses the profits from the sale of remediated brownfields to fund future remediation projects. Another possibility for raising funds for land banks is suggested by the two-percent transfer fee the state of Massachusetts authorized for its Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard land banks to purchase open space. The transfer fee idea could be adapted by land banks to create a fund for brownfield remediation.

The research project also sought to identify municipalities that did not have a specific land bank authority, but did have a municipal office or program that dealt with tax-delinquent properties and their redevelopment. Two municipalities found to be engaging in noteworthy and innovative brownfield redevelopment are Kalamazoo, Michigan, and, Emeryville, California. Kalamazoo’s brownfield pilot approach of creating brownfield redevelopment districts emphasizes community development over traditional, market-based economic development goals. The city uses stakeholder groups to design brownfield projects and to plan for redevelopment.

Emeryville has determined, through surveying its property owners and developers, that offering financial assistance for site assessment alone is not effective; it must be backed up by financial assistance for remediation. The city’s brownfield program is based on the principle that “sharing of risks should lead to sharing of rewards.” That is, if a community bears the residual risk for permitting the private sector to conduct risk-based cleanup, a portion of the private sector’s savings on remediation expenses should be shared with the community. The Emeryville approach to brownfield redevelopment also recognizes that smaller sites and projects require proportionately more loans, grants and technical assistance than do larger sites and projects.

Conclusion

At the present time, there is a paucity of programs and strategies to address tax-delinquent, low-to-no market value brownfield properties in marginal urban neighborhoods. If this deficiency persists, the current brownfield redevelopment movement will likely lead to a widening of intraurban inequalities. If municipalities, land bank authorities, and community development organizations will recognize the need for, and move towards, promoting more equitable brownfield redevelopment, the approaches presented in this article hold promise for correcting this deficiency and preventing wider inequalities. Further, such actions could remove potential polution sources and health hazards from the neighborhood, provide much-needed open space, and hold the remediated property until the surrounding area increases in value and the site can be redeveloped through traditional market processes.

References

City of Emeryville, Project Status Report, Emeryville Brownfields Pilot Project. Emeryville, California. November 1998. See also

Rosenberg, Steve. “Working Where the Grass Isn’t Greener: Land Trusts in Urban Areas.” Land Trust Alliance Exchange. Winter: 5-9, 1998.

U.S. EPA. Handbook of Tools for Managing Federal Superfund Liability Risks at Brownfields and Other Sites. Office of Enforcement and Compliance Assurance. November 1998.

Nancey Green Leigh, AICP, is associate professor of city planning in the Graduate City and Regional Planning Program at the Georgia Institute of Technology. She teaches and conducts research on urban and regional development, industrial restructuring, local economic development planning, and brownfield redevelopment.

Una versión más actualizada de este artículo está disponible como parte del capítulo 4 del libro Perspectivas urbanas; Temas críticos en políticas de suelo de América Latina.

Brasilia, la capital de Brasil, fue inaugurada a principios de los años 1960 como una “nueva ciudad” que daría comienzo a una era distinta para las metrópolis en América Latina y que demostraría cómo el gobierno hacía un uso eficaz de la tierra en aras de un crecimiento urbano planificado. Tal propósito se servía de dos instrumentos básicos: un control normativo del uso de la tierra basado en un plan general diseñado por Lucio Costa y el gobierno como propietario de las tierras de la capital federal, lo que permitiría que ésta fuera planificada sin los tipos de restricciones y conflictos que normalmente surgen cuando la tierra está en manos privadas. Sin embargo, tres décadas y media más tarde, los problemas asociados con el desarrollo urbano en Brasilia no se diferencian sustancialmente de los que padecen otras ciudades grandes de América Latina.

Falta de visión para la tenencia de la tierra y padrinazgo administrativo

Brasilia se presenta como un ejemplo único de la gestión de tierras urbanas en América Latina porque la responsabilidad de administrar las tierras públicas siempre ha recaído sobre el gobierno local. Sin embargo, la periferia de la ciudad ha sufrido un índice explosivo de crecimiento con un patrón concomitante de ocupación irregular de la tierra, subdivisiones ilegales y carencia de infraestructura. En Brasilia la posibilidad de dirigir el proceso de crecimiento urbano a través de una política explícita de acceso a las tierras públicas se ha visto comprometida de forma lenta e irremediable por la ocupación espontánea (e ilegal) de la tierra. Esta falta de visión en el uso de las tierras públicas suele ser disfuncional tanto para la densidad urbana como para las finanzas públicas, por lo que obstruye los esfuerzos que hace el gobierno local para proveer infraestructura a esos asentamientos irregulares.

Más aún, las influencias políticas que intervienen en el proceso de desarrollo han menoscabado en gran medida las posibilidades de manejar con eficacia la oferta de tierras públicas en Brasilia. A principios de los años 1990 el gobierno distribuyó unas 65.000 parcelas en áreas que carecían de infraestructura básica. Además de reducir las reservas de tierras públicas, este “padrinazgo de la tenencia de la tierra” generó la necesidad de encontrar otras fuentes para financiar nueva infraestructura. Dado que el principal recurso que tiene disponible la entidad de desarrollo urbano del Distrito Federal (Terracap) es la tierra misma, esta política de padrinazgo trajo como resultado la venta de otras tierras públicas para financiar la construcción de infraestructura en los asentamientos irregulares. Este círculo vicioso ha provocado graves distorsiones que la administración local actual pretende resolver usando tierras públicas como “capital” para crear una política efectiva que permita controlar los ingresos provenientes de la tenencia de la tierra y los costos urbanos.

La experiencia de Brasilia parece confirmar los argumentos de Henry George y otros de que la propiedad de tierras públicas no conduce por sí sola a un crecimiento urbano más equilibrado y equitativo socialmente. La estrategia del gobierno local actual de definir maneras de manejar el ingreso proveniente de tierras públicas para así controlar el uso de tierra urbana indica una nueva modalidad de interacción gubernamental con el mercado inmobiliario. En tal sentido, el gobierno cambia su función y deja de ser el propietario principal para convertirse en el administrador de los beneficios de la tierra.

Tierras públicas como capital de tenencia de la tierra

El principio medular de la nueva estrategia de Brasilia para administrar la equidad de la tierra es la definición de tierra pública como “capital de tenencia de la tierra”. El uso de esta tierra se somete a una serie de acciones estratégicas que transforman el capital de las tierras públicas en un factor que propicia la consolidación del complejo tecnológico del Distrito Federal. Se trata de la contraparte pública en el proceso de reconvertir el uso de la tierra en el centro de la ciudad en un instrumento de promoción social en el programa de regulación de la tenencia de la tierra: las tierras públicas se usan como activos mediante ventas, arrendamientos y asociaciones en proyectos urbanos.

La aplicación de estrategias diferenciadas para la tenencia de la tierra confiere mayor flexibilidad al gobierno para coordinar sus acciones. La búsqueda del equilibrio entre las iniciativas de índole social y otras en las que el gobierno intenta maximizar sus ingresos está cobrando la apariencia de una verdadera política de administración de tierras públicas que rompe con las anteriores prácticas de padrinazgo.

En este contexto de exploración de nuevos enfoques para el uso de tierras públicas con la finalidad de controlar el desarrollo urbano en Brasilia, el Instituto Lincoln, el Instituto de Planificación del Distrito Federal y Terracap organizaron un seminario internacional sobre gestión de ingresos provenientes de la tenencia de la tierra y costos urbanos en junio de 1998.

El programa reunió a expertos internacionales, ministros gubernamentales y administradores locales con miras a evaluar las experiencias internacionales en el uso de tierras públicas para financiar el crecimiento urbano en Europa, los Estados Unidos y América Latina. Martim Smolka del Instituto Lincoln describió las relaciones entre las operaciones del mercado inmobiliario, las regulaciones sobre el uso de la tierra y la recuperación pública de plusvalías. Alfredo Garay, arquitecto y exdirector de planificación de la ciudad de Buenos Aires, expuso las experiencias en el desarrollo de terrenos públicos en los alrededores del puerto de esa ciudad.

Bernard Frieden del Instituto de Tecnología de Massachusetts describió cómo se usan las actividades comerciales realizadas en tierras públicas en el oeste de los Estados Unidos para recaudar fondos para la educación y otros fines locales. Henk Verbrugge, director del organismo fiscal de Rotterdam y representante de Holanda ante la Asociación Internacional de Peritos, describió el sistema que tiene el país para la tenencia hereditaria, una regulación legal con la cual la tierra puede tener uso y beneficios completamente privados al tiempo que permanecen bajo control y propiedad económica de la municipalidad.

Los participantes discutieron la medida en que estas experiencias eran comparables a la situación en Brasilia y concluyeron que el éxito de varias estrategias para el uso de tierras públicas depende de la idoneidad de los proyectos específicos para la cultura empresarial del país en cuestión y las prácticas institucionales vigentes en la administración local.

The shift to a multi-racial government in South Africa is as pronounced and dramatic a transition as that of the new independent states of Central and Eastern Europe. In the past five years, South Africa has adopted a new constitution, elected a new government, redrawn state and municipal boundaries, and undertaken basic reform of its legal and political system. Land policy is central to this transformation, for “since the 1913 Natives Land Act, rights to own, rent or even share-crop land in South Africa depended upon a person’s race classification.” (1) Among the major land-related issues currently under scrutiny are property tax reform, restitution of land rights, and improvements in tenure security and access to landholding.

Land and Property Taxation

South African real property taxes take a number of forms, including “site rating,” a tax on unimproved value alone; “flat rating” on land and structures uniformly; and “composite ratings,” which tax land and improvements at different rates. Multiplicity and change are the norm, as Cape Town has recently decided to adopt site rating, Durban is considering replacement of its composite rating system with site rating, and Pretoria has introduced a temporary tax on improvements to supplement its site rating system.

The property tax in South Africa is not at present applied to rural land, although its potential extension to non-urban areas is the subject of intense debate. It is in the cities, however, that the struggle to transform the country will succeed or fail. In 1995, the urban sector accounted for about 65 percent of South Africa’s population and more than 80 percent of its GDP. Property taxes are an important source of revenue for cities to meet the cost of providing services within their newly redrawn boundaries.

These new boundaries are another index of the pace and variety of change in South Africa. Efforts to consolidate wealthy residential and commercial areas with impoverished townships and settlements have taken different forms in different regions. The central business districts of Johannesburg and Durban have been divided among several taxing jurisdictions that extend beyond their city limits. By contrast, the most of Cape Town’s business and residential regions were combined this summer with a set of neighboring townships in a new administrative region. It consists of 19 former administrations consolidated into 7, involving a transfer of more than 10,000 municipal staff and many assets. These measures have extremely important political and fiscal implications, bringing together as they do residential areas with living standards equal to or even surpassing European norms and settlements without electricity, paved roads or running water.

From a land policy perspective, perhaps the most dramatic legacy of past racial policies is the imbalance between white and non-white landownership. Under apartheid, 87 percent of the country’s land was reserved for white residents, who in 1995 constituted only 13 percent of South Africa’s population. Under these circumstances, property taxation takes on special importance as a potential means for expanding access to the land market. Roy Bahl and Johannes Linn have written:

[A]n equity argument may be at the heart of the matter: urban land prices are frequently so high that low-income groups cannot afford to purchase land…. To the extent that the revenue from property taxes is capitalized into lower current land values (since the tax reduces the expected future private yield on the land), it partially expropriates landownership rights from the present owner and also constitutes a loan to future owners, who can now acquire the land at a lower price but will have to pay property taxes in the future. If low-income groups cannot buy land because they lack liquidity and access to capital markets, property taxation may be one of the policy instruments to improve their access to landownership. (2)

Tax Collections and Tax Revolts

The government faces the challenge of reversing a “culture of nonpayment” for municipal services among township residents. During the apartheid era, the African National Congress (ANC) encouraged its supporters to refuse payment of water and utility charges as a means of contesting the legitimacy of the state-sponsored black local authorities. The resulting arrears were a major financial burden on all levels of government. Now the ANC seeks to promote voluntary payment for these same services, and as well as payment of real property taxes by those who now are able to hold title to their property.

Ironically, one tax protest that received wide publicity took the form of a property tax revolt in one of the nation’s wealthiest white residential areas, the Sandton suburb of Johannesburg. When property tax rates doubled and tripled there in 1996, many local property owners withheld payment in protest. This situation illustrates one of the most paradoxical aspects of the fiscal challenge to the new South Africa: the need to redress the enormous imbalance in resources across racial groups while commanding support from white citizens who feel over-taxed.

On the one hand, the disparities in needs and resources are overwhelming. Households falling below the official poverty level include only 0.7 percent of the white population, but 65 percent of the black population. At the same time, many white taxpayers feel overburdened by taxes-income tax rates, for example, can reach 45 percent on earnings over $22,000-and resentful of nonpayment by some township residents. In Alexandra, a black township inside Sandton, last year’s tax collection rate was only 3 percent. Any effort to meet the pressing fiscal needs of the new South Africa must take into account the vastly different perceptions of contribution and entitlement across its diverse population.

Perspectives on Future Directions

In July, a conference at the University of South Africa in Pretoria brought together governmental officials, policy analysts, academics and international experts to consider local government design and fiscal capacity. Brief overviews of two of the more than 30 presentations at that conference give a sense of the range of issues debated there, from concrete points of physical engineering to theoretical questions of intergovernmental fiscal relations.

At the most basic level, the definition of revenue needs depends on a prior decision as to the scope of local services to which all citizens are entitled. Given that large township areas have grown up without standard infrastructure, what goals should the government set for provision of water, electricity and roads?

Peter Vaz of the official Financial and Fiscal Commission outlined an approach to the monumental task of estimating the cost of providing the minimum services that each citizen can expect. The South African constitution enumerates 27 guaranteed rights, including the right to equality, to human dignity, to life, to freedom of expression, to a healthy environment, to housing, to health care services, to sufficient food, water and social security, to education, to information. The Commission is considering attempts to identify three levels of services-basic, intermediate and full provision. It is also looking at the cost of extending six services to urban and rural areas: water, sewerage, solid waste, roads, stormwater, electricity. For example, the basic level of water provision might be a communal standpipe, the intermediate level a yard tap, and full provision a house connection. The capital cost of each service package then provides a first estimate of the revenue necessary to meet the guarantees relevant to local government activities.

The broadest fiscal questions concern the allocation of taxes and functions among levels of governments. Rudolph Penner of the Barents Group stated that his general support for decentralization in transition economies was tempered in the case of South Africa. The model of voters as consumers choosing a set of local services in exchange for payment of local taxes is not necessarily applicable or desirable in this context. The strong ideological background to politics in South Africa means that voters are not primarily making a local electoral choice on the basis of economic policy. Moreover, the history of apartheid makes self-selected homogeneous groupings unacceptable if they lead to segregation by income class or race. Penner concluded that fiscal decentralization in South Africa must be of a more restrained variety than might be appropriate elsewhere.

These considerations serve only to highlight the sweeping reconsideration of all public institutions and their mandates that has accompanied the initiation of a new era in South African history. Improvements in land policy and taxation may play a significant role in assisting this immense task of national self-transformation.

Joan Youngman is a senior fellow of the Lincoln Institute, where she directs the Program on the Taxation of Land and Buildings. She and Martim Smolka, senior fellow for Latin America Programs, served on the faculty of the July conference at the University of South Africa.

Notes:

1. South African Department of Land Affairs, Our Land: Green Paper on South African Land Policy (1996), p. 9.

2. Roy W. Bahl and Johannes F. Linn, Urban Public Finance in Developing Countries (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992), p. 168.

What are the names of South Africa’s official languages?

A recent newspaper trivia puzzle gives a startling perspective on the enormity of the political, legal and cultural changes experienced by South Africa since 1993, and the difficulty foreign observers face in grasping the scope of these transformations.

The original answer to the question about official languages was given as English and Afrikaans. One week later, a correction noted that South Africa’s major tribal languages should also be included. So the full answer lists ten official languages:

English

Afrikaans

Ndebele

Northern Sotho (Sepedi)

Southern Sotho (Sesotho)

Swati

Tsonga

Tswana (Setswana)

Venda, Xhosa

Zulu

Local governments exercise greater land use authority in the United States than in any other advanced democracy. Yet local governments have themselves evolved piecemeal in the typical U.S. metropolitan area, producing a pattern of fragmented authority. Most notably, as metropolitan areas have exploded outward, the local government system has adapted mainly by creating new suburbs and single-function districts rather than by expanding the boundaries of existing central cities.

Illustratively, when Robert Wood studied the New York metropolitan region in the late 1950s, he counted roughly 1,400 local governments. When Jameson Doig and Michael Danielson examined the same region in the early 1980s, the number had grown to 2,200, of which more than 800 exercised land use regulatory authority.

Critics levy numerous charges against this system. Above all, they contend it invites parochialism and, in dealing with issues of regional scale, gridlock. These failings are particularly apparent when the potential ends of land use policy are controversial. But they are visible in many other circumstances as well—wherever, for example, there is substantial risk that the instruments of policy (from regional overrides of local zoning to the siting of new incinerators) will be highly controversial and no consensus has yet emerged about the severity of a crisis that might justify accepting such risk.

In other respects, however, the system is both adaptive and finely tuned to citizen desires. Numerous functions have been shifted from localities to regional authorities and higher levels of government in recent decades, yet the changes have been highly selective and incremental.

When broad agreement has emerged that a particular function—such as mass transit or environmental protection—requires decisionmaking and management at supra-local scale, the political leaders in many metropolitan areas have frequently crafted new institutional arrangements. They have typically defined the new institutions quite precisely, however, so as to avoid sapping local authority any more than necessary to deal with the specific problems that gave rise to the consensus for change. Where large numbers of voters still favor local control, moreover—as, preeminently, in the field of land use regulation—metropolitan-area political leaders have taken great care to avoid disturbing it.

To be sure, certain objectives are all but impossible to realize through this piecemeal, consensus-dependent mode of institutional adaptation (most notably, greater class and racial integration at regional scale, and prevention of urban sprawl). But others (e.g., the preservation of neighborhood character and vigorous grassroots democracy) are accomplished much more reliably than would be likely in a more “rationalized” system.

Balancing Communal and Individualistic Values

Controversies about this system invariably reflect a mix of conflicting interests and values. Since a considerable body of scholarship exists on the interests most commonly in dispute, let us concentrate here on the values.

Americans consider land use issues within the framework of two disparate ideologies: one communal and egalitarian, the other individualistic and disposed to leave distributional outcomes to the marketplace. In any given controversy, self-interested groups organize their briefs around aspects of one or the other of these ideologies. So it is easy to miss the crucial fact that both enjoy near-consensual support. Americans favor both private capitalism and government action to further collective values–each in its place. The disputes typically arise in situations where parties disagree about which ideology ought to take precedence or about how the differing ideological claims should be balanced.

The land use arena is chock full of such points. Ownership is private. Most development initiative is private. And tradition favors viewing land as a market commodity. But most human activities take place on land; the byproducts of land use profoundly affect every aspect of the human environment; and no one is an owner every place he or she goes. So everyone has a powerful stake in the preservation of some common spaces, in society’s rules for behavior in such spaces, and in some regulation of land use “overspill” effects.

Owners themselves, moreover, are eager for collective services. The value of urban real estate hinges critically on the availability and quality of such services, from highway access to public safety to education. In addition, neighborhood characteristics and the level of investor confidence in the neighborhood’s future profoundly affect real estate values. As a result, whether their aim is development or simply enjoyment of what they already have, property owners are drawn inevitably to the public realm.

Within the public realm, however, communal values–including the presumption of equal access to collective services regardless of income or wealth–predominate. This poses a severe problem for relatively affluent property owners who are reluctant to trigger wide egalitarian claims.

The fragmentation of metropolitan areas into independent suburbs, a problem for some, is for these voters a solution. It provides a means of confining the application of communal norms within relatively small population groups. And it makes available to such groups an instrument of extraordinary power for the pursuit and preservation of homogeneity: land use regulation.

Public Regulation vs Market Forces

Pressures have built in recent decades, nonetheless, for public land use action on a wider scale. Some of these pressures (e.g., for major infrastructure investments and for environmental protection) come largely from property owners themselves and do not pose much redistributive threat even when higher-level governments assume responsibility for action. Nearly all of the centralization that has occurred has been in response to pressures of this sort.

A second set of pressures for supra-local action has come primarily from less favored groups and their political representatives, seeking fiscal equalization and residential integration. There have been considerable shifts of money in response to these pressures. But resistance has been fierce to reforms that might force racial or class integration at the neighborhood level. With rare exceptions it has been successful.

The reform idea with the greatest apparent potential to override local land use parochialism would be a shift of some land use regulatory authority to the state level. Movement in this direction occurred in about one-quarter of the states during the 1970s and 1980s. Except in the notable cases of Oregon and Florida, however, the changes were slight, and the historic pattern of local land use autonomy remained firmly entrenched. Concerns about growth, moreover, rather than concerns about equality or integration drove these state land use reforms. Consequently, with weak real estate markets in the early 1990s interest in them has waned.

The question remains whether shifting land use authority from the local to the state level, if it does occur, will be likely to produce more egalitarian and integrationist outcomes than would the existing pattern of fragmented land use governance. One can plausibly argue that it will, stressing that egalitarian norms tend to prevail within (even if not between) U.S. public jurisdictions. Thinking of the immediate future, however, the likelihood is that such shifts will be rare and that, even when they occur, their egalitarian impacts will be meager.

For better or worse, the overwhelming trend of the 1990s, at all levels of government, is toward greater market deference rather than more vigorous public action to achieve redistributive objectives.

_____________

Alan Altshuler is professor in urban policy and planning and director of the Taubman Center for State and Local Government at the John F. Kennedy School of Government, Harvard University. He is also a faculty associate of the Lincoln Institute, which distributes several of his publications. This article is reprinted with permission from the 1995-96 Annual Report of the Taubman Center.

For the past several years, the Lincoln Institute has been collaborating with the Loeb Fellowship Program based at Harvard University’s Graduate School of Design. The program was established in 1970 through the generosity of Harvard alumnus John L. Loeb to allow mid-career professionals to study independently and gain additional tools to help revitalize the built and natural environment. The 2001-2002 Loeb Fellows took their end-of-the-year class trip to Cuba in mid-June, including two days in Santiago de Cuba and four in Havana, with a side trip from Havana to Trinidad and destinations in between.

With its neoclassical facades, white cobbles, Caribbean clouds and pastel paint, Trinidad is frozen in time like a watercolor postcard. Because Cuba’s architectural heritage is the focus of growing international attention and it’s not threatened by waves of new construction, the future of the past seems assured. The future itself is much more difficult to find. As our Loeb Fellowship group searched for clues in three cities and parts of the countryside, we found that despite economic stagnation and international political tension Cubans are hard at work on a future that is uniquely theirs.

An influx of tourist dollars and an aggressive, uniquely Cuban preservation campaign have begun to seize the riches of Old Havana from the jaws of benign neglect. After at least one bad experience with new construction, the Office of the City Historian, which coordinates the impressive large-scale restoration and revitalization of Old Havana, is still grappling with the problem of integrating the new with the historic. One way of addressing the problem is to closely oversee the design of block-sized developments. We walked by one large, modern parking structure inside Old Havana that will be rebuilt as a multi-use building, with parking beside it, according to a design intended to replicate the scale and some of the monumental features of a colonial convent that once stood on the site. Although some residents are being relocated here and elsewhere, many are returning to their homes after their neighborhoods are rehabilitated.

Now considered a model for financing rehabilitation efforts in other districts of the city, the renewal of Old Havana is based on a system of taxes and joint ventures that includes revenues from the private enterprises profiting from restoration-related tourism. The Office’s US$50 million-per-year budget is divided between construction and social supports for Cubans living within the boundaries of the rehabilitation zone. This can be thought of as a system of “value capture,” long a topic of interest at the Lincoln Institute.

Julio César Pérez, a Cuban architect, urban designer and advocate for community-based planning, was a member of our Loeb Fellowship class. With his special perspective as a local practitioner, he showed our group some favorite examples among the rich legacy of pre-revolutionary Deco and Modern architecture in Havana. Five-story gems are set among the very mixed cityscape of central Havana, which also includes the 28-story Edificio Focsa, with its 375 apartment units, built in the twilight of the Batista years.

On the heels of the international style housing blocks and casinos of the 1950s, the revolution brought its own form of land use revision. Julio told a story of Che Guevara and Fidel Castro playing a game of congratulatory post-revolution golf on the vast green of the former Havana Country Club. “How can we make good use of this land?” they mused, according to the legend. The results of their conversation are the grandly metaphoric and mostly unfinished National Schools of Art designed by Ricardo Porro, Vittorio Garratti and Roberto Gottardi. Their stance is deliberately indifferent to the clubhouse or the plan of the golf course, treating the open area as if it were a large meadow in the wilderness. The buildings are slated for restoration, a project made more complicated by poor siting and hydrological problems.

Julio also singled out more recent examples of large-scale construction in Havana, such as the Melia Cohiba Hotel with its bulky, corporate arch and the Miramar Trade Center, a commercial (dollar) mall across the street. These expensive projects are not only design failures, but also miss the relationship of the site with the sea and the possibility for creating a new quality of place in a developing district.

With the stalled economy and international stalemate of the 1990s, Cuban architect and planner Miguel Coyula and his colleagues have made use of the time and materials at hand to take a more thoughtful approach to land use and development. While vertical cities of steel and glass are popping up on a fast track and enormous scale in cities around the world, one of the world’s largest scale city models is being built out of discarded cigar boxes in Havana. This breathtaking miniature landscape was conceived as an aid to planning and an anchor for the efforts of the Group for the Integrated Development of the Capital (GDIC), which has been advising the city government on planning matters since 1988.

The 1:1000 model of greater Havana has been evolving piece by fitted piece for most of the last decade, and now covers 112 square meters or about a quarter of a basketball court. The model is housed in a specially designed, daylight-filled pavilion in the Mirarmar area near the center of the city, where drop-in visitors can circulate around and above the model on the broad floor and ramping mezzanine levels. Scale models of virtually every structure in the city are mounted on the wood topographical base. The buildings are color-coded to show development at different stages in history: colonial, pre-revolutionary modern (1900-1958) and post-revolutionary.

Miguel describes one construction project, a high-rise for the Committee for Economic Collaboration (CECE), which was cancelled because the model showed it was clearly out of scale for its location in central Havana. The decision seems to be a milestone because it was a very real project and also symbolic of a determination to build with environmental sensitivity—despite pressures to accommodate foreign investors in cash-strapped Cuba.

The primary mission of the GDIC is intimately familiar to Americans involved in planning inside major cities: start with neighborhoods. The group has run a series of “neighborhood transformation workshops” for local residents guided by professional designers and planners, selected from the same area when possible. These projects capture the spirit of the international community design movement, a 45-year-old, U.S.-linked tradition in which designers work directly in the interest of area residents. Since both the hard times of the post-Soviet 1990s and the U.S. embargo began taking their huge economic toll on Cuba, these workshops have gained in significance. They have brought planning and economic development together in a new local context, with neighborhoods tackling projects like urban farming and manufacturing building materials from recycled rubble.

The neighborhood transformation workshops and similar initiatives over the last 20 years have helped to bridge the Cuban revolutionary imperative of equal treatment for all and the very human imperative of making decisions about family, community and daily life. Another example is Architects for the Community, a national civic sector community design practice involved in town construction and environmental planning as well as low-fee design services for individual families. Built on the theories of Argentinean architect Rodolfo Livingston, the practice promotes a direct relationship between the user and the architect while building sustainability and contextual sensitivity into each construction project. Julio worked with the practice for five years before coming to Harvard and he presented a paper with Kathleen Dorgan, another member of the Loeb class, at the Association of Collegiate Schools of Architecture conference in Cuba last spring. As an advocate for more humane and thoughtful land use and building design in his country, Julio is among a number of Cuban architects concerned with traditional values of craft and environmentally appropriate design.

Considering efforts like these, there is hope for a future of construction based on a fine calibration of scale, carefully considered relationships between built fabric and natural features of the surroundings, as well as the comfort and pleasure of the users. The challenge is to find the economic and regulatory means to support appropriate construction. So far, the state has maintained control of land use through direct and almost exclusive ownership, negotiating leases for some private and foreign investment through a delicate and extremely tenuous web of economic and legal formulas for valuing the parcels involved. As the economy becomes tied to the influx of outside currencies, these leases are likely to evolve into more predictable and transparent transactions. Perhaps land sales and heftier taxation are not far behind.

With the coming of foreign investment and the pressures to open up to even more, there will be ample opportunity in the future to be hijacked by land use decisions that are driven by the profit margins of distant organizations, and that would be an unfortunate addition to Cuba’s historic burden. Because, despite the beauty of its landscapes and cityscapes, Cuba is a map of victimization—by colonial conquest, crass economic exploitation, revolutionary confrontation, and brutal Soviet-style development.

The Loeb Fellows got an overview of intense nationalism built upon a deep and diverse culture, cosmopolitan history and the very real achievements of the last 40 years. Cuba is a place of great hardship and also enormous potential, for Cubans and for the rest of the world. We hope that the future does not hold only exploitation and cultural degradation when the barriers to trade and international travel finally fall. We also hope to show that Cuba is a place to learn from the mistakes of the past—theirs and ours—and to find out what is possible when a people are free to protect, respect and enhance their environment.

For more information about the Loeb Fellowship Program, see the website at www.gsd.harvard.edu/loebfell.

Loeb Fellows, 2001-2002

Kathleen Dorgan
Architect and community designer, Storrs, Connecticut

Clair Enlow
Journalist, Seattle

Kathleen Fox
Director, Ohio Arts and Sports Facilities Commission, Columbus.

James Grauley
President, Bank of America’s Community Development Corporation, Atlanta

Seitu Jones
Public artist, Minneapolis

Rick Lowe
Public artist and founder, Project Rowe Houses, Houston

Rubén Martínez
Writer, Los Angeles, and professor of non-fiction writing, University of Houston

Julio César Pérez
Architect, urban planner and professor, Faculty of Architecture, Havana

Virginia Prescott
Radio journalist and interactive media specialist, National Public Radio, New York and Boston

Richard St. John
Director, Conversations for the Common Wealth, Pittsburgh

Marina Stankovic
Architect, Berlin

In June 2003 the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy and the Sonoran Institute established a Joint Venture project to assist diverse audiences in improving state trust land administration in the American West. The goal of this partnership project is to ensure that conservation, collaborative land use planning, and efficient and effective asset management on behalf of state trust land beneficiaries are integral elements of how these lands are managed. The two institutes seek to utilize their core competencies to broaden the range of information and policy options available to improve state trust land management. This article introduces the Joint Venture and describes some of the work now under way in Arizona and Montana.

State trust lands are a phenomenon that dates back to the Northwest Ordinance of 1785. With this ordinance, the U.S. Congress established a policy of granting land to states when they entered the Union as an asset to generate funding to support the public education system, a fundamental state responsibility. Starting with Ohio in 1785 and ending with Arizona and New Mexico in 1910, each new state received a set of federal lands that, under federal enabling legislation and the corresponding state constitution, were to be held in trust for the benefit of the public schools. The trust mandates established by the U.S. Congress and the states are clear: to generate revenue to support the public schools and other institutions. In some cases there are other minor institutional beneficiaries as well, but the public schools (K–12) are by far the largest beneficiary throughout the state trust land system. That singularity of purpose continues today and distinguishes state trust lands and the state programs that administer them from other types of public lands.

While Congress intended state trust lands to be perpetual, the lawmakers expected that over time some lands would be sold to produce revenue. Initially Congress provided little guidance to states on how they should manage their state trust lands. Many states that entered the Union soon after 1785 quickly sold all or most of those lands for profit, and today little remains of that heritage. Because of these actions, Congress placed increasingly stringent requirements on new states in order to limit the use of state trust lands. Since most western states entered the Union in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, they retain most of the original state trust lands designated at the time of statehood.

Today these lands continue to be managed to generate income for the authorized beneficiaries. This revenue is either made available in the year in which it was generated (typically from leasing activities) or, in the case of outright sale of land or nonrenewable resources, deposited into a permanent fund that generates annual income for the beneficiaries. In Arizona, New Mexico, Texas and Wyoming these permanent funds or endowments are in excess of one billion dollars each.

What Is a Trust?

A trust is a legal relationship in which one party holds property for the benefit of another.

There are three participants in this relationship: a grantor or “settlor,” who establishes the trust and provides the property to be held in trust; a trustee, who is charged by the settlor with the responsibility of managing the trust in keeping with the settlor’s instructions; and a beneficiary, who receives the benefits of the trust.

The trustee has a fiduciary responsibility to manage the property held in trust (the trust corpus) in keeping with the instructions of the settlor and for the benefit of the beneficiary. This fiduciary responsibility can be enforced by the beneficiary if the trustee fails to meet the obligations outlined in the trust documents.

Fifteen western states continue to own and manage appreciable amounts of state trust land (see Table 1). The nine states with the largest and most significant holdings are the initial focus of the Lincoln Institute and Sonoran Institute Joint Venture: Arizona, Colorado, Idaho, Montana, New Mexico, Oregon, Utah, Washington and Wyoming (see Figure 1). Collectively these states manage more than 40 million acres of state trust lands. The landholdings are as diverse as the states that manage them and include coastal forests in Washington, mountaintops in Montana and low deserts in Arizona.

Traditionally these lands have been managed almost exclusively for natural resource production, with the leasing and sale of natural products being the principal sources of revenue. The reliance of state trust land management on natural resource extraction is understandable in the context of the natural resource–based economies of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. But today, as the West continues to urbanize and the region’s economies shift to the information age, trust land managers are recognizing a need to broaden the land use activities of their trust land portfolios. Invariably that means rearranging the portfolio from one that is overly reliant on natural resource extraction to one that recognizes the real estate value associated with commercial, industrial and residential development, as well as recreation and conservation.

Like many land use decisions, particularly in areas experiencing explosive growth, state trust land administration is increasingly controversial. As on federal public lands, traditional uses (i.e., cropland, grazing and timber production, and oil, gas, coal and mineral extraction) are at odds with public interests in recreation and natural open space. Efforts to sell and lease lands for commercial and residential development can create tensions between a state agency acting as a trustee and a local community vested with managing growth. Balancing the protection of the public values inherent in many of these lands with traditional and new uses, all within the context of the state trust’s fiduciary responsibilities, is a challenge for trust land managers.

At the same time, population pressures in the West have increased demands on public education funding. State trust lands are one obvious source of revenue to meet these funding demands, which in turn may generate even more pressure on trust land managers who as trustees of a permanent trust need to achieve both short- and long-term financial returns from the trust’s assets. An additional complexity is that the application of trust principles varies among the states, based in part on differing state trust land enabling legislation created in each state at the time of statehood.

Recognizing the value of bringing diverse interests together and providing solid information to stakeholders and key decision makers in land use planning and development environments, the Lincoln Institute and Sonoran Institute Joint Venture project seeks to

• facilitate efforts to modernize state trust land laws and regulations in key western states
• foster education and research efforts that focus on key issues related to state trust land administration
• increase public awareness of the resource and economic values of state trust lands along with the impacts of state trust land management decisions on local communities, including implications for public finance
• develop and implement on-the-ground model projects designed to explore innovative approaches to collaborative land use planning and conservation management of state trust lands
• provide relevant technical information and tools to decision makers and agency staff involved in state trust land management.

Trust Land Reform in Arizona

Arizona is in the midst of a three-year discussion among diverse stakeholders to reform its laws governing state trust lands. Arizona is noteworthy because the burgeoning growth of Phoenix and Tucson is reaching significant tracts of state trust lands. These lands are some of the most valuable real estate holdings in the Intermountain West and comprise 12 percent of the land in the state. Unlike many other western states, Arizona has long recognized the real estate value of its holdings and has an active real estate disposition program that has sold thousands of acres into the urban marketplace. The revenue from these sales has been deposited into the permanent fund of the state trust entity, and the income from the fund is directed to the trust’s beneficiaries. The permanent fund is now valued at more than one billion dollars and is predicted to double in value over the next 10 years.

In the mid-1990s state trust land sales in metropolitan Phoenix came to a screeching halt when the development interests of the Arizona State Land Department encountered conflict with the goals of local communities interested in preserving some of this land as natural open space. Attempts to accommodate local concerns through state legislation have met with mixed results due to the strictures of the Arizona enabling act and state constitution. Several key court decisions interpreting these laws have constrained the Arizona State Land Department from conserving open space or enabling the department to achieve the highest and best use on these lands when sold or leased for residential and commercial purposes. An attempt in 2000 to secure voter approval to revise aspects of Arizona’s constititution and modernize state trust land management failed at the ballot box in the face of unanimous opposition from the conservation community.

This situation has set the stage for a diverse group of interests to convene in the hopes of developing a comprehensive reform proposal that the Arizona legislature and governor’s office will consider. Even with their support, the final package will need voter approval to amend the state constitution, followed by changes in the federal enabling act that will require the approval of the U.S. Congress.

The Joint Venture directed its initial efforts toward working with the conservation organizations participating in the stakeholder group. We provided analyses of the current laws and proposed changes, with assistance from the law firm of Squire, Sanders & Dempsey, to help the conservation community promote a constructive agenda that has been incorporated into the package. In addition, our information related to land use planning was useful to other stakeholders in developing elements of the package that will ensure more collaborative planning between the Arizona State Land Department and local governments charged with land planning responsibility, while also increasing the range of tools available to local communities to protect natural open space on state trust lands.

We are also working with officials from the City of Tucson (the second largest city in Arizona) and the Arizona State Land Department to assist their efforts to develop 10,000 acres in the city’s growth corridor. This Houghton Area Master Plan includes more than 7,500 acres of state trust lands. Our work is directed toward the planning effort by providing examples of smart growth development at the urban edge. A key element is to document evidence that greenfield projects are not necessarily synonymous with sprawl and that a number of examples of recent master-planned communities at the urban edge are incorporating smart growth elements, such as interconnected open space for active and passive recreational use, pedestrian orientation, mixed-use development accessible to public transit, and a diverse mix of housing types, sizes and prices. As important, these progressive master-planned communities are achieving success in the marketplace, which is a preeminent concern of the Arizona State Land Department.

While the City of Tucson, in partnership with the Sonoran Institute, is working to promote infill and brownfield development, even under the most optimistic of scenarios more than 50 percent of the city’s explosive growth will be greenfield development. If successful, this master-planning effort will guide development on 50 square miles of state trust lands within the city and can serve as a local land use planning model for other state trust lands.

Trust Lands in Montana

The Joint Venture has also initiated an assessment of policy issues affecting state trust lands in Montana. Working with a local advisory group chartered by the Department of Natural Resources (the manager of Montana’s state trust lands), we have provided information that will help guide land use planning on 12,000 acres of state trust lands in Flathead County at the gateway to Glacier National Park. This effort will serve as a template for future department plans for land uses other than grazing and forest management. For example, the department has shown an interest in generating revenue from leasing land for conservation, recreational, residential, commercial and industrial uses. Increasing interest in these “special uses” is creating a paradigm shift in how the Department of Natural Resources interacts with local governments and how local governments interact with state trust lands.

As growth expands throughout much of western and central Montana, the department seeks to capture additional revenue opportunities through the development of special uses. While local communities are recognizing that state trust lands can be a source of economic growth and can contribute positively to meeting growth demands, they are also requiring those land uses to be responsive to local community values and concerns. Sound, objective land planning and valuation information are essential to the development of policies that will guide Montana state trust land management in the future.

Final Comments

In the brief time since the Joint Venture was established there has been no shortage of issues that could benefit from better information and collaboration among diverse parties. This fall the Lincoln Institute and the Sonoran Institute will convene a small group of experts from academia and the public and private sectors to identify the issues of greatest concern that will guide further research efforts. Our work in Arizona and Montana will continue as we seek to develop a broad-based approach to increasing awareness about state trust lands. The successful resolution of the issues affecting state trust land management will benefit not only local school children, but also many conservationists, developers, ranchers and businesses throughout the West.

Reference

Souder, Jon, and Sally K. Fairfax. 1996. State trust lands: History, management and sustainable use. Lawrence: University Press of Kansas.

Andy Laurenzi is the program director for state trust lands at the Sonoran Institute, a nonprofit organization established in 1990 to bring diverse people together to accomplish shared conservation goals. The Sonoran Institute is based in Tucson, Arizona, with offices in Phoenix and Bozeman, Montana (www.sonoran.org).

The Mississippi River watershed has, since the administration of Thomas Jefferson, played a central role in American life. This centrality has been both literal, in a geographic sense, and figurative, in the sense that the mighty river runs through America’s agricultural and cultural heartland.

One of the nation’s greatest conservationists, Aldo Leopold, grew up along the banks of the Mississippi, in Burlington, Iowa. After gaining a forestry degree at Yale University and serving in the U.S. Forest Service in the desert Southwest, Leopold returned to the upper Midwest to teach and write his most enduring prose at the University of Wisconsin in Madison. Leopold and his family also devoted themselves to the restoration of a farm and forest landscape that included a ramshackle home, affectionately known as “the Shack,” on the sandy soils adjacent to the Wisconsin River, a tributary of the Mississippi.

In his work at both the university and the Shack, Leopold gained a first-hand view of the enormous challenges Americans face in attempting to conserve the nation’s soil, water, wildlife, and landscape. As the instigator of the first “wilderness” designation of a federally owned landscape in the Gila National Forest in Arizona, and as a founder of the Wilderness Society, Leopold was a prominent proponent of conservation on public lands. Still, he understood that unless private lands were also conserved for the long term, the conservation community would not be able to effectively protect America’s natural heritage. He wrote presciently for The Journal of Forestry in 1934:

Let me be clear that I do not challenge the purchase of public lands for conservation. For the first time in history we are buying on a scale commensurate with the size of the problem. I do challenge the assumption that bigger buying is a substitute for private conservation practice … . Bigger buying, I fear, is serving as an escape-mechanism—it masks our failure to solve the harder problem. The geographic cards are stacked against its ultimate success. In the long run, it is exactly as effective as buying half an umbrella … . The thing to be prevented is destructive private land use of any and all kinds. The thing to be encouraged is the use of private land in such a way as to combine the public and private interest to the greatest degree possible … . This paper forecasts that conservation will ultimately boil down to rewarding the private landowner who conserves the public interest. It asserts the new premise that if he fails to do so, his neighbors must ultimately pay the bill. It pleads that our jurists and economists anticipate the need for workable vehicles to carry that reward. (Leopold 1991)

More than seven decades after Leopold penned those words, American jurists, economists, policy makers, public natural resource agency administrators, nonprofit conservation leaders, and concerned citizens are still working on his challenge. In October 2005 the Lincoln Institute convened more than 30 conservation leaders to consider the most effective ways to design and use such “workable vehicles.” The Johnson Foundation cohosted the conference at its Frank Lloyd Wright–designed Wingspread Conference Center in Racine, Wisconsin.

From that base the participants visited several sites in the Upper Mississippi watershed in south-central Wisconsin that showcase impressive public-private conservation efforts. Brent Haglund and Alex Echols of the Sand County Foundation led the group to an expansive site on the Portage River managed by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, where participants learned how cooperative public-private land management practices effectively enhanced wildlife habitat and helped restore native ecosystem functions. At the nearby Baraboo River we saw a public-private effort that had restored the river to health through the removal of several aged dams.

For historical perspective, the group visited the site of Leopold’s Shack, where we read from his posthumously published volume, A Sand County Almanac. Leopold (1949) lyrically describes the critical role of private stewardship in maintaining the long-term value of the region’s ecosystems. The participants also visited the campus of the International Crane Foundation (ICF), where we stood face-to-face with several of the world’s rarest birds and learned of cofounder George Archibald’s nonprofit efforts to restore their populations.

Over the next two days at Wingspread, the group discussed ways to enhance a broad array of conservation incentives in an economically efficient, measurably effective, and reasonably equitable manner. The participants focused on three types of incentive programs of interest to the conservation community in the early twenty-first century: tax incentives, market-based incentives, and fiscal (or budgetary) incentives.

Tax Incentives

Jean Hocker, president emeritus of the Land Trust Alliance (LTA), explained how the federal tax incentives associated with the donation of conservation easements, codified in the 1970s and 1980s, have become a key driver of growth in the U.S. land trust movement. Jeff Pidot, chief of the Natural Resources section of the Maine Attorney General’s office, and a 2004–2005 visiting fellow at the Lincoln Institute, followed Hocker with a critique of easement policy and practice, explaining how the use of conservation easements has resulted in a variety of unintended consequences. He argued that reform of easement law and regulation at the state and national levels would both reduce misuse of the tool and improve its effectiveness in achieving conservation purposes (Pidot 2005).

Responding to Pidot’s critique, the participants, led by Mark Ackelson of the Iowa Natural Heritage Foundation, considered a number of potential reforms, paying special attention to opportunities for strong voluntary standards, improved training and accreditation programs, stronger enforcement of existing regulations, and revision of appraisal standards. Several of these reforms have since been implemented, including LTA’s establishment of a voluntary accreditation program.

In response to persistent advocacy by the conservation community, the U.S. Congress in August 2006 approved an expansion of conservation easement tax benefits. In the opinion of James Connaughton, chair of the White House Council on Environmental Quality, the new provisions provide “substantial new incentives to landowners who want to commit their land to open space while keeping our nation’s working farms and ranches working” (The Chattanoogan 2006).

Market-based Incentives

Adam Davis, a California-based expert on ecosystem services, explained how private interests, in the context of public cap-and-trade regulatory structures, were becoming increasingly active in providing public and private goods, by employing new ecosystem service trading mechanisms for land and biodiversity conservation (Davis 2005). He noted that U.S. Army Corps of Engineers regulations for the mitigation of adverse impacts to wetlands were evolving to require all mitigators to meet measurable, relatively efficient performance standards. Such developments, he reported, would allow commercial wetlands banking firms to compete effectively and efficiently, improving the per-unit cost and quality of mitigation banking initiatives over time.

Davis’s remarks were expanded upon by several speakers, including Fred Danforth, who offered a case study of his own entrepreneurial experience in ecosystem service provision on a ranch in Montana’s Blackfoot River valley; George Kelly of Environmental Bank & Exchange (EBX) and Wiley Barbour of Environmental Resources Trust, who offered insights on the importance of clear norms and standards in ecosystem service markets; and Leonard Shabman, resident scholar at Resources for the Future and a widely respected economist, who has published several papers on the future of mitigation banking.

Recent events offer considerable hope that some of the legal and regulatory reforms discussed at the session will be implemented in the near future. Specifically, in the spring of 2006 the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers published new draft regulations that appear to address many of the concerns raised about wetlands mitigation. As reported by Ecosystem Marketplace (2006), “central to the proposed new regulations is the requirement that all forms of mitigation meet the same environmental standards already required of mitigation banks … . The proposed regulations will raise accountability levels for projects funded by in-lieu fee payments and will implement a more timely approval process for mitigation banks.”

Fiscal Incentives

The third type of incentive is generally funded through governmental budgets. Ralph Grossi of the American Farmland Trust; Craig Cox of the Soil and Water Conservation Society; Roger Claassen of the U.S. Department of Agriculture; and Jeff Zinn of the Congressional Research Service offered a variety of perspectives on the complex negotiations associated with reauthorization of the Farm Bill, which offers opportunities to expand and change federal farm programs in 2007.

Whether or not the next Farm Bill provides for growth or shifts in incentive programs, achieving measurable impacts will depend on skillful program implementation. Jeff Vonk, director of Iowa’s Department of Natural Resources, offered detailed insight into the challenges of using a conservation budget to address agricultural water quality problems. He argued persuasively that even if conservation budgets increase over time, they will not achieve their intended effect without careful resource allocation analysis and follow-through.

Howard Learner, director of the Chicago-based Environmental Law and Policy Center, offered a detailed case of how a federally funded agricultural renewable energy program benefited from focused legislative design and follow-through on implementation. Andrew Bowman of the Doris Duke Charitable Foundation added the idea that, if implemented in a well-coordinated fashion, the State Wildlife Action Plans submitted to the federal government by the 50 states offered another important opportunity to make progress in wildlife and habitat conservation.

Help for the Mississippi River Watershed

Recent progress in strengthening U.S. tax and market-based incentives for land and biodiversity conservation, combined with potentially significant fiscal incentives, could provide an historic opportunity to realize ambitious conservation objectives in the next decade. There are many thorny conservation challenges that might be addressed with such incentives.

One of most urgent is associated with the Mississippi River watershed where Aldo Leopold spent much of his life. Stretching from Montana to Pennsylvania to Louisiana, the watershed picks up an enormous load of phosphorus and nitrogen from farms, parking lots, and lawns. These chemicals and other pollutants are carried by the great river into the Gulf of Mexico, where they are instrumental in creating hypoxia—an ecological condition characterized by a shortage of available oxygen. It can be caused by surplus amounts of phosphorus and nitrogen that feed huge, oxygen-consuming algal blooms on the ocean’s surface. As the blooms grow rapidly, deeper ocean waters may become relatively depleted of oxygen, sometimes resulting in the death of massive numbers of fish.

A combination of innovative tax, market-based, and fiscal incentives could make a significant impact in improving the ecological character of the watershed and reducing hypoxia in the Gulf. For example, incentives targeted to encourage stream bank restoration, the establishment and stewardship of buffer strips, the implementation of crop rotation schemes that reduce fertilizer runoff, and the reduction of impervious surfaces near watercourses could, after sufficient trial and error, prove to be efficient, measurably effective, and reasonably equitable across geographic and socioeconomic lines. If implemented across the Mississippi watershed, such tools would benefit marine and bird populations, as well as the Gulf fishing industry and local economies. Aldo Leopold would likely applaud news of such an effort’s success, seeing private landowners rewarded to conserve the public interest.

James N. Levitt is director of the Program on Conservation Innovation at the Harvard Forest, and a research fellow at the Ash Institute for Democratic Governance and Innovation at Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government.

References

The Chattanoogan. 2006. Conservation incentives pass Senate: Waiting on President’s signature, August 7. http://www.chattanoogan.com/articles/article_90539.asp.

Davis, Adam. 2005. Mainstreaming environmental markets. In From Walden to Wall Street: Frontiers of conservation finance, James N. Levitt, ed., 155–171. Washington, DC: Island Press in association with the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.

Ecosystem Marketplace. 2006. Ecosystem Marketplace Commentary: Draft mitigation regulations signal growing private sector role in conservation, Press Release, March 27. http://www.ewire.com/display.cfm/Wire_ID/3033.

Leopold, Aldo. 1949. A Sand County almanac. New York: Oxford University Press.

———. 1991. Conservation economics. In The river of the Mother of God and other essays by Aldo Leopold, Susan Flader and J. Baird Caldecott, eds., 193–202. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press.

Pidot, Jeff. 2005. Reinventing conservation easements: A critical examination and ideas for reform. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.