Monday, February 9th, 2015
[ I’m going to be giving a keynote at Governing Magazine’s Summit on Performance and Innovation in Louisville this Wed. The entire conference is live streaming at Governing’s web site. My session is Wed at 1:30pm, but looks like a lot of great stuff you won’t want to miss, such as the mayor’s roundtable immediately following me.
As you know, I recently joined the Manhattan Institute and its quarterly magazine City Journal. So obviously I’m interested in promoting our work. I think it’s fair to say that for those of you with a strong left orientation, you’re not going to agree with some of what’s published in City Journal. On the other hand, I think that regardless of what your political philosophy is, you’ll find some things that you do resonate with – but more importantly things to engage you. I want to share a couple of pieces from the magazine to give you a sample of what you might find. Here’s one by Mario Polèse from the Winter 2014 issue talking about how (some) downtowns have come back – Aaron. ]
Not so long ago, most urbanists were predicting the demise of downtowns. The data, after all, pointed unambiguously to declining central-city populations and expanding suburban ones in nearly every American metropolitan area between 1950 and 1980. Manhattan lost a quarter of its residents, for example, and Boston nearly a third. The exodus wasn’t confined to the United States. The population of inner London fell by more than a million residents during the same period, and my hometown, Montreal, watched the central borough of Ville-Marie hemorrhage half its population between 1966 and 1991. Businesses were fleeing, the urbanists noted. Central business districts were becoming vestigial organs, legacies of a bygone era before the automobile and the truck liberated us from the tyranny of proximity and brought us the suburban shopping mall.
But downtowns didn’t go the way of the dinosaur. In fact, most of them have begun to grow again. Of the 50 largest central cities in America, all but five saw their populations grow between the 2000 and 2010 censuses, and only two exhibited declines after 2010. For some, the turnaround came in the 1980s; for others, in the 1990s; and for still others, more recently. The title of Alan Ehrenhalt’s recent book, The Great Inversion and the Future of the American City, reflects the nature of this shift—which, again, isn’t limited to the United States. But why are downtowns coming back? And how can we account for the holdouts?
The modern history of the central city is a story of three consecutive waves. The first began during the decades following World War II, though its full impact on urban economies became apparent only later. It involved a structural change sometimes called “deindustrialization” or “tertiarization”: a massive shift from manufacturing to services. The principal beneficiary of this shift was the “business services” sector, which includes finance, insurance, real estate, engineering, management consulting, advertising, publishing, and legal services.
All these business services sought out locations offering a high potential for personal interaction. The objects of exchange weren’t goods but information; human relations were the glue that held the sector together. Unlike manufacturing, business services required little floor space to generate income. Office towers allowed numerous firms to inhabit small spaces, producing correspondingly high property values. In the downtowns of large cities, such industries as manufacturing and warehousing, which demanded a lot of space, were unable to afford the rising cost. They began to decamp for less expensive locales. Meantime, the development of standardized containerization meant that trucks could now carry cargo from ships directly to factories and warehouses. Manufacturers and wholesalers no longer needed to be adjacent to ports and railheads in cities like New York and Montreal, giving these businesses more flexibility in choosing their locations.
So over time, business services replaced manufacturing as the principal economic base of large cities. You might define the tipping point as the moment when combined employment in the three main industry classes that constituted business services—finance, insurance, and real estate; professional, scientific, and technical services; and administrative support services—surpassed employment in manufacturing. In New York, that moment arrived in 1980. Manufacturing still accounted for a quarter of the city’s employment in 1970; today, it has fallen to well below 10 percent. The tipping point came in 1988 in Toronto, Canada’s largest metropolis, and some 15 years later in runner-up Montreal.
Until the late 1980s (or later, depending on the city), business services hadn’t grown enough to undo employment and land-use patterns that downtowns had inherited from the industrial era. Heavily polluted brownfields were left vacant, as were unused docks, empty warehouses, and factory shells. But many of these industrial sites have since been transformed. In Montreal’s old port, for instance, one abandoned dock now houses a science museum; a second has become a popular entertainment venue.
The growth of business services irreversibly altered not only the appearance of most big-city central neighborhoods but also their employment profile. This brings me to the second wave, which we might think of as the residential counterpart of the first. It was a turnaround in the population decline of central neighborhoods.
To see why it happened, we need to understand the forces that had previously been driving households away from the center: rising incomes, growing ownership of cars, the postwar baby boom, and high crime. A general rule of housing economics is that as incomes rise, households demand more floor space per person. As they prospered during the postwar years, families aspired to better, bigger homes, perhaps with a garden and even a pool. They found the space they sought in the suburbs, where land was cheap and plentiful. Automobile ownership also rises systematically with incomes, and it enabled numerous households to move to those spacious suburbs. And the baby boom, of course, meant more households with children, which demand more space than childless households do. Over the four decades following World War II, these trends produced ideal conditions for urban flight and suburban growth, especially when combined with the growing urban crime and disorder that marked the era.
But eventually, the lure of the suburban dream began to diminish. Starting in the 1990s, incomes rose less rapidly than in the past, slowing the demand for housing space. Automobile ownership stopped rising, stabilizing at about 800 cars per 1,000 people, according to the World Bank. Single-person and childless households accounted for an increasing share of the American population. The suburbs kept growing, but the great era of rapid suburban expansion seemed to have ended.
It can be argued, too, that tastes and preferences changed. The car is no longer the status symbol that it once was, having been replaced, among today’s youth, by concert tickets or the latest smartphone. As America’s infatuation with the car wanes, owning a two-garage split-level house becomes less glamorous. In an article published in Urban Studies in 2006, City Journal contributing editor Edward Glaeser and Joshua Gottlieb convincingly demonstrated Americans’ change in preferences toward urban living. Before 1990, the larger the city, the higher the average wages paid there, even after accounting for cost of living. After 1990, that relationship reversed itself, meaning that workers now accept lower wages for the privilege of living in big cities. They must be receiving something in return, the authors argue—specifically, access to the amenities and pleasures that central big-city living offers, from restaurants and museums to concerts and learning institutions. I’m inclined to agree with Glaeser and Gottlieb that the fall in urban crime rates since the 1980s explains only part of the new taste for urban living, but it, too, was important.
But the most powerful reason for the second wave was the first wave, which produced well-paying jobs downtown. That is, the main reason households began to return to the center was that the best jobs were there. New Yorkers have long since grown familiar with gentrification, the replacement of poorer, generally blue-collar, populations by wealthier, professional ones. But the phenomenon took place in downtowns all over North America.
The two waves that I’ve just described reshaped central neighborhoods, making them magnets for rising cohorts of entrepreneurs in digital firms. This is the third wave, currently in full motion: high-tech start-ups seeking out central neighborhoods. Downtowns are the new battlegrounds of the digital economy.
True, Silicon Valley remains the top player in that economy, whether you’re measuring the number of high-tech start-ups per year or the amount of venture capital invested. That isn’t about to change; few places can match the Valley’s buzz, its location near two top engineering schools, its superb scenery, and its local supply of risk-tolerant venture capitalists—not to mention the entrepreneurial spirit that California, despite its dysfunction, seems to bring out in people. Nevertheless, smaller clusters of high-tech start-ups are springing up in many central cities. New York’s cluster has (predictably) been dubbed Silicon Alley (see “Net Gains,”); London’s, Silicon Roundabout. San Francisco’s South of Market area, or SOMA, is an emerging hub of high-tech activity. Following a multibillion-dollar cleanup, the South Boston waterfront area, a short walk from the financial district, is also becoming a high-tech hub, attracting firms from nearby Route 128 and Cambridge.
To understand what’s happening, take a closer look at the neighborhoods being colonized. New York’s tech cluster is located chiefly in lower Manhattan—specifically, the Flatiron district, Tribeca, Chelsea, and nearby neighborhoods that have completed the transition from warehousing and manufacturing to residential and nonmanufacturing commercial uses. In London, the heart of the cluster is Shoreditch, an old blue-collar neighborhood to the northeast of the financial district. South Boston is also an old warehousing district with recycled rail yards and docks. These areas’ distinguishing feature is that each is within walking distance of the central business district. If the second wave took place because of housing, the primary factor here is proximity to other firms.
And not just other digital firms: as the tech industry moves away from simply making hardware and software and begins producing computer-accessible content—from music and video games to news and broadcasts—it finds value in being located near the entertainment, publishing, and broadcasting industries, traditional foundations of large-city downtown economies. Proximity to financial institutions, another traditional downtown pillar, is also helpful: meeting a rich banker or an eager venture capitalist is easier in lower Manhattan than in the New Jersey suburbs.
There are cultural reasons for the third wave as well. Asked on TV why his large computer-animation firm, Ubisoft, decided to locate in downtown Montreal, a founding shareholder pointed out that the company’s employees worked at all hours. They wanted to be able to walk across the street for coffee or a sandwich at midnight—or, alternately, to visit a bar at noon. Few wanted to commute, he added, and of those who did, many biked. Is it any surprise that such firms want to be in 24-hour cities, rather than in suburban districts that empty out after 5 PM? And that such employees are choosing to repopulate center-city neighborhoods, rather than drive in from afar? The symbiosis of workplace and residence is further strengthened by a growing construction trend in which condos occupy upper floors, offices occupy lower ones, and retail stores occupy the ground floor, creating a new generation of mixed-used neighborhoods.
It’s also the case that high-tech companies, like the business services of the postwar years, require relatively little floor space. Many need nothing more than a few laptops and desks and can consequently pay those downtown rents. And in some downtowns, third-wave firms can recruit graduates of nearby engineering or tech schools, such as Montreal’s McGill University and École de Technologie Supérieure. New York mayor Michael Bloomberg was hoping to accelerate just this kind of symbiosis when he announced plans for an ultramodern technological campus on Roosevelt Island, across from Manhattan, to be run by Cornell University and the Technion–Israel Institute of Technology.
In several big American cities, though, the downtown resurgence hasn’t taken place; the areas continue to struggle and deteriorate. In most cities, the average office rent per square foot is higher downtown than in the suburbs—in New York, downtown rents are twice as high. But in Cleveland, according to data from the major real-estate firm Cushman & Wakefield, office space is no more expensive downtown than in the suburbs, and in St. Louis, it’s actually cheaper. Office-based firms in those cities don’t see downtown as a valued location and aren’t willing to pay more to locate there. Data for downtown Detroit are unavailable from Cushman, probably because demand from prospective clients is so tiny that there aren’t enough properties on the market for information to be produced.
An economic geographer would call this phenomenon a loss of “centrality,” which refers to the geographic point with the highest market potential for firms. It’s highly unusual for a big city to lose centrality. Even during the height of the population exodus—the 1960s and 1970s—the central business districts of New York, Boston, San Francisco, and most other cities never lost it. Why have Detroit, Cleveland, and St. Louis?
No simple answer exists to that question, though part of the explanation involves successive badly run city administrations, white middle-class flight, and a shrinking tax base, things that create a downward spiral of deteriorating services and rising taxes. And just as the reasons that some big-city downtowns have failed to revive are various, so are the solutions. No magic pill—be it a sports stadium, a convention center, or a shopping mall—can single-handedly bring back a moribund big-city downtown (see “Urban-Development Legends,” Autumn 2011).
Still, these troubled areas could learn a few lessons from the success of many of their peers across the nation. For one thing, the key to downtown resurgence is jobs—chiefly, jobs in business services. If finance firms, consultancies, head offices, advertising companies, and so on flee to the suburbs, the task of reviving a downtown will prove far more difficult.
Also, successful downtowns are mixed-use centers that are busy around the clock, not just from nine to five. A 24-hour downtown isn’t built overnight, so to speak. But it’s true that teaching institutions can sometimes bring in clienteles with a taste for 24-hour living. It wasn’t a coincidence that New York’s first gentrified neighborhood—long before the word “gentrification” came into fashion—was Greenwich Village, near New York University.
Another lesson is that you can’t separate the health of a downtown from that of the wider metropolitan area. Cities with resurgent central neighborhoods also have strong metropolitan economies. This means, for one thing, that strong national or regional corporate centers will find it easier to maintain strong downtowns; by contrast, smaller cities whose downtowns are largely dependent on retail have a harder row to hoe. It also means that revitalization initiatives can’t be limited to the central city. Some level of cooperation between city and metropolitan area is necessary—if only to ensure that they effectively share the cost of metro-wide infrastructure, such as public transit.
A related lesson: strong downtowns and suburbanization are not mutually exclusive, as anyone who has driven through the sprawling suburbs of Washington, D.C., or New York can testify. An exodus from the center can occur for two diametrically opposed reasons. Suburban office parks can spring up because a downtown is too strong (and therefore expensive) or because it’s too weak. Firms leaving Manhattan for cheaper office rents in New Jersey are the sign of a growing downtown; firms leaving central Detroit for the safer, cleaner suburbs are the sign of a dying one.
Finally, the many current policies that restrict real-estate supply downtown—rent control, restrictions on building heights, and so forth—are a luxury that only cities with solid, growing downtowns can afford because they drive up prices in the center and discourage people and businesses from settling there. How far we’ve come since the 1970s, when downtowns seemed doomed and governments were concerned with revitalizing them! Today, those governments are doing the opposite, restricting growth in downtown areas and, in too many cases, turning them into coveted prizes occupied by a lucky few. Abandoning these misguided policies would reinforce the gratifying shift that cities all over the country and the world are witnessing: a return to the center.
This article originally appeared in the Winter 2014 edition of City Journal.
Thursday, February 5th, 2015
[ Alon Levy’s Pedestrian Observations site is a great look at public transit for those seriously interested in the subject. He’s lived in many countries and has studied systems around the world, bringing a global perspective to local projects. And he takes an analytical, “good government” approach of proposing systems that both produce high value and are cost effective. Here’s his take on what’s need at the New York MTA – Aaron. ]
In the last few years New York’s MTA has gone through multiple cycles in which a new head talks of far-reaching reform, while only small incremental steps are taken. The latest is the MTA Transportation Reinvention Commission, which has just released a report detailing all the way the MTA could move forward. Capital New York has covered it and hosts the report in three parts. Despite the florid rhetoric of reinvention, the proposals contained in the report are small-scale, such as reducing waste heat in the tunnels and at the stations on PDF-pp. 43-44 of the first part. At first glance they seem interesting; they are also very far from the reinvention the MTA both needs and claims to be engaging in.
Construction costs are not addressed in the report. On PDF-p. 53 of the first part, it talks about the far-reaching suburban Grand Paris Express project for providing suburb-to-suburb rapid transit. It says nothing of the fact that this 200-km project is scheduled to cost about 27 billion euros in what appears to be today’s money, which is not much more than $150 million per km, about a tenth as much as New York’s subway construction. (Grand Paris Express is either mostly or fully underground, I am not sure.) The worst problem for transit in the New York area is that its construction costs are an order of magnitude too high, but this is not addressed in the report.
Instead of tackling this question, the report prefers to dwell on how to raise money. As is increasingly common in American cities, it proposes creative funding streams, on the last page of the first part and the first six pages of the second part: congestion pricing, cap-and-trade, parking fees, a development fund, value capture. With the exception of congestion pricing, an externality tax for which it makes sense for revenues to go to mitigation of congestion via alternative transportation, all of these suffer from the same problem: they are opaque and narrowly targeted, which turns them into slush funds for power brokers. It’s the same problem as the use of cap-and-trade in California.
One of the most fundamental inventions of modern government is the broad-based tax, on income or consumption. Premodern governments funded themselves out of tariffs and dedicated taxes on specific activities (as do third-world governments today), and this created a lot of economic distortion, since not all activities were equally taxed, and politically powerful actors could influence the system to not tax them. The transparent broad-based tax, deeded to general revenue through a democratic process, has to be spent efficiently, because there are many government departments that are looking for more money and have to argue why they should get it. Moreover, the tax affects nearly all voters, so that cutting the tax is another option the spending programs must compete with. The dedicated fund does neither. If the broad-based tax is the equivalent of market competition, a system of dedicated funds for various government programs is the equivalent of a cartel that divides the market into zones, with each cartel member enjoying a local monopoly. In this way there’s a difference between the hodgepodge of taxes the MTA levies and wants to levy and Ile-de-France’s dedicated 1.4-2.6% payroll tax: the payroll tax directly affects all Francilien workers and employers, and were it wasted, a right-wing liberal politician could win accolades by proposing to cut it, the way New York Republicans are attacking the smaller payroll tax used to fund the MTA.
The proposals of where to spend the money to be raised so opaquely are problematic as well. There is a set of reforms, based on best practices in Continental Europe and Japan, that every urban transit system in the first world should pursue, including in their original countries, where often only some of those aspects happen. These include proof-of-payment fare collection on buses, commuter trains, and all but the busiest subway systems; all-door boarding on buses; mode-neutral fares with free transfers; signal priority and bus lanes on all major bus routes, with physically separated lanes in the most congested parts; a coherent frequent bus network, and high off-peak frequency on all trains; and through-service on commuter rail lines that can be joined to create a coherent S-Bahn or RER system. As far as I can tell, the report ignores all of these, with the exception of the vague sentence, “outfitting local bus routes with SBS features,” which features are unspecified. Instead, new buzzwords like resiliency and redundancy appear throughout the report. Redundancy in particular is a substitute for reliability: the world’s busiest train lines are generally not redundant: if they have parallel alternatives those are relief lines or slower options, and a shutdown would result in a major disruption. Amtrak, too, looks for redundancy, even as the busiest intercity rail line in the world, the Tokaido Shinkansen, has no redundancy, and is only about to get some in the next few decades as JR Central builds the Chuo Shinkansen for relief and for higher speeds.
The only foreigners on the Commission are British, Canadian, and Colombian, which may have something to do with the indifference to best industry practices. Bogota is famous for its BRT system, leveraging its wide roads and low labor costs, and Canada and to a lesser extent the UK have the same problems as the US in terms of best industry practices. Swiss, French, German, Japanese, Spanish, and Korean members might have known better, and might also have been useful in understanding where exactly the cost problems of the US in general and New York in particular come from.
The final major problem with the report, in addition to the indifference to cost, the proposal for reactionary funding sources, and the ignorance of best industry practices, is the continued emphasis on a state of good repair. While a logical goal in the 1980s and 90s, when the MTA was coming off of decades of deferred maintenance, the continued pursuit of the maintenance backlog today raises questions of whether maintenance has been deferred more recently, and whether it is still deferred. More oversight of the MTA is needed, for which the best idea I can think of is changing the cycles of maintenance capital funding from five years, like the rest of the capital plan, to one year. Long-term investment should still be funded over the long term, but maintenance should be funded more regularly, and the backlog should be clarified each year, so that the public can see how each year the backlog is steadily filled while normal replacement continues. This makes it more difficult for MTA chiefs to propose a bold program, fund it by skimping on maintenance, and leave for their next job before the ruse is discovered.
I tag this post under both good categories (“good transit” and “good/interesting studies”) and bad ones (“incompetence” and “shoddy studies”) because there are a lot of good ideas in the report. But none of them rises to the level of reinvention, and even collectively, they represent incremental improvement, of the sort I’d expect of a city with a vigorous capital investment program and industry practices near the world’s cutting edge. New York has neither, and right now it needs to imitate the best performers first.
This post originally appeared at Pedestrian Observations on November 25, 2014.
Friday, January 30th, 2015
My latest piece is online in the latest issue of City Journal. It’s about the blowback people and firms ranging from Shinola to Hantz Farms have gotten when trying to bring what Detroit desperately needs to rebuild, namely investment. Here’s an excerpt:
Consider Shinola, a luxury-goods start-up that employs more than 250 people in Detroit, many engaged in the manufacturing of bicycles, leather goods, and watches. The firm has opened boutiques in New York and London and is running multipage ads in upscale magazines, boasting of its Detroit connection. But not everybody sees Shinola as a Detroit success story. “Shinola is using my city as its shill, pushing a manufactured, outdated and unrealistic ideal of America,” wrote Detroit native John Moy on Four Pins, a fashion website. He complains about Shinola’s out-of-town financial backers and its use of parts made elsewhere. When Shinola installed four outdoor city clocks, someone tagged them with graffiti.
What these and other incidents reveal is an “it’s our city” mind-set among locals deeply hostile to and suspicious of outsiders—and of outside investment. “Detroit is the only town in America where misery hates company, or at least distrusts it,” wrote Detroit Free Press columnist Brian Dickerson about the Shinola controversy. Detroiters, he notes, view enterprising newcomers as “mere poseurs, parasites feeding off a hardscrabble heritage to which they lack any legitimate claim.”
I note that some of this is understandable emotionally, but the reality is that if Detroit wants to improve, that means more people and investment from the outside, and those people are going to demand a seat at the table too. Click through to read the whole thing.
Wednesday, January 28th, 2015
The “storm of the century” hit New England hard but was a bust in New York. I went out and surveyed the realm yesterday morning and filed at story over at City Journal:
New York’s “storm of the century” turned out to be a bust. Rather than the predicted 30-inch “snowpocalypse,” only eight to 10 inches hit most of the city. That’s not to say that it had no effect. It happened to be the perfect amount of snow needed to turn Central Park gorgeous. By 10 o’clock, park streets and paths had already been plowed, and joggers, kids with sleds, and even skiers were out enjoying the winter wonderland. With the streets mostly empty, the morning was a welcome respite from traffic noise, bicycle rickshaws—and bikes, period, as cyclists appeared to be skipping the festivities. I missed the clop-clop of horse-drawn carriages, however—a sad preview of what awaits if Mayor de Blasio succeeds in his quest to ban carriage rides.
Tuesday, January 27th, 2015
[ With the New York portion of the widely touted blizzard turning out to be a bust, I thought I’d dust off this 2009 piece I did for New Geography on cities, blizzards, and what the response to them says about the urban culture – Aaron. ]
January 1979 saw one of the worst blizzards in city history hit Chicago, dumping 20 inches of snow, closing O’Hare airport for 46 hours, and paralyzing traffic in the city for days. Despite the record snowfall, the city’s ineffectual response was widely credited for the defeat of Mayor Michael Bilandic in his re-election bid, leading to Jane Bryne becoming the city’s first female mayor.
In January 1978, a similar blizzard had struck the city of Indianapolis, also burying the city in a record 20 inches of snow. Mayor Bill Hudnut stayed awake nearly two days straight, coordinating the response and frequently updating the city on the snow fighting efforts through numerous media appearances. Nevertheless, the airport closed and it was several days before even major streets were passable. But when it was all over, Hudnut emerged a folk hero and went on to become arguably the most popular mayor in city history, serving four terms before voluntarily stepping aside.
While major snow is much less frequent in Indianapolis than Chicago, and Hudnut’s response certainly bettered Bilandic’s, these twin blizzards illustrate a powerful difference in citizen expectations between these two cities, reflecting two of the broad approaches to urban service provision in America today.
People in Chicago expect and demand high quality public services. Chicago is the “City that Works”, and woe be to the mayor when it doesn’t. That’s why every mayor since Bilandic has treated snow clearance like a military operation, deploying a division of armored snow trucks to assault the elements at the merest hint of a flake, often leaving more salt than snow in their wake. If Chicagoans pay relatively higher taxes than the rest of the country, at least its citizens know that they are getting something for their money, whether it be snow clearance, garbage collection, street lighting, landscaped boulevards, or bike lanes.
In Indianapolis, by contrast, public services are not the main concern. People gripe if snow is not cleared, but are not outraged. No Indianapolis mayor ever lost his job for failing to deliver good services. Rather, taxes have always been the primary issue. Nothing illustrates this better than the most recent mayoral election. Buoyed by an emerging demographic super-majority, a large campaign war chest, and the support of almost every establishment figure of both parties, Mayor Bart Peterson confidently raised city income taxes by 0.65 percentage points shortly on the heels of a major property tax jump. In the fall, however, he lost his re-election bid to political neophyte Greg Ballard, who ran on a taxpayers first platform. Ballard won without significant backing from his own Republican party, supported only by a collection of grass roots activists, bloggers, and his own relentless door-knocking campaign.
The divergent citizen and policy preferences of both cities continue to the present, amply illustrated by this very winter. Mayor Daley, facing a recession-induced budget gap, decided to save money by ordering that residential streets not be cleared by workers clocking overtime. Citizen unhappiness over the state of the streets during December snows led even the widely popular Daley to backtrack on this experiment, reverting to the traditional all out assault for the balance of winter.
In Indianapolis, after 12.5 inches blanketed the city this January, crews took several days to clear its snow routes and, as per its standard operating procedure, did not plow residential streets at all. The local media carried tales of people’s laments, but ultimately the city government knows that the response to the snow will be forgotten soon after it melts. Higher tax bills, by contrast, are long remembered. In an inverse situation to Chicago, people in Indianapolis sleep at night knowing that, if services haven’t been all that great, they at least have more money in their pockets.
While both cities have long seemed happy pursuing their respective courses, storm clouds are gathering over both strategic models of operation.
Backing down from a high service stance in government is almost impossible. Government spending only ever seems to go one way. Faced with that logic, and the clear expectations of its citizens, Chicago in effect decided to double down. With the much celebrated resurgence of urbanism, Chicago put its chips on a soaring Loop economy driven by an emerging status as one of the top global cities, a real estate boom, and a series of tax and fee increases. It embarked on a civic transformation epitomized by community showplaces like Millennium Park, miles of top quality streetscape improvements, a new terminal at Midway Airport and the start of a multi-billion dollar O’Hare modernization, one of the nation’s best bicycling infrastructures, and perhaps most ambitiously, a bid for the 2016 Olympic Games.
This model is increasingly showing signs of strain, however. Many taxes and fees, including the nation’s highest sales tax at 10.25%, appear to be close to maxed out. The real estate crunch hit hard at Chicago’s transfer tax revenue, another key source of city funds. This, in combination with a weak economy, has hammered the city’s budget, leaving Daley with tough, often unpopular choices to make. The CTA recently raised fares. City parking meter rates will be quadrupling under a privatization plan recently signed, hopefully plugging operating budget holes – something Daley had previously resisted. As with New York City, Chicago may be faced with the cold reality of both service cuts and tax increases.
More importantly, as with the dot-com bubble before it, there are real questions as to whether the financial and real estate driven economy that fueled Chicago’s boom will come back in full force any time soon. In the meantime, the economy and cost of living in the city are squeezing the middle class harder by the day, and despite perhaps America’s biggest condo boom, the city’s population is slowly shrinking. All this leaves Mayor Daley, although still very popular, with perhaps the toughest leadership challenge of his tenure.
Meanwhile Indianapolis faces problems of its own. It too has budget challenges, just as years of deferred investment are finally catching up with the city. Indianapolis has a $900 million unfunded backlog of curb and sidewalk repairs alone. It is the 13th largest municipality in America, but has the 99th largest transit system. And, more troubling, the city now finds itself outflanked by its own suburbs.
At one time Indianapolis could comfortably decide to purchase bronze-level services while other cities paid more for gold. But now its own suburbs are offering silver, and at a lower price point in taxes than the city is selling bronze. Many of its suburbs today not only have better schools and safer streets than the central city, they feature fully professional fire departments, large park acreage, lavishly landscaped parkways exceeding city standards, and even better snow removal. In the recent storm, upscale north suburban Carmel finished plowing its cul-de-sacs before Indianapolis finished its main arteries. When people can pay less and get more just by moving to the collar counties, that’s what they do. Tens of thousands of people have left the merged central city-county in recent years. Only a large influx of the foreign born has kept Indianapolis from losing population.
The current economy is exposing the long term structural weaknesses of both civic strategies. Chicago and Indianapolis show that both higher service and lower service models face big challenges and that neither approach represents a safe harbor in the current economic storm.
This post originally ran on February 14, 2009 at New Geography.
Monday, January 26th, 2015
As a change things around here at Urbanophile HQ this year, I want to resurrect something that was extremely popular, but too time consuming for me to produce, namely my Urbanoscope roundups of urban links. I’m going to do it a bit differently this time, and instead of a general curation from the entire web (stay tuned on that front) put out a monthly post with some of the best articles that appeared in other places where I’ve been a contributor: City Journal, Governing, Guardian Cities, and New Geography.
Firstly though, in his FT column this weekend Tyler Brûlé dissed the urban environment of the Bay Area, saying:
I have a theory about social media: that it exists not because people are dying to share everything but because of poor urban planning. The reason these channels have developed on the US west coast stems from millions of people being lonely and trapped in sprawling suburbs. Apparently, the Swiss are among the lowest users of social media in Europe. I’d venture this is due to village life, good public transport, and a sense of community.
In the current issue, William Bratton and George Kelling mount a defense of Broken Windows policing.
Nicole Gelinas says that New York votes should have booted Sheldon Silver a long time ago. One might say the same about Illinois house speaker Mike Madigan.
Charles Chieppo says Dallas should have paid competitive wages instead of relying on gold-plated pension sweeteners to retain firefighters.
Scott Beyer writes about revamping San Francisco’s Market St.
Oliver Wainwright takes a look inside Beijing’s airpocalypse, saying it renders the city “almost uninhabitable.”
Justin Welby, Archbishop of Canterbury, weighs in on the growing divide between Greater London and the rest of England.
John Sanphillippo makes the case for young people to choose authentic urban neighborhoods in lower cost cities in the Rust Belt like Cleveland and Cincinnati.
He also goes in search of the virtues of America’s decaying inner-ring suburbs.
Monday, January 19th, 2015
[ Portland resident Sean Benesh recently put out a book about a book called The Bohemian Guide to Urban Cycling. It’s targeted at an audience who may not (yet) get this cycling in the city thing and wants to know more. There are some parts that are even relevant to the expert, however, including a chapter on the intersection of bicycling and gentrification. You may recall that Portland had some debates about this in the recent past. Sean wrote a chapter about this for the book and I’m pleased to be able to publish a condensed version here. In the interest of full disclosure, I’ll note that Sean and I have a publishing project we’re doing together, but I think you’ll agree this piece stands on its own merits – Aaron. ]
The flashpoint for the gentrification conversation along Portland’s North Williams revolves around the bicycle. The cultural appetite for what the creative class likes and enjoys is in stark contrast to that of the African-American community. “North Williams Avenue wasn’t hip back in the late 1970s. There was no Tasty n Sons. No Ristretto Roasters. No 5th Quadrant. Back then, it was the heart of the African American community. It was wonderfully colorful and gritty.” As the black community saw their own businesses close down through economic disinvestment, they weren’t replaced with new businesses that they regarded as desirable. In the several hours I spent today at Ristretto I have seen roughly a hundred patrons come in and go out, plus others sitting outside on the patios of one of several nearby restaurants. Only three were African-American. As I mentioned earlier, the buildings that surround this coffee shop are home to many African-American families. And yet these new businesses do not appeal to their cultural tastes.
This all came to a head over a road project to reconfigure North Williams and Vancouver Avenue. Both are one-way roads a block apart that carry a high volume of bicycle traffic. Vancouver’s southbound traffic flows carry cyclists towards the Lloyd Center and downtown Portland and so sees its heaviest usage in the mornings. Williams on the other hand carries northbound traffic away from the city center which means its highest use is in the afternoons and evenings when bicycle commuters are heading away from the city center. But the focal point of all of this controversy is specifically tied to North Williams Avenue because this is where most of the new businesses are coming in.
A New York Times article featured this stretch of road including one of the business owners who opened up the beloved Hopworks BikeBar. “North Williams Avenue [is] one of the most-used commuter cycling corridors in a city already mad for all things two-wheeled. Some 3,000 riders a day pass by Mr. Ettinger’s new brewpub, which he calls the Hopworks BikeBar. It has racks for 75 bicycles and free locks, to-go entrees that fit in bicycle water bottle cages, and dozens of handmade bicycle frames suspended over the bar areas. Portland is nationally recognized as a leader in the movement to create bicycle-friendly cities.” Other national newspapers and magazines have also picked up on all of the buzz happening along North Williams. In Via Magazine, Liz Crain writes, “With 3,000 commuters pedaling it every day, North Williams Avenue is Portland’s premier bike corridor. Visitors, too, find plenty worth braking for on two blocks of this arterial, including two James Beard Award–nominated chef-owned restaurants and a slew of hip shops and cafés.” Sunset Magazine has several features on North Williams including: “Go green on Portland’s North Williams Avenue: Enjoy a low-key urban vibe thanks to yoga studios, indie shops, and cafes.”
With images of happy (white) hipsters pedaling bicycles, doing yoga, and eating gourmet food, the nation is given a taste of inner N/NE Portland that is not reflective of the reality of the neighborhood nor the tension surrounding gentrification. These magazines showcase things to see, do, and eat along North Williams with helpful hints like, “Scene: A low-key urban vibe, courtesy of yoga studios and green indie shops and cafes … Dress code: waterproof jacket and jeans with right leg rolled up … Native chic: A waterproof Lemolo bike bag … The Waypost: Creative types come to this coffeehouse for locally produced wine and beer, as well as live music, lectures, and classic-movie screenings.”
However, not all of the residents are necessarily in favor of these changes taking place. And there are certainly other national media outlets who have picked up on the “other side” of the North Williams story. “Located in a historic African-American community, the North Williams businesses are almost exclusively white-owned, and many residents see bicycles as a symbol of the gentrification taking place in the neighborhood.”
The tensions of racism and gentrification have culminated in ongoing debates over North Williams’ status as a major bicycle thoroughfare. Sarah Goodyear of The Atlantic Cities (CityLab) writes, “Sharon Maxwell-Hendricks, a black business owner who grew up in the neighborhood, has been one of the most vocal opponents to the city’s plan for a wider, protected bike lane. She can’t help but feel that the city seems only to care about traffic safety now that white people are living in the area. ‘We as human beings deserved to have the same right to safer streets years ago,’ she says. ‘Why wasn’t there any concern about people living here then?’” This picks us on the tension surrounding the North Williams project in general, and in particular the controversy surrounding repainting the traffic lanes to incorporate new designs which cater to the growing number of bicyclists who use this corridor.
Goodyear goes on to lay out both sides of the controversy:
Jonathan Maus, who runs the Bike Portland blog and has reported extensively on the North Williams controversy, thinks the city should have stood its ground and gone forward with the project, but wasn’t willing to do so in part because of the political weakness of scandal-plagued Mayor Sam Adams, who has been a strong biking advocate and is closely identified with the biking community.
“There’s been too much emphasis on consensus,” said Maus. “I’m all for public process, but I also want the smartest transportation engineers in the country on bicycling to have their ideas prevail.”
Maus, who is white, says the history of North Williams shouldn’t be dictating current policy, and that safety issues for the many people who bike on the street are urgent. “At some point as a city, you have to start planning to serve the existing population,” he said. “The remaining black community is holding traffic justice hostage. It’s allowing injustice in the present because of injustice in the past.”
In light of this, why is North Williams the flashpoint for controversy? The tension and angst is about more than simply repainting a roadway; it embodies the most visual representation of gentrification in inner N/NE Portland. For longtime African-American residents, as expressed above by Maxwell-Hendricks, she and others felt that they had simply been neglected for decades. This negligence took the form of economics, housing, and general concerns of safety. Their frustration is that it wasn’t until middle-class whites began moving into the neighborhood that these issues began to be addressed and rectified. This notion of systemic racism helped created this area and these same forces are at play in gentrifying this once predominantly black neighborhood.
The African-American community feels it has been slighted once again. The initial citizen advisory committee revealed the imbalance: “Despite North Williams running through a historically African American neighborhood, the citizen advisory committee formed for the project included 18 white members and only 4 non-white members.” This is why the push for safety along the North Williams corridor has caused such an uproar. “The current debate about North Williams Avenue––once the heart of Albina’s business district––is only the latest chapter in a long story of development and redevelopment.”
For many in the African-American community the current debate over bike lanes along North Williams is simply one more example in a long line of injustices that have been forced upon their neighborhood. Beginning in 1956, 450 African-American homes and business were torn down to make way for the Memorial Coliseum. “It was also the year federal officials approved highway construction funds that would pave Interstates 5 and 99 right through hundreds of homes and storefronts, destroying more than 1,100 housing units in South Albina.” Then came the clearance of even more houses to make way for Emanuel Hospital. For more than 60 years, racism has been imbedded in the storyline of what has taken place along North Williams.
For many, the North Williams project is more than repainting lines. As Maus reported, “A meeting last night that was meant to discuss a new outreach campaign on N. Williams Avenue turned into a raw and emotional exchange between community members and project staff about racism and gentrification.” In his article, Maus noted the painful history of Albina as the primary catalyst for the tension today.
Lower Albina—the area of Portland just north and across the river from downtown through—was a thriving African-American community in the 1950s. Williams Avenue was at the heart of booming jazz clubs and home to a thriving black middle class. But history has not been kind to this area and through decades of institutional racism (through unfair development and lending practices), combined with the forces of gentrification, have led to a dramatic shift in the demographics of the neighborhood. The history of the neighborhood surrounding Williams now looms large over this project.
It was at this meeting that a comment from one of those in attendance changed the entire trajectory of the evening as the conversation quickly moved away from the proposed agenda. One woman said, “We have an issue of racism and of the history of this neighborhood. I think if we’re trying to skirt around that we’re not going to get very far. We really need to address some of the underlying, systemic issues that have happened over last 60 years. I’ve seen it happen from a front row seat in this neighborhood. It’s going to be very difficult to move forward and do a plan that suits all of these stakeholders until we address the history that has happened. Until we address that history and … the cultural differences we have in terms of respect, we are not going to move very far.”
The crux of the conflict is not about bicycles nor bike lanes nor even new businesses and amenities. It is about racism. The push for creating a more bikeable and bike-friendly commuter corridor has raised the ire of longstanding residents who had felt neglected and voiceless for decades. “The North Williams case study is an example of the City inadequately identifying, engaging and communicating with stakeholders.”
Now that more whites are moving in are changes taking place. “Some question why the city now has $370,000 to pour into a project they say favors the bike community while residents for decades asked for resources to improve safety in those same neighborhoods. To the community, the conversation has polarized the issue: white bicyclists versus the black community.” But is this issue completely race-related? Portland has been and continues to expand its bicycle infrastructure throughout the city, not just in N/NE Portland. There are also several other main bicycle corridors that receive a high volume of bicycle commuters, but since they do not go through any ethnic neighborhoods they have not created this much controversy. This does not minimize the tension and angst over the North Williams project; nor does it downplay the role that racism has played throughout the history of that community.
Note: Footnotes in the original text have been removed. Some hyperlinks have been added.
This is a condensed chapter excerpt from The Bohemian Guide to Urban Cycling.
Thursday, January 15th, 2015
My latest post is online at City Journal and is called “Why Policing?” in which I reiterate my view the crime reduction is overwhelmingly the most important things for cities to get right, especially struggling cities and neighborhoods. Here’s a short excerpt:
New York’s biggest accomplishment was making many poor neighborhoods safe. It’s nearly inconceivable that the struggling neighborhoods of Chicago, Indianapolis, or other cities will see legitimate recovery until they get crime under control. Safe streets in all neighborhoods, not just some, are a precondition of social equality. New York’s experience with policing shows that crime can be greatly reduced with enough political and public will. Such will is lacking in too many places. Other matters of public order, it’s worth noting, don’t get overlooked in any city.
It’s a curious blind spot in the urbanist discussion. There’s this belief that crime is just an ambient force in cities that ebbs and flows as it will no matter what we do. For example, activists routinely deny that police strategy and tactics drove the decline in NYC crime. We always hear instead about an overall crime decline. Sure, without a doubt there was a secular decline in crime that benefited NYC, but that doesn’t explain that city’s vastly outsized success. Places like Chicago and Indy have murder rates 4x NYC. Cleveland is something like 7x.
And of course such arguments never apply to any urbanist preferred policy. For example, pretty much every downtown in America is seeing a bit of a resurgence, with new apartments, restaurants, etc. Yet we are frequently hear streetcars or some other such credited as producing these, even when there are similar results in places without them. I think in this case advocates would clearly see that there is a trend, but that policy and implementation also matter.
Others want to bring up police misconduct. Accusations of that should be investigated thoroughly and fairly, and bad cops need to be held accountable for their actions. But that doesn’t somehow mean good cops implementing good policies should stop doing so. I think we can walk and chew gum at the same time.
And I can’t help but notice an endless stream of pieces pounding the drum about police improprieties juxtaposed to next to nothing about the far too large number of innocent people killed and otherwise victimized by criminals each year.
Twitter user @True_Urbanism shared his remembrances of NYC in this consolidated tweet storm in response to my piece (translated from Twitterspeak):
The most successful economic development policy in NYC was the big reduction in crime. In declining years, so many people fled because of high crime crime. It’s hard to communicate the pall that fell over NYC — even in relatively “safe” neighborhoods — people staying home in evenings, etc. Weird safety “precautions”: carrying mugger $ (so mugger won’t slash out of frustration); triple locked doors…Popular special “Fox police locks” on doors: leaning bars that prevented aggressive robbers from pushing in weak doors! Special instructions from friends regarding which street to use and not to use when visiting (e.g. on Upper West Side, Chelsea). In poor neighborhoods, great demoralization: coming home and being robbed of week’s pay or home robbed of hard-earned appliances. And concerned minority families sending kids to live with relatives to be safe and to be away from bad influences. It seemed like “everyone” was planning to leave NYC when they could finally afford to, or could get a job elsewhere.
The thing is, this is the reality in a lot of urban neighborhoods today in cities outside New York. Parents still have their kids trained to hide under the bed or in a bathtub when the bullets start flying. Just because the rich neighborhoods in many places have crime rates at near-NYC levels doesn’t mean its still not the civic equivalent of 1974 in others.
If we really care about inequality, the first thing we should care about is public safety inequality. Yes, that means building better police-community relations and a lot of other things. But it also means aggressive policing using best strategies we’ve seen work in places like New York.
By the way, this the exact approach urbanists loudly agitate for constantly when it comes to traffic safety: more policing, more enforcement, more technology, more prosecutions, etc. for those violating traffic laws.
I’ll mention one other argument I hear that I don’t believe even the people making really believe. Namely this idea that because NYPD stopped writing parking tickets and such for a couple weeks and chaos did not ensue, that means policing is overrated. As if we’d suffer an instant wave of building collapses if inspectors stopped citing small code infractions, or a major outbreak of food poisoning instantly if health inspectors did the same. I don’t believe the 1970s are sitting in a cage waiting to escape the minute we turn our eye way. It takes time or changes in policy, enforcement, and incentives to percolate through. But you can be sure that if the police stopped enforcing speeding or parking laws, drivers would eventually figure out they could do what they want with impunity. There are eventual consequences to changes in enforcement behavior.
Sunday, January 11th, 2015
[ Contributor Robert Munson sent me the below as his take on how Chicago should reform its transportation governance structure. Comments will be enabled on this post and you can email Robert at firstname.lastname@example.org – Aaron.}
Photo by NASA
Night-time shows Chicagoland’s transportation corridors radiating from its center, but does not reveal their weakness: corridors don’t connect well to one another, adding to congestion and time wastage. Many connection improvements proposed in the region’s 2040 Plan are being failed by our politics. As an attempted remedy, the Chicago Metropolitan Agency for Planning (CMAP) is offering a proposal for a sales tax increase.
But before we try to fix the financials, we first must fix the region’s politics. Illinois’ insolvency and behind-the-scene manipulations make CMAP, a state agency, poorly suited to invest new funds. CMAP suffers under the political confusion created by having two Boards. This article looks at how each represents different levels of government and how both restrain regional progress.
CMAP’s proposal is an opportunity to shape a new, suitable regional funding authority that gives taxpayers better value and serves commuters far more effectively. If this new authority is elected directly, it then will have the legitimacy to achieve these three ingredients of sustainable transportation.
1) Balance taxes and usage fees so households have economical options.
2) Invest with greater return for public goals and private interests. And,
3) Minimize confusion caused by a deteriorated state and institute suitable regional governance.
How Two Heads Are Worse Than One
Chicagoland’s obstacles are captured in a helpful history of our region’s planning, “Beyond Burnham.” This book’s concluding chapter summarizes three strategic problems in Chicagoland’s 20th Century planning. Two problems are manageable today. First, the separation of land use and transportation planning has been merged into CMAP; so most players, at least, know the benefits of tightly integrating the two functions. Second, CMAP has helped stabilize the historic tensions between Chicago and its suburbs.
The third problem blocks progress: the region’s lack of an organized constituency. My analysis concludes there is no constituency because there is no elected regional body. This was intentional by two powers-that-be: chiefly, the state’s Department of Transportation; and suburban mayors. Each has its own Board to govern CMAP. (If this seems confusing, link to CMAP’s org chart and you will see why.)
CMAP formed after a compromise ten years ago to merge two agencies. Each intended to protect its turf. Today that compromise — and the power politics behind it — blocks us from the adequate regional governance required to build economically the next generation of infrastructure.
The ultimately powerful Board is the Policy Committee of the Metropolitan Planning Organization (MPO). Mandated to spend Uncle Sam’s money, the MPO is controlled by the Governor through Illinois’ Department of Transportation, a singularly backwards bureaucracy restraining the nation’s key hub from updating itself. While allowing the region’s planning process to show trappings of democratic participation, the MPO can pull the levers of power… much like the man-behind-the-curtain.
The poster-child example is the Illiana Expressway. Unjustified by rational criteria, the Illiana’s approval was strong-armed by the MPO and symbolizes the current regime’s failings. The MPO recently reversed CMAP’s other Board that had clearly decided the Illiana should be a privately funded road in the “2040 Plan” that was produced by an open, public process and was published back in 2010. I call this reversal the “Illiana Incident.” The Incident shows signs that interest group machinations got to the Governor and turned this un-needed expense into a regional taxpayer priority.
I served on CMAP’s Citizen Advisory Committee (CAC) from 2008 through 2010. I did not fully understand the MPO’s power. I could not penetrate its opacity. Its “Memo Of Understanding” is cryptic, not showing the ruling hand. I observed two MPO meetings… and got no further feeling. But during 2010, subtle signs indicated road-building constituencies were asserting themselves. When the Illiana was forced back on to taxpayers in 2014, my naiveté vanished. It became clear that the man-behind-the-curtain also had a hammer that shattered illusions of democratic planning.
That hammer must be laid to rest permanently before taxpayers agree to a new tax. The Illiana Incident is a lesson to taxpayers about how new taxes will be wasted. With the highway largely unpopular and hugely ineffective at resolving the region’s transportation needs, reaction to the MPO’s 2014 reversal spread like a media wildfire. Here is a synopsis of editorials. While that website has an anti-sprawl agenda, the media’s complaints echo a brazen affront to our emerging sense of regional sovereignty.
The Illiana Incident also offers a window into how MPO spending decisions perpetuate the monopolies of the 20th Century agencies that sit on the MPO’s Policy Committee. These agencies tend to give short shrift to the innovations proposed by CMAP staff. In the big picture, a narrow-minded MPO lost us the decades when infrastructure was cheaper and makes today’s investment much larger.
Wasting taxes is condemnation enough. But… the MPO’s authority also is not justifiable when you consider that Uncle Sam is retreating from transportation funding relative to when he mandated MPOs to protect his 80% of capital to Illinois’ historical 20% match. But with a broke state, few expect Illinois to make its match.
We see other signs of the MPO’s lack of accountability. Consider the top five priorities listed in the consensus “2040 Plan,” three were road projects and two were rails. As 2015 ends, the three road improvements (plus Chicago interchanges not even listed) will be nearly complete. The two rail projects are mere plans sitting on a shelf without funding. With the region’s passenger rail plan again sacrificed, a balanced plan can only be executed if there is autonomy from the state’s apparatus. Controlled by the man behind-the-curtain, CMAP cannot invest new regional funds to achieve benefits for the greatest number.
So, how legitimate is it for a state DOT-controlled MPO to exercise ‘de facto’ veto power on Chicagoland’s transportation spending? Not very.
To be direct, Illinois uses the MPO and federal power to thwart regional initiative. The MPO looks like a dinosaur perpetuating 20th Century sprawl and cannot direct the next generation of transportation investments. Any new tax money should be protected from the MPO, which would just build more business-as-usual boondoggles like the Illiana.
Without enough autonomy, CMAP will continue to be burdened by its poor parent. Illinois’ de facto insolvency emerged after decades of short-term decisions and recurring corruptions. To understand taxpayer’s likely resistance to CMAP’s proposed new sales tax, let’s see what debt has wrought. Bad state governance saddles each Illinois citizen with a cumulative debt of $21,130. This same opinion piece in “The Wall Street Journal” references also the Cook County Treasurer’s report in which this debt is much larger and close to unbearable for Chicago residents.
While these numbers are not widely known among the electorate, they are clearly felt. Rapidly being shaped is a citizens’ consensus that their state cannot solve problems merely with more money. The proverbial “throwing good money after bad” now eats food from too many families’ tables. Although still largely a public intuition that voices itself in gutter-low approval ratings for legislators and knee-jerk reactions to tax increases, the public’s distrust makes approval of CMAP’s tax unlikely.
Simply put: Illinois has abused the public’s trust and, quite reasonably, they won’t willingly give the state controlled MPO more money.
CMAP’s Second Head Lacks Authority… Intentionally
While the hidden and more powerful Board undermines legitimacy, CMAP’s other Board is visible but minimizes regional coordination. Controlled by suburban mayors, this visible Board does a good job synthesizing the needs of a diverse region. But to protect their turf back in 2005, suburban mayors insisted that CMAP plans were to be “advisory.” While politically necessary a decade ago to merge the region’s dueling agencies, that compromise holds us back from the path we need to travel as a region. The state’s insolvency forces taxpayers to demand results…not advisory plans that gather dust on the shelf. Mayoral restrictions on CMAP are fundamental to how it is not suited to produce the higher level of results required to invest new taxes.
Consider the commonly held planning principle: the closer transit investments are aligned to compact and mixed uses, the higher the ridership and higher return on investment. This alignment increases transit’s operating revenues. Suburban downtowns prosper and property tax revenues increase. Everyone scores.
But because CMAP has only the power of persuasion, its “advisory” plans do not require changes in comprehensive plans as a prerequisite to making a transit investment pay-off sooner. The 2005 scoring area was so large that a municipality still could spend regional money on, say, a new train station without first having a believable plan for compact redevelopment. The scheme with Illinois’ DOT/MPO allows a town merely to wait its turn and it would get its grant for a station or arterial. Protecting this distribution scheme gets played out in the collaborative appointments of County representatives to the MPO and CMAP’s Board.
Too subtle to describe fully in this article, I saw how CMAP’s Board enforced its 2005 deal. Senior staff suggesting tight alignment were forced out. Similarly in early 2011, the CAC that I served on (and also uttered such blasphemies) was replaced by new citizens, hand-picked by CMAP’s Board members.
Uncle Sam’s gradual withdrawal from transit and Illinois’ insolvency make aligned spending even more imperative today. Our multi-decade backlog of maintenance and very little money creates urgency. The policy nexus between transportation and land use must be precise if it is to serve households economically. Instead of merely waiting their turn for grants, towns today must compete for new capital.
As one example, new tax funds should be allocated to communities whose viable TOD plans will increase transit revenue and, thereby turnover that capital for the next town’s station down the line. This accelerates the three decade process that transformed Arlington Heights’ mid-Century downtown into a 21st Century model for its neighbors. Today, quicker returns on investments are how Chicagoland will do more with less capital.
If this basic principle isn’t on the table while discussing new taxes for infrastructure, then taxpayers should end the discussion because they will not get maximum results.
To summarize, we should view CMAP’s two Boards as blocking us from overcoming Chicagoland’s two strategic obstacles: Illinois is losing legitimacy to tax for and approve new initiatives; and, CMAP’s plans lack authority to maximize regional return on investment.
Making The Most Of CMAP’s Proposed Sales Tax Increase
Aside from the MPO’s fatal flaw of not acting in the region’s best future interests, I like CMAP. It certainly is an improvement over two non-communicating agencies. CMAP’s staff is competent. It produced a great long-term plan that won top national awards. Everyone I know who worked on it was gratified to help the undertaking. CMAP transformed a historically fractious region by sketching a potential consensus for progress.
Today, CMAP is on trajectory to win the trust of most jurisdictions. In the four years since the “2040 Plan” was approved, CMAP built productive relations with over 100 jurisdictions to help them plan. Maximizing its power to persuade, CMAP has a convincing Executive Director and a beefed-up communications staff. Most municipalities now understand the regional consequences of their land use. Progress.
But despite its good work in a tough spot, CMAP is not suited to the daily job of reinventing the public’s transportation business. With a narrow skill-set and subjected to vetoes by the state’s road-building agency, CMAP should stick to its knitting as the region’s long-term planning agency. Because it is controlled by a drunkard parent, the state of Illinois, CMAP is unfit to invest public capital well, especially in a time of fiscal constraint.
Here’s how to convert our transportation lemons into some semblance of lemonade.
We start by shifting new funds to a new Board. Consider the Twin Cities; driven by similar political parallels. Their MPO also is controlled by the Governor. Taxpayers of this famously “good government” region viewed their MPO as unworthy of making transit deals that used a new sales tax. So in 2008 they created a Counties Transit Improvement Board. It has revitalized the Twin Cities transit by investing to complete three light rail lines, two central stations and a suburban line. Best yet, Minneapolis and St. Paul seem to have learned faster than pre-2008 practices about how transit investments should be leveraged with land uses to promote economic redevelopment.
Chicagoland’s Board must do the same and also innovate big-time. Because we are broke, we need to develop flexible and entrepreneurial organizations that invest public funds so they employ private sector efficiencies that serve everyone. For this, a Board must isolate itself from the state. Otherwise it will have trouble attracting private capital, since no competent company wants an insolvent partner.
So, an independent Taxpayers Regional Investment Board should be created. TRIB will be substantially more effective by including these three innovations.
- TRIB’s directors will be elected. This shapes a broad regional constituency and helps affirm that taxpayers’ money will be well spent. To protect voters from the cynical distortions of state and federal campaigns, candidates should be non-partisan and only small campaign donations from individuals accepted.
- TRIB’s authorities should include usage fees, not just taxes. The sales tax predominance has proven ineffective at reducing bad transportation habits. TRIB will find the right economic mix of transportation investments (carrots) and usage fees (sticks).
- TRIB will be the taxpayers’ and riders’ advocate. Our monopolistic transportation systems block better returns for new investments. TRIB’s job is to advocate policies that level the playing field for all transportation subsidies so multi-modal, market-based options will emerge faster. TRIB also will respond to rider and commuter complaints and synthesize them to develop solutions. TRIB takes responsibility.
However the new Board emerges, Illinois’ irresponsibility toward transit must be solved. To get perspective on transit’s governance problems, read this study comparing six of the nation’s largest metropolitan areas. Its conclusions for Chicagoland start on page 20. The study serves as a good reference to sharpen our solutions.
For the next six months, CMAP’s sales tax proposal is unlikely to get a fair hearing within the frenzy of every special interest protecting its slice of the Illinois budget. CMAP will alter its strategy for the 2016 session. Supporters should consider tactics that give CMAP more autonomy from an increasingly illegitimate and counter-productive MPO. Good luck!
In the meantime, local progress is possible. We first should take very seriously the Cook County proposal to leverage federal loans, much as Los Angeles has for its transit renaissance. Part of the new County President’s ambition to revitalize transit, this carefully-crafted proposal deserves action. If the Cook County Board shirks this duty during the next few months, then this proposal also should go back to the drawing board so it can win taxpayer support. Since Cook County represents over two-thirds of Chicagoland’s transit trips and most the chronic car congestion, a Cook County adaptation of the TRIB concept can serve as a prototype for the seven-county region’s evolution.
But whatever new tax is proposed, it must offer the public this simple deal: any new tax or usage fee will buy discernible improvements in transportation and increase accountability. If we believably make every initiative work towards a new deal that puts taxpayers and transport users as the head of their systems, then Chicagoland’s connections will be made.
Thursday, January 8th, 2015
My latest post is in the January issue of Governing Magazine and is called “The Myths of Municipal Mergers.” Consolidation and regional governance are often touted as a solutions to urban ills. There was a lot of focus on the fragmented geo-political landscape of the St. Louis region in the wake of Ferguson, for example. But while consolidation can have benefits and curb abuse in some cases, it’s far from a panacea and can create as many problems as it solves. An excerpt:
As for cost savings, evidence suggests that these are vastly exaggerated and that the cost of government can actually go up. This was the case in Indianapolis, where in 2007 the city finally consolidated police departments. The move was projected to save $8.8 million per year. A post-merger audit by the firm KSM Consulting found that actual savings were “negligible.”
Corporations frequently manage to save money when merging. That’s because they can pare costs by eliminating redundancy and harmonizing salaries. But in the public sector, nobody is likely to lose his job, and salaries tend to be harmonized to the high water mark.
Yet there’s an argument to be made for consolidation of especially small cities. Unlike big-city governments, these often fly under the media and state radar unless a major problem erupts. This renders them vulnerable to abuses. It’s no surprise that it was Bell — not small on an absolute basis, but only the 215th largest municipality in California — where the city manager was making nearly $800,000 per year. Combine small size with poverty, as in Bell, and these places are often doubly overlooked.
Click through for the whole thing.