P a n o r a m a

journal of the city and regional planning department at the university of pennsylvania spring 2009

2009P

AN

OR

AM

ATH

E FULC

RUM

OF C

HA

NG

E

1

JOURNAL OF THE DEPARTMENT OF CITY AND REGIONAL PLANNING UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA SCHOOL OF DESIGN SPRING 2009

TABLE OF CONTENTS

2

6

12

17

22

27

32

34

39

45

53

58

Letter from the Editors, Author Biographies

Hold the ApplauseTransportation Investment for Economic Recovery

BY MATTHIAS N. SWEET

Improving Slum Conditions with Public-Private Partnerships

Does Gas Price Fuel Transit Ridership?

Private Profi t vs . Public PurposeThe Collapse of Fannie Mae

BY NICK FRONTINO

Farming in Philadelphia?A Proposal for a Sustainable Urban Farm Incubator

BY CHRISSY CAGGIANO, EMILY DOWDALL, CHRISTY KWAN AND AMANDA WAGNER

Transforming PittsburghAn Urban Design / Landscape Architecture Studio Sample

BY SALLY FOSTER, MATTHEW RUFO AND RADHIKA MOHAN

Subway GeometryA Comparison of New York, Tokyo and Mexico City

BY LINDA MECKEL

Safety and Value From WaterLessons Learned from the Dutch Approach to Urbanism

BY JOHN REINHARDT AND LEE FARMER (WITH STUDIO SIDEBAR BY JEREMY KROTZ AND NIKKI THORPE)

Opportunities for Aligning Planning and Urban Education

Diversity in the City Planning Field

The Ideal Socialist SuburbSocial Change Through Urban Design

BY WM. STEPHEN SCOTT

VOLUME XVII: THE FULCRUM OF CHANGE

BY TINA CHANG

BY DONNIE MALEY AND RACHEL WEINBERGER

BY DAVID MCCARTHY

BY SHARA D. TAYLOR

PANORAMA 20092

FROM THE EDITORS

Dear Readers,

It is with great pride that we entrust to you Panorama 2009, the journal of the City and Regional Planning Department at the University of Pennsylvania. In his great novel, A Tale of Two Cities, Dickens writes:

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light,

it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair . . .

Indeed, current economic times have created a reality for us with which Dickens was familiar. Since last year’s issue of Panorama, the world has experienced a level of upheaval and turbulence in the markets not seen, many say, not seen since the 1930s. Further, in the midst of catastrophic change to the economic fortunes of millions the world over, Nov. 4, 2008, was a date of change not soon to be forgotten with the election of this nation’s fi rst African-American President -- a leader who pledged hope and promised change.

Philadelphia, the United States, the world: Change is in the air.

As professional planners, we work to become familiar with change, to use it and apply it toward the common good, to defi ne why it could be more benefi cial or malignant to the parties involved. We decided that change, an inherent process we all wrestle with both individually and collectively as a society, needed to be incorporated into this year’s theme. And we realized that this academic year truly marks what one could call a fulcrum of change, a vital hinge between the way we have lived and operated in past decades and the currently evolving way we will live from now on. We decided on the title Fulcrum of Change because of the larger social, economic, and political paradigm shifts occurring, and due to planning’s reliance on and inspiration by the perils and promises of the past, while stridently embracing a future of renown and signifi cance. Th e “Urban Design After the Age of Oil” conference in November at Penn is another symbol of this fulcrum of change. Th e conference marked the golden anniversary of the 1958 University of Pennsylvania/Rockefeller Foundation “Conference on Urban Design Criticism,” which included a plethora of notable professionals well-known for shaping our fi eld.

Th is issue’s cover art represents a contrast between past and future, with one specifi c turning point in Philadelphia’s past highlighted — the 1984 construction of One Liberty Place, the fi rst modern skyscraper to break the informal “gentleman’s agreement” for buildings not to exceed the height of William Penn’s hat atop City Hall.

In this year’s issue, well-crafted and erudite submissions speak to the power of change and the manner and responsibility we have, as planners, to inspire positive change. Shara Taylor, in her piece Diversity in the City Planning Field, writes a timely piece about diversity, or the lack thereof, among students and professionals and gauges the reactions of both students and professors. David McCarthy, in his piece Opportunities for Aligning Planning and Urban Education, speaks to the

3

James YoungMCP ‘09 Editor

Bryan RoddaMCP ‘10 Associate Editor

Jeff rey TiellMCP ‘10 Associate Editor

Tina ChangMCP ‘09 Design Editor

Lou HuangMCP ‘10 Asc. Design Editor

Cassidy BoulanMCP ‘10 Designer/Editor

unacknowledged relation between the failures of urban schools and the neighborhood revitalization issues within these communities that planners look to ameliorate. In a post-stimulus world when gas prices seem to fl uctuate often, major public works projects — including transit initiatives — are coming into focus. Donnie Maley and Professor Rachel Weinberger touch on the implications of predicting transit demand as a result of gas prices in their piece, Does Gas Price Fuel Transit Ridership? Similarly, Matthias Sweet, in his piece Hold the Applause: Transportation Investment for Economic Recovery, delves into the pitfalls and potential of transportation spending to revive a sputtering economic market. In Safety and Value from Water: Lessons Learned from the Dutch Approach to Urbanism, John Reinhardt, Lee Farmer, Jeremy Krotz, and Nikki Th orpe detail the need to learn from the past and rethink water management through a variety of places, including the Netherlands, New Orleans, and Philadelphia’s Delaware River Basin. Further, Tina Chang writes on the value of public-private partnerships, their evolution, and how they can be employed in improving slum conditions. Indeed, this issue features a variety of both national and international perspectives in refl ecting the diversity and inclusion that we strive for as planners.

We thank department coordinator Kate Daniel, who has been a great resource for us throughout the publication process. We also appreciate the support and keen advice of the department faculty. Our intent is that these pieces will leave you with a heightened appreciation and humility for the challenges and conditions that we will confront in the years ahead. More poignantly, we hope this knowledge and comprehensive understanding will empower us all to shape our communities and our changing world.

PANORAMA 20094

AUTHOR BIOGRAPHIES

Matthias Sweet (PhD ’12) is pursuing a doctorate in City and Regional Planning with a focus on transportation. He is a transportation planner with four years of experience who has completed studies for public and private sector clients in North Carolina and Long Island. He received a B.A. in Geography from Appalachian State University and a M.A. in Geography from the University of Georgia.

Tina Chang (MCP ’09) received a B.A. in International Development Studies from UCLA and is now concentrating in Urban Design & Development, with a Certifi cate in Landscape Studies. She is interested in the intersection of social justice and urban design, and creative collaborations in improving slum conditions.

Rachel Weinberger is an Assistant Professor of City Planning at the University of Pennsylvania, where she teaches transportation planning and analysis and planning methods. New York’s Mayor Bloomberg hired her as a Senior Policy Advisor for Transportation to develop long-range plans for the city. Prior to joining the faculty at PennDesign, Dr. Weinberger worked in private practice, most recently as a Principal with Nelson\Nygaard Consulting Associates, managing their New York City offi ce; prior to that she served as the director of Multidisciplinary Studies in the transportation planning practice of URS Corporation’s New York offi ce.

Donnie Maley (MCP ’09) concentrates in Transportation. He entered the city planning fi eld after teaching in the School District of Philadelphia. He has a B.A. in sociology and urban studies from Northwestern University and an M.S. in education from Penn.

Nick Frontino (MCP ‘09) is concentrating in Urban Development, with a special interest in the sustainable redevelopment of post-industrial urban areas. He received his A.B. from the University of Chicago.

David McCarthy (MCP ‘09) is concentrating in Urban Development and is also completing the Certifi cate in Real Estate Design and Development. He received a B.A. from Vassar College in 2005 and worked for a Community Development Corporation in Stamford, Conn., developing aff ordable housing for nearly three years before attending Penn.

Sally Foster (MCP ‘09) is a student in the Urban Design concentration and will also complete the Urban Design certifi cate. Before coming to Penn, she received a Bachelor of Urban and Environmental Planning from the University of Virginia.

Radhika Mohan (MCP ‘09/MLA ‘09) is fi nishing her dual degree in Landscape Architecture and City Planning, with a focus on urban design. She is interested in how cultural histories of a site can begin to shape various scales of urban design. Radhika also holds a B.S. in Architecture and a B.A. in Spanish Studies from the University of Minnesota, Minneapolis.

Matthew Rufo (MCP ‘09) is concentrating in Urban Development with a Certifi cate in Urban Design and holds a B.A. in Urban Studies from Brown University. He grew up near Providence, R.I., where he fi rst became interested in waterfront, downtown and brownfi eld redevelopment. Prior to studying at Penn, he worked for the U.S. Green Building Council and volunteered for a green construction project in the U.S. Virgin Islands.

5

Linda Meckel (MCP ‘09) is concentrating in Transportation Planning and is a member of the Penn Urban Transportation Systems Group. She received a B.A. in Anthropology and in Zoology from the University of Washington in Seattle.

Lee Farmer (MCP ‘04) is a transportation planner with AECOM Transportation in Arlington, Va. She was on assignment with FEMA in New Orleans from November 2005 to March 2006. Lee participated in the Dutch Dialogues II, where she was a member of the Gentilly group, and attended the AquaTerra 2009 conference in the Netherlands.

John Reinhardt (MCP ‘08) is a Program Associate for the American Planning Association. He works with the Community Assistance Program as project manager for APA’s Planning Assistance Teams and is involved in APA’s Delta Urbanism program; he participated in Dutch Dialogues II and the AquaTerra conference. Before studying at Penn, John worked at Booz Allen Hamilton, where he helped State and local communities develop, evaluate, and improve emergency plans. As part of this role, he traveled throughout the Louisiana conducting regional workshops focused on evacuation planning and capacity inventorying following Hurricane Katrina.

Jeremy Krotz (MCP ’09) is concentrating in urban design and works as in intern at the Philadelphia City Planning Commission. He graduated with a B.A. in Geography from Th e Ohio State University. He was one of 15 graduate students in Jonathan Barnett’s city planning studio entitled “Climate Change: Impacts and Responses in the Delaware River Basin”, and is interested in integrating design with larger issues of sustainability.

Nikki Th orpe (MCP ‘09) is focusing in land use, transportation, and environmental planning. She was one of 15 graduate students in Jonathan Barnett’s city planning studio entitled Climate Change: Impacts and Responses in the Delaware River Basin in fall 2008. Nikki spent a week in March 2008 volunteering with Providence Community Housing in New Orleans in its ongoing eff ort to recover from the impacts of Hurricane Katrina.

Shara Taylor (MCP ‘10) is concentrating in Community and Economic Development. She plans to work with minority and low-income communities that, historically, have been shut out of the city planning process. She received her B.B.A. in Marketing from Howard University.

Chrissy Caggiano, Emily Dowdall, Christy Kwan, and Amanda Wagner (MCP ‘09) are all concentrating in Community and Economic Development. Th ey enjoy okra, peach jam, sweet potatoes, and believe in the power of food to bring people and communities together.

Wm. Stephen Scott (MCP ’10) is concentrating in Urban Design.

PANORAMA 20096

Hold the ApplauseTransportation Investment for Economic Recovery

by MATTHIAS N. SWEET

BackgroundPresident Obama and Congress have vowed the federal stimulus package for economic recovery will create as many as 2 million jobs by rebuilding our nation’s infrastructure. But that estimate is fraught with errors and far too optimistic for the reality of current planning processes. Th e stimulus package will likely expedite “shovel-ready” projects that have already been planned and programmed by state departments of transporta-tion (DOTs) and metropolitan planning organizations (MPOs). Th ese funds would supplant existing sources of fi nancing and could cover current debt. As a result, only a portion of the stimulus investments would create “new” jobs. Institutional limitations (inside lags) and fi xed short-term industry inputs (outside lags) will delay the limited employment benefi ts from stimulus spending. Th e Congressional Budget Offi ce (CBO) has released several reports, within which the most pessimistic estimates indicate that as little as 15 percent of highway stimulus spending would enter the economy by the end of 2009 (Fund 2009). And short-term projects will likely result in limited productiv-ity gains with negligible secondary increases in economic activity. Indeed, the outlook for inducing economic growth using transportation investment from the stimulus pack-age is dismal.

Th is paper will explore conditions under which transportation infrastructure invest-ment may increase short-term employment and create long-term capacity for economic growth. In a mature transportation network such as that of the United States, the greatest potential for transportation-induced economic growth lies in advances in transportation technology, not in the short-term stimulus package. Despite legisla-tors’ immediate focus on the economic stimulus package, the federal transportation bill SAFETEA-LU re-authorization in fall 2009 will likely provide the most substantive growth prospects through long-range planning.

7

Economic Rationale for Transportation Infrastructure

In An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations, Adam Smith describes transportation as the means through which capitalism can use the division and specialization of labor: enabling interaction among a broad group of people with diverse abilities.

Investing in infrastructure has both backward and forward linkages (Garrison and Levinson 2006). Th e most basic economic impacts are direct infrastructure construction and backward linkages — the engi-neering, planning, and resource extraction that serve as inputs. More importantly, the economic impact of transportation has forward link-ages, enabling increased productivity and economic growth as a result of the infrastructure’s utility. According to the most basic neoclassical economic models, production is a function of labor and capital. Th rough forward linkages, better transportation increases production and en-ables larger markets.

Infrastructure Construction Economics (Backward linkages)

Th e federal rationale for infrastructure investment as an economic stimulus hinges on increasing employment in construction jobs and other sectors providing inputs. Th ese gains are intended to be tempo-rary and last only until construction is complete.

Researchers estimate that every $1 billion spent on infrastructure construction creates between 14,000 and 47,000 jobs (Mishel et. al., 2008; Brookings Institution, 2008). Th ere are diff erences in job creation by investment type; public transit is more labor intensive and results in higher job creation rates (Brookings Institution, 2008). Irons (2008) similarly contends that increasing passenger rail employment may result in the largest upstream benefi ts in job creation — albeit in the government sector (see Figure 1). Th ese fi ndings illustrate the impor-tance in considering the magnitude of upstream employment gains, the types of jobs, and possible long-term impacts on municipal budgets.

Arguments for investment into input-heavy sectors such as construc-tion are based on industries having suffi cient capacity to increase em-ployment and not only raise prices. However, the construction industry still has fi xed costs, including machinery and specialized labor that may provide barriers (outside lags) to fully realizing even the short-term stimulus. Furthermore, institutional and regulatory obstacles by federal and state DOTs (inside lags) may hinder construction from begin-ning quickly. Th ese lags represent distinct limits on the magnitude of benefi ts and speed at which construction and employment gains could commence.

Only a portion of the stimulus package is likely to result in new jobs. Th e emphasis on “shovel-ready” projects will necessitate DOTs and MPOs to recommend projects with fi nished feasibility studies, complet-ed environmental review processes, and fi nal designs that have already been programmed into their transportation improvement programs. In other words, the stimulus package may simply expedite projects that would have happened anyway. In addition, stimulus funds may off set state budget shortfalls and absorb fi nancing sources that are redirected to cover debt or other programs. Th is portion of the investment would not represent genuine new economic activity. In sum, although the backwards linkages serve as the rationale for economic stimulus, the likely outcome indicates a need to temper optimism.

Direct and Secondary Economic Impacts (Forward linkages)

Th e impact of transportation use on productivity is more fundamental to transportation’s role in the economy. Transportation can increase productivity in two ways: 1) by functioning as direct input into produc-tion or 2) by enhancing the productivity of public or private enterprises (Bell et. al., 1997). Just-in-time production is an example of a direct in-put through which transportation infrastructure functions as a mobile warehouse. Indirect impacts rely on changed accessibility patterns to create time or cost savings that increase productivity using a given out-put level. Th ese productivity gains may then, in turn, justify increases in labor or capital inputs that result in real economic growth (Apogee et. al. 1998). Transporting goods, for example, may cost less and take less time as a result of the transportation utility, warranting additional trips that still yield a profi t (but would have been unprofi table without the additional transportation savings).

Most studies indicate that second- or third-generation investment in a mature transportation network has marginal, yet positive and signifi -cant secondary impacts on private-sector economic activity (Ibanez, 1996; Bell et. al., 1997; Apogee et. al., 1998; Jiwattanakulpaisarn et. al., 2009). Some studies (e.g. Graham et. al., 2009; or Banister and Berechman, 2000) indicate that the relationship may be negligible and is bidirectional. But while transport investment may enable economic growth, economically successful regions would also be more likely to invest in transportation. Most researchers agree that this relationship has reduced in magnitude as transport networks have matured. For ex-ample, in Jiwattanakulpaisarn’s 2009 study of highway investment on Gross State Product (GSP) in the continental United States, every dollar invested in transportation infrastructure resulted in a $0.15 private sector return over a 10-year period. Economic benefi ts from transpor-tation-induced accessibility premiums are minor when experienced by an advanced economy with high levels of mobility, a relatively ubiqui-tous network, and with low transport costs relative to GDP (Banister

Figure 1. Upstream job creation per 1,000 sector-specifi c jobs.

PANORAMA 20098

and Berechman, 2000). Figure 2 illustrates this concept by showing the impact of transportation system deployment (slow initial development and slow marginal improvements toward the end) on social conditions such as the economy for which the highest impact is experienced at the beginning of system deployment.

Future Transportation-Economy Links

Garrison and Levinson (2006) argue that new technologies and radi-cally changed approaches to mobility may be the only conditions under which transportation investment would induce a new cycle of national economic growth. Sweeping changes would likely need to impact diff er-ent industries and require suffi cient magnitude to dramatically change accessibility. Nelson and Winter (1982) argue that technology change may be viewed as a substantial shift in productivity that would cause economic growth. However, major changes in transportation service provisions are unlikely within the constraints of existing technologies (Garrison and Levinson 2006).

Th e focus [now] is on making existing systems work better. One cannot

deny the value of making systems work better, for effi ciency is always

desirable. Considering the maturity of systems, however, one should not

be optimistic about the gains to be achieved. What is the confrontation?

It is that conventional wisdom leads us to do things that are not very

important; major technological improvements are important and should

be sought. Activities resulting from conventional wisdom are costly. Th e

opportunity cost of doing this rather than that may be great (Garrison

and Levinson, 2006, p. 393).

Th e proposed stimulus package is not designed to spur such sweeping changes to national transportation policies. According to America 2050 (2008), the key for an infrastructure-based economic stimulus will be to incentivize investment using both short-term and long-term strategies. Th is is an important and overlooked point. Some professionals worry that the infrastructure investment portion of the economic stimulus package will confl ict with and postpone the federal transportation bill re-authorization (SAFETEA-LU) scheduled for fall 2009. Th e timing of these two legislative actions should complement one another and establish a coordinated, long-term strategy that will ultimately be more eff ective in bringing infrastructure-related economic benefi ts.

Planning Overview

Historically, the federal government completed several national plans

that shaped transportation infrastructure and technology. Th e two broad types of national planning eff orts include policy plans with responsibilities delegated to states and comprehensive national transpor-tation plans. For the purposes of this discussion, I use the term “policy plans” loosely to describe national courses of action that enumerate general goals and procedures, but delegate responsibility for specifi c infrastructure characteristics to state DOTs and MPOs. National com-prehensive plans, on the other hand, include explicit federal delineation of specifi c transportation network alignments and system characteris-tics. To gauge the use of a short-term transportation stimulus package in concert with long-term goals of SAFETEA-LU re-authorization, it is fruitful to review the successes and failures of previous national plan-ning approaches.

Policy Plans

Policy plans have been instrumental in the development of national transportation in various forms, including the Good Roads Movement of the early 20th Century, the environmental review process established in the early 1970s, and the Intermodal Surface Transportation Ef-fi ciency Act of 1991. Th ese three case studies illustrate that the success of transportation policy plans generally depends on: 1) whether policy objectives are relevant to all states, 2) whether policy objectives are based on process or outcome, and 3) ingrained standards of practice, public perceptions, and established metropolitan trends.

Good Roads Movement

In the wake of the Good Roads Movement, the 1916 Federal-Aid High-way Act established an explicit goal of improving rural roads for the purposes of carrying mail (Flink, 1988) and “getting the farmer out of the mud” (Fairbank, 1937). With the Federal Highway Act of 1921 and the “golden age for road building,” the Bureau of Public Roads coordi-nated with state highway departments to pave the federal-aid system of two-lane primary arteries (Dilger, 2003). Although the federal gov-ernment subsidized half of the cost to construct federally-designated roads, state highway departments did not wait for federal funding for approximately 40 percent of the projects (FHWA, 1977).

Political entities broadly adopted goals of the Good Roads Movement due to the program’s explicit relevance to various constituents. Th e need to improve rural roads matched the policy objective and funding mechanisms. As demonstrated by the construction of roads without federal funds, highway departments in each state realized and support-ed the program’s benefi ts. As such, the policy was simple and eff ective.

Environmental Review Process

Several federal environmental acts during the 1960s and 1970s estab-lished a procedure-based policy applicable to transportation planning. President Nixon signed the National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA) in 1970, establishing the cornerstone of the environmental review process. Along with creating the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), this legislation specifi es planning procedures for projects that use federal funds. In sum, NEPA establishes a decision-making process through which planners identify and study the presence and severity of possible environmental impacts according to specifi c guidelines.

Figure 2. Social impact versus system deployment.

9

Practitioners critique the environmental review process for its empha-sis on procedure and therefore its high cost, extensive delays, and its use by interests to legitimately or frivolously oppose and hold up any project. However, despite the relative lack of legislative emphasis on outcomes, this procedure-based environmental policy has successfully established a standard for impact analyses.

Multi-modal Policy

Funding became available for not only highways, but also for transit, pedestrian, and bicycle modes under the Intermodal Surface Transpor-tation Effi ciency Act (ISTEA) of 1991. According to Dittmar (1995), ISTEA represented a new (albeit incomplete) set of policy goals that re-examined the interaction between transportation and society, empha-sized sustainability, prioritized system maintenance over expansion, and viewed mobility as one means of achieving accessibility. Denno (1994) further argues the legislation lacked explicit policy objectives to more dramatically shift national transportation investment trends.

According to Katz et. al. (2003), ISTEA only partially realized its proposed reforms. Th e new policies enabled greater decision making by MPOs, but state DOTs did not apply reforms uniformly. For example, although many of the most critical investment needs are in larger met-ropolitan areas, federal funds fi nance projects of less national strategic interest that are designed to maintain political equilibrium.

Comprehensive National Planning

In comparison to policy plans, comprehensive national plans have employed much more explicit means of determining infrastructure investment outcomes. While the federal plans of 1939 and 1944 set the agenda for high-speed road building, Eisenhower’s 1956 plan ultimately shaped the interstate system because it established the Highway Trust Fund, through which it funded states to construct highways. All three plans shared proposals for novel infrastructure that enabled high-speed automobile technology to signifi cantly change accessibility patterns and ultimately reshape the American economy.

Toll Roads and Free Roads (1939)

In Toll Roads and Free Roads, the Bureau of Public Roads evaluated the feasibility of three north-south and three east-west superhighways. Th e plan ultimately (and incorrectly) concluded that tolling could not adequately fund the highway system because the Bureau underesti-mated population growth, increases in traffi c and the public’s willing-ness to pay tolls (Giff ord, 2003). Th ese miscalculations represented the Bureau’s underestimation of the economic benefi t of transportation improvements through specialization and trade.

Instead of using the limited superhighways for which the Bureau had performed the feasibility study (Figure 3), it used intra-city traffi c to justify intercity highway construction and recommended a system of more than 27,000 miles (Figure 4). Furthermore, the plan identifi ed cities as having particularly unique and challenging traffi c issues, but provided inadequate recommendations that relied on linking inner-city highway construction with urban renewal.

Interregional Highways (1944)

Giff ord (2003) identifi es Interregional Highways (1944) as the funda-mental plan for the 1956 interstate highway system -– albeit without the Highway Trust Fund to spur construction. Th e Bureau recommend-ed a 33,920-mile highway system (Figure 5) partly on the basis of ex-pected national economic benefi ts. As shown in Figure 6, the expected incremental economic (social) benefi t from each interstate mile tapered off signifi cantly after a network of approximately 33,000 miles. One can directly compare this 1944 fi gure based on the Bureau’s feasibility study

Figure 3. Originally evaluated toll highway system in Toll Roads and

Free Roads.

Figure 4. Ultimately recommended free highway system in Toll Roads

and Free Roads.

Figure 5. Recommended highway system in Interregional Highways.

PANORAMA 200910

with the conceptual diagram in Figure 2. It shares a common message with the theoretical arguments by Garrison and Levinson (2006) and Banister and Berechman (2000): the highest incremental socio-econom-ic benefi ts are experienced during the earliest stages of network invest-ment; once a transportation network is mature, additional investments yield marginal economic benefi t.

Interregional Highways (1944) included extensive recommendations for integrating highways into cities. Th ese recommendations are indica-tive of the direct confl icts of interest that can result from completing a national infrastructure plan without adequately understanding local needs (Taylor, 2000; Moynihan, 1960). Issues of inter-scale confl icts when completing national master plans are not unique to the 1944 study; they have characterized every federal transportation re-authori-zation to date.

Federal-Aid Highway Act of 1956

Th e Eisenhower Administration’s 1956 Federal-Aid Highway Act led di-rectly to the 45,000-mile Interstate Highway System and was the most signifi cant national transportation plan in terms of implementation, economic impact, and changing travel patterns. Although Interregional Highways already included the fundamental plan for modern inter-states, Eisenhower’s 1956 plan (see Figure 7) had several distinguishing features that enabled its full construction. First, Eisenhower’s plan in-cluded the gas tax as a long-term revenue source through the Highway Trust Fund. Second, the 1956 plan created a 90-percent federal subsidy as an incentive for states to construct interstates. Th ird, by making additional modifi cations to the interstate designations in the Yellow Book (BPR, 1955), Eisenhower’s plan passed Congress by accommodat-ing hesitant legislators with road building plans that appealed to their constituents (Schwartz, 1976).

Planning Recommendations and Conclusions

President Obama and Congress intend to stimulate the economy by investing in transportation and other infrastructure. We should not be overly optimistic. Transportation investment as a means of economic recovery will generate limited direct employment through construc-tion and resource extraction. Induced productivity gains and economic growth will likely be negligible. Instead, the greatest opportunities in-volve long-term strategic investment and new transportation technolo-gies for which planning will be important. Following are fi ve recom-mendations that would allow transportation infrastructure to provide capacity for future economic growth.

First, policy planning is more appropriate than national master planning for federal transportation policy. Eisenhower’s 1956 interstate master plan was highly eff ective at rapidly introducing a new transportation technology, high-speed automobile travel, and thereby radically reshap-ing national accessibility patterns and increasing productivity. In con-trast, policy plans have been better designed to guide decision-making processes and rethink more subtle interactions between transportation systems, society, and natural environments. Without a clear transporta-tion system or technology that would benefi t from national master plan-ning, few researchers or professionals argue for using a policy approach similar to the national interstate highway system. While new infrastruc-ture, such as that needed for possible large-scale conversion to electric vehicles, may warrant a coordinated national eff ort at some time, the next paradigm shift in transportation technology is far from clear.

Secondly, the real opportunity for economic growth through infrastruc-ture investment lies in using public capital to prepare for the next new transportation technologies and solutions. Th ese innovations will not materialize on their own accord. Private capital used for transporta-tion investment will likely market existing transportation technologies, particularly to rapidly industrializing countries such as China and India. Emphasis on return-on-investment in a sluggish fi nancial environment will likely divert profi t-seeking, private capital from funding research and development due to its short-term, diminishing marginal returns. Under these conditions, public capital investment would be best suited for in-novation in the fi elds of transportation, energy use, and climate change,

Figure 6. Expected economic impact of interregional highway build-out ac-

cording to Interregional Highways.

Figure 7. Designated interstate highways in Yellow Book.

11

and would likely generate signifi cant long-term benefi ts in the form of lower greenhouse gas emissions, more reliable energy sources, reduced fossil fuel dependence and a diminished role for oil geopolitics. Th ese are long-term strategies that are unlikely to be implemented through the short-term economic stimulus package and should be addressed in the re-authorization of SAFETEA-LU in the fall of 2009. Th ese long-term goals warrant policy plans with outcome-based evaluation and accountability; master planning would likely be ineff ective and counterproductive.

Th irdly, to prepare for the eventual changes in transportation technol-ogy, we should minimize institutional barriers that prevent collabora-tion on solving increasingly global and highly complex travel patterns, urbanization trends, and resource needs. Th ere is much discussion and hope for consistency and shared approaches on upcoming federal energy, climate, and transportation legislation. For example, according to Puentes (2008) the United States is currently the only industrialized country that does not coordinate national policy on diff erent transpor-tation modes. Inter-scale collaboration will be important in balancing national, state, and metropolitan interests, and must be addressed if land use and transportation policies are ever to be coordinated. Th e diffi culty in balancing inter-scale interests has been a defi ning feature of previous federal transportation legislation; suffi cient lessons are available to make improvements.

Fourthly, if policy makers decide that the short-term economic benefi ts of infrastructure investment warrant public fi nance, federal funds should invest in projects that would likely yield the highest marginal social and economic benefi ts. According to the Brookings Institution, metropolitan areas should be specifi cally targeted with infrastructure investment due to their critical role in the country. Th e 100 largest met-ropolitan areas house 65 percent of the nation’s population, produce 75 percent of gross domestic product, carry 78 percent of interstate miles, and serve 92 percent of air and transit passenger-miles (Puentes, 2008). Instead of transportation infrastructure investment in all places, as has been the case with past transportation bills, critical locations warrant strategic investment where the benefi ts would be highest. Th ere are steep political barriers to targeting investment in nationally strategic sites instead of in the jurisdictions of congressional gatekeepers and po-litical stakeholders. Th is battle has been waging for decades. However, the importance of government accountability, public ROI, and local investments of national consequence warrant this uphill fi ght.

Finally, regardless of the link between infrastructure and economic growth, investing in transportation gives us the opportunity to address much more basic issues: choosing infrastructure that supports the type of built environment that we desire and that increases our quality of life and access to opportunities. Choosing the appropriate portfolio of transportation mode choices and investment opportunities will continue to be a politically-charged topic that will probably remain de-volved to state DOTs and MPOs. Especially if the short-term prospects for transportation-induced economic growth are as dismal as some anticipate, choosing appropriate investments will at least represent a goal that generates social benefi ts. During the present period when no dominant new transportation technology has emerged, national policy will likely focus on marginal improvements in system effi ciency, human-environmental relations, climate change, and energy needs. Th ese objectives will likely lead to incremental upgrades, new technolo-gies, and eventually the next transportation paradigm.

ReferencesAmerica 2050. “An Infrastructure Vision for 21st Century America,” 12/18/2008. http://

www.america2050.org/AM2050Infra08sm.pdfApogee Research, Inc. and Greenhorne & O’Mara. Research on the relationship between

economic development and transportation investment. (NCHRP Report 418) Washington, DC: National Academy Press, 1998.

Bell, Michael E. et al. Macroeconomic analysis of the linkages between transportation improvements and economic performance. (NCHRP Report 389) Washington, DC: Transportation Research Board, National Research Council: National Academy Press, 1997.

Brookings Institution Metropolitan Policy Program. “A Bridge to Somewhere: Rethinking American Transportation for the 21st Century,” Washington, DC: Brookings Institution.

Denno, Neal. 1994. “ISTEA’s Innovative Funding: Something Old, New and Borrowed.” Transportation Quarterly 48, no. 3: 275-85.

Dilger, Robert Jay. American Transportation Policy. Westport, Connecticut: Praeger Publishers, 2003.

Dittmar, Hank. 1995. “A Broader Context for Transportation Planning.” Journal of the American Planning Association 61 no. 1:7-13

Fairbank, H. S., “Objects and methods of the state-wide highway planning surveys,” American Highways no. 16, vol. 1 (1937).

Flink, James J. Th e Automobile Age. Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press, 1988.Fund, John. “Don’t Distract Me With Facts: Let’s close our eyes and believe in ‘stimulus’,”

Wall Street Journal, Friday, January 23, 2009.Garrison, William L. and David M. Levinson. Th e Transportation Experience: Policy, Planning,

and Deployment. New York: Oxford University Press, 2006.Giff ord, Jonathan L., Flexible Urban Transportation. Amsterdam: Elsevier Science, 2003.Graham, Daniel Joseph and Kurt Van Dender. “Transport, Agglomeration, and Productivity:

Some Tests for Causality,” paper and presentation at Transportation Research Board, Monday, January 12, 2009.

Ibanez, Jose A. Gomez and Jeff rey Madrick. Economic Returns from Transportation Investment. Landsdowne, VA: Eno Transportation Foundation, Inc., 1996.

Irons, John S. Hearing on: “Infrastructure Investment and Economic Recovery,” U.S. House of Representatives Committee on Transportation and Infrastructure, October 29, 2008.

Jiwattanakulpaisarn, Piyapong, Robert B. Noland, and Daniel Joseph Graham. “Marginal Productivity of Expanding Highway Capacity” (09-1827) paper and presentation at Transportation Research Board, Monday, January 12, 2009.

Katz, Bruce, Robert Puentes and Scott Bernstein. “TEA-21 Reauthorization: Getting Transportation Right for Metropolitan America.” Washington, D.C.: Th e Brookings Institution; 2003 Mar(Transportation Reform). http://www.brookings.edu/es/urban/publications/tea21.pdf

Mishel, Lawrence, Ross Eisenbrey and John Irons, “Strategy for economic rebound: Smart stimulus to counteract the economic slowdown” Economic Policy Institute, January 11, 2008.

Moynihan, Daniel P., “New Roads and Urban Chaos,” Th e Reporter, April 14, 1960. Nelson, Richard, and Sidney Winter. 1982: An Evolutionary Th eory of Economic Change.

Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press.Rose, Mark H., Bruce E. Seely, and Paul F. Barrett. Th e Best Transportation System in the

World. Th e Ohio State University Press: Columbus, 2008.Puentes, Robert. “Road Blocked,” Th e New Republic, November 13, 2008.Schwartz, Gary T., “Urban Freeways and the Interstate System,” Southern California Law

Review, vol. 49 (1976).Smith, Adam. 1776. An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations. Chapter

3: “Th at the Division of Labour Is Limited by the Extent of the Market,” Indianapolis: Liberty Classics (1981).

Taylor, Brian D., “When Finance Leads Planning: Urban Planning, Highway Planning, and Metropolitan Freeways in California,” Journal of Planning Education and Research, vol. 20 (2000).

U.S. Bureau of Public Roads, “Toll Roads and Free Roads: Message from the President of the United States,” House Document 272, 76th Congress, 1st Session (1939).

U.S. Bureau of Public Roads, “Interregional Highways: Message from the President of the United States,” House Document 379, 78th Congress, 2nd Session (1944).

U.S. Bureau of Public Roads, “General Location of National System of Interstate Highways: Including All Additional Routes at Urban Areas Designated in September 1955,” Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Offi ce (1955).

U.S. Federal Highway Administration. America’s Highways 1776-1976: A History of the Federal-Aid Program. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Offi ce (1977).

Winston, Cliff ord, “How Effi cient Is Current Infrastructure Spending and Pricing?” Is Th ere a Shortfall in Public Capital Investment?, Alicia H. Munnell, ed. Federal Reserve Bank of Boston (1990).

PANORAMA 200912

by TINA CHANG

Improving Slum Conditions with Public-Private Partnerships

IntroductionGlobal urbanization poses signifi cant economic, environmental, and social challenges. Among the many implications of urbanization, this paper focuses on the exacerbated issue of urban poverty, and more specifi cally, urban slum dwellers. Ahmedabad, India, is used as a case study for evaluating how public-private partnerships can ad-dress the improvement of slum conditions. Th is paper suggests that the complicated nature of slums requires less conventional and more innovative collaborations that involve not only the public and private sectors, but also voluntary entities, such as non-governmental organizations, and those most aff ected by such eff orts – the slum dwellers themselves. Furthermore, this paper suggests that projects geared toward improving slum conditions may greatly benefi t from public-private partnerships that also include an element of economic development.

The Challenge of Slums: Beyond Housing

Slum Dwellers

“If cities do not begin to deal more constructively with poverty, poverty may begin to deal

more destructively with cities.”

Robert McNamara, 1975 (World Bank President 1961-1978)

13

According to the United Nations, approximately 50 percent of the glob-al urban population can be classifi ed as slum dwellers—individuals who suff er from inadequate access to safe water, sanitation and other infra-structure; poor structural quality of housing; overcrowding; or insecure residential status. In the least developed countries, estimates of slum dwellers amount to approximately 78 percent of the urban population (UN Habitat, 2003) —a presence so great that middle- to high-income communities are but enclaves amidst a backdrop of poverty. Lack of access to formal employment, credit, education, and proper health care further characterize the plight of slum dwellers. As Cities Alliance aptly observes, slums result from failed policies, bad governance, corruption, inappropriate regulation, dysfunctional land markets, unresponsive fi nancial systems, and a fundamental lack of political will (2000). Th us, while inadequate housing certainly comprises a signifi cant facet of the slum challenge, shelter remains but one component of a larger develop-ment problem.

When couched in the larger political and economic context, it becomes clear that improving slum conditions necessitates the eff ort of not only governments, but also community members, entrepreneurs, and slum dwellers themselves. Th e past 50-plus years of housing development in emerging markets has demonstrated the shortcomings of both the public and private sectors in providing aff ordable, scalable solutions to slum problems, especially solutions that truly target the demographic group in greatest need (Payne, 1999). Th is history is littered with pub-lic sector corruption, ineffi ciency, infl exibility and private sector greed, opportunism and self-interest. However, newer, innovative collabora-tions addressing these perceived inadequacies off er hope. Yet even these gross overgeneralizations of past shortcomings do not adequately capture the barriers to slum improvement. While public private col-laborations off er an important tool toward arriving at a solution, they cannot be abstracted from the history, context, and specifi city of the situation at hand. As Gulyani and Tulukdar (2008) point out through their research in Nairobi, slum generalizations do not necessarily

characterize the project question. Appropriate understanding of slum conditions is crucial to applying the necessary approach, resources, and solutions. One size does not fi t all, nor can partnerships be perceived as the panacea for slums.

Slum upgrading eff orts, especially in attempts to bring projects to scale, typically hinge upon fundamental development issues: land tenure, fi nancing mechanisms, existing land regulations, as well as political will and community participation. Successfully engaging the private sector, especially in the form of partnerships, depends upon the status and existence of these factors.

Public-Private Partnerships

Like slums, many variations and defi nitions of public-private partner-ships exist. A good working defi nition, though, is that a public-private partnership is “a voluntary, stable collaborative eff ort between two or more public and private autonomous organizations to jointly develop products and services, sharing risks, expenses, and benefi ts.” (Ysa, 2007) Th e rationale behind creating public-private partnerships is sim-ple: Th e private sector typically has access to upfront capital and a track record of delivering products effi ciently, while the public sector controls the regulating environment and, occasionally, crucial resources needed to implement a project, such as land. Th is reasoning has facilitated the use of public-private partnerships almost uncritically, as observed by Keating (1998), who noted that partnerships have become nearly universal in urban policy and governance. Th ey are perceived as a tool that could off er low-cost solutions to urgent problems while transcend-ing ideological divides.

While partnerships are not new, primacy of public-private partnerships since the 1980s bespeaks a larger political and cultural phenomenon that has elevated the perceived effi ciency and resourcefulness of the private sector (Rubin & Stanciewicz, 2001). Th is phenomenon is con-sistent with Structural Adjustment Programs that were implemented in developing countries to privatize and reduce external barriers to the free market. Th e appeal of partnerships is easily understood, yet, their seeming ubiquity belies the complexity involved in their formation. As demonstrated by partnership experience in transportation infra-structure provision, many preconditions must usually be met before suffi cient risks are mitigated to render the venture appealing for the private sector. In the case of infrastructure, a change in law must often times occur, accompanied by feasibility, social and environmental stud-ies, and willingness-to-pay assessments (Queroz, 1996). Th e private sector must believe a positive return on investment is possible. Th us the public sector role typically involves risk mitigation measures to engender more favorable conditions. Th is necessitates a rather sophis-ticated public sector, with a strong legal framework. Logically, then, public private partnerships have been less prolifi c in addressing slum conditions. Characterized by rampant poverty, unstable terrain, and at times high instances of crime, slums are simply perceived as too risky. As Chauhan and Lal (1999) suggest, private participation may be best positioned when stemming from “enlightened self interest,” whereby a vested stake in the project exists.

Due to the complexity and multitude of underlying issues presented by slum settlements, conventional public partnerships fail to adequately address this complexity. On a “simpler” problem, such as highway im-

SLUM DWELLERS

RURAL DWELLERS

URBAN DWELLERS

Slum dwellers comprise about 50 percent of the global urban population.

PANORAMA 200914

emerged as a commercial stronghold during 19th century, and now pos-sesses a diversifi ed economy, ranging from textiles to telecommunica-tions. Since its founding, the city has attracted many migrant workers from other areas of the Gujarat State, where Ahmedabad is located. Th e city’s attractive economy for underpaid workers, consistent with the phenomenon of urbanization more generally, contributes to the high presence of slums. After all, slums are typically a function of inade-quate housing markets, when the formal sector cannot adequately meet housing demand, resulting in the creation of informal settlements. Th e urban agglomeration of Ahmedabad grew 21 percent between 1981 and 1991, and 22 percent between 1991 and 2001 (AMC, 2007). Ahmedabad’s current population is estimated to be approximately 4.5 million, with a slum population of more than 400,000 — nearly 10 percent (AMC, 2007). It should also be noted that the national housing policy in India supports slum-upgrade eff orts, providing at least some political and policy support towards such eff orts. Again, generating private sector interest is predicated upon fi nancial and legal stability — frameworks that cannot be taken for granted in developing, low-income areas.

Ahmedabad Slum Networking Program

Ahmedabad’s Slum Networking Program commenced in 1995 as an adaptation of Britain’s Department for International Development (DFID)-funded Indore Habitat Project (Gautam, 2008). Th e program continues to exist as a partnership, though the partnership’s nature has evolved. At its inception, approximately 3 million people called Ahmedabad home (AMC, 2001), 40 percent of whom were considered slum dwellers (Chauhan & Lal, 1999). To launch the SNP, Himanshu Parikh, the sanitation infrastructure engineer of the Indore Habitat Project, garnered the support of Arvind Mills, an emerging global cor-poration with headquarters in the city, and the Ahmedabad Municipal Corporation (AMC). From this partnership emerged three objectives: 1) to improve the physical and non-physical infrastructure facilities within selected slum areas; 2) to facilitate the process of community development; and 3) to develop a city-level organization for slum net-working and infrastructure improvement (Chuahuan & Lal, 1999).

Th e fi rst venture undertaken by this partnership was a citywide pilot project that included the upgrade of four slum neighborhoods, aff ect-ing 3,300 households and 22,000 people. Physical upgrades in the project included implementation of roads and pavers, storm water and wastewater management, individual water supply and toilets, and plantings. In addition, the project had a social component, which in-volved the organization of community groups for women and children, educational activities for pre-school-aged children, and linkages to the formal sector via vocational training and access to fi nancing for starting

COST COMPONENTCOST PER FAMILY

(Rs)

AMC Slum

DwellersArvind Mills SAATH

Physical Development 6000 33.33% 33.33% 33.33% 0%

Physical Survey 30 100% 0% 0% 0%

Design & Consultancy 120 100% 0% 0% 0%

Community Development 1000 70% 0% 0% 3000%

Community Corpus 100 100% 0% 0%

ORGANIZATIONS & THEIR SHARE

plementation, partnerships typically are instrumental, where partners bid for roles and then have clearly established roles (Ysa, 2007). Th e public sector conducts all analysis and studies required to ensure feasi-bility, and a private investor or concessionaire is competitively solicited to implement the project according to a negotiated project structure, such as Build-Own-Transfer or Build-Own-Operate. While the project can benefi t from a separate entity that deals with potentially displaced residents, projects typically become implemented through straightfor-ward deals between individual land owners and the subject government agency, or the agency and the concessionaire. Th is rationale seems valid, as highway implementation — though large in scale — does not usually require the same complicated interaction with various aspects of community and economic development that slum improvement requires. Th e nature of the problem is vastly diff erent and thus requires a diff erent dynamic.

In contrast, partnerships established for the betterment of slums tend to be more organic in nature and can be classifi ed as “network partnerships” (Ysa, 2007). Th ese partnerships involve interdependent, adaptable relationships between various actors based on trust (at times in lieu of contracts), and generally include an entity other than govern-ment and concessionaire. Th is third entity is tasked with more socially-oriented goals, such as facilitating steps to integrate the settlement in question into its larger community. Earlier slum upgrading projects more closely resembled infrastructure implementation without much coordination or interaction with the aff ected community. While such projects may have, prima facie, improved the slums, the livelihoods of dwellers were not necessarily improved; that requires not only physical infrastructure improvements, but also opportunities for residents to become integrated citizens of society.

Th e emergence of network partnerships underscores a larger cultural paradigm shift, recognizing that neither the government nor the pri-vate sector — in some instances even together — adequately addresses social conditions. Th e multifaceted nature of communities, whether slums, suburbs, or cities, are much more nuanced than simply gover-nance and fi nance, which the public and private sectors respectively represent. Integration of a third sector, comprised of NGOs, CBOS, and community representatives, introduces an element of humanity that can easily be overlooked by the strict instrumentality of the two conventional actors.

Network Partnerships in Slum Improvement InterventionsTh e following section highlights the case of Ahmedabad, India. Th is specifi c case does not cover the mul-titude of slums and their variations, but it off ers insight to how a network partnership can help address the challenging task of improving slum conditions.

Ahmedabad, India

Ahmedabad slum, which has an extensive, 500-year history, fi rst Table 1. Cost breakdown of the Ahmedabad Slum Networking Program. Source: Tripathi, 1999.

15

up businesses. SAATH, a public charitable trust NGO that had been working with slums since 1989, developed a strategy with the Strategic Health Alliance for Relief to Distressed Areas Trust (SHARDA Trust), the implementing agency chosen by Arvind to carry out the program’s social component. Although AMC passed a resolution to formalize the project, the language was extremely vague and written in such a way that placed most of the burden on Arvind Mills. Further indicative of the organic nature of this network partnership, no contracts were writ-ten between actors.

To avoid the burden falling on any single entity, the actors split the cost of the pilot project as shown in Table 1. Ultimately, the pilot project was scaled down from 3,300 households to only 181, due to the inability of some households in three of the four slums to raise their own funds. In spite of this, the project proved successful on several fronts. First, implementation of physical infrastructure occurred in a timely, cost-eff ective manner, and remained within budget. A summary of infrastructure is provided in Table 2. Second, largely with the help of SAATH, community involvement occurred at every juncture of the process, from project design to payment of contractors. Th e community even established a community fund, amounting to Rs 100 per house-hold fund, to ensure maintenance of the infrastructure. Lastly, SHAR-DA Trust convinced the Self Employed Women’s Association (SEWA) Bank to provide and underwrite all loans taken by project participants who did not possess suffi cient upfront funds to participate.

Where the project proved less successful was 1) bringing the project to its initially proposed scale — the impact of 181 households is much smaller than that of 3,300 households; 2) administrative delays due to miscommunication at AMC, resulting in a 450-day response time in some cases (Chauhan & Lal, 1999); and 3) community develop-ment, seemingly due to mismatched values and expectations between SHARDA Trust and SAATH. Whereas SHARDA Trust seemed to expect greater skills development training, SAATH focused the majority of community development eff orts on public health.

Th ese missed opportunities speak to the challenges faced in maintain-ing alliances. AMC did not feel it was treated as an equal partner, while SAATH felt that SHARDA Trust was unduly pressuring the organization to achieve results. While the organic nature of this partnership allowed for greater participation among various entities, especially between

community members and NGOs, lack of clearly delineated roles prohib-ited more eff ective action to take place. Th at no legal agreement existed between the actors essentially ensured mismatched expectations. Clearly AMC’s resolution, which relegated the city to a facilitator role, was either poorly communicated or not fully embraced by the many bureaucracies within AMC.

Ahmedabad Slum Networking Program: Current Eff orts

Since the completion of the 1995 project, Ahmedabad’s Slum Network-ing Project (SNP) has evolved to become an infrastructure and public health program (Gautam, 2008), where basic infrastructure projects are coupled with public health training sessions. As of May 2008, 45 slum communities, covering nearly 8,400 households and approximately 39,000 people, have benefi tted from the project. Th e cost sharing structure has changed from a 40-30-30 split between public, private, and community to a 80-20 public-community split. While AMC covers 80 percent of the cost, individual households are required to contribute at least Rs 2,100 as a one-time contribution. Families who do not pos-sess these funds can take out a small loan from SEWA Bank, a micro-fi nance establishment that now serves as a partner in the SNP. SAATH continues to be a key player in the program.

More than 275 health training sessions covering basic health and hygiene have been held, 18,000 children immunized, and nine childcare establishments opened. In order to ensure sustainability of the pro-gram, AMC provides a written assurance that people will not be evicted for 10 years, providing at least some tenure security (Gautam, 2008). Moving forward, the city’s SNP plans to expand from 45 to 120 slums, impacting more than 24,000 households and 120,000 people. Vado-dora Municipal Corporation, another major city in the State of Gujarat, has adopted a similar program, including a required household contri-bution from aff ected residents. Th ere is also discussion of integrating SNP into State policy, as well as creating a Special Purpose Vehicle to enable scaling up of the project (Gautam, 2008).

Lessons Learned

Th e longevity of Ahmedabad’s Slum Networking Program speaks to the success of partnerships, especially network partnerships that remain organic, and allow for the fl exibility required when dealing with less straightforward projects such as slums. Th e inaugural project would not have been possible without Arvind Mills’ contributions, SHARDA Trust’s management, or SAATH’s work on behalf of the community. Current SNP eff orts would be less robust without the continued support of SAATH, which provides public health training and community representation, and would not subsist without SEWA Bank, which empowers community members to invest in their livelihoods. However, questions regarding the sustainability of long-term partnerships with the private sector remain unanswered.

Th e evolution of Ahmedabad’s SNP has, thus far, manifested from a public-private partnership to a public-voluntary partnership, whereby AMC provides 80 percent of upgrading costs, SAATH off ers public health training and community representation, and participants are responsible for the remaining portion. SEWA Bank provides loans to households that cannot make these contributions upfront. A public-

TYPE OF INFRASTRUCTURE QUANTITY

Concrete Pathways 1 km

Sewerage 1.184 km

Main Water Supply Line 700 m

Connecting Water Supply Line 750 m

Electric Poles 18

Manholes 9

Inspection Chamgers 46

Gully Traps 181

INFRASTRUCTURE DEVELOPMENT

Table 2. Summary of infrastructure developed for the Ahmedabad Slum Networking

Program. Source: Tripathi, 1999.

PANORAMA 200916

voluntary sector model may certainly be sustainable, though perhaps at the risk of reducing scalabilty due to high costs borne by the public sector.

Arvind Mill’s participation in SNP’s inaugural project was an act of “enlightened self interest” (Chauhan & Lal, 1999). Th e corporation’s emerging global presence, and the fact that Ahmedabad serves as com-pany headquarters, provided suffi cient incentive to assist in improving the city’s image. Unfortunately, excessive bureaucracy and delayed responses on the part of AMC likely deterred continued collaboration with Arvind Mils. Th us, regulation streamlining is one step that can be taken toward creating an inviting investment environment for the private sector.

Ultimately, however, private sector entities such as Arvind Mills are interested in steady revenue streams, cost recovery, and eventually profi t generation. After all, the downscaling of the initial project was economic in nature, as it resulted from the inability of households to pay. Conceivably, AMC, Arvind Mills, SAATH, and other qualifi ed enti-ties could have off ered stronger skill development training, whereby the very poor are economically enabled to incur steady income streams, to help pay back for implemented improvements. AMC might have provided economic incentives, such as tax benefi ts, to Arvind Mills for providing jobs and job training to community residents.

Th us, unless slum upgrade projects are transformed from physical treatments to larger development projects that economically empower residents, such projects will only superfi cially address the issue. While the physicality of slums may improve, the livelihood of slum dwellers remains a challenge. Without couching slums in larger development projects that create stable environments for investors, perhaps the pos-sibility of sustainable public private partnerships remains premature. Ahmedabad’s SNP clearly demonstrates the importance of network partnerships—ones that are organic and malleable to projects needs. Yet it behooves such partnerships to evolve in focus, mirroring the tripartite nature of its sectoral structure, and grow from a public health and infrastructure focus to also include economic development.

ReferencesAngel, Sholmo, et. al. Th e Dynamics of Global Urban Expansion. Transportation and Urban

Development Program. Th e World Bank. Washington, D.C. 2005.

Buckley, Robert and Jerry Kalarickal. Shelter Strategies for the Urban Poor: Idiosyncratic and Successful, but hardly Mysterious. World Bank Policy Research Working Paper 3427, Washington, D.C. 2004.

Buckley, Robert and Jerry Kalarickal. Th irty Years of World Bank Shelter Lending. Washington, D.C. 2006.

Chauhan, Uttura and Niraj Lal. Public-private Partnerships for Urban Poor in Ahmedabad: A Slum Project. In: Economic and Political Weekly, Vol. 34, No. 10/11, pp. 636-642, 1999.

Garau, Pietro, Elliot Sclar, and Gabriella Carolini. “A home in the city.” UN Millennium Project. Sterling, VA. 2005.

Guatam, I.P. Mixing Financial Sources for Slum Upgrading/Prevention, Ahmedabad Slum Networking Programme – India. FIG/UN Habitat, “Improving Slum Conditions Th ough Innovative Financing” Seminar, 2008.

Gulyani, Sumila and Debabrata Talukdar. Slum Real Estate: Th e Low-Quality High-Price Puzzle In Nairobi’s Slum Rental Market and its implications for Th eory and Practice. In: World Development. Vol. 26, No. 10 pp. 1916-1937, 2008.

Hoek-Smit, Marja: Setting the Framework. Connecting Public and Private Sector. KfW Financial Sector Development Sympoisum. KfW, Berlin. 2006.

Keating, M. Commentary. Public-private partnerships in the United States from a European perspective. In J. Pierre (Ed.), Partnerships in urban governance. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1998.

Otiso, Kefa M. State, voluntary and private sector partnerships for slum upgrading and basic service delivery in Nairobi City, Kenya. In: Cities, Vol. 20, No. 4 pp. 221-229, 2003.

Payne, Geoff rey. Making Common Ground, Intermediate Technology Publications, 1999.

Queiroz, Cesar. Public-Private Partnerships in Highways in Transition Economies, Recent Experience and Future Prospect. In: Transportation Research Record, pp. 34-40, 1996.

Rubin, Julia Sass and Gegory M. Stankiewicz. Th e Possible Pitfalls of Public-Private Partnerships, In Journal of Urban Aff airs. Vol. 23, No. 2, pp. 133-153, 2001.

Th e Challenge of Slums, Global Report on Human Settlements, United Nations Settlements Program, 2003.

Tripathi, Dweijendra. Slum Networking in Ahmedabad: Th e Sanjay Hagar Pilot Project. Development Planning Unit. University College London, 1999.

Ysa, Tamyko. Governance forms in Urban Public-Private Partnerships. In: International Public Management Journal.; Vol. 10, No.1, pp. 35-57, 2007.

17

by DONNIE MALEY & RACHEL WEINBERGER

Does Gas Price Fuel Transit Ridership?

Introduction

Drivers saw the average retail cost of gasoline in the United States increase by 30 per-cent during the fi rst six months of 2008 (Energy Information Administration, 2009). Over that same year, Americans took more transit trips than in any year since Congress passed the Federal-Aid Highway Act in 1956 (Cooper, 2009). While the existence of a correlation there is intuitive, the exact nature of that relationship is more complex. Th is study investigates the interaction of those two variables in the Philadelphia region between 2001 and 2008.

Th is paper presents an analysis that could be more useful than other measures to pre-dict transit demand as a result of gas prices; it determines there is indeed a correlation in the Philadelphia region. Later, the paper explores questions relating to this analysis for the future.

In economic terms, the impact of the cost of a good on the demand for its consumption is called elasticity. One can also examine cross-elasticity, or the impact of the cost of one good on the demand for a substitute good. Accordingly, higher gas prices can result in reduced driving demand because people decide to take fewer or shorter trips (elastic-ity) or because they decide to take alternative modes (cross-elasticity).

Past research has sought a cross-elasticity value or threshold for gas price and transit ridership (percent change in transit ridership divided by percent change in gasoline

PANORAMA 200918

price); most studies have pegged this number somewhere between 0.10 and 0.40. But sensitivity to the price of gas depends greatly on a variety of factors, limiting the applicability of a singular cross-elasticity value for practicing planners in diff erent regions.

Studies have shown how local diff erences in modes available, qual-ity and cost of transit service, land use, user characteristics and trip characteristics impact sensitivity to gas price (Bomberg and Kockelman, 2007; Currie and Phung, 2007; Haire and Machemehl, 2007; Litman, 2008). Another key consideration is that elasticity depends on the slope of the demand curve and is not likely to be constant through all levels of cost. While consumers might not be sensitive to gas price changes between $1 and $2 (a full 100-percent increase), they might be much more sensitive to changes between $3 and $4 (a mere 33-percent increase). Elasticity can also vary over time, with weaker reactions in the short term and stronger reactions in the long term (Currie and Phung, 2007; Kain, 1983; Voith, 1991).

Nevertheless, this and past studies have found that gas price does have a statistically signifi cant impact on transit ridership. A regression analysis like the one presented here could be a more useful tool than a cross-elasticity value for planners trying to forecast transit demand for a particular region or community. Several gas price scenarios for Phila-delphia are presented, and the strength of the results should encourage both operations and capital planners at local transit agencies to explore how well their systems would perform under various gas price condi-tions. What might be an excellent opportunity to attract and retain higher levels of ridership will be lost if improper planning leads to inef-fi cient or overcrowded service.

Data

Th is analysis examines two divisions, Regional Rail (trains) and City Transit (bus, subway and trolley), of the Philadelphia region’s larg-est transit provider, the Southeastern Pennsylvania Transportation Authority (SEPTA). Th e Regional Rail Division provides service on 13 rail lines, in both the city and suburbs. Th e City Transit Division provides service on 76 bus routes, nine light rail/streetcar routes and two subway/elevated routes. SEPTA reports ridership numbers on a monthly basis. However, some months report four weeks of data and others report fi ve weeks of data. To correct for this inconsistency, each month’s total was divided by the number of weeks of reporting. Th ere-fore, the ridership levels used in the analysis are the weekly averages for each month rather than the weekly totals for each month.

Th ere were no signifi cant changes to the level of transit service in the region during the time period of this study, but it is worth noting that there were two fare increases and one strike. Th e sizes of the fare in-creases — in 2001 and 2007 — varied across modes but did not signifi -cantly impact ridership. Th e strike in 2005 shut down the City Transit division for one week. Ridership totals for the month of November in that year were signifi cantly aff ected and therefore removed from the analysis.

Gas prices were recorded from PhillyGasPrices.com, a local subsidiary of GasBuddy.com, a gas price sharing website whose members post the latest gas price at their local stations on a daily basis. Th at informa-

Figure 1. Time series analysis of Regional Rail ridership and gas price.

Figure 2. Time series analysis of City Transit ridership and gas price.

tion was averaged on a monthly basis to align with the transit ridership data. Gas price data was not adjusted for infl ation; the study period is not long enough to include drastic changes in the value of the dollar. Additionally, because the cost of gas has iconic signifi cance, people take notice when the per-gallon price shifts between whole dollar amounts. Th e study sought to capture those moments.

Results

A simple time-series analysis reveals some correlation but is obscured by the fact that all variables naturally experience seasonal variation (Figures 1 and 2). For transit ridership, variation is further broken into monthly patterns. Nationally, ridership tends to be highest in March and October, and lowest in February, July and August. Th e present research found similar peaks and valleys in Philadelphia. City Transit shows greater volatility than Regional Rail, likely because of the vital role SEPTA plays in transporting children for the School District of Philadelphia. Small valleys appear every summer and holiday season. Gas price also follows seasonal variations, with higher prices generally in the summer, as well as spikes following major world events, such as the invasion of Iraq and Hurricane Katrina.

19

gas price term and dummy variables for seasonal variation. Compared to Model 2, Model 3 shows a lower R-squared and a weaker t-statistic for City Transit but higher values for Regional Rail. Th e suggestion is that a non-linear function could better explain how Regional Rail riders respond to gas price.

Discussion and Conclusions

Regressions test the explanatory power of one variable with regard to another. Our results demonstrate that gas price can play a signifi cant role in explaining transit ridership in the Philadelphia region between 2001 and 2008. Forecasting transit ridership at even higher gas prices is more diffi cult. Past trends do not necessarily dictate future ones. Still, the results provide insight into several key questions that planners should consider in their own analyses.

If past trends did continue, what might transit demand look like in Philadel-phia?

When past trends are extrapolated into $5 and $6/gallon gas prices, the estimates of demand are striking. However, with many Regional Rail

ModelNumber

Description

Regional Rail City Transit

Coefficient R Squared T Statistic Coefficient R Squared T Statistic

1 Linear Regression 58,458 0.566 10.766 174,040 0.280 5.942

2

Linear Regressionwith DummyVariables to Accountfor Seasonal Variation

59,408 0.695 12.779 178,117 0.782 10.834

3Linear Regressionwith Gas PriceSquared Term

0.738 14.227 0.770 10.360

To gauge the correlation between ridership and gas price, a scatter plot is more useful. Plots of all weekly average ridership numbers by month matched with their corresponding gas prices are in Figures 3 and 4. A signifi cant degree of the scatter in these plots is due to the seasonal variations discussed above. Yet even still, a relationship is visually apparent. Linear regressions of these scatter plots yielded sta-tistically signifi cant t-statistics but relatively weak R-squared values, as seen in Model 1 on Table 1.

Th e model was improved by running a multi-variate regression to control for seasonal eff ects. Model 2 used gasoline price and a series of binary variables to indicate the month; February was omitted as the reference category. Th e multivariable regressions had better explanatory power and more signifi cant correla-tion coeffi cients.

Th ese models suggest that each additional dollar in the price of gas is correlated with an additional 59,408 rides/week on Regional Rail and 178,117 rides/week on City Transit, seasonal variations notwithstand-ing. When put in a system perspective, the estimated impact of each extra dollar in gas price on ridership is greater for Regional Rail. Table 2 shows that each dollar’s additional riders represent a roughly 10.2 percent increase for Regional Rail and only a 5.4 percent increase for City Transit. Table 2 also shows each division’s predicted weekly rider-ship when the model’s trends are extrapolated to a gas price of $5 and $6/gallon. Diffi culties in making such forecasts are discussed in the following section.

Finally, we tested the possibility of a non-linear relationship. It is visually apparent that Regional Rail ridership levels sit within a limited range while gas prices remain between $1 and $2; it does not exceed 600,000 trips/week until gas hits $2.20/gallon. Th ere is great variation between $2 and $3. Th en, after $3.20/gallon, ridership does not dip be-low 700,000/week. A regression called Model 3 was run with a squared

Table 1. Model results.

Figure 3. Regional Rail weekly rides plotted with gas price. Figure 4. City Transit weekly rides plotted with gas price.

PANORAMA 200920

lines already running at or near capacity during rush hour, it is diffi cult to forecast what actual ridership would be. When SEPTA receives its order of new rail cars starting in the fall of 2009, its system capacity will be expanded, opening the possibility of accommodating additional ridership.

But there is also a possibility that increased transit demand won’t correlate with gas price as strongly as it has in the past. For example, a majority of the trips that easily switched from car to transit did so when gas prices moved from $2 to $4/gallon. In that case, increases to $5 and $6/gallon would have a smaller impact on ridership, at least in the short term. Th e truth is likely somewhere in between, making it possible to view those striking predictions as opportunities to change the way people think about their travel decisions.

Is the impact diff erent on diff erent modes?

Our results, as well as those of other researchers, suggest the impact is diff erent on various modes. One possible explanation could be vehicle availability. Th ough there are Regional Rail stations in some Philadel-phia neighborhoods, the majority of riders live in suburban coun-ties where vehicle ownership rates are higher. While 64.2 percent of households in Philadelphia have access to at least one vehicle, between 88.7 percent (Delaware County) and 94.9 percent (Bucks County) of households in the suburban counties have access to at least one vehicle (U.S. Census, 2008). Th erefore, more people in the City Transit catch-ment area do not have the option of traveling by car, while more people in the Regional Rail catchment area do.

Trip purpose and characteristics could also play a role. A greater share of Regional Rail trips are home-to-work than on City Transit. Pub-lic transportation can be more attractive for home-based work trips because they are predictable, don’t require carting as many items (as in shopping trips) and usually occur during peak hours when frequency of service is highest. Regional Rail trips are generally longer than City Transit trips. Since longer trips involve more fuel consumption, the incentive to leave the car at home might be greater in these situations. Regional Rail has a higher operating speed, higher vehicle comfort and a higher quality of service, making it a more attractive substitute mode.

RegionalRail

City Transit

Average Weekly Ridership Since 2001 579,812 3,305,277

Approximate % Change in Weekly Ridershipfor Every $1 Increase in Fuel Cost

10.2% 5.4%

Estimated Weekly Ridership at $5/Gallon 773,464 3,947,314

Estimated Weekly Ridership at $6/Gallon 832,872 4,125,431

Table 2. Estimated system impact based on Model 2.

Th is study did not distinguish City Transit modes such as heavy and light rail from street car and bus. Future research could examine the viable hypothesis that those former modes have qualities making them more sensitive to gas price than the latter modes.

Is the impact diff erent in diff erent places?

While this study does not make any comparative analyses of other regions or transit systems, this and past research does provide support for the claim that the impact is diff erent in varying places. Philadelphia is a transit-oriented region, or at least much more so than many other areas of the country. In some cases, its infrastructure and land use pat-terns make transit a faster and less expensive option than driving.

Th e diff erences in mode qualities likely play a role here. Regions where transit systems are solely bus-based might not experience as great an increase in ridership as gas prices climb. Th ese results could provide evidence that investment in higher quality modes that operate in a separate right-of-way is more eff ective, if the goal is to attract travelers out of automobiles.

Is sensitivity to gas price diff erent when prices fall as opposed to rise?

Th e fi rst few months of 2009 have seen gas prices again fall below $2/gallon. Yet ridership has remained somewhat steady. Th is sustained growth could be evidence that once prices compel people to form new transit habits, some fi nd a reason to keep them. Th is is an important question for future research.

How does sensitivity to gas price vary in the short and the long runs?

Following the oil crises of the 1970s, researchers examined this issue thoroughly and concluded that elasticities were more signifi cant in the long-term than in the short-term (Kain, 1983; Wang and Skinner, 1984). In the short-term, people can make fewer trips or travel in other ways. In the long-term, they might buy a more fuel-effi cient car, move closer to their place of employment or otherwise change their lifestyle. (In Philadelphia, car sharing is now a solution for many people.) Some researchers then concluded that the most notable reaction would be to improve fuel economy. But the exact implications for transit may be diff erent today. Th is question also merits further study.

A related issue concerns jolts to the market as opposed to sustained trends. Gas price spikes have been the subject of study (Currie and Phung, 2007; Hughes, Knittel and Sperling, 2006). Th ey might be the easiest but not the best time to check for correlations to transit rider-ship. Spikes provide a discrete measurable jolt to the market where it is easier to test for a discrete measurable jolt to transit ridership. How-ever, price spikes following events such as the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, the start of the Iraq War or Hurricane Katrina might have been viewed by consumers as just that — “events.” People might have less of an impetus to change behavior if they have reason to believe increased fuel costs are tied to a short-term incident or temporary market condition.

Since fall of 2006, and especially in the fi rst eight months of 2008, gas prices rose without a singular jolt to the market. Sustained trends might have suggested we were entering a new era and not simply weathering a storm, making for a diff erent decision-making context.

21

Forecasting gas price is an entirely diff erent matter, and thankfully not the subject of this paper, but it is an issue to keep in mind.

How might trends be diff erent at even higher gas prices?

As mentioned above, forecasting a future relationship between gas price and transit ridership is diff erent from explaining a past one. But a theoretical model might more closely resemble a cumulative distribu-tion function where mode split shifts in favor of transit as the diff er-ence grows between the cumulative cost of transit (fare, time, quality of service) and the cumulative cost of auto (gas, parking, time, etc.).

Th is type of model would have an upper and a lower bound of transit ridership. Th e lower bound would be the number of riders who would take transit even at extremely low gas prices, either because of personal preference or for lack of alternate means. Th e issue of an upper bound would be more complicated. Eventually, growth rates would start to fl atten either as transit capacity fi lled or as demand began to tap out. (Some trips will never be well-served by transit.) But predicting or modeling this upper bound is not currently feasible. If transit growth accelerates through $4/gallon, as non-linear Model 3 might suggest, then we don’t have data points yet to predict a fl attening. Only when, at even higher gas prices, transit growth begins to slow, could one begin to estimate where that upper bound might be.

In the meantime, the outlook for transit is good. Th e evidence present-ed suggests that signifi cant numbers of travelers are willing to choose transit, especially if provided with high quality mode options. Planners should consider an analysis similar to the one presented here for their own regions, taking into account local land uses, transit options and traveler preferences. Travel demand forecasting should involve various fuel cost scenarios, given how strong the impact appears to be. Even basic regressions tell a convincing story about what opportunities exist to increase our use of modes that build more livable and sustainable communities.

ReferencesAmerican Fact Finder. 2000 U.S. Census. www.census.gov. Accessed Nov. 12, 2008.

Bomberg, M. and Kockelman, K. Traveler Response to the 2005 Gas Price Spike. Presented at 86th Annual Meeting of the Transportation Research Board, Washington, D.C., 2007.

Cooper, M. Transit Use Hit Five-Decade High in 2008 as Gas Price Rose. New York Times. March 9, 2009.

Currie, G., and Phung, J. Transit Ridership, Auto Gas Prices, and World Events: New Drivers of Change? In Transportation Research Record: Journal of the Transportation Research Board, No. 1992, Transportation Research Board of the National Academies, Washington, D.C., 2007, pp. 3-10.

Haire, A.R., and Machemehl, R. B. Impact of Rising Fuel Prices on U.S. Transit Ridership. In Transportation Research Record: Journal of the Transportation Research Board, No. 1992, Transportation Research Board of the National Academies, Washington, D.C., 2007, pp. 11-19.

Hughes, J. E., Knittel, C. R., and Sperling, D. Evidence of a Shift in the Short-Run Price Elasticity of Gasoline Demand. NBER Working Paper No. W12530, September 2006. http://ssrn.com/abstract=931375. Accessed July 29, 2008.

Kain, J. Impacts of Higher Petroleum Prices on Transportation Patterns and Urban Development. Research in Transportation Economics, Vol. 1, 1983, pp. 1-26.

Litman, T. Transportation Elasticities: How Prices and Other Factors Aff ect Travel Behavior. Victoria Transport Policy Institute, July 2008. http://www.vtpi.org/elasticities.pdf. Accessed July 20, 2008.

Petroleum Navigator. Energy Information Administration. www.tonto.eia.doe.gov/dnav/pet/hist/mg_tt_usm.htm. Accessed Feb. 16, 2009.

Voith, R. Th e Long-Run Elasticity of Demand for Commuter Rail Transportation. Journal of Urban Economics, Vol. 30, 1991, pp. 360-372.

Wang, G. H., and Skinner, D. Th e Impact of Fare and Gasoline Price Changes on Monthly Transit Ridership: Empirical Evidence from Seven U.S. Transit Authorities. Transportation Research Part B, Vol. 18, No. 1, 1984, pp. 29-41.

PANORAMA 200922

Private Profi t vs. Public PurposeThe Collapse of Fannie Mae

“At Fannie Mae, we are in the American Dream business. Our mission is to tear down bar-

riers, lower costs, and increase the opportunities for homeownership and aff ordable rental

housing for all Americans. Because having a safe place to call home strengthens families,

communities, and our nation as a whole.”

Fannie Mae mission statement beginning in 1999, under CEO Franklin D. Raines

“Under CEO Franklin Raines, mortgage fi nancier Fannie Mae is as close as you’ll get to own-

ing an invincible earnings machine.”

Money, December 2001

by NICK FRONTINO

23

Introduction

Th e current economic maelstrom in the U.S. housing sector has left few major players standing. Fannie Mae, the quasi-public corporation that, along with its younger sibling Freddie Mac, has long dominated the secondary market for residential mortgages in the United States, is no exception. By investing in high-risk mortgage products, the com-pany betrayed its public purpose and damaged public trust in its good judgment and reliability. Th e company prioritized shareholder return above the public interest, resulting in its placement into a government “conservatorship” in September of 2008—essentially nationalizing the company and its losses at the expense of American taxpayers. Th e impacts of this decision have distinct implications for the vitality of American real estate and aff ordable housing. Th is paper looks beyond recent statements that place the blame for Fannie’s demise solely at the feet of the company’s quasi-governmental status. Evidence demon-strates that major failures in leadership, not just a defect in organiza-tional structure, are to blame.

Unlike private companies active in the secondary mortgage market, Fannie Mae is beholden to a public purpose. Created by an act of Con-gress in 1938, the company’s government-written charter charges it with fostering stability in the mortgage market, providing liquidity to mortgage lenders, and increasing the availability of credit to low- and moderate-income borrowers. Th ese responsibilities led Fannie to invest heavily in mortgages for aff ordable housing and thus, by extension, Fannie became deeply involved in the real estate markets of America’s cities. Community and neighborhood development eff orts have long relied on Fannie Mae to facilitate access to straightforward mortgages for low- and moderate-income residents. And so Fannie Mae’s fate is bound to have great eff ect on the future of urban America.

The Financial Collapse and Government TakeoverTh e current American housing crisis, spanning at least from mid-2007 through 2009, swiftly crippled numerous mortgage institutions. Finan-cial distress seemed to appear out of nowhere, as the housing market went from boom to bust in barely a year. In reality, however, impru-dent activity in the mortgage market had been forming the foundation for collapse for some time. Fannie Mae was doubtlessly complicit in this activity. As the American secondary mortgage market exploded in the 1990s, Fannie began to purchase even more mortgage-backed securities (MBS), keeping some on its books while guaranteeing and selling others to banks or other investors. Th e company grew steadily, and returns to its shareholders were robust.

Th e U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) launched a campaign dubbed the “National Homeownership Strategy” in 1995 to increase the national rate of homeownership. According to one report, this program put Fannie “under increasing pressure from the Clinton Administration to expand mortgage loans among low and moderate income people” while it still felt pressure from its private investors to continue its growth in profi ts (Holmes, 1999).

After the recession of the early 2000s, demand for MBS grew to new

levels. To meet this demand, many private mortgage lenders increased their off ering of non-traditional fi nancing products that targeted subprime and Alt-A borrowers whose credit was imperfect. Th ese loans serviced higher-risk borrowers and often included attractive marketing strategies such as teaser interest rates, which remained low at fi rst and then suddenly increased after a few years. Mortgage lenders were not overly concerned with any additional risks, as the secondary mortgage market remained robust, with willing MBS buyers such as Bear Stearns and Merrill Lynch. Mortgage companies could thus quickly remove the risk from their balance sheets.

As investor appetite for non-traditional mortgages grew, Fannie Mae felt pressure to join the fray. Th ough the company continued to grow and pay handsome executive salaries, it struggled to maintain market share in the face of increased competition. Fannie eventually gave in to market pressure by relaxing its underwriting standards and increas-ing its appetite for risk. It expanded its lending into the Alt-A and subprime markets, both holding and guaranteeing loans that had been made to borrowers with little or no credit or income. Some argue that Fannie’s entrance into the non-traditional markets was seen as a signal of the government’s approval of subprime and Alt-A products, eff ec-tively legitimizing and “turbocharging” investment in them (Wall Street Journal, 2008).

By 2006, interest rates on loans sold with teaser interest rates began to adjust, often causing monthly premiums to suddenly increase for many borrowers. Default rates on non-traditional mortgages increased, and with it the housing bubble burst. Home prices nationwide began to fall, and companies with extensive subprime and Alt-A holdings were exposed holding vast quantities of depreciating assets. Fannie Mae was no exception, and by September 2008 it was essentially bankrupt. Th e U.S. Treasury decided against injecting equity into Fannie directly, and instead announced it would take the company into government “conservatorship.” Th is eff ectively saddled taxpayers with Fannie’s bad debt and nationalized the fi rm.

Although the current crisis directly precipitated Fannie’s failure, the company’s trajectory over the past 20 years ultimately illustrates the failure of its leadership to establish a balance between its duty to the public interest and to its private shareholders. Fannie Mae’s leaders prioritized short-term profi ts above public purpose, crippling an insti-tution originally created to serve the public interest when the United States was struggling to emerge from the Great Depression.

Fannie Mae’s Public Purpose

“…the Federal National Mortgage Association and the Federal Home

Loan Mortgage Corporation have an affi rmative obligation to facilitate

the fi nancing of aff ordable housing for low- and moderate-income families

in a manner consistent with their overall public purposes, while maintain-

ing a strong fi nancial condition and a reasonable economic return.”

U.S. Code - Title 12, Chapter 46, § 4501(7)

Th e nature of Fannie Mae’s public service has morphed over the course of its history. Originally, Fannie was a government agency whose sole

PANORAMA 200924

responsibility was to the American public. Th e federal government charted the Federal National Mortgage Association (FNMA, or Fannie) to jumpstart the national secondary mortgage market and to expand the availability of credit to aspiring homeowners. Fannie was charged with “facilitating home mortgages as a way to invigorate the residential construction industry as well as to provide adequate housing for its citizens.” (International Directory of Company Histories, 2002) At fi rst, Fannie was restricted to the purchase and sale of mortgages insured by the Federal Housing Administration (FHA). Mortgages insured by the Veterans Administration (VA) were included beginning in 1949. Th is remarkable increase in activity, as veterans returned home after World War II, sparked calls for privatization—which would give private investors direct access to its profi ts and reduce the government’s role in the housing sector. A compromise was reached in 1954, when Congress transformed Fannie Mae into a mixed-ownership corporation in which the U.S. Treasury held preferred stock but mortgage lenders could pur-chase common stock. Fannie’s role was adjusted again in 1968 when President Lyndon Johnson transformed Fannie into a quasi-public corporation whose responsibilities were split between the public inter-est and private investors.

Fannie’s duty to the American public changed again in 1992. President Bill Clinton passed an act requiring that Fannie dedicate a certain percentage of its business to mortgages for aff ordable housing. Th e new legislation endowed HUD with the authority to set aff ordable housing goals for Fannie Mae. In 1995, HUD launched the National Homeownership Strategy, which was designed to increase the U.S. hom-eownership rate. Th e plan was closely tied to Fannie’s obligation to the aff ordable housing sector. HUD Secretary Henry Cisneros’ allegiance to minorities (a former mayor of San Antonio, he is a Mexican-American) was the driving force behind the new homeownership initiative. In the late 1990s, minority homeownership rose to historic levels. Fannie’s focus on aff ordable housing marked a new era for the organization and gave new meaning to its public purpose.

The Lure of Private Profi ts

“I attribute the need for today’s action primarily to the inherent confl ict

and fl awed business model embedded in the GSE structure…”

Jim Lockhart, director of the new Federal Housing Finance Authority, in a Sept. 7, 2008 statement

announcing the government conservatorship of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac

When President Johnson signed the Housing and Urban Development Act of 1968, a 15-member board of directors was created to oversee Fannie Mae, with fi ve members appointed by the President and 10 elected by shareholders. Not inconsequentially, the full privatization of Fannie moved its substantial debt portfolio off of government books, freeing up capital for the federal government—whose fi nancial burden had increased considerably due in part to its costly involvement in the Vietnam War. Under the new arrangement, Fannie was dubbed a Government-Sponsored Enterprise (GSE). Th ough privately run, the company remained accountable to its original Congressional charter and also received both implicit and explicit benefi ts from the federal

government. Th ese benefi ts included exclusion from taxes and access to a direct line of credit from the U.S. Treasury. Along with the fact that Fannie still remained tied to its Congressional charter, these beliefs fostered the impression among investors that the federal government would not allow Fannie to fail. Implicit government support allowed Fannie to borrow funds at rates lower than those available to its private competitors and helped the company build a reputation of low risk and reliability.

In retrospect, President Johnson’s restructuring of Fannie as a quasi-public corporation actually created ambiguity within the private sector and the federal government. While Fannie ostensibly remained accountable to its original public purpose, the GSE structure allowed the company’s true mission to become unclear. Th is ambiguity would eventually contribute to Fannie’s failure and takeover by the U.S. government, as the company’s leaders proved incapable of striking an equitable balance between public purpose and private profi t during the housing boom years of the early 2000s. While many government of-fi cials would point to the fl aws of the GSE structure as the cause of the company’s demise, it does not tell the whole story.

Breakdown in Regulation

“…while regulations did not force fi nancial institutions to make bad loans,

the absence of consumer protection regulation allowed many bad loans to

be made to the detriment of consumers.”

Testimony of former Fannie Mae CEO Franklin D. Raines before the House Committee on Oversight

and Government Reform, December 9, 2008

President Clinton’s 1992 act not only set new aff ordable housing goals, but also established a new regulatory framework for Fannie. Th e legislation formed the independent Offi ce of Federal Housing Enter-prise Oversight (OFHEO), whose responsibilities included ensuring the capital adequacy and fi nancial soundness of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac (see www.ofheo.gov). Fannie would be held to new, more stringent reporting standards and subject to minimum capital reserve levels and limitations on its appetite for risk. OFHEO was required to issue an annual report detailing the fi nancial status of both Fannie and Fred-die. Th e offi ce was dissolved in 2008 and replaced by a new entity, the Federal Housing Finance Authority (FHFA).

OFHEO was largely ineff ective as a regulator for Fannie. During OFHEO’s 15-year life, Fannie consistently paid record dividends to its shareholders; company executives received million-dollar compensation packages. Th e company also burnished its reputation as an excellent in-vestment. OFHEO did little to curb Fannie’s extraordinary growth and to ensure that it was well managed. Th is was, of course, what Fannie’s executives wanted. Former CEO Franklin Raines’ quotation at the start of this section, where he seems to blame a lack of “consumer protec-tions” for Fannie’s problems, is disingenuous. Fannie’s executives, Raines among them, were actually averse to any regulation or oversight that would hinder Fannie’s continued growth of profi ts and expan-

25

sion into the MBS markets. Fannie’s leaders also wanted to ensure that Congress would not strip the company of its GSE status and the associated fi nancial benefi ts. Th us, Fannie annually spent millions of dollars lobbying Congress — including more than $10 million in 2005, at the height of the company’s excesses. Th is lobbying ran counter to Fannie’s identity as a GSE and represented a double standard, as Fannie was more than willing to continue receiving advantages as a result of its association with the federal government but did not want to submit to extensive oversight. Th is was a failure of Fannie Mae’s executive leader-ship, who prioritized private profi ts over public purpose.

OFHEO was not alone in its authority to regulate Fannie Mae. Prior to 2008, the HUD Secretary was the “mission regulator” for Fannie and Freddie, “with oversight authority to ensure that both GSEs complied with the public purposes set forth in their charters” (www.hud.gov/offi ces/hsg/gse/gse.cfm). However, as Fannie increased its activity in non-traditional markets and took on more risk, HUD turned a blind eye. Th e subprime and Alt-A markets targeted primarily low- and moderate-income fi rst-time homeowners—the exact demographic to whom HUD wished to extend the benefi ts of homeownership. HUD leadership chose to ignore the risks of Fannie’s increased appetite for these mortgages so long as more Americans became homeowners. Th is was another grave defect in leadership, as HUD allowed Fannie to skirt its charter-specifi ed duty to provide long-term stability to the second-ary market. HUD also considered Fannie’s extension into non-tradi-tional markets to be in alignment with the fi rm’s duty to expand credit access for low- and moderate-income borrowers. Th is decision now appears extraordinarily shortsighted, as the fi nancial collapse brought about by these toxic products has restricted credit availability to nearly unprecedented levels.

Poor Executive Decisions

Fannie Mae under Franklin D. Raines

“I noted that, of the top twenty offi cials of [Fannie Mae], none made less

than $1 million a year. And during the course of a fi ve-year period, there

were bonuses, not salaries ... bonuses paid out of $245 million. Th is,

going to an entity that was supposed to be focused on helping fi rst-time,

low-income homebuyers getting access to housing credit.”

Former U.S. Congressman Richard Baker, in a July 14, 2008, interview on NPR’s All Things Considered

Th ough regulation of Fannie was often lax in the 1990s and early 2000s, OFHEO and the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) brought charges against the company in 2004 that alleged company accountants, led by CFO J. Timothy Howard, manipulated company fi nancials to trigger maximum payouts to executives between 1998 and 2004. In 2006, a settlement was announced that forced Fannie to pay $400 million in penalties. When the scandal became public in 2004, Fannie’s board of directors forced out Howard and then-CEO Franklin D. Raines. Th e scandal exposed how, under Raines, Fannie had become little more than a money-making machine where obsession with growth and profi t had prevailed over its charter commitments to both the public and shareholder interests.

As CEO, Raines had shifted Fannie’s business model to increase profi ts while taking on greater risk. While remaining active in creating and issuing mortgages and mortgage-backed securities, Fannie increasingly held more mortgages and MBS in its own retained mortgage portfo-lio. Eventually, the company earned the majority of its income from these assets. Th is practice exposed Fannie to both the upside and the downside of these investments. When mortgages and MBS performed well, as was the case during most of the 1990s and 2000s, the retained portfolio had the capacity to generate handsome profi ts. But when the assets began to perform poorly in 2006-07, the company suddenly faced substantial interest rate risk and the potential of extraordinary fi nancial duress. Fannie was left over-extended, necessitating the U.S. takeover in the fall of 2008.

Fannie Mae under Daniel H. Mudd

“One of the things we don’t feel good about right now as we look into this

marketplace is more homebuyers being put into programs that have more

risk. Th ose products are for more sophisticated buyers. Does it make sense

for borrowers to take on risk they may not be aware of? Are we setting

them up for failure?”

Testimony of former Fannie Mae CEO Daniel H. Mudd before the House Committee on

Financial Services, April 17, 2007

Raines’ successor, Daniel Mudd, oversaw a decline in Fannie Mae’s retained mortgage portfolio but an increase in the company’s invest-ment in non-traditional mortgages. In a December 2008 Congressional hearing on the collapse of Fannie and Freddie, Representative Henry Waxman publicly disclosed a previously confi dential June 2005 presen-tation obtained from Mudd’s fi les. Th e presentation used very plain language to convey that after Raines’ ouster, executives considered Fan-nie to be at “strategic crossroads.” Fannie could, Mudd said, “stay the course,” with the company taking pains to “maintain [its] strong credit discipline” and “protect the quality of [its] book.” Th e second option was for Fannie to “meet the market where the market is” and “accept higher risk and higher volatility of earnings.” Th e presentation recom-mended that Fannie Mae pursue a middle road, staying the course while dedicating resources and funding to “underground” eff orts (Waxman, 2008). In other words, Fannie would continue to expand into the subprime and Alt-A markets even though it acknowledged an increased risk. Mudd justifi ed this foray by claiming that otherwise, the company risked losing market share to its competitors and compromising its profi ts. However, when the market for subprime and Alt-A mortgages collapsed, Fannie’s profi ts nosedived and the American taxpayers were left holding the bill. Mudd’s submission to the pressures of the market suggests that he did not act in line with either of Fannie’s purposes in mind. His shortsightedness had negative consequences on both the public and Fannie’s private investors.

The Ultimate Accountability of Leadership

Although Fannie Mae’s two-pronged mission as a GSE rendered it dif-fi cult for the company’s leaders to fully adhere to its public purpose, this report demonstrated that many decisions unrelated to its orga-

PANORAMA 200926

nizational structure and mission contributed to its fi nancial collapse and government takeover. Even Raines is reluctant to pin the blame entirely on the GSE structure, stating, “Th e GSE model is a far from perfect way to achieve the goal of using private capital to achieve the public purpose of homeownership and aff ordable rental housing. However, if the public policy goal remains the same, it will be hard to fi nd a model that has more benefi ts and fewer demerits than the model that worked reasonably well for almost seven decades at Fannie Mae” (Raines, 2008). Fundamentally, Raines is correct—and thus his state-ment is somewhat self-incriminating. Th e failure of Fannie Mae cannot be reasonably blamed on the GSE model. Even a government conser-vatorship that “place[s] common shareholders last in terms of claims on the assets of the enterprise” will not be a panacea to poor choices of leaders (Paulson, 2008). Fannie’s demise was due to a unique series of poor decisions on the part of the leaders of Congress, HUD, OFHEO, and Fannie Mae itself. Th ese leaders failed to uphold the decades-old mission of Fannie Mae when confronted with the potential for signifi -cant personal fi nancial gain. Th eir inability to strike a prudent balance between serving the public interest and generating profi t compromised the integrity of the U.S. housing market. As a result, American hom-eowners are now struggling to gain access to mortgage credit, and U.S. taxpayers are saddled with unprecedented fi nancial burden that will undermine the eff ectiveness of their government for years to come.

References“Fannie Mae.” 2002 International Directory of Company Histories, Vol. 45. Farmington Hills:

St. James Press.

Holmes, S.A. “Fannie Mae Eases Credit To Aid Mortgage Lending.” Th e New York Times, Sept. 30, 1999.

Paulson, H. “Statement by Secretary Henry M. Paulson, Jr. on Treasury and Federal Housing Finance Agency Action to Protect Financial Markets and Taxpayers.” Sept. 7, 2008. Available at: http://www.ustreas.gov/press/releases/hp1129.htm.

Raines, F.D. Testimony before the U.S. House Committee on Oversight Reform, Dec. 9, 2008.

Waxman, H. “Accompanying Documents to Chairman Waxman’s Opening Statement.” Hearing of the U.S. House Committee on Oversight and Government Reform. Dec. 9, 2009. Available at: http://oversight.house.gov/story.asp?ID=2252.

“Whitewashing Fannie Mae: Congress Begins Its Self-Absolution Campaign.” Unsigned editorial. Th e Wall Street Journal, Dec. 11, 2008.

27

by CHRISSY CAGGIANO, EMILY DOWDALL, CHRISTY KWAN and AMANDA WAGNER

Farming in Philadelphia? A Proposal for a Sustainable Urban Farm Incubator

Editor’s Note:

Last fall, Professor Domenic Vitiello led his Community and Economic Development Practicum class, composed of second-year MCP students, through a proposal to develop an urban farm incubator in Philadelphia. During the semester, students worked with a collaborative client group that included W.B. Saul High School for Agricultural Sciences, the Schuylkill Center for Environmental Education, Weaver’s Way Community Programs, and Fairmount Park. Th e fol-lowing article is the proposal developed by class members Chrissy Caggiano, Emily Dowdall, Leah Fiasca, William Knapp, Christy Kwan, Amina Omar and Amanda Wagner.

Urban Agriculture in Philadelphia

Philadelphia is an emerging leader in the grassroots eff ort to promote local food and urban agriculture. Citizens practice urban agriculture in innovative spaces such as backyards, rooftops, pocket parks and vacant lots. Th e intensive plant cultivation and animal husbandry in and around cities allows people to grow food for themselves and

Sustainable farm site. Mantawna Farm, pictured above, is a 76-acre piece of parkland owned by Fair-

mount Park and is directly adjacent to the Schuylkill Center for Environmental Education. The proposed

Sustainable Farm Incubator will allow visitors to see, touch, smell, and taste the value of sustainable

agriculture.

PANORAMA 200928

their communities, providing opportunities for health benefi ts and entrepreneurship.

Evidence of local consumer demand for locally-grown food includes the proliferation of more than 30 farmers markets and farm stands in the city, about 40 restaurants and cafes that use locally-sourced ingredi-ents, and at least 25 specialty stores that sell or process local goods (Fair Food Local Food Guide, 2008). A growing number of institu-tions are requesting and using local food, while Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) programs and “buying clubs” have gained popularity. In these programs, participants pay at the beginning of the season to become “members” and then receive weekly deliveries of fresh produce throughout the growing season. Adding to the evidence of demand, many existing neighborhood community gardens in the city are at membership capacity, and several have waiting lists for new members. People from Philadelphia and around the country continually contact these urban farms seeking employment, training or volunteer opportu-nities.

Additionally, Philadelphia’s city government has taken a renewed inter-est in supporting and scaling up local food and urban agriculture. Th e Philadelphia Food Charter, announced in October 2008, states that “… Food can be a catalyst for youth engagement and resident involve-ment in community gardens and farms, a means to advance public and community health through education and access to nutritious food, and a foundation for creating vital and sustainable neighborhoods” (Philadelphia Food Charter, 2008). Th e Zoning Code Commission has also expressed interest in working with the city government, neighbor-hoods and the Mayor’s Offi ce of Sustainability to establish an “urban agricultural” zoning designation and incorporate urban agriculture into Philadelphia’s ongoing comprehensive zoning reform. Th is would provide formal governmental support for future development of urban agriculture in Philadelphia.

Because of the rising demand for local food and interest in local grow-ing, there are opportunities for increased support for urban growers and food businesses. However, there is no supporting infrastructure that combines access to land, technical assistance for growing sustain-ably, business development expertise, and fi nancing assistance to emerging urban farmers. Th is suggests that an “urban farm incubator” would meet a critical need in the Philadelphia region, strengthening the local economy and local food available through the development of new, viable farm enterprises.

Business Incubation Model

Th e model hinges on business incubation — a support framework that accelerates the successful development of start-up companies by providing entrepreneurs with targeted resources and services. Busi-ness incubators nurture the development of young companies when they need the most assistance, usually in the form of physical space, business expertise, and networking. An incubator’s primary goal is to develop companies that will leave the program fi nancially viable and in-dependent. Th ese incubator “graduates” go out into the community and can create jobs, revitalize neighborhoods, commercialize new technolo-gies, and strengthen local and national economies. One study has found that every $1 of public money supporting an incubator generates $30 in

local tax revenue alone (National Business Incubation Association).

Food-related incubators are usually kitchen or processing incubators, though there are some successful farm production incubators like the Intervale Center in Vermont. Regardless of the location along the food continuum from production to processing, a network of food business incubators have identifi ed the following needs: information on business planning, market research and capital access; training and workforce development on best practices in food safety and quality assurance; reduction of start-up expenses related to equipment, product develop-ment or market entry; assistance in the development of diff erentiated products to compete in a complex market; and access to safe and legal production facilities inspected by the appropriate agencies. An incuba-tor addressing those needs will mitigate formidable barriers to food-based entrepreneurship.

The Sustainable Farm Incubator

Vision

Th e Sustainable Farm Incubator is a proposed partnership between the Schuylkill Center for Environmental Education and Fairmount Park that would become an innovative, national model for creating viable farm businesses in cities. Philadelphians and others in the region who are interested in growing food would receive the support, training, and resources to use farming as a sustainable way of life. School groups, community members, and other environmentally-conscious visitors of

Organization chart. The Sustainable Farm Incubator, a partnership between Fair-

mount Park and the Schuylkill Center for Environment Education, involves a network

of growing sites, personnel, students, and distribution sites.

29

Fairmount Park and the Schuylkill Center would be able to meet these farmers fi rst-hand and learn by seeing, touching, smelling, and tasting the value of sustainable agriculture.

To achieve this goal, 10 acres of land would be transformed over the next fi ve years into small plots tended by emerging farmers. In the fi rst year, the partner organizations hire staff and settle land leasing. Th e newly hired staff would then develop a curriculum, cultivate the land for the fi rst growing season, and start recruiting the initial class of farmers. Th e fi rst-year class of emerging farmers would work in pairs on half-acre plots, learning from staff and each other about growing food and farming-business basics such as how to set prices, create budgets, and fi nd customers. Th e farmers’ formal education would be comple-mented with trips to other Philadelphia urban agriculture hot spots to learn about the variety of urban farming techniques. Over time, the Sustainable Farm Incubator’s resource network would grow as more classes graduate from the program. Some graduates would stay to farm larger plots and mentor new classes, while others leave to translate their newly acquired knowledge and begin their own farms in the re-gion. Th ese new farmers could serve as a valuable alumni network, pro-viding future fi eld trip destinations and becoming employers for other farmers. Th ey would also become suppliers for the Schuylkill Center Farm Stand, Upper Roxborough CSA, and local restaurants interested in locally-grown, chemical-free foods.

Partner Organization and Mission Alignment

Th e program should become an innovative partnership that will weave environmental opportunities with community engagement and eco-nomic prosperity. Th e two organizations involved will bring mutually benefi cial assets to the program. For example, the Schuylkill Center’s connections to the urban agricultural movement and the Sustain-able Business Network equip Fairmount Park to pursue this venture. Conversely, Fairmount Park can provide fertile farm lands that the Schuylkill Center and the incubator would depend upon.

Together, the partnership would:

Demonstrate the viability of urban agriculture as an occupation1. Become a means of preserving and improving the environment2. Serve as a way to build community through economic and 3. social opportunities

Growing Sites

Manatawna Farm, operated by Fairmount Park, rests along the Schuykill River in Northwest Philadelphia’s Upper Roxborough neighborhood and straddles both Philadelphia and Montgomery counties. Th e farm lies directly north of Th e Schuylkill Center for Environmental Education. Soil analysis reveals that the area is prime for farmland, mainly consisting of Chester silt loam, Urbana silt loam and Manor loam (soil with organic material).

Th e Sustainable Farm Incubator would farm primarily in two locations: the Network Production Plot and the Incubator Plots. Th e Network Pro-duction Plot is one acre at Brolo Farm, located on Schuylkill Center prop-erty. Th is plot serves as an intensive production site where all student

farmers would work on the same plot to grow vegetables for the Upper Roxborough CSA Network. Th is location is also ideal for the Schuylkill Center Farm Stand, as it is located directly across the street from the 21st Ward Junior League Complex, home to seven playing fi elds that serve more than 1,000 children who participate in baseball and softball leagues. Th e Schuylkill Center Farm Stand would be well-positioned to serve fresh and healthy foods to little leaguers and their families during the height of the summer growing season.

Th e 10 acres at Manatawna Farm would serve as the main location for the incubator plots. Four acres would be devoted to incubation for fi rst-year students, who would work in pairs on half-acre plots — up to a total of 16 students growing foods specifi c to their interests. Th e remaining 6 acres would be used for enterprise, mentoring, and farming plots. Th ese plots would vary between a half-acre to 1 acre, depending on the busi-ness proposals generated from the students; they can accommodate a maximum of 12 farms (if all farmers only want half an acre). Th e land adjacent to the existing Schuylkill Center Community Gardens is a logi-cal next step for converting land into farming. Th e Community Gardens are already equipped with irrigation lines. Also, as the Sustainable Farm Incubator increases in demand, the program may consider expanding into vacant plots within the Community Gardens.

Personnel

A total of three staff members are required to run the educational com-ponent of the Sustainable Farm Incubator. Th e Production Manager would oversee the growing at the “network production plot.” Th e busi-ness Development and Outreach Coordinator would market the food grown from the network production plot to CSAs and local food outlets as well as work with the students of the incubator plots to develop busi-ness plans. Lastly, the Agricultural Educator would work on the incubator plots to teach student-farmers the basics of chemical-free food produc-tion. Th ese three staff members work together to create a comprehensive education for the student-farmers.

Farm location. Proposed site plan for the Sustainable Farm Incubator in Upper

Roxborough. Students will use 10 acres of land south of the Schuylkill Center for

Environmental Education’s community gardens as the Incubator’s main production

site, with an additional 1-acre plot and farm stand at the corner of Port Royal Avenue

and Hagy’s Mill Road.

PANORAMA 200930

Program Curriculum

Th e Incubator’s curriculum, adapted from successful programs across the country, integrates lessons in three basic categories: 1) chemical-free food production practices; 2) fi nancial and logistics education; and 3) marketing skills. Chemical-free production lessons include crop produc-tion and growing methods, botany and crop culture, soils management, natural pest and disease management, and agricultural record-keeping, which incorporates projecting crop yields, seed selection, and crop pro-duction planning.

Financial and logistics curriculum elements include business basics, planning, resources on obtaining loans and grants, and the realities of urban agricultural production, such as zoning, permitting, and dealing with neighborhood tensions.

Finally, the marketing curriculum focuses on skills such as defi ning the customer base, the importance of creativity in reaching markets, adver-tising skills, and knowledge of product outlets. Th e marketing curricu-lum would also provide a network of connections with local, regional, and national sustainable farm business practitioners.

When winter arrives in Philadelphia, non-growing season activities in-clude a number of indoor educational activities: travel to the Pennsylva-nia Association for Sustainable Agriculture (PASA) annual conference, guest lectures, and workshops with established Philadelphia urban growers. Participants can also enjoy structured time in the greenhouse, testing methods and procedures and growing cold-tolerant crops, as well as classroom time learning about management and seed planning and buying.

Distribution Sites

Th e main distribution and sales site will be the Schuylkill Center for Environmental Education Farm Stand across from the sports league complex. Students can also individually sell their food to local res-taurants, farmer’s markets, the Upper Roxborough CSA Network, or donate it to local food banks.

Next Steps for Implementation

Considerations

Th e Sustainable Farm Incubator still has several hurdles to clear before opening as a locally-grown food operation. Th e fi rst issue is ownership of the incubator and tenure of the land. Th e partners need to name the Incubator in a way that is appropriate for a partnership farm. Will this be, as the organizational chart suggests, a program within the Schuylkill Center on Fairmount Park property? What will be the particular roles of each organization? Who will the three staff people report to and be overseen by?

Will there be an offi cial lease agreement partitioning 10 acres of Ma-natawna Farm (over the course of a given number of years) to be used as the Sustainable Farm Incubator? It is strongly suggested that a lease and/or other formal agreement between parties be created.

In terms of funding, what are each of the organizations able to provide as in-kind support in terms of classroom space, advertising resources, hard property (like equipment, vehicles) etc. To reach implementation, a much sturdier funding picture will need to be painted. For example, student farmers may struggle with housing in terms of cost and accessi-bility to Manatawna Farm. A number of possible solutions were fl oated during the planning process — including the construction of dorm facilities, which would require substantial capital investment.

Future Research

Both partners have signaled their intention to embark on next steps, beginning with internal organizational discussions, and the students have agreed to continue participating when possible. Th e organizations will also seek to enlist the support of City Council members and the Mayor’s Offi ce of Sustainability as well as potential fi nancial support-ers such as the William Penn Foundation. In order to do this, students must continue to keep in touch with the urban agriculture movement both in Philadelphia and cities across the country. Urban and local agri-culture is changing vastly, thus making networking a valuable resource to learn innovative and new models of food production.

A clear understanding between the relationship of non-profi t manage-ment and food enterprises is essential in moving this project forward. Also, for urban agriculture to fully thrive in a city setting, it must be recognized within Philadelphia’s zoning code. As other cities move to become more green and sustainable, Philadelphia must adopt a legal structure to cultivate, nurture, and preserve emerging sources of eco-nomic, workforce, and sustainable development.

The Process: Lessons Learned

Th e limits to strategic planning were refl ected in concerns voiced by the clients, including the long-term fate of the project given that the Penn students would not be around to assist with implementation or make further revisions to the plan. Th is reality actually echoes the circum-stances of a consultant model for strategic planning and the fact that strategic planners are not project managers; this can be both a strength and weakness of the format. A second weakness related to short-term commitment is that the students’ planning process only yielded sugges-tions — not a defi nitive plan — for funding. A strategic plan is an excel-lent tool for starting conversation and understanding how partners’ strengths and resources complement one another — but it leaves a lot of hard work to be done.

In his writing on strategic planning, Henry Mintzberg holds that “strat-egies take on value only as committed people infuse them with energy.” Given the experience in Upper Roxborough, this rings absolutely true. Th is project benefi ts signifi cantly from partners who are ready to bring the plan to life, infusing a level of enthusiasm and commitment that will make it possible to transform recommendations into action.

Strategic thinking is an essential part of all planning sub-disciplines, from transportation to economic development to design. Th is project demonstrates how stakeholders can be engaged in choosing a course of action and anticipating positive and negative outcomes. Th e process of planning a Sustainable Farm Incubator held lessons about the Com-

31

munity and Economic Development (CED) discipline in particular. Prac-titioners intuitively seek connections with one another and see how another organization’s new program could tie into their own work. Th e fi eld is concerned with the success of people and projects in a profound way that can become lost in day-to-day activities and pressures. Strate-gic planning provides an opportunity for a consultant, partner, or staff member to push an organization back on track. Th e project also high-lighted the diffi culty for many CED endeavors to make decisions about programming, funding, and channeling energies given the importance of mission and the lack of any one best way to achieve it. For CED practitioners, it is crucial to perceive multiple bottom lines — fi nancial, social, and personal — and to identify and prioritize actions.

ReferencesFairmount Park. Available online at: www.fairmountpark.org.

Local Food Guide 2008, Fair Food Project of White Dog Community Enterprises. Available online at: www.localfoodphilly.org/consumer_guide.php.

National Business Incubation Association. Available online at: www.nbia.org.

Philadelphia Food Charter, Th e Mayor’s Offi ce of Sustainability. Available online at: www.leadershipforhealthycommunities.org/images/stories/philadelphia_food charter1.pdf.

Schuylkill Center for Environmental Education. Available online at: www.schuylkillcenter.org.

Urban Agriculture and Community Food Security in Th e United States: Farming from the City Center to the Urban Fringe. Primer prepared for by the Community Food Security Coalition’s Urban Agriculture Committee, October 2003.

Once Upon A Groove: The Hill District Renaissance Th is project focuses on the history of the Hill District in Pittsburgh. Once a thriving jazz mecca in 1930s and 40s, “Th e Hill’s” Wylie Avenue attracted all the greats for tour stops: Duke Ellington, Lena Horne, and George Benson, to name a few. With the era of urban renewal, Mellon Arena was built in the Hill District, severing Wylie Avenue and cutting off the neighborhood from the downtown and catalyzing its downward decline. What

about using this rich history to revive a dying neighborhood? Elements of jazz music can begin to inform urban design moves on the site from larger strategies all the way down

to the streetscape revitalization of Wylie Avenue. Moreover, reviving neighborhoods and communities by paying respect to their past, and not superimposing a placeless notion,

is what can really help resuscitate these declining, postindustrial neighborhoods.

The Olympic City: Pittsburgh 2020Th is proposal takes a massive, vacant industrial complex in Pittsburgh and introduces a program, event, and mission that rivals those of the steel manufacturing industry: the 2020 Summer Olympic Games. Whereas the steel industry emerged as an innately local phenomenon, the Olympics will represent the global dynamic of today’s 21st century cities. Th e master plan illustrates four clusters comprised of existing and proposed sports facilities. Th e design proposes a repurposing of freight rail lines to passengers. Th e axes of adjacent, nearly parallel avenues converge on the unique view of downtown that denotes the Hazelwood neighborhood’s sense of place within the city. Th e develop-ment of this mixed-use, compact and amenity-rich environment that is well connected to surrounding neighborhoods ensures the successful reuse of its spaces for either private market residential and commercial tenants, or for use as an ancillary university campus. Preservation of the recreation fi elds, aquatics center and general use outdoor arena will also ensure the provision of valuable neighborhood amenities of the residents of Hazel-wood neighborhood and the City of Pittsburgh.

Matthew Rufo

Radhika Mohan

LARP 601, Urban Transformation and the Making of Communities, is an interdisciplinary studio that addresses challenges facing post-industrial cities by understanding and intervening in the built environ-ment at multiple scales. Urban design students who participated in this fall’s studio, set in Pittsburgh, chose from among four sites covered with parking lots or brownfi elds.

TRANSFORMING PITTSBURGH

OHIO CLUSTER Olympic Stadium: Athletics, FootballHeinz Field: FootballStation Square: Olympic Village, Rowing, Canoe/KayakMarina: Sailing

OAKLAND CLUSTERPetersen Events Center: Boxing, BasketballCarnegie Mellon University: Field HockeySchenley Park: Archery

ALLEGHENY CLUSTERLawrence Convention Center: Handball, Rhythmic Gymnastics, Judo, Weightlifting, Volleyball, Wrestling, Taekwondo, Badminton, Fencing, Table TennisMellon Arena: Gymnastics, TrampolineNew Pittsburgh Arena: BasketballVelodrome: Indoor Cycling

MONONGAHELA CLUSTEROlympic VillageBeach Volleyball CenterAquatics Center: Swimming, Diving, Synchronized Swimming, Water Polo

Pittsburgh International Airport18 miles from city center

ADDITIONAL VENUESEquestrian, Shooting

OV

OV

1,6008000 Feet

CONCEPT

Existing Light RailPlanned Light RailPrimary ArterySecondary ArteryCity Street

P I T T S B U R G H 2 0 2 0

Park

CULTURAL WALKING LOOP30 minutes

EDUCATIONALWALKING LOOP

30 minutes

DOWNTOWN WALKING LOOP20 minutes

HILL DISTRICTWALKING LOOP

60 minutes

03_SITE CONNECTIVITY THROUGH JAZZ METHODOLOGYBLUE NOTESa note sung or played at a slightly lower pitch than that of the major scale forexpressive purposescirculation loops within the city

POLYRHYTHMSthe simultaneous sounding of 2 or more independent rhythms; 3 evenly spaced notes against 2, with the 3-beat pattern being faster than the 2-beat pattern, both taking the same amount of timecultural activity within the city and site, tree planting patterns

SYNCOPATIONa stress on a normally unstressed beat or a rest where one would normally be stressedtypically unoccupied spaces become occupied: medians, over highways, vacant neighborhoods, industrial waterfronts

SWUNG NOTESa rhythmic device in which the duration of the initial note in a pair is emphasized and that of the second is diminishedtree planting patterns, pedestrian movement along Wylie avenue

N 1” = 500’

An overarching team vision of Pittsburgh as a healthy, waterfront city with a diverse set of uses informed the organization of this industrial site around storm water management corridors that link into water-sheds. Th e site concept introduces regional sports facilities as a catalyst on the site of a former steel mill to revitalize the struggling surrounding neighborhood, and the site design integrates these facilities into a neighborhood fabric. Based on the development of a phasing plan for the site, the cluster of athletic fi elds and indoor facilities were identifi ed as the catalyst development that would transform the neighborhood. Detailed design explored how the former railroad bridge could provide enclosure around the fi elds, serve as a path through the site, and frame an entrance to the water.

Sally Foster

S S S S

B CBA C D D

performing arts centerhigh school

mixed-use infillcommunity performing arts park

streetscape Wylie

redevelop Crawford Grillinfill commercial activity

streetscape Elmorestreetscape Wylie

streetscape Wyliestreetscape Chauncey

infill commercial activityactivate parking lots:

farmer’s marketsflea markets

church events

redevelop Jones’ Grillinfill residential

streetscape Wyliestreetscape Francis

clean up overgrown, vacant lotsreplant with poplars

temporary parkgateway signage to Wylie

02_RHYTHMIC STRATEGIES ALONG WYLIE AVENUE

MUSIC CLUB CHURCH SCHOOL RECENT INFILL AREAS OF OPPORTUNITYEXISTING BUILDINGS

1” = 100’

HERRON AVEREDEVELOPMENT

creating a neighborhood park as agateway to the community and as a

catalyst for redevelopment

CRAWFORD ST REDEVELOPMENT

a new mixed-use, arts community that serves as theperforming arts gateway to the City and a part of a nationally

re-established network of music performance/production nodes

N N N

CULTURAL DISTRICTSIXTH AVENUE [WYLIE AVENUE EXTENSION]

BUSINESS DISTRICTSIXTH AVENUE [WYLIE AVENUE EXTENSION]

HILL DISTRICTWYLIE AVENUE + SIGNIFICANT CROSS STREETS

1” = 100’1” = 100’

COMMUNITY ASSETS

STRATEGIES IN AREAS OF OPPORTUNITY

ELMORE ST REDEVELOPMENT

commercial revitalization centered aroundthe historic Crawford Grill jazz club

CHAUNCEY ST REDEVELOPMENT

community-based commercial revitalizationfueled by the local church

FRANCIS ST REDEVELOPMENT

neighborhood revitalization throughhousing infill and redeveloping

Jones’ Grill into a community center

PLANTINGS LIGHTING/SIGNAGEBUILDING TYPOLOGYPROGRAM SEATING

S

LAND FORM

EXISTING PLAN OF WYLIE AVENUE1” = 100’

SECTIONAL RHYTHMS OF WYLIE AVENUE1” = 100’

PANORAMA 200934

by linda meckel

Subway GeometryA Comparison of New York, Tokyo & Mexico City Subways

The rapid movement of workers, shoppers, and the general public from their origins to destinations is linked to the efficiency of the city, its ability to draw people to it, and its environmental sustainability and vitality. Subway systems can move large amounts of people quickly, but the design and geometry of a system inevitably influences the rela-tionship between a city and its citizens. Location and spatial arrangement of integrated lines versus independent lines influence travel paths and dictate if a path will be taken at all. Is one form better or more efficient?

An analysis of three metro systems in cities of worldwide importance follows. Differ-ences in metro network size, form, and topography will be evaluated to analyze each city’s relationship to its subway system design.

The three systems, in Mexico City, New York City, and Tokyo, were chosen due to the similar population, area, and density of the cities they serve. In addition, all three cit-ies have a Gross Domestic Product (GDP) ranking among the top 10 in the world and metropolitan agglomerations ranking within the top five. Each of these cities could be considered the most prominent economic center on their respective continents.

Mexico CityMexico City was rebuilt, after the siege of 1521, in adherence to Spanish urban form standards. Accordingly, the city is similar in form to European cities established dur-ing that time. Mexico City is currently one of the largest urban agglomerations in the world. Greater Mexico City had a population of 19.2 million people in 2006. Of that, 8.7 million people lived within the city itself. The city alone covers 1,479 square km (571 square mi). Within the Federal District boundaries, the city consists of 16 boroughs. Of these, the core of the city is considered to be the boroughs of Cuauhtémoc, Benito Juarez, Miguel Hidalgo and Venustiano Carranza.

Mexico City Metro System

The Metro system in Mexico City serves the city as well as adjacent municipalities. The system began operation of its first line in September of 1969 with 16 stations; adding lines 2 and 3 a year later, and extending line 1. Further expansion occurred in seven stages resulting in four diametrical lines, five radial lines, and three tangential lines in relation to the location of the center city.

The Metro stations are attractive; some stations even display pre-Columbian artifacts that were discovered when building the system. Each station features a unique logo relating to both the line and the area around the station, accommodating for the high rates of illiteracy among the local population.

Figure 1. Diagram of Mexico City metro.

35

The subway fare is $2.00 USD. �The annual ridership in 2006 was 1.5 billion. �According to the U.S. Census, New York residents have one of the �longest commutes in the country, averaging 38.4 minutes per day. Operations extend 24 hours a day, making the system one of the �few in the world that “never sleeps.”The system has connections to New Jersey Transit, Long Island �Railroad, and Metro North.

Planned Extensions and Updates of the system

Following a tunneling contract awarded in March 2007, the long await-ed Second Avenue Subway is currently under construction. This line has been referred to as “The Line that Time Forgot,” as it was originally proposed in 1929 as part of the Independent Subway System. The pro-posed line will run 8.5 miles from 125th Street in Harlem to Hanover Square in the Financial District, stopping at a total of 16 stations. The new T line will run the length of the new line and the existing Q service will extend from its terminus at 57th Street to connect with the 2nd Avenue line near 63rd Street.

Statistics

Based on 400-meter walking circles, the system covers approxi- �mately 19 percent of the municipality. 40 percent of daily trips are concentrated in the downtown zone. �The system consists of 355 trains with rubber tires, running both �on underground and elevated tracks. The Mexico Metro system has the lowest fares in the world, with �each trip costing 2.00 pesos ($0.19 USD). The system moves approximately 4.5 million people each day, �and is considered one of the busiest systems in the world. The system operates from 5 a.m. to midnight during weekdays, �6 a.m. to midnight on Saturdays, and 7 a.m. to midnight on Sun-days. Trains usually run six or nine cars per train. Each six-car train can carry 1,020 passengers, and nine-car trains can carry 1,530 passengers.The metro system will connect to the greater region via a subur- �ban rail system that is currently under construction.

New YorkNew York’s expansive street grid is the product of the “Commissioners’ Plan of 1811,” which made the sale of land orderly but failed to conform to the topography of Manhattan island. According to the plan, each north-south avenue would be 30 meters wide, spaced approximately 280 meters apart across the island, while each east-west running street would be approximately 18 meters wide, spaced approximately 60 meters apart. This template has guided not only population density, but how people perceive the island and get around. This is important in determining how and where subway alignments were ultimately placed.

In 2007, the city had a population of 8.2 million people within its 1,214 square km. More than half of the households in New York City do not own a car and therefore rely heavily on public transit. The greater metropolitan area contains approximately 22.4 million people and is considered one of the largest urban agglomerations in the world.

New York’s Subway System

The New York Subway system was built by independent operators in the early 1900s and then merged into the present day MTA in 1968. The lines today are divided by the originating companies into Division A (numbered lines) and Division B (lettered lines).

The integrated system used by both divisions is unique; 26 routes and three shuttles operate on 12 lines. “Routes” are distinguished by a letter or a number, while “lines” have names and will carry several routes. Due to the branching nature of the system, routes will have their own right of way for a while and then join other routes along a line before branch-ing out again. Of the 26 routes, three are short shuttle connectors, 11 are diametrical lines, 11 are radial lines, and one is a tangential line.

Statistics

Based on 400-meter walking circles, the network covers 61 �percent of the city. The station spacing in the Division A network is 0.25-0.5 miles, while the station spacing for the Division B network is closer to 0.5 miles. Figure 2. Diagram of New York City metro.

PANORAMA 200936

The 7th Avenue Subway Extension and Hudson Yards Rezoning and Development Program began construction in December 2007. There are plans to extend the IRT Flushing Line from its current terminus at Times Square to 11th Avenue and 34th Street, where a new station will be added. The Hudson Yards Redevelopment Project governs the 7th Avenue extension and is intended to bolster development on the west side of Midtown Manhattan.

Another project, currently under construction, is the Fulton Street Transit Center where renovations and improvements will improve the efficiency of the station that serves 12 MTA subway routes in addition to the PATH system. The transit center is expected to be highly visible, and is part of the redesign of the World Trade Center Station.

TokyoThis significant port city saw its beginnings as a small fishing village, eventually becoming the center of the nation’s military government in the 1600s. Although never the capital, Tokyo became Japan’s cultural and political center. The city was the target of devastating fire bombings during World War II and as a result was completely rebuilt. Following reconstruction, Tokyo experienced a population explosion. Today, 12.8 million people live in the 2,187 square km that make up Tokyo. The City of Tokyo has the largest GDP of any country in the world.

Tokyo is divided into “23 special wards.” Each ward has a unique char-acter and is its own municipality. The central wards are considered to be Chiyoda, Chuo, and Minato.

System

Two organizations provide metro service in Tokyo: Tokyo Metro and Toei. The Teito Rapid Transit Authority (TRTA) coordinates service between the two, as the lines share many station connec-tions.

The Ginza line was the first subway line in Tokyo, opening in 1927. The Tokyo Reconstruction plan called for an expansion of the subway, and construction of other lines began in 1951.

All the lines in the system are diametrical with the exception of the TOEI Oedo Line that loops around the central city area.

Statistics

Based on 400-meter walk- �ing circles, the system covers almost 20 percent of the urbanized area.

Combined, Tokyo Metro and Toei serve 7.8 million passengers a �day. The reliability of service is extremely high. The lines operate with �120-second headways, even though they are capable of 90-sec-ond headways, for a frequency of 30 trains per hour. Operating at a longer policy headway than what the system can achieve ensures the reliability and high level of service. The greater Tokyo metropolitan area is served by many addi- �tional rail lines, primarily those of Japan Railways (JR). All the subway lines connect to the larger regional rail network. The Yamanote Regional Rail Line in Tokyo is a circle line and �represents the basic element of its regional rail network (Vuchic 2005). This line carries over 10 million passengers a day on 10-car trains, and up to 60,000 persons/hour per direction. Trans-fers from this line to TRTA and other subway lines provide strong intercity connections to the regional rail network.

Analysis of Metro Network Geometric Forms

After analyzing the above systems, three observations are apparent. First, there is a great deal of complexity involved with the integrated lines that operate in the New York subway network. Second, the overall area that each system covers varies significantly. All three metro sys-tems shared one dimension in network length — east-west for Mexico City and New York City, and north-south for Tokyo. The north-south length of the Mexico City network was the longest, followed by New York, with Tokyo having the smallest, almost square overall network shape.

Third, the history and geography of each city has, greatly influenced the spatiality of each network. Tokyo’s network has a grid overlaid on a circular orientation, surrounding the Imperial Palace at the center.

Figure 3. Diagram of Tokyo metro.

37

Mexico City, originally organic in form, has sprawled beyond municipal boundaries due to highways and topography. Finally, New York City’s reliance on the grid system has aligned several of the subway systems accordingly, due to the ease of the cut-and-cover construction tech-nique within the streets.

Classification of Metro Network Measures and Indicators Network Size and Form

Each network has a similar number of lines, and a difference of 166 kilometers in line length between the longest and shortest. The system with the longest network, New York, also has the greatest number of stations. Examining the station-to-station travel paths, the percentage that are direct in Tokyo (6 percent) is the lowest out of the three sys-tems. In Mexico City, 9 percent of the station-to-station trips are direct, and in New York City 14 percent are direct. This is a significant differ-ence between independent line systems and integrated line systems.

Tokyo has only independent lines, without branches, merges, or over-laps with other lines. This enables most trips to be made between any two stations in the network with no more than one transfer (Vuchic 2005). Therefore, the percentage of stations in Mexico City and Tokyo that are transfer stations is higher due to their independent nature. In Tokyo, 70 percent of the stops along a line provide a passenger with an option to transfer to another line. This way, users of the system have an extreme variety in origins and destinations. This is reflected in low number of direct origin-destination pairs. In New York, the option to transfer at along any one route decreases to 38 percent, and although the system in Mexico City is composed of independent lines, the inter-sections of lines are such that only 30 percent of stations offer transfers along any given route. Unlike the system in Tokyo, this provides users with fewer options for destinations from any given point within the city.

Network Topology

The average spacing betweens stations in Mexico City and Tokyo is much greater than in New York City. Because the New York City system has many more stations than the other two systems, this makes sense as the three systems do not vary drastically in length.

Further, the average spacing of parallel lines in each city is greatest in Mexico City, with several lines running parallel in the north-south di-rection, and three lines running parallel in the east-west direction. This system also has the greatest number of tangential lines.

New York City has the closest spacing of parallel lines among the systems analyzed, even with many lines sharing similar alignments on their trunks. Based on the location of the center city, New York has an even number of diametrical and radial lines (42 percent of lines), and only three of 26 lines do not enter center the city at all. Further, the existence of Local/Express trains operating along the same line enables efficient operation through densely spaced stations.

Conversely, Tokyo has no purely parallel lines, as each line crosses the

center, catering to the city’s circular urban form. Within the center city parallel lines are within 800 meters of one other. All the lines in the To-kyo system are diametrical, with the exception of a radial line that acts somewhat diametrically. The TOEI Odeo line is radial with a loop that runs around center city before radiating out of the central area.

The presence and dominance of a type of line helps measure how im-portant the central city is to a city. In Tokyo and New York the central city is important exhibited by the fact that all lines in Tokyo and almost all lines in New York City pass into or through the central city area. In Mexico City, the existence of several tangential lines decreases the significance of the central city, but these lines are less likely peaked with capacity compared to the lines passing into or through the central city.

The overlapping nature of each system is attributed to its characteris-tic as an independent or integrated system. The network complexity measure does not vary much between the three systems. The directness of service measure indicates that the integrated New York City network is the most direct.

Relationship of Metro Network to the City

The density of each metro network is similar, with New York’s system being slightly denser. The network extensiveness per population is greatest in New York City because the city has a lower population and longer network than the other two cities.

All three systems demonstrate a relation to the center city, and all three systems have high passenger utilization. The factors discussed in the previous sections contribute to the relationship between the city and the metro network. Mexico City, despite the lower income per popula-tion, has many cars on the road and an expansive highway network. New York, Mexico City and Tokyo all have connections to modes besides rail. In Mexico City, numerous mini bus operators exist in addi-tion to the traditional forms of street transit.

Conclusion The relation between the form a metro network takes and the subse-quent travel paths available to the public has a direct correlation. The ability of a network to serve a population effectively, and ensure a high level of service becomes complex. The approaches taken by the Mexico City Metro, Tokyo TRTA, and New York subway systems vary, but each is effective as passenger rates are high. The Tokyo system carries the most passengers daily, but also has the largest population. The area of coverage for passengers is greatest in New York City.

Both Tokyo and Mexico have systems that were designed without branches to ensure maximum reliability of service, while the integrated New York system requires more coordination and can be subject to delays. Further, the number of radial versus diametrical lines in the system requires different amounts of land to be available within center cities for trains to turn around, as well as contributing to the impor-tance of the center city.

Spacing of stations, parallel lines and transfer stations within the sys-tem all contribute strongly to unique metro network geometry. While

PANORAMA 200938

history of the city and the system plays a role in determining line align-ments and station spacing, making changes to the existing network after performing an analysis based on the geometry of the system can greatly improve the system. Tokyo, a much younger city than Mexico City and New York City, as it was rebuilt after 1945 has not had to grapple with the history of the network as much as the other cities. This later development in coordination with the rebuilding of Tokyo has led to the creations on an almost ubiquitous system.

Mexico City, Tokyo and New York City all function as important economic hubs. The spatial relationship of each city dictates its urban strategy. A polycentric city — or a city less focused toward the center city — will have lower network densities with a less robust system. Conversely, a monocentric city, with strong orientation toward the center, must have a robust transit system to function efficiently. Due to the high GDP of Tokyo and New York City, this must be true.

The next step in evaluating the effectiveness and efficiency of a metro network should be to analyze the daily operations and operating structure of the system. How each agency responds to a different geo-metrical network also has strong implications for facilitating the travel patterns of the city.

In conclusion, Mexico City has a sprawling network that is the least complex of the three systems. New York City has a complicated integrated system that provides large coverage of the city due to the numerous stations in the system. Tokyo’s metro system is extremely coordinated and focuses strongly on the center city. Analysis of these systems has brought to light the relationship among the differential ele-ments involved in the structure and overall spatial organization of each subway system. New construction of metro systems in cities should realize the relationship between network form and the spatial organiza-tion, or proposed urban form and plan new networks accordingly. While connecting job centers and residential centers makes sense initially, the overall network form can have strong implications for how and in what sectors a city will grow and develop.

Glossary

Cut-and-cover construction – Process by which a street is excavated for a subway alignment.

Diametrical lines – Lines that connect suburbs on different sides of the city center.

Directness of travel – Ratio of passenger-km traveled on the network to passenger-km along straight O-D lines.

Radial lines – Lines having one terminus in the city center and the other in the suburbs.

Tangential lines – lines that follow a tangential direction with respect to the city center

(Source: Vuchic, 2005)

ReferencesCity Mayors Statistics. 2007. “The 150 richest cities in the world by GDP in 2005,” online,

www.citymayors.com/statistics/richest-cities-2005.html, accessed April 25, 2008.

The City of New York. 2008. “PlaNYC: Transportation goals,” online, www.nyc.gov/html/planyc2030/html/plan/transportation.shtml, accessed April 27, 2008.

City Population. 2007. “Agglomerations of the World,” online, www.citypopulation.de/World.html, accessed April 25, 2007.

Google Earth 2008.

Government of the Federal District. 2008. “History of the City of Mexico,” online (translated by AltaVista), www.df.gob.mx/ciudad/historia/index.html, accessed April 25, 2008.

Metropolitan Transportation Authority, http://mta.info/index.html, accessed March 10, 2008.

MTA. 2008. “Second Avenue Subway: Project Description,” online, www.mta.info/capconstr/sas/sas_description.htm, accessed April 25, 2008.

Morris, Gov, Simon deWitt, and John Rutherford. 1811.“Remarks of the Commissioners for laying out streets and roads in the city of New York, Under the Act of April 3, 1807,” online, www.library.cornell.edu/Reps/DOCS/nyc1811.htm, accessed April 27, 2008.

Mexico City Metro, http://www.metro.df.gob.mx/, accessed March 10, 2008.

NYC Metropolitan Transportation Commission, http://www.nymtc.org/, accessed March 10, 2008.

Servicio de Transportes Electricos del D.F. 2008. Website, www.ste.df.gob.mx/index.html, accessed March 10, 2008.

Tokyo Metro, http://www.tokyometro.jp/global/en/index.html, accessed March 10, 2008.

Vuchic, Vukan. 1999. Transportation for Livable Cities. New Jersey: Rutgers.

Vuchic, Vukan. 2005. Urban Transit: Operations, Planning, and Economics. Hoboken, NJ: John Wiley & Sons, Inc.

39

by John ReinhaRdt and lee FaRmeR

IntroductionDisaster struck the Netherlands late at night on February 1, 1953. Unable to contain the rising water caused by a powerful hurricane, dikes throughout the country failed. Although residents had lived with the prospect of flooding since the country’s earliest settlements (Netherlands, literally translated, means “low lands”), nothing prepared them for the scope of carnage caused by a substantial weather event coupled with weakened and insufficient dike infrastructure (Deltawerken 2009). Massive flooding directly resulted in the deaths of 1,836 people, with another 40 dying of flood-related causes (Deltawerken 2009). The brackish floodwaters of the North Sea killed 200,000 livestock and caused lasting contamination of fertile soil. Many of those who survived were forced to relocate, as the disaster destroyed large swaths of houses and farms (Deltawerken 2009).

The tragedy had a profound effect on the Dutch people, further shaping their attitude toward water and crystallizing their determination to prevent a similar catastrophe.

Twenty days after the flooding, the Delta Commission formed to oversee the swift implementation of the Deltaplan. The ambitious plan, already issued in 1950 but not carried out, called for the erection of dams and other protective measures (Del-tawerken 2009). This led to the systematic construction of what is now known as the Deltaworks—a complicated network of engineered flood protection that, according to the official Deltaworks web site, is “sometimes referred to as the ‘eighth wonder of the world’—and not without good reason.”

Safety and Value From WaterLessons Learned from the Dutch Approach to Urbanism

PANORAMA 200940

Today, the Dutch share a complicated relationship with water. The Deltaworks web site explains: “It is a cliché, but a true cliché: without water, we cannot survive. It is not only human beings who would be in danger without water, but also plants and animals would not survive…It is not only a shortage of water that can cause trouble, a surplus of water can cause harm too.” In their current work, Dutch planners and designers seek to balance the life-giving and life-threatening aspects of water through a goal of deriving safety as well as value.

Such a goal requires Dutch planners to accept several principles that guide their work. The first rule is that climate is not constant, but changes over time—and for a variety of reasons (Deltawerken 2009). Second, sea-level is rising; “since 1992, satellite altimetry indicates a rate of about 3 mm per year” (Deltawerken 2009). Third, man-made, engineered solutions to flooding should both respect and understand natural landscapes (Deltawerken 2009).

The approach of deriving safety and value from water has made the Dutch leaders in water management and served as an economic devel-opment tool. Thousands of professionals visit the country each year to study the interplay between engineered and natural systems, view the dikes and polders, and discuss ideas such as the “super-levee.” Tourists, meanwhile, enjoy the canals of Amsterdam and pay up to 880 euro for a tour of the Deltaworks. Global conferences such as AquaTerra Forum focus on Delta Urbanism issues, while Dutch planners and government officials consult and advise around the world — from the Bay Area in California, to New Orleans in Louisiana, and everywhere in between.

Why should planning professionals take notice? At the 2007 AquaTerra Forum, “planners recognized that 50% of the world’s population and most of its economic might is clustered near coasts and ports, where the need to develop, expand and maintain infrastructure runs head-on into the need to work and live with some of the most dynamic and fragile environments on earth” (Sawyer 2007). Statistics presented at the 2009 AquaTerra Forum in February prove even more sobering: an estimated 80 percent of the world’s mega cities will be located in delta areas by 2015 (AquaTerra Forum 2009). Given current global climate changes, managing water is sure to become one of the most important and pressing issues facing 21st century planners.

Penn’s Role in the exchange of ideas between the Delaware River Basin and the Netherlands

In fall of 2008, an University of Pennsylvania city planning and urban design studio led by Professor Jonathan Barnett was charged with determining the local and regional impacts of global climate change for the Delaware River Basin. The students’ work focused on three distinct hazards: sea level rise, storm surge from a tropical storm system, and variation in seasonal flooding. They were asked to develop strategies for the region to adapt to these risks, and to forecast and consider these risks through the year 2100.

Students quickly learned that the political approach to water pro-tection in the Netherlands is quite different to that of the United States. The Netherlands—where more than half of the country lives below sea level— approaches the threat from water with a hard, engineered approach, structurally engineering solutions to ensure protection of the country from a 1-in-10,000-chance flood event. The United States, due to its large land area and relatively dispersed population, deals with climatic risks using a risk management and insurance-based approach. Mindful of the differences in govern-mental and political structure, the studio adopted several site-specif-ic approaches for the Delaware River Basin Ideas included envision-ing water parks like those found in Rotterdam (which double as both water storage and recreation) for a site in Port Jervis, N.Y., and using polders (reclaimed land protected by manmade devices as those seen in Randstad) for a site at the Philadelphia International Airport.

On Jan. 16, 2009, regional stakeholders and decision-makers concerned with the Delaware River watershed gathered at Penn for a conference entitled Climate Change: Impacts and Responses in the Delaware River Basin. More than 60 attendees heard a presenta-tion from the studios. Discussions focused on the need to establish a regional agenda for dealing with the projected effects of climate change and on the mitigation and adaptation response strategies that had been developed by students in the studio. The critical nature of the discussion was reinforced by New Orleans architect David Waggoner, who gave a keynote address on the innovative adaptation measures currently being envisioned in New Orleans.

As a result of the studio’s work, local and regional decision mak-ers, government officials, and regional organizations have started a conversation about how to best develop an agenda to prepare for the projected impacts of climate change in the Delaware River Basin. Regional organizations are using student work to model these impacts and suggest strategies for adaptation. In addition, regional leaders recognize that the Dutch have an approach to dealing with both the current and future threat of climate change that is both insightful and applicable to the unique conditions of the Delaware River Basin.

Editor’s Note: The climate change studio won the 2009 AICP National Student Award for Application of a Planning Process

by JeRemy kRotz and nikki thoRpe

Site visit. CPLN Studio in Amsterdam learning from Dutch Urbanism.

41

In recent years, the Dutch have been sharing their vision of deriving safety and value from water. Disasters such as Hurricane Katrina and increasing worldwide acceptance of sea level rise have put a new spotlight on the Dutch approach. The lessons the Dutch learned following the 1953 flood have im-portant implications today. This paper explores the efforts undertaken by in-stitutions such as the University of Pennsylvania and the American Planning Association as they attempt to learn about issues of Delta Urbanism, apply lessons learned from the Dutch, and overcome implementation challenges presented by differing political, social, and philosophical foundations.

New Orleans: Rebuilding the City After Hurricane KatrinaSimilar to the residents of the Netherlands, the citizens of New Orleans have always had a complicated relationship with the surrounding water. Europeans settled there because of its strategic position on the Mississippi River and easy access to the Gulf of Mexico through Lake Pontchartrain and Lake Borgne. This location enabled New Orleans to grow into the third largest city in the United States by 1840 and become the nation’s preeminent port (Campanella 2008). At the same time, the city’s population was constrained to the higher ground along the river and the ridges left behind by former river beds. Most of the land that currently makes up Greater New Orleans was swamp until technology in the early 20th century allowed the water to be drained and the population to spread out. Still, residents could expect periodic flooding, as well as outbreaks of diseases such as Yellow Fever spread by the ever-present mosquitoes.

An inevitable result of draining the swamps was subsidence, as previ-ously waterlogged soil settled. In addition, the construction of levees along the Mississippi River following the Great Mississippi Flood of 1927 meant that fresh Midwestern soil no longer replenished the land along the riverbanks during seasonal flooding. As a result, even much of the high ground has subsided by 1 to 2 feet over the past century. In the former back swamps of Lakeview and Gentilly, neighborhoods within New Orleans, the soil has subsided by as much as 4 to 6 feet (Campanel-la 2008). As noted by the geographer Richard Campanella, “the fact that roughly half of modern New Orleans falls below sea level is an anthro-

Conference participants tour pumps in New Orleans.

Sea level rise. Map showing affected populations along the Delaware River in 2100.

Port Jervis proposal. Site plan (above), section through site in dry conditions (middle) and section thruogh site in flooded conditions (bottom). Source: Kristin Michael.

PANORAMA 200942

pogenic condition” (Campanella 2008, p. 129). In New Orleans, keeping the water out is a daily struggle, accomplished using a complex system of canals and pumps. And as evidenced during Hurricane Katrina, the current system is woefully ill-equipped to handle major storms.

New Orleans’ situation is made all the more precarious by the effects of human activity on the wetlands that stand between the city and the Gulf of Mexico. Levees that protect residents all along the Mississippi from floods also starve the delta of the rich soil it needs to replenish itself and grow. Channels dug through the bayous for shipping and oil and gas lines contribute to erosion. The barrier islands that once stood between the Gulf and the bayous have all but disappeared, and the bayous themselves are steadily retreating. Aside from the value of the bayou as an ecosystem and an income source, wetlands and barrier

islands provide protection from hurricanes and tropical storms, absorb-ing much of their fury. Without this protection, the settlements further inland, including the city of New Orleans, become much more vulner-able.

On August 29, 2005, disaster struck New Orleans. Although residents had long been aware of their city’s precarious position, like the citizens of the Netherlands in 1953, nothing prepared them for the size and scope of the carnage caused by a substantial weather event coupled with weakened and insufficient levee infrastructure (Deltawerken 2009). Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath killed 1,836 people. How-ever, while flooding left the Dutch with a resolve to quickly fortify and protect, federal response to Hurricane Katrina was less stong-handed and visionary, per the principles of federalism—leaving much of the leadership on rebuilding and fortifying New Orleans to local govern-ment, academic institutions, and non-profit organizations.

Hurricane Katrina brought national and international attention to the challenges facing New Orleans and the entire Gulf Coast. However, New Orleans is by no means unique in this sense. Even major cities like New York and London must confront rising sea levels and more intense storms. Other populous delta regions around the world, including but not limited to the Pearl River, Yellow River, and Yangtze River deltas in China, the Niger Delta in Nigeria, the Sacramento-San Joaquin Delta in California, the Mekong River Delta in Vietnam, and the Ganges

Delta in India, are also threatened by issues common to cities in river deltas: loss of habitat, flood risk, coastal erosion, salt water intrusion, pollution, infrastructure needs, the tension between economic and ecologic priorities, and land subsidence. The rebuilding of New Orleans, therefore, has worldwide implications for how human settlements must adapt if they are to survive and prosper in these landscapes.

Dutch Dialogues II

In October 2008, American and Dutch planners, landscape architects, and engineers met in New Orleans for a workshop entitled Dutch Dialogues II – Safety and Value from the Water. This was the second workshop organized by the American Planning Association, the Dutch Embassy in Washington, D.C., and David Waggoner, a local architect. Participants were tasked with developing concepts for water manage-ment systems that would also provide amenities to the citizens of New Orleans. As noted by Paul Farmer, Executive Director and CEO of the American Planning Association and a Louisiana native, the recovery of New Orleans depends in large part on citizen confidence in the city’s flood protection systems. However, with the increasing mobility of jobs and people, the city must also take advantage of its resources to create the amenities that people value in urban places. New Orleans is sur-rounded by water. People like being near water. Why not take advantage of it (Farmer 2008)?

Workshop participants were divided into three teams, each with a dif-ferent scale. A regional team focused on large-scale environmental and economic issues. A “sub-regional” team examined the polder (low-lying land that is part of a drainage system and formed by artificial barriers) defined by the Gentilly Ridge, the London Avenue Canal, the Industrial Canal, and Lake Pontchartrain (referred to as the Gentilly team). And a “neighborhood” team looked at the Central City neighborhood. On the second and third days of the workshop, these teams worked to develop concepts to manage water and create amenities at each scale. On the fourth day, these concepts were presented to elected officials, includ-ing city council members and U.S. Senator David Vitter. Following the presentation to elected officials, the concepts were shown again at a packed public exhibition.

Proposals for Claiborne Avenue included Dutch principles. Source: John Reinhardt.

The CPLN studio presents its research in Den Haag, Netherlands.

43

The Concepts

The Dutch approach to water includes protection from the sea in the form of levees and “super-levees.” It also demands management of normal and heavy storms in a country where, like in New Orleans, the water table is very close to the surface. This approach was evident in the concepts presented by each team.

The regional-scale team recommended coastal restoration and the construction of barrier islands in the Gulf of Mexico for protection from storm surges. In addition, the group proposed to construct gates at the entrances to the Industrial Canal and at the point where the Mississippi River-Gulf Outlet (MRGO) and the Intracoastal Waterway converge. These gates could be closed during hurricanes and tropical storms, reducing the pressure on canal walls. Both the regional and Gentilly concepts focused on taking advantage of the Lake Pontchar-train waterfront by creating restraints in the form of barrier islands and super-levees that could also be used for recreation. Super-levees are, in the words of Dutch landscape architects Pieter de Greef and Stephan Slabbers, “levees that cannot fail.” These structures are not only high enough to avoid a specified storm surge height, they are also up to a half mile or even a mile wide, so that even if overtopped they provide protection to the low-lying areas behind them. In concept, the super-levees are often shown sloping gently towards the water, allowing recreational uses along the waterfront, with development on top of the levee.

As David Waggoner said at a presentation of the Dutch Dialogues concepts during the 2009 AquaTerra Forum, “if you get the water right, everything else follows.” All three concepts addressed day-to-day drainage and water storage during and after heavy rain. A familiar concept was the use of canals. In New Orleans, these would be constructed in the medians of existing streets (known locally as the “neutral ground”), often enhanced with plantings of Live Oak trees, a fixture in older parts of the city. The Dutch also pro-posed taking advantage of new pumps being installed at the entrances to the 17th Street and London Avenue canals to lower the water level of the canals (which is currently higher than the surrounding land) and create public spaces along their banks. Less familiar were some other concepts for water storage. The regional group proposed constructing wetlands between the existing Lake Pontchartrain shore-line and the super-levee, and using City Park for extra water storage during storms. The Gentilly group also proposed the use of a large park and golf course, Pontchartrain Park, for this purpose. The Central City group proposed a cascading system of canals and pumps that would make use of the area’s topography (sloping from the Mississippi River to the former back swamps) to maintain a constant water table in nor-mal and dry conditions and to store excess water during heavy storms.

True to their charge, the concepts presented by the Dutch proposed making New Orleans more livable and accessible while making it safer.

Proposals included streetcar lines along Claiborne and Elysian Fields avenues, which would connect lower-density residential neighborhoods to downtown and each other. They also stressed aspects of urban design that would transform streets into public spaces, such as through the simple use of trees to provide shade and a sense of enclosure. And the Dutch vision of canals appears closer to what can be seen in Holland than in New Orleans. Water would be an amenity to be celebrated, rather than feared as it is now, with canals hidden behind walls or encased in concrete culverts.

Next Steps

The process employed at Dutch Dialogues II allowed American and Dutch planners to collaborate on a common problem and envision solutions that may not have been imagined otherwise. In many ways, the Dutch were free to propose a vision for the city unfettered by longstanding political, social, and economic realities. Where ideas seemed too outlandish, Americans with expertise in the nuances and local landscape of New Orleans provided firm guidance to help inform the proposals. The varied areas of expertise, combined with a tight timeframe, forced professionals from both countries to clearly articu-late their ideas, justify their apprehensions, and reevaluate their pre-conceived notions of what is possible in the city.

Moving forward, planning and design professionals continue to develop and share the ideas proposed at the Dutch Dialogues. The American Planning Association will return to New Orleans in 2010 for its National Planning Conference, along with invited guests from the Netherlands. APA will also develop a special conference track dedi-cated to Delta Urbanism, and talks are in the works to conduct another collaborative workshop with professionals from both countries. David Waggoner of the New Orleans-based Waggoner & Ball Architects has taken a lead role in continuing the dialogue, reaching out to partner with institutions such as the American Planning Association and the University of Pennsylvania on additional projects, one of which is the Delaware River Basin project (see story on p. 40).

Participants sketch alternatives at the Dutch Dialogues conference.

PANORAMA 200944

Conclusion: Obstacles and Opportunities to Derive Safety and Value from WaterWhat lessons should urban planners in the United States learn from the past several years of collaboration with the Dutch? First, while it is important to recognize that while there are some fundamental dif-ferences in our governmental and design philosophies, the exchange of ideas resulting from ongoing collaboration will lead to further safety and value for communities on both sides of the Atlantic.

As mentioned earlier, the Dutch believe it is the government’s duty to protect citizens and prevent a disaster of that magnitude of 1953. In the Netherlands, this has been accomplished through massive govern-ment investment in infrastructure to manage threats and protect the populace. The United States has generally adopted a risk-management and insurance-based approach. This approach caused the United States to invest money and resources toward developing hazard mitigation and emergency evacuation plans. This is an area of increasing interest to Dutch planners, who focus more on prevention. Many U.S. cities, such as New Orleans, have already developed, refined, and tested emer-gency evacuation plans using federal and state funds. Dutch planners

are increasingly looking to the United States to provide expertise and guidance on mitigation, preparedness, and evacuation planning.

Secondly, it is important to remember the wisdom of the Dutch: “without water, we cannot survive.” In recent times, many U.S. cities have sought to manage water by putting it underground and out of sight. The Dutch propose that we can learn to live with water instead of fighting against it. As planners and designers, we do not have to cut off access to water to design safe cities. We can design systems that both protect from flooding and add beauty and amenities to neighborhoods through access to water. Although we live in a litigious society, the Dutch envisioned our citizens using the canals in New Orleans as front doors — for sport and recreation and as community gathering places — rather than as back doors. They helped American students envision the Delaware River Basin not as simply a danger to shun, but as water parks for both safety (water storage) and value (beauty and fun).

In addition, a systems approach is crucial to the Dutch view of water management, as well as using “multiple layers of defense” — both natu-ral and man-made. The Dutch view water safety, water quantity, water quality, and spatial planning as an interlinked system that affords many opportunities for safe development.

Finally, we must recognize and accept that climate change is happening, as the Dutch already have. We can then realize that the opportunity to derive safety and value from water is not only a framework from which to derive beauty or add economic value. It becomes a necessity. Ideally, all planners working in coastal or delta communities will recognize this — and remain mindful of opportunities to live safely and beneficially with water.

For Further Reading of Delta UrbanismThe Dutch Delta Plan

http://www.deltawerken.com/English/10.html?setlanguage=en

Rotterdam Climate Proof/Waterplan

http://www.rotterdamclimateinitiative.nl/

San Francisco Bay Plan

http://www.bcdc.ca.gov/pdf/planning/plans/bayplan/bayplan.pdf

Rising Tides Design Ideas Competition

http://www.bcdc.ca.gov/rising_tides.shtm

California Bay Delta Vision

http://www.deltavision.ca.gov/

California Climate Change Adaptation Strategy

http://www.climatechange.ca.gov/adaptation

ReferencesAquaterra Forum 2009, Dialogue with Aquaterra Moderators. Tuesday, February 10, 2009.

Campanella, R. Bienville’s Dilemma: A Historical Geography of New Orleans. Center for Louisiana Studies, University of Louisiana at Lafayette, November 2008.

Deltawerken Online, “The First Floods,” “Climactic Circumstances,” “Rescue and Consequences,” “The Deltaworks,” “Water,” “Climate Changes,” “Sea Level Rise,” and “Nature.” Stichting Deltawerken Online, http://www.deltawerken.com. Accessed 5 February 2009.

Farmer, Paul. Remarks at the Dutch Dialogues II, New Orleans, LA, October 11, 2008.

Sawyer, Tom, “Vulnerable Coastal Zones are Focus of Dutch Forum,” Engineering News-Record, 258 no. 7 (February 2007), 12.

Participants work together to develop the alternatives for Claiborne Avenue.

45

by david mccaRthy

Opportunities for Aligning Planning and Urban Education

Planners have largely shied away from involvement with schools. Although planners deal with many aspects of city life relating to schools, such as economic development, neighborhood safety, public open space and land use, they have for the most part played a minor role in influencing urban education policy. Nevertheless, the failures associ-ated with urban education play major roles in the neighborhood problems that planners work to fix. There are several reasons for planners’ lack of involvement in schools, including disciplinary segregation, a political structure that separates schools from the greater city government, and limited access to educational policy (Kaufman and New-man, 1994). However, city planning and education share similar roots, having devel-oped from the industrial era through the progressive movement’s desire to improve urban life (Vitiello, 2006).

In recent years, the reform movements within both planning and education are begin-ning to converge on the idea of community-oriented schools. Reform-minded educa-tors stress the importance of opening schools to the community (Big Picture Learning, 2008), while reform-minded planners stress the importance of infusing planning with greater community participation (Susskind, 2000), including youth participation.

PANORAMA 200946

As the two fields converge, there is a growing realization that the coun-try will have to spend billions of dollars in the coming decade to replace aging educational infrastructure (Vitiello, 2006). Planners now have an enormous opportunity to play a leading role in weaving education and planning together into the community fabric by making schools the center of communities. This opportunity can benefit planners tremen-dously by bringing youth participation into the planning process and by increasing the effectiveness of neighborhood and city plans that have traditionally ignored schools. The opportunity can also benefit educa-tion by engaging youth to solve real-world problems, which is a central focus of much of the educational reform movement.

The idea to join planning and education is not new. In early-1900s Chicago, the business leaders who financed Daniel Burnham’s ambi-tious plan devised a forward-thinking strategy to build support: they took the plan directly to the citizens and, importantly, to the schools. Charles Wacker, one of the business leaders, hired Walter Moody to be the “master salesman of city planning.” Moody struck upon the brilliant idea to teach the plan — which he summarized into a simple, promo-tional work called Wacker’s Manual of the Plan of Chicago — directly to the youth of Chicago. About this idea Moody wrote:

The results of this book appear three-fold – attracting the attention and

sympathy of the parents to the Plan of Chicago through the children as a

medium; the training of a future citizenry to become responsible in mat-

ters of governmental control; the ultimate accomplishment of the whole

Plan in future years through an enlightened citizenry (Wrigley, 1983).

The Chicago Board of Education adopted Wacker’s Manual in 1912 and printed 50,000 copies that were used as an eighth-grade text (Wrigley, 1983). The plan became one of the biggest successes in the early city planning movement, generating most notably the system of parks that line Lake Michigan and for which Chicago is famous.

Another precedent for bringing planning to the schools in the com-munity development model of planning that emerged in the 1960s. Community development was seen as an antidote to the excesses of the urban renewal period, during which local planning czars would demol-ish neighborhoods, build highways, and enact vast plans with little or no community participation. There was also a growing realization that the cities were becoming the place of last refuge for the poor, yet older planning models did not include or develop solutions for issues of race, poverty and equity. In the community development model, planners focused on issues of equity (Krumholz and Forrester, 1995), increasing participation from local communities in the planning process (Davidoff, 1995), and advocating for the powerless (Forrester, 1995) instead of the data-based, dispassionate rational planning model of the urban renewal era. According to the philosophy of community development planning, planners operate in a political world and cannot be value neutral, but must instead advocate specific positions, especially those that protect society’s most vulnerable.

This implies that planners should engage the youth and schools in planning: youth are often society’s most vulnerable citizens and display low levels of participation in community decision-making (Checkoway, 1998). Additionally, schools can play an important role in community development: they can become community centers and neighborhood commons, a way to promote neighborhood redevelopment and real

estate investment, and a means to integrate segregated neighborhoods (Khadduri, et al., 2003). In order to fully leverage the positive com-munity development benefits that schools can bring, planners must become active in schools to understand the challenges they face.

Unfortunately, there are few examples of planners engaging schools, and this remains an area of little research. However, two major theo-ries of planning relate directly to planning involvement in schools: The “Ladders of Participation” theory that originated with Arnstein, and the “Ladder of Young People’s Participation,” which is Hart’s adaptation of Arnstein’s ladder. Also, significant research shows the benefits young people enjoy as a result of participation in real-world projects. Adding to these theories are theories of educational reform, which also point to the benefits of youth participation. These theories will be explored in the five case studies of collaborations between planning and education to follow.

Theoretical FrameworkAgain, in community development, meaningful community participa-tion is vital to ensuring that a plan is politically viable and reflects the voices of all community members. Arnstein’s “Ladder of Participation” describes different levels of decision-making power that citizens can hold in the participation process. The ideal participation processes are higher up the ladder, where citizens have real decision-making power. Arnstein’s descriptions for the lower rungs of the ladder (“Tokenism” and “Nonparticipation”) demonstrate that participation processes can include citizens without granting them any true power (Arnstein, 1969). Arnstein devised the ladder to “highlight the fundamental point that participation without redistribution of power is an empty and frustrating process for the powerless” (Arnstein, 1969).

The sociologist Roger Hart adopted this framework with his “Ladder of Young People’s Participation,” which was specifically designed for adults to engage youth in community projects. He argues that children can participate meaningfully in their communities and that participation should involve a real transfer of power from adults to youth in order to be effective. Hart argues that children’s participation is a cornerstone of democracy, and while the form of participation should vary depend-ing on age, the existence of power-sharing should not (Hart, 1997). Hart sees schools as the primary institution in which youth participa-tion should be encouraged and exercised, noting the paradox between Western nations that embrace democracy yet continue to practice autocracy in their schools (Hart, 1997).

The importance of citizen participation is recognized in the American Institute of Certified Planners’ Code of Ethics, which states:

“We shall give people the opportunity to have a meaningful impact on the

development of plans and programs that may affect them. Participation

should be broad enough to include those who lack formal organization or

influence” (American Planning Association, 1995).

Youth are clearly a group that “lack[s] formal organization or influ-ence,” because they are often left out of community decision-making. The main reasons are a combination of adult domination and youth disinterest. The concept of youth participation runs contrary to

47

many deep-set parenting and schooling philosophies that emphasize authoritarian models of control in order to socialize youth and promote stability (Hart, 1997). On the other hand, youth often feel alienated and indifferent to forces that shape their environment, feeling little control over factors that influence their neighborhoods (Checkoway, 1998). Nonetheless, every planner has the responsibility of attempting to break down these barriers to encourage youth participation.

For youth, meaningful youth participation comes in many forms. Checkoway identifies five of them:

Social Action � , or organizing youth around a particular political or neighborhood issue;Community Planning � , or involving and engaging youth in the process of developing plans for their local community, some-times even recruiting youth to complete specific tasks to aid the planning process;Public Advocacy � , or engaging youth in political action to advo-cate their political leaders and voice their interests;Community Education � , or challenging youth to question their environment and, through learning about issues themselves, to educate their community; andLocal Services Development � , or involving youth in local com-munity services, such as rehabilitating dilapidated housing. (Checkoway, Pothukuchi and Finn, 1992)

Youth can benefit in many ways from participating in community development projects. Hart divides the benefits into two types: those that aid the individual in becoming a more “competent and confident” member of society, and those that help develop the community (Hart, 1997). Young people benefit individually from meaningful participa-tion by finding purpose and responsibility, which they are often denied by adults who view them as troublemakers. Responsibility and purpose help youth develop self-esteem and a sense of personal agency — the ability to make change in their environment — and a sense that adults place value in their ideas (Checkoway, Pothukuchi and Finn, 1992). Youth projects that incorporate real-world uncertainty encourage them to think of “grayness” instead of traditional right or wrong answers, which is a powerful skill in a world in which there are few absolutes (Crabbe, 1989). Additionally, participation plays an important social-izing role in prompting youth to listen to others and respect their views, especially when their views are divergent (Hart, 1997). On an individual level, participation allows the development of many skills, including exerting control over decisions which affect youth (Crabbe, 1989), communication and oral skills (McKoy and Vincent, 2007), and “learning to learn.” It also forges the combination of organizational, interpersonal and research skills that benefit youth in their future employment (Bromley, 2008).

Youth can also improve community life. Youth bring energy, new ideas, a connection to place, and time to work on community devel-opment projects — assets that adults sometimes lack (Checkoway, 1998). Youth can also engage other youth through tutoring, mentoring or activating peer group networks to build grassroots organizations (Checkoway, 1992).

Engaging youth can benefit planners in today’s consensus-driven planning culture, where civic engagement and stakeholder interest

are crucial to the success of planning projects. Planners have histori-cally ignored youth involvement, but youth participation can build a bottom-up awareness and appreciation of planning, much like the Wacker’s Manual attempted to do in Chicago. For example, Anne Spirn’s influential work with teaching Philadelphia middle school students on reading the landscape developed out of a frustration with what she terms “landscape illiteracy” among developers, city officials, and the community at large (Spirn, 2005). Furthermore, training youth in planning can improve the future quality of community participation by making them competent adult participants who will remain active in their communities (Checkoway, Pothukuchi and Finn, 1992).

Youth engagement can additionally improve planning education. Professors and planning graduate students run many existing pro-grams that involve youth. In these programs, graduate students benefit from having to explain complicated planning concepts to a population that has often never heard of planning. Most importantly, gradu-ate students learn to listen to people with viewpoints differing from their own, a crucial skill for any aspiring planner (McKoy and Vincent, 2007). On a similar theme, engaging youth teaches multiculturalism and diversity, which prepares students for planning in an increasingly pluralistic world. Planning students can see first-hand the challenges of race, equity, and poverty through “experiential learning,” or learning gained primarily from thinking, feeling and acting (Thomas, 1997). A final benefit for planners is the development of “civic sector” skills such as innovation, challenging the status quo and community engagement — skills that are in high demand in the growing sector of non-profit organization, foundations and public advocacy groups (Yaro, 2000).

The theories about youth participation in planning and community life presented above begin with the assumption that young people are ca-pable of participating meaningfully and holding responsibility for com-pleting projects and tasks that improve their communities. Researchers have found that community participation produces many benefits for young people. But these theories are iconoclastic when compared to traditional models of schooling, in which the teacher holds absolute authority over the students. However, an emerging reform movement within the educational field seeks to promote youth participation and self-direction over their own education.

As early as the post-Civil War era, a movement labeled as “Democratic Localism” sought to reform schools from the bottom-up based on faith in the ability of the people to direct change in their local schools (Vitiello, 2006). This early movement translated into the Progressive Movement in educational reform in the early 1900s led by John Dewey and others who advocated for:

…applying in the classroom the pedagogical principles derived from new

scientific research in psychology and the social sciences and tailoring in-

struction more and more to the different kinds and classes of children who

were being brought within the purview of the school (Vitiello, 2006).

In the past 50 years, as the failures of large urban school systems have become publicized and debated, the progressive reform movements of education are being researched and applied through varying models that emphasize young people’s ability to direct their own education, community involvement, and detailed, project-based learning. In the late 1960s, James Comer researched ways in which schools could better

PANORAMA 200948

serve students’ social, emotional and psychological needs to combat destructive social climates. He developed three main components to his educational model, which were tested in New Haven, Conn., schools:

School governance teams that include major stakeholders, in- �cluding parents, in a power- and responsibility-sharing frame-work;Heavy parental involvement and engaging parents to help solve �problems; and School mental health teams, including a psychologist, social �worker and guidance counselor to encourage parents and chil-dren to work together in teams (Kaufman and Newman, 1994).

A further guideline was linking curriculum to community issues in order to make students participants in their communities. Henry Levin built on this idea by emphasizing developing curriculum that teaches subjects in depth by relating them to students’ everyday lives. Students are brought together to work collaboratively in teams, and their perfor-mance depends on their ability to work together productively. Theo-dore Sizer, in the 1980s, developed a model in which students learn a few subjects in depth and demonstrate their abilities through projects and portfolios of work instead of standardized tests. Howard Gardner theorized that students learn in at least seven different ways, which he termed “multiple intelligences,” but found that only two intelligences—linguistic and logical-mathematical—are taught in traditional schools. He sought to broaden education by building in apprenticeship with skilled professionals and creative development by activating commu-nity resources, such as local science centers (Kaufman and Newman, 1994).

One example of these theories in action is the Big Picture charter school model, which Dennis Littky and Eliot Washer began in 1995 in Provi-dence, R.I. Today there are 60 Big Picture schools in 14 states. They have produced impressive results in inner-city settings, boasting high graduation and college acceptance rates (Big Picture Learning, 2008). The Big Picture model stresses small schools (150 students maximum), learning by doing, outside mentors and internships, and student-directed learning. The first question any student in a Big Picture school is asked is, “What do you want to do?” From this question, students design their own learning path and teachers work with the students to organize their time, focus their learning, and develop contacts with mentors or internships. The emphasis is on students learning to learn, and gaining skills such as responsibility, self-direction, organization, and interviewing (Bromley 2008).

These models have gradually worked their way into school systems, especially through charter schools. Charter schools reflect in many ways the return of Democratic Localism: they are community-oriented, small-scale, and often founded with the aim to reconnect people to their local community (Vitiello, 2006). The overall philosophy of much of today’s educational reform theory, dating back more than 100 years, is that young people can reach their greatest potential when they direct their own learning, when their learning is connected to their surround-ings and when education plays a meaningful role in developing com-munity identity. While the models vary in how they implement that philosophy, they do not differ significantly in the emphasis on partici-pation, self-direction, and collaboration.

The theories presented here provide a strong impetus for increas-ing the linkages between planning and schools. Over the past 40 years, the planning field has steadily become more diverse, open, and concerned with meaningful participation. Opening the profession further to youth participation fits logically within the emerging theory of planning as consensus-building and offers multiple benefits to both young people and planners. At the same time, the education field has rediscovered Democratic Localism as a reform philosophy. Educational reformers stress the importance of strong ties between communities and schools, community development, and youth participation in their own education. The explosive growth in charter and alternative schools highlights this trend. The time is ripe for planners and educators to converge in creative partnerships that will benefit students, communi-ties and planning through collaborative community-oriented projects. The next section identifies a number of case studies in which planners and educators have created these partnerships, and demonstrate the many benefits that arise.

Case StudiesThese case studies reflect many of the theories discussed above and demonstrate unique partnerships between educators and planners. While the cases are generally the result of the work of one or two enter-prising individuals, they provide models that could be replicated on a larger scale.

1. Planning As Education

Two cases in Berkeley, Calif., and Philadelphia provide examples of planning projects infused into schools to educate both the graduate students who run the programs and the inner-city school students who participate. The Y-PLAN (Youth-Plan, Learn, Act, Now!) Studio, started in 2000, allows planning graduate students from University of California-Berkeley to work with inner-city students in a poor, primar-ily minority high school in West Oakland on a planning project. A potential project must meet three criteria: it must be “youth-friendly,” it must have educational value, and the youth must find the project interesting. The projects are meant to partner multiple stakeholders — including the grad students and youth, city officials, and community leaders — to tackle a community issue. The program is structured to “bring out the expertise in everyone,” as adults learn to listen to youth concerns and respond to fundamental questions such as, “What is planning?” while developers and city officials gain access to youth opin-ions that are rarely assessed. Over the course of the studio, graduate students direct the youth through a 10- to 12-week planning process in their community, culminating in a public presentation of the students’ planning proposals. Participating graduate students learn to navigate a planning process, engage communities they are not familiar with, listen to different opinions and proposals, and appreciate the importance of public education in community development. Participating youth learn about city planning and the forces that affect their community, gain access to decision-makers, and develop a wide range of oral, literacy and research skills.

The Y-PLAN depends on three factors for its success:

Projects address authentic community problems and bring �

49

together diverse stakeholders. The students present their work to city officials and see their work translate into concrete change in their community. Youth and adults share in decision-making, with students �working on all phases of the projects from design to implemen-tation. The Y-PLAN facilitators have made a conscious effort to move youth participants up Hart’s Ladder of Young People’s Participation so that their efforts meaningful. Youth also learn the importance of defending their proposals in front of an adult audience and modifying them when conditions require.Y-PLAN is institutionalized and sustainable, with the hopes that �recent HUD interest in the model will expand the program. It also has a lasting impact on participants. Several youth partici-pants have enrolled at UC-Berkeley, and graduate students have incorporated education into their professional careers.

A second, similar model of planning and educational collaboration is the West Philadelphia Landscape Project involving University of Penn-sylvania landscape architecture graduate students and middle school students in West Philadelphia’s Mill Creek neighborhood. Mill Creek is a poor, primarily minority neighborhood full of decay not unlike other areas of Philadelphia. But its overriding drawback is environmental degradation as a result of an eroded, buried creek that runs beneath the neighborhood and has caused streets and buildings to deteriorate and even collapse. The project director, Anne Spirn, sensed a complete lack of awareness on the part of Mill Creek residents and city officials of the natural environment’s effect on their neighborhood. From 1996 to 2001, the graduate students taught the middle school students to “read the landscape,” or decipher how the natural environment and human history have shaped the modern landscape of vacancy and decay.

The purpose of the class was to change the community’s perceptions that Mill Creek was divorced from the natural world and to teach youth how to investigate their surroundings and look for detail. They took field trips to search for traces of the buried creek and researched texts, maps, photographs and statistics. The youth slowly developed the ability to explain phenomena such as cave-ins or the design of their housing projects. The students finished by developing proposals for transforming Mill Creek, which they presented to the public.

Through the collaboration, the youth learned important investigation and research skills, including the ability to piece together disparate information into a hypothesis about why their neighborhood is the way it is. Most importantly, the youth came to appreciate their neighbor-hood’s history, environment and unique assets while developing plans to improve their community. For the graduate students, the experience made the lessons of landscape architecture real. Through their in-depth study of the landscape and the devastation it wrought upon the neigh-borhood, they learned to appreciate the importance of their profession. They also learned to appreciate issues of race and class. The Mill Creek project gained national recognition and began a conversation on how to redevelop the neighborhood with more sensitivity to the natural environment (Spirn, 2005).

2. Education As Planning

Schools have traditionally been overlooked in neighborhood and com-prehensive plans because they are usually run by an outside authority

— a Board of Education. But another model of education and planning collaboration is to make education the center of a community develop-ment plan. The philosophy of these cases is that inner-city schooling success depends on a neighborhood environment where school is made central to community life.

The first case study of education as planning is Roy Strickland’s “City of Learning” model, built on the principle that teachers and schools can benefit community life while bringing community life into the classroom can benefit education. The model conceives of schools as an anchor institution that can solidify neighborhoods by leveraging the so-cial and economic capital and energy of schools, students and teachers. From an architecture and urban design standpoint, Strickland argues schools should be designed to be community-oriented and accessible, not “big boxes” that shut down after school ends. Additionally, Strick-land argues schools should be, when possible, combined with other uses to encourage life-long learning and collaborations between schools and their communities (Strickland, 2002).

From a programming standpoint, Strickland argues schools should construct lesson plans from resources in their communities — through work-study, internships, and professional projects like the Y-PLAN or West Philadelphia Landscape Project (Strickland, 2000). Schools can also engage city government to give students real-world projects. Schools should be small, targeted academies that can more effectively engage their local community or a specific profession, such as the arts (Moffat, 2002).

One of the first examples of a City of Learning is in Paterson, N.J., which is undergoing a $700 million renovation and replacement of its existing schools, most of which were large, fortress-like schools whose students had chronically low test scores and high dropout rates. The city recognized that schools can generate economic development and created 10 new, smaller academies, many of which are located in the struggling downtown and in abandoned buildings. The city envisions the entire downtown becoming a campus of sorts for 1,000 to 2,000 middle- and high-school students attending academies that target existing assets. For example, the city created a communications and technology academy, a health and related professions academy, and a performing arts academy, all of which build on existing city strength in these economic sectors. Each of these schools mixes traditional curri-cula with project-oriented or studio settings. For example, the commu-nications and technology academy students designed a “neighborhood for living and learning” that would replace a barren and dangerous parking lot between two existing schools and a housing project with a mixture of streetscape improvement and community facilities (Mof-fat, 2002). In many ways the City of Learning model builds on the “learning-by-doing” aspects of the previous cases but expands the no-tion of school as a community asset.

A second example of education as planning is the Harlem Children’s Zone (HCZ), an ambitious effort led by Geoffrey Canada to demon-strate a model network of social and community programs that will make educational achievement a reality for poor, inner-city youth. The HCZ is a 60-block area of the Harlem neighborhood in New York City, in which Canada grew frustrated with the limited success of narrowly-focused anti-poverty programs. His philosophy in the HCZ was simple: inner-city schools will never succeed without fixing the students’

PANORAMA 200950

environment. Within the HCZ, Canada has created a densely-woven net of programs that run the gamut from “Baby College” to high-school mentoring and after-school tutoring. More than 20 programs confront every known environmental challenge facing inner-city families, includ-ing day care, parenting classes, after-school programs, nursery school-ing, counseling, and schooling through HCZ-run charter schools. HCZ staff aggressively pursue every parent, operating under the philosophy that all children will perform better when everyone around them is well. As of 2004, 88 percent of children in Canada’s original 24-block area were enrolled in at least one program. Canada hopes the program will “put a price tag on poverty,” giving policy-makers a figure per pupil of what it costs to turn around educational failure among inner-city youth (Tough, 2004).

The HCZ reflects the emerging philosophy that reforming schools re-quires a more holistic approach. Canada realized that schools and their environments are interdependent, and that to make schools succeed one must create a community of achievement surrounding them. His network of social programs recognize that inner-city youth perform better when their learning is positioned within their community, whether through projects that address community needs, collaboration with community stakeholders, or programs that create a community of learning around them.

The case studies demonstrate the tremendous opportunities that exist to weave schools and communities together to promote a culture of achievement. All parties stand to benefit from greater collaboration between schools and planners. The next section explores how to make these connections work in practice, building on my observations of the involvement of Penn undergraduate students with a community devel-opment class at West Philadelphia High School.

Education and Planning in West Philadelphia High School

From September through December 2008 I participated in a com-munity development class in West Philadelphia High School (WPHS) in which Penn undergraduate students worked with the high school students to investigate and propose alternatives for the Croydon build-ing, a large, abandoned apartment building adjacent to the school. My observations of the class demonstrate many of the theories and case studies lessons presented above, but also show the difficulties inherent in collaboration within a difficult inner-city environment.

West Philadelphia is in many ways two worlds: in the west it is a poor, predominantly African-American community that suffers from high crime rates and exhibits abandonment and vacancy; in the east it is wealthier, more diverse, has an upwardly-moving real estate mar-ket, and is dominated by Penn and Drexel students and professors. Although WPHS is less than a mile from Penn, the high school student body reflects only the western portion of West Philadelphia. The school houses 1,070 students—compared to 5,500 when it first opened—and is 97 percent African-American. The school exhibits problems typically associated with inner-city schools: 75 percent of students in 2005 were “below basic” in reading on the Pennsylvania State System Assessment test, the graduation rate ranges between 40 and 50 percent, average daily truancy is 25 percent, and the school gained notoriety for acts of violence within its halls (Concordia, LLC, 2006). The Philadelphia School District is developing plans for a “new” WPHS, which will be

broken into four smaller, targeted academies like the City for Learning or Big Picture models.

The Penn students participated as part of a special cross-listed class that combined professors John Puckett of the Graduate School of Education and Elaine Simon of the Urban Studies Department. We participated in the WPHS class once a week for 11 weeks. The WPHS class centered on community development and is taught in the school’s “Urban Studies Academy,” which is not housed separately from the school. The Penn undergraduates and WPHS students were given wide latitude to organize and shape the project to reflect their interests.

The semester began with Penn undergraduates leading the WPHS stu-dents on a walking tour of the Croydon building to generate student in-terest. The students noted the questions they wished to answer about the building over the course of the semester. The questions demon-strated that the students intuitively recognize the forces shaping their neighborhood but do not understand why. Questions included, “Why hasn’t the building been demolished yet?” “Why is such a negative thing allowed to remain next to something that is supposed to be positive?” “Who gets to decide what is going to be done with the building?” and “Why haven’t they done anything yet?” The next week, the students grouped these questions together into categories and created three research groups: money, community and history.

The community group learned how to make a documentary film and interviewed teachers about the building. The history group researched historical photographs and conducted interviews. The money group researched the ownership and value of the building, then designed a proposal to redevelop the building. The students presented what they learned to Jannie Blackwell, a City Council representative of West Philadelphia, and held a question-and-answer session with her.

The course demonstrated many positive features discussed earlier in theory and case studies. Students chose what they wanted to learn and produce as a deliverable. The money group students I worked with created a redevelopment plan for the building that divided it into a rec-reation center, gym and shopping center. I taught them how to create a scaled architectural drawing of their ideas, asked them to list locations of competing gyms and shopping centers, and showed them how to research the spatial requirements of their ideas by going to the school gym to measure and draw the equipment. The students directed the decision-making on what they wished to learn and produce while the undergraduates provided their expertise in research to help facilitate this process. Using Hart’s Ladder of Young People’s Participation, the class reached at least the sixth rung — adult initiated, shared decisions with youth.

In many ways, this structure was ideal for encouraging participation because the students received personal attention from the under-graduates, whom they did not perceive as authority figures but rather as group partners. Neil, the teacher, remained in the class to handle discipline problems, though none occurred during our time with the students; the professors helped the undergraduates organize work schedules and provided structure and background in urban studies and educational theory. While it took time for the students to realize they were developing this project for themselves, they were focused and pre-pared when Councilwoman Blackwell visited. The students wanted to

51

made a good impression and create a reputation for their school when Blackwell visited. In this way, the students gradually began to take ownership of their learning, although there is still much further to go in this area. The structure also benefited the undergraduates by making them responsible for ensuring the WPHS students remained focused on their group projects. As a class in education and urban studies, the undergraduates learned about issues of race, class, educational disparity and poverty through their interactions with WPHS students and their supplemental course readings.

The class also benefited from the participation of outside community members. Rick Redding, a City of Philadelphia community planner, was a frequent visitor to the class and gave the project both his deep knowledge of West Philadelphia and a sense of legitimacy. The com-munity group brought in a documentary filmmaker who taught the students how to draw storyboards and organize a documentary film. Blackwell answered many student questions about city government, the issues facing West Philadelphia, and the history of the Croydon building. These outside experts not only provided their knowledge, but also allowed the students to see how their research linked to and was important to the outside world.

The class did face significant challenges, however, that highlight both the difficulty of establishing collaboration and opportunities for improvement. The class faced fundamental problems that any class in WPHS faces: high truancy levels and significant educational barriers, such as unfamiliarity with the Internet and little or no background knowledge of government or urban issues. For example, one entire class period was spent trying to set up e-mail accounts for the students. The truancy issue was exacerbated by the group project structure, because every week a different crew of students would show up to work on the project, making continuity a major problem. Another chal-lenge was incorporating the undergraduates and the Croydon project seamlessly into the class. Because the undergraduate fall semester only lasts until early December, early classes that were wasted on tasks unrelated to the Croydon were frustrating for both the undergraduates and high school students as they established relationships and defined the purpose of their collaboration. The one day per week set-up also posed difficulties, because the undergraduates had difficulty working on the project without the high school students, and the on-campus class materials on non-project days often did not align with the project. Ad-ditionally, the flexible structure of the class gave the students room to pursue their interests, but it was often difficult for the undergraduates to assume the responsibility of planning tasks for each class and keep momentum on the project going.

Despite some hardships, the class was successful in teaching both the students and the undergraduates important lessons. Many students overcame barriers during the semester. For example, they had to defend and justify their proposals to Blackwell, overcome their initial fear of interviewing teachers, and begin to think more broadly about community. As a planner, I learned that the students conceive of urban space very differently than I do. The students had intense block pride, often tagging papers with “60th Street” or “D-Block,” representing their home streets; but they did not view West Philadelphia as any kind of neighborhood. One of the biggest challenges was to stimulate their interest in the Croydon building, because most students did not live near it. One student wondered why he should care about the Croy-

don out of all the many vacant buildings in West Philadelphia. All of the students agreed that what matters to them is their block and its health. I was amazed to learn that the students would not even attend a recreation center in the Croydon if it were built, because it would be an affront to others and could result in getting beat up for stepping foot in a recreation center outside their own small neighborhoods. This was a fundamental insight into a very different method of viewing urban space than I learned in the classroom, and it highlighted the impor-tance of planners seeking out viewpoints from groups they traditionally do not hear from.

It became painfully clear how important education is to overall com-munity health. Much like Geoffrey Canada had realized, I discovered that community development divorced from schools is a kind of triage. Planners can provide job training, affordable housing, and community organizing — but if schools do not succeed, underlying causes of a neighborhood’s poverty and crime will never be addressed. Exposure to the challenges facing inner-city educators would jar planners into thinking broadly about how to incorporate education into community plans.

More broadly, all of the Penn students in the class learned to view WPHS in a different light. Rather than test scores and violence, we saw students who worked hard under the right conditions, devised creative and original ideas, and displayed a strong school pride despite its reputation. The high school students often spoke of how the outside world looked down upon West Philadelphia and were always concerned about showing the world their best face when given the opportunity. The Penn students were challenged to think of how their environments had shaped them.

ConclusionPlanners have much to gain from establishing stronger ties with educa-tion and schools. This collaboration represents a superb alignment of interests; educational reformers are steadily moving toward connect-ing schools to communities, while planners are striving for greater participation and community development. Youth can benefit from opportunities to make meaningful impacts in their communities, teach-ers can benefit from collaborations that bring the real world into their classrooms, schools can benefit from improved student performance and public recognition of student work, and planners can benefit from gaining exposure to different viewpoints that allow them to create plans that better reflect people’s desires.

Planners can play a central role in making these connections, thanks to their unique skills and knowledge of consensus-building, participation and community development. They have a professional duty as part of their Code of Ethics to encourage citizen participation in plan-ning, especially from young people who are generally uninvolved and uninformed but have so much to gain from participation. As Wacker’s Manual proved in Chicago, getting youth involved in planning sets the foundation for a more informed and more active citizenry.

Beyond simple involvement, schools offer a tremendous, untapped resource of energy and social capital for planners struggling with the challenges of inner-city communities. Schools can become vibrant,

PANORAMA 200952

mixed-use community centers that transform declining neighborhoods and attract new development. Furthermore, since many urban prob-lems originate in the schools, a school-centered planning process could assist struggling communities more than traditional planning methods such as economic development, zoning reform and affordable housing development. The combination of school-centered planning and youth participation could become a powerful force for community develop-ment in the future.

ReferencesAmerican Planning Association. AICP Code of Ethics and Professional Conduct. June 1, 1995.

http://www.planning.org/ethics/ethicscode.htm (accessed December 6, 2008).

Arnstein, Sherry R. “A Ladder of Citizen Participation.” Journal of the American Institute of Planning, 1969: 216-224.

Big Picture Learning. Big Picture Learning: About Us - History. 2008. http://www.bigpicture.org/big-picture-history/ (accessed December 9, 2008).

Bromley, Dave. “Lecture on Big Picture Philadelphia.” Philadelphia, September 2008.

Checkoway, Barry. “Involving Young People in Neighborhood Development.” Children and Youth Services Review, 1998: 765-795.

Checkoway, Barry, Kameshwari Pothukuchi, and Janet Finn. “Youth Participation in Community Planning: What Are the Benefits?” Journal of Planning Education and Research, 1992: 134-139.

Concordia, LLC. The New West Philadelphia High School: Community Plan. Plan, Philadelphia: Concordia, LLC, 2006.

Crabbe, Anne E. “The Future Problem Solving Program.” Educational Leadership, September 1989: 27-29.

Davidoff, Paul. “Advocacy and Pluralism in Planning.” In Classic Readings in Urban Planning, by Jay M. Stein, 48-63. New York: McGraw Hill, 1995.

Dubb, Steven, and Ted Howard. Linking Colleges to Communities: Engaging the University for Community Development. College Park, MD: The Democracy Collaborative at the University of Maryland, 2007.

Forrester, John. “Planning in the Face of Power.” In Classic Readings in Urban Planning, by Jay M. Stein, 437-456. New York: McGraw Hill, 1995.

Hamilton, Stephen F., and L. Mickey Fanzel. “The Impact of Volunteer Experience on Adolescent Social Development: Evidence of Program Effects.” Journal of Adolescent Research 3, no. 1 (1988): 65-80.

Hart, Roger A. Children’s Participation: From Tokenism to Citizenship. Innocenti Essay, Florence, Italy: United Nations Children’s Fund, 1997.

Kaufman, Jerome L., and Kenneth C. Newman. “Urban Education: Issues, Reforms, and the Role of Planners.” In Planning and Community Equity, by American Planning Association, 105-138. Chicago: Planners Press, 1994.

Khadduri, Jill, Jennifer Turnham, Anne Chase, and Heather Schwartz. Case Studies Exploring the Potential Relationship Between Schools and Neighborhood Revitalization. Cambridge, MA: ABT Associates, Inc., 2003.

Krumholz, Norman, and John Forrester. “To Be Professionally Effective, Be Politically Articulate.” In Classic Readings in Urban Planning: An Introduction, by Jay M. Stein, 456-468. New York: McGraw Hill, 1995.

Markusen, Ann. “Planning as Craft and as Philosophy.” In The Profession of City Planning: Changes, Images, and Challenges, 1950-2000, by Lloyd Rodwin and Bishwapriya Sanyal, 261-274. Rutgers: Center for Urban Policy Research, 2000.

McKoy, Deborah L., and Jeffrey M. Vincent. “Engaging Schools in Urban Revitalization: The Y-PLAN (Youth-Plan, Learn, Act, Now!).” Journal of Planning Education and Research 26 (2007): 389-403.

Moffat, David. “Designing a City of Learning: Paterson, New Jersey.” Places 15, no. 1 (2002): 30-33.

Spirn, Anne Whiston. “Restoring Mill Creek: Landscape, Literacy, Environmental Justice and City Planning and Design.” Landscape Research 30, no. 3 (2005): 395-413.

Strickland, Roy. “Neighborhoods for Learning.” Places 13, no. 1 (2000): 58-65.

Strickland, Roy. “The City of Learning: Schools as Agents for Urban Revitalization.” In Schools for Cities: Urban Strategies, by Sharon Haar and Mark Robbins, 60-69. Washington: National Endowment for the Arts, 2002.

Susskind, Lawrence. “Planning Practice and Planning Education.” In The Profession of City Planning: Changes, Images, and Challenges, 1950-2000, by Lloyd Rodwin and Bishwapriya Sanyal, 245-252. Rutgers: Center for Urban Policy Research, 2000.

Thomas, June Manning. “Coming Together: Unified Diversity for Social Action.” In Urban Planning and the African American Community: In the Shadows, by June Manning Thomas and Marsha Ritzdorf, 258-280. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications, 1997.

Tough, Paul. “The Harlem Project.” The New York Times Magazine, June 20, 2004.

Vitiello, Dominic. “Re-Forming Schools and Cities: Placing Education on the Landscape of Planning History.” Journal of Planning History 5, no. 3 (August 2006): 183-195.

Wrigley, Jr., Robert L. “The Plan of Chicago.” In Introduction to Planning History in the United States, by Donald A. Krueckeberg, 58-72. Rutgers: Center for Urban Policy Research, 1983.

Yaro, Robert. “Planning Education for an Expanding Civic Sector.” In The Profession of City Planning, by Lloyd Rodwin and Bishwapriya Sanyal, 84-89. New Brunswick: Center for Urban Policy Research, 2000.

53

by ShaRa d. tayloR

Diversity in the City Planning Field

Historically, many city planning decisions, such as the construction of highways and urban renewal initiatives in the 1960s and 1970s, have had detrimental effects on com-munities of color.

According to the United States Census Bureau, racial minority groups accounted for 34 percent of the U.S. population in 2007. The Census Bureau defines racial minori-ties as Hispanic, Black, Asian, American Indian, Native Hawaiian, and Pacific Islander (Roberts, 2008). Projections show that these groups will become the majority by 2042 and are expected to reach 54 percent by 2050. However, the city planning field remains a predominately white profession. Ninety percent of American Planning Association (APA) Regular and New Professional members identified themselves as white in the 2008 Salary Survey conducted by the APA and American Institute of Certified Planners (AICP).

Does the lack of diversity in the city planning field affect the choices that planners make regarding predominately minority neighborhoods? Do planners of color have an added responsibility to ensure that these communities are included in the planning process? What will it take to attract more people of color into the profession? And does the racial composition of urban planners matter at all? This article broaches these topics in race and planning through discussions with students and professors in the University of Pennsylvania’s Department of City and Regional Planning.

PANORAMA 200954

Diversity as a Great EqualizerAlthough “diversity” has become a buzz word in many academic and professional circles over the last 20 years, some city planning students think a great deal of work still remains in the planning field.

“I think that it is critical to confront and discuss issues of race and diversity in our education and practice of city planning, as this is one of the many threads holding together, or driving apart, our cities and places,” says Susanne Fogt, a white first-year city planning student from Washington, D.C. “It is important that we invest in places that encour-age and support a diversity of cultural values and racial backgrounds.”

Michelle Lin, a second-year landscape architecture and city planning student, acknowledges that there has been some progress in the level of diversity awareness among planners. She says, “To the credit of the profession, I think that generally people have a progressive attitude towards racial justice and ideologically want to create a more equitable world.”

Lin, a Taiwanese native who grew up in Atlanta, Ga., wants a more action-oriented agenda implemented among planning professionals.

“I would love to see a more active approach to discussing these issues and even examining each person’s own experience with discrimination, whether it’s with race, gender or some other identity,” Lin says.

If issues of diversity and social inclusion are not brought to the fore-front, the planning field stands to render itself ineffective, according to first-year city planning graduate student and lifelong Philadelphia resident Jeffrey Barg.

“Cities are wild, diverse, colorful places, and if planners don’t reflect the communities they’re serving, our profession is doomed,” Barg says. “Citizen engagement and participation is a huge part of planning, and the first step in that participation is building a sense of trust between planner and citizen.”

Barg, who is white, sees added value in having more planners of color. “That’s not to say that trust can’t happen between people who don’t look like each other, but I think the process is easier when citizens see themselves in the planners they’re working with. I think we’re just hard-wired that way.”

Even though diversity has been a core value of the profession since the 1960s, not all planners who work with communities of color need to share the same skin tone as the residents.

“I wouldn’t say you have to be black or be Latino to understand the concerns that a black or Latino community might have,” observes Laura Wolf-Powers, University of Pennsylvania assistant professor of city planning. “In fact, there are plenty of white planners who are dedicated to representing those communities, but there is a level of trust that can be established with a planner of the same ethnic background.”

Citing historical discrimination as a main cause for the low numbers of minority planners, Wolf-Powers hopes professional organizations will

take the initiative to recruit and retain people from these groups. She says further recruitment will provide access to groups that were once shut out of the field due to societal and political constraints.

However, she cautions against relegating planners of color only to proj-ects or jobs specifically related to race or minority communities.

“Access to the profession doesn’t mean being pigeon-holed into a job where you’re only addressing the concerns of communities of color,” she says. “It should mean being able to be anywhere in the process where your skills and talents are in demand.”

Does Diversity Make a Difference in the Field?“I don’t see how diversity has an impact on the [planning] decisions that are made,” says John Landis, chair of the Department of City and Regional Planning at the University of Pennsylvania. “Maybe you could have made that argument 20 years ago, but I don’t think you can make it today. I would like it to be more diverse so that it can be more demo-cratic and represent the society. It’s not the only thing that’s important, but it is important.”

While planners play a vital role in determining what needs to be done for the well-being of cities, ultimately they don’t control the purse strings or laws, Landis says. Planners push for progressive decision-making and policies, particularly in regards to race and ethnicities, according to him.

“I think the problem is different today. We don’t have enough plan-ners who run for public office and take political leadership roles,” he continues. “If there were more planners who saw themselves as not just public servants, but [also] as elected officials, you would see more issues brought to the forefront.”

As an African-American, first-year city planning student Erika Lindsey feels that she provides a unique voice to discussions about certain com-munities.

“I need to keep challenging the assumptions made about [urban] neigh-borhoods. I have an overwhelming sense of responsibility to offset the current way of thinking,” she says.

In her graduate courses at the University of Pennsylvania, Lindsey, who spent much of her childhood in Union City, Calif., has conversed with classmates who have never had to confront discrimination issues on a personal level.

“If you don’t have to deal with race on a daily basis, you won’t be as cognizant of how race and planning play together,” Lindsey says.

Lack of experience with such issues, she says, could cause planners to make uninformed decisions regarding the needs and concerns of urban minority communities.

“People make decisions based on the information they have. If they are

55

not familiar with urban areas, they may not understand structural racism and could miss the nuanced and blatant issues that come up in plan-ning,” Lindsey explains.

The planning profession is so complicated and eclectic that racial diversity in the field promotes a true diversity of viewpoints needed for success, according to Daniel O’Shaughnessy, a white first-year city planning student from Atlanta, Ga.

“Do I think that planning offices should explicitly be racially diverse, as a matter of policy? Absolutely not. But to the extent that racial or ethnic differences lead to differences in perspective or ideas, they are fundamental to the success of the positive change that planning seeks to foster,” he says.

Landis offers a different perspective on where change begins in the planning process.

“Will the grassroots be better if we have more diversity? That should be the question. I think there’s some evidence that might be the case,” he says. The field has become more participatory over the last 20 years, and that has caused planners to listen more and engage citizens at the grassroots level. “On the other side, in terms of social and economic opportunities, the planning field has largely retreated from those issues. How do we provide those opportunities?”

Even though the city planning department has scheduled courses that address equity issues, the classes tend not to generate much interest among students and get cancelled as a result. “Students talk with their feet,” Landis says.

Do Planners of Color Have an Additional Responsibility to Communities of Color?“All planners, whether [they are] of color or not, have an additional responsibility to communities of color. So much of U.S. urban policy

has overtly harmed minori-ties in cities that a great deal of what we do is just trying to undo those years of inequality,” says Barg.

Indeed, in the early 1900s, cities across the United States enacted zoning laws that restricted where African Americans and other racial minority groups could live. Christopher Silver traces the earliest comprehen-sive racial zoning ordinance to Baltimore, Md. Created by Baltimore attorney Milton Dashiel and supported by the city’s mayor, J. Barry Mahool, the ordinance became law on Dec. 20, 1910, and banished African-American residents to some of the worst areas of the city (Manning, 1997, p. 27).

Mayor Mahool held the view that “Blacks should be quar-antined in isolated slums in order to reduce the incidents of civil disturbance, to prevent the spread of communicable disease into the nearby White neighbor-hoods, and to protect property values among the White major-ity” (Manning, 1997, p. 27).

In the years after Baltimore’s implementation of its racial zoning law, cities such as Richmond and Norfolk in Va.; Atlanta, Ga.; Greenville, S.C.; Birmingham, Ala.; and Louis-

ville, Ky., followed suit (Manning, 1997, p. 27).

These types of laws persisted throughout the early and middle 20th Century. In the 1950s and 1960s, Congress attempted to combat the effects of racial zoning by passing a series of civil rights laws that were intended to give equal opportunities to all U.S. citizens. However, many white residents remained resistant to the federal government’s attempt to push social integration at the local level (Manning, 1997, p. 94).

Danae Tilghman, who is African-American and a native of Woodbury Heights, N.J., credits her experience with Teach for America in Houston as the catalyst behind her pursuit of a city planning degree.

“It was my background in education that inspired me to be a planner,” says Tilghman, a first-year graduate student at the University of Penn-

Professors in planning. Assistant professor Laura Wolf-Powers and department chair John Landis believe that diversity is important in the field of city planning.

PANORAMA 200956

sylvania. “I saw children who were expected to perform on the same levels as their affluent peers, but didn’t have a safe place to sleep or a meal the night before. That type of inequity showed me that although planning can’t solve all our social ills, it sure is a starting point.”

Like Lindsey, Tilghman wants to use her planning education to shed light on the issues that disproportionately affect communities of color.

“The reason I entered this profession was to serve the people that look like me, but weren’t afforded the same opportunities. The communities our parents grew up in faced similar struggles of poverty and other is-sues, but were able to survive because of a ‘village’ mentality that made them accountable for one another,” she says. “As our society becomes more individualized, and that spirit disappears, it makes our responsi-bility even greater.”

Coming from a particular ethnic background should not place addition-al demands on a planner, says O’Shaughnessy.

“I think that, in many cases, growing up in certain ethnic communi-ties gives you a unique view of what its needs are and how they can be addressed. To that end, blacks who grew up in black communities have both a responsibility and a distinct advantage in planning projects in those communities,” he says.

“But I don’t think that being black, in itself, changes the responsibility of all planners to be sensitive to community needs and desires, his-tory, and the environment. I could understand feeling more pressure to succeed in communities that look like you, but I don’t think there should, realistically, be any higher expectations of people of color than of anyone else.”

Despite the unique perspective a person may bring to their job, it is not a guarantee that decisions that have a positive impact on minority com-munities will be made.

“I think that people of color have a unique perspective to offer the plan-ning profession, which has largely been dominated by educated white men. With that said, one cannot assume that just because you are a person of color, you will necessarily act in the interest of a larger com-munity,” Lin notes. “For example, there are many instances that people of color have been elected or appointed to public office and have acted against the interest of their community.”

Lack of Awareness Remains about City Planning as a ProfessionPerhaps the largest hindrance to more underrepresented groups entering the urban planning field lies in the field’s relative obscurity in mainstream society. The majority of people know what lawyers, social workers, and architects do, but city planners remain a mystery to many.

This lack of visibility, says Lindsey, can cause prospective students to overlook planning as a viable career option. “I didn’t know until my ju-nior year of college that I wanted to be a planner because I didn’t know it was a profession. For people who don’t have access to college, when

are they supposed to find out about it?”

Lindsey credits her involvement with the Public Policy & International Affairs Fellowship Program (PPIA) while an undergraduate student as a turning point in her career goals. On its website, PPIA states that it fo-cuses “on students from groups who are underrepresented in leadership positions in government, nonprofits, international organizations, and other institutional settings” (http://www.ppiaprogram.org).

Through this program, Lindsey says, the organization reached students who would not necessarily have considered public policy as a career choice. She says that it also created a great support network among the participants. Implementing a large program such as PPIA at the high school and college levels could boost interest among minority students, Lindsey suggests.

Amy Hillier, an assistant professor of city and regional planning at the University of Pennsylvania, has worked with African-American high school children in Philadelphia to raise awareness of the profession. She notes that most of the children understood the purpose of an architect or social worker because many of them had had some level of exposure to someone in that field. However, nearly all of them had no response when asked about the job of a city planner.

“Kids who grow up in the city don’t have a sense they can change their neighborhood, and that’s what planning is about—a sense of owner-ship,” says Hillier, who also serves as the faculty advisor for the Black Student Alliance (BSA) in the University of Pennsylvania School of Design. “Community development is the heart of [planning]. How do you make urban communities good places to live?”

If students understand that decisions in planning can improve the quality of life in their neighborhoods, they may begin to view it as an impactful profession that would allow them to enhance their own com-munities.

In addition to lack of knowledge about the field, Hillier sees a large gap between the cost of an education and the financial needs of students, especially for students of color. Considering the gap in income and wealth that exists between whites and people of color, she thinks the level of debt necessary to cover a graduate education could be more problematic for students whose parents have fewer economic resources.

However, even when schools provide financial assistance to students of color, the pool of applicants remains small, explains Landis. In Fall 2008 at the University of Pennsylvania School of Design, black U.S. citizens accounted for approximately 6 percent of 126 students in their first or second year of the Master of City Planning program. Hispanics comprised 2 percent of the department, while Asians/Pacific Islanders represented 9 percent of the students, according to the school.

Landis says that public universities have strict legal limits as to how they may distribute fellowships and scholarships to minority students. To remain in compliance with federal and state civil rights laws, institu-tions that receive public funding cannot select financial aid recipients based solely on race or ethnicity. However, private universities do not experience the same restrictions, so it remains unclear why these

57

schools do not do a better job of attracting students of color.

As a result, there are few African-American and Latino students who can pursue a Ph.D. in city planning, which creates a lack of available professors of color for regular faculty positions, according to Landis. There are no full-time faculty members of color in the University of Pennsylvania’s Department of City Planning. However, Landis sees opportunity for adjunct faculty positions, which tend to have less strin-gent educational requirements.

The Role of Individual ResponsibilityStudent-based organizations like the Black Student Alliance (BSA) in the University of Pennsylvania School of Design have made it their mission to address issues that disproportionately affect minority com-munities. The BSA’s two signature events, “Demystifying the Design Professions” in the fall and the “Unspoken Borders” Conference in the spring, are intended to expose students and community members to urban planning and design issues that often do not receive much atten-tion in the classroom.

“An organization like the BSA is necessary in order to help students of color voice their needs and concerns, and work together to form a sup-port system for the students within the school,” says Nakita Johnson, co-coordinator for Unspoken Borders. “Unfortunately, there are still many stereotypes and inequalities that exist in academia that require such systems to be in place...We’ve received fantastic responses and support from the majority of the students and faculty members that attend our events, especially the [Unspoken Borders] conference. Some of the negative responses we’ve received seemed to come more out of ignorance than malice.”

Johnson explains that all minority groups have valid concerns, but each group has its own unique set of issues that need to be addressed separately. If all of the groups attempted to tackle these problems as a single unit, each group would not benefit equally.

Riziki House, who also co-coordinates Unspoken Borders, has been asked about the perceived exclusive nature of the BSA’s activities and meetings. “The answer is always ‘no.’ Everyone is welcome. However, some things are catered to black students’ interests and concerns.”

In addition, she says, “[Some] people are hesitant to discuss anything potentially culturally sensitive or perceptively divisive.”

Nevertheless, not all hope is lost in the quest for a more representative planning profession. “We tend to fall back on excuses such as the pools [of applicants] are not big enough or there are not enough [people of color] applying. All of that is true, but it ends up being a rationalization for not doing more,” Landis says. “Sometimes, we say that’s all we can do because it’s pre-ordained, but that’s not true. We need to look at ourselves and ask what we’re doing individually.”

ConclusionAs the United States minority populations continue to grow, the discussion about diversity likely will remain at the forefront of the city planning profession. Perspectives regarding ways to increase the inclusion of underrepresented groups in the field vary as widely as the groups planners serve. Perhaps the solutions to these tough questions lie in the ability of planners and citizens to reconcile their differ-ent viewpoints for the betterment of their respective communities. Otherwise, the conversation may not move past the rhetorical phase, leaving people to wonder if city planners actually value racial and ethnic diversity in a field that affects people of all colors and backgrounds.

ReferencesRoberts, Sam. “In a Generation, Minorities May Be the U.S. Majority.” Washington Post (New

York Edition), Page A1, August 14, 2008.

Thomas, June Manning, and Ritzdorf, Marsha, eds. Urban Planning and the African Community. (Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage Publications), 1997.

PANORAMA 200958

by Wm. Stephen Scott

The Ideal Soviet SuburbSocial Change Through Urban Design

Facing rapid industrialization, urbanization and a social revolution, Soviet intellectu-als in the early years of the Soviet Union (1917-1930) rushed to work imagining what the ideal communist city would look like. This burst of artistic output from the far left, known as the Constructivist movement, was multidisciplinary. Not only were architects and bureaucrats theorizing about ideal cities, but so, too, were painters, poets, writers, graphic designers, photographers, and product designers. Although the general spirit was to decentralize and move away from the central core city, theorists proposed vari-ous methods. This paper will explore four specific variants: the linear city, the Urbanist super-commune, the Disurbanist mobile city, and the postwar new urban settlement. Though few Constructivist proposals were realized, save for some isolated buildings, the movement’s ideals concerning the city offer a fascinating glimpse at a suburban dream alien to the American perspective.

The decentralization of cities and spread of development into the urban periphery is a phenomenon seen across the world. Even earlier than Ebenezer Howard’s Garden City in 1898, architects, planners, philanthropists, and visionaries felt compelled to reverse urban agglomeration in cities (Batchlor, 1969; Collins, 1959). They wanted to expand urbanity into the countryside, while reducing crowding and congestion within the city.

During the late 1920s in Russia, this debate played out between two major schools of thought: the so-called “Urbanists” and “Disurbanists.” Both groups advocated suburban-ization. The Urbanists, led by theorist L. Sabsovich, argued for self-contained super-communes located in the countryside. The Disurbanists, led by Mikhail Okhitovich, went further. Using an electrical and communication grid that would cross the entire nation, and mobile homes, they sought to scatter single-family homes across the coun-tryside. Although this debate was lively, both Urbanists and Disurbanists sought to eliminate urban agglomeration in central cities and to create new, self-sufficient settle-ments containing fewer than 50, 20, or even three residents (Kopp 1970, pp. 168-17).

Figure 1. Garden City plan by Boris Sakulin (1918).

59

Four ideological themes drove Constructivist ideas. The first was a radical form of feminism that sought to revolutionize family patterns. Concerned that women were treated unequally, Soviet idealists wanted to reform the home, reduce women’s workloads, remove children from the household, and liberalize marriage into a completely voluntary and open arrangement between individuals. A second theme posited that leisure time socialist citizens would attend cultural institutions, centered on the workers’ club. These uniquely communist institutions would be the heart of neighborhood plans. A third theme was the idea of the “social condenser,” which would use architecture to limit private life within the single-family home and instead encourage collective so-cialization and participation in activities. The last theme was the desire to bring the city to the countryside, spreading work and communist ideology into the hinterland. These tropes can be found in all the plans.

Soviet Garden CitiesAs with other planners of the period, Soviet Urbanists were enamored with Ebenezer Howard’s Garden City principles (Miliyutin, 1974; Talfuri, 1987). Howard called for the creation of autonomous new settlements far from the metropolitan area to increase the amount of green space, decrease the distance from home to work, reduce crowding in the inner city, and bring urban amenities to the countryside. The Soviets were particularly interested in Howard’s idea that the Garden City was to be a small, communal place, where the municipality would collectively own property.

The Garden City, an idea that flourished in the capitalist West, could also be interpreted as a starting point for an ideal Soviet suburb. One can see the Garden City concept in early Soviet plans. Boris Sakulin’s 1918 plan (Figure 1) depicts a system of three concentric radial high-ways with a string of satellite cities along the arterials. His plan was intended to reduce congestion in Moscow by spreading development to the urban periphery (Khan-Magomedov, 1987).

Another plan (Figures 2 & 3) by M. Shirov in 1929 shows a central city divided into three green belts: a cultural and sports belt in the urban core, a pedestrian walkway midway from the city center, and outer agricultural and industrial belts (Kopp, 1970). This plan shows other aspects of the Garden City idea: the desire to reduce density, increase green space, and push development beyond the center city into lower-density nodes on the periphery.

In Constructivist literature, writers proposed more radical forms of suburbanization, or rather de-urbanization. In the economist Alexan-der Chaianov’s 1920 novel, Journey of My Brother Alexei to the Land of the Peasant Utopia, he imagined that by 1934 all cities with a popula-tion over 20,000 would be demolished. Instead of cities, the city and agricultural functions would intermingle, in a continuous countryside, with the former central city converted into parkland (Beaujour, 1983).

The primary idea behind the Garden City movement was the belief that urbanity itself was obsolete. Communist planners believed that urban agglomeration was caused by a capitalist need for producers to be near markets. By abolishing private property, they thought, agglomeration was no longer necessary. Nikolai Miliutin, a Soviet planner of the era, captured this idea when he noted:

“The question of restricted land for big cities is inapplicable here since we

have destroyed private ownership of land. Any ideas about the necessity

for maximum (more rational) use of “communally serviceable” areas is

simply comical, since no such areas exist here. But more important is the

tremendous problem of the elimination of the differences between the city

and the country. This is why we must review the meaning of the word

“city”. The modern city is a product of a mercantile society and will die

together with it, merging into the socialized countryside.”

Miliutin, 1974

The Linear City: An Old Idea RediscoveredSixteen years before Ebenezer Howard’s seminal book To-morrow, Ar-turo Soria y Mata invented what he called the “linear city.” His idea was to develop residential and commercial units along tramways, bringing development into the open countryside (Soria Y Mata, 1984). Although Figure 2. Plan view of a Soviet Garden City deigned by M. Shirov in 1929.

Figure 3. Shirov’s sketch of a Garden City.

PANORAMA 200960

Soria’s idea gained some popularity, it was quickly overshadowed by Howard’s nodal Garden City proposal.

Miliutin revisited Soria y Mata’s linear city idea near the end of the Constructivist era in 1930 in his book Sotsgorod: The Problem of Building Socialist Cities (Miliutin, 1974). Sotsgorod is peppered with quotes from Lenin and Marx, showing the emergence of Marxist dogmatism under Stalin. By this time, Stalin’s First Five Year Plan had ramped up industrial production, which created demand for new industrial facili-ties and towns far removed from the central city. After 1928, many new industrial towns sprouted, including Magnitogorsk, Dzerzhinsk, Berezniki, Khibonogorsk, Komsomol’ska-na-Amure, and Karagada (Kopp, 1970).

Figure 4 shows Miliutin’s proposal for the Nizhninovgorod auto plant. He improves upon Soria’s linear city by including the workplace along with the residential units. Industrial areas are located along a railway, providing access to the factory and creating a linear assembly line. A greenbelt separates the industry from the residential areas, which in-clude the communal dining halls and workers’ clubs as well as housing. Past the residential zone is a park, with wilderness beyond. The advan-tage of the linear city concept was that all aspects of daily life—work, transportation, open space, and living areas—are all located within

walking distance, with adequate buffering in between. However, there was a lack of retail services, such as restaurants and clothing shops. This failure to plan for personal consumption pervades Soviet plans. However, Miliutin’s plan is still one of the more reasonable Soviet plans of the era. In connecting residential units to industrial complexes, his vision of disagglomeration seems viable.

A New Urbanism: The Super-CommuneOne way to bring the city into the country is to create self-sufficient super-communes. Like a ship, these large communes would contain all the functions necessary to be self-sufficient. These communes were the ultimate “social condenser.” By minimizing personal space and maxi-mizing communal space, Soviet architects forced individuals out of the single-family unit. Units lacked personal kitchens, living rooms, and showers. A unit’s total area was as small as 27 square meters (Kopp, 1970). Like a dormitory, everyone used the space collectively.

As architecture compelled collectivization, it deliberately broke down the family unit. Women were liberated from the drudgery of house-

keeping and parenting by having the state communally raise children from a young age. The children would be raised in separate boarding schools located within the overall commune. In these communes, without children the institution of marriage would wither away and be replaced with free-love relationships: in housing units, a sliding parti-tion opened to allow couples to be together, and in cases of divorce, the doors could be shut again (Kopp, 1970).

By forcing family life into communal space, new types of structures must be accounted for: workers’ clubs, dining halls, collective laundro-mats, and boarding schools. Thus in these immense collective com-munes, all elements of daily life would be found within the housing unit structure, with the industrial workplace nearby. Self-contained and self-sufficient, these super-communes could be placed anywhere, allow-ing residents to leave the city and colonize the countryside.

Mobile Cities of the FutureIf transportation, electricity, and communication are omnipresent, why agglomerate at all? Could not every individual live autonomously? And if a citizen can live autonomously, why stay in one place? With rapid economic change, architects foresaw the need to move the population around the country for economic reasons and freedom of mobility. These were the opinions of the radical Disurbanists, who called for the complete abolition of cities. They suggested replacing them with floating cities, mobile homes, and clusters of glass cubicles, roaming the countryside and forming spontaneous settlements.

The key feature of the disurbanist vision is mobility. Quoting Okhi-tovich, the founder of Disurbanist theory:

“No, let us be frank: communal houses, those enormous, heavy, monu-

mental, everlasting colossi, permanently encumbering the landscape, will

not solve the problem of socialist resettlement. Prefabricated houses!

No matter if the first ones are not a success. How fortunate that they

can be dismantled as easily as they are assembled; no one will object if

husband and wife or two close friends or even a group of friends built

their individual homes side by side, combine them into a single block; each

unit will always remain private, with its own entrance and access to the

garden. But if there is a falling out, if a friend quarrels with friend or if

one of them marries, there will be no problems with “living space” since

at any time the units can be separated, made bigger or smaller, or even

dismantled and rebuilt in a completely different spot.”

Kopp, 1970

Note also the recurring theme of modularity: the adding and subtract-ing of components to accommodate fluid family situations. Flexible architecture was part and parcel of the Constructivist push to liberalize family relations, making marriage less obligatory and divorce as pain-less as possible.

The accomplished architect Moses Ginzburg’s Green City Plan (1930) is essentially a linear city layout that embraced a Disurbanist vision of mobility (Kopp, 1970). The state would grant each homesteader a lightweight, prefabricated house. These homes could be freely arranged and combined: single individuals could live in a unit, or units can be

Figure 4. Miliutin’s auto plant proposal.

61

combined to form family clusters (Figure 5). They could be strung along highways, clustered around community centers, or wherever there was access by rail, automobile, or airplane.

The Constructivist poet Velimir Khlebnikov went one step further. He imagined the home as a glass box. The box would have anchor points on it so it could be attached to a train, hoisted into the air by crane or zeppelin, or strung along a cable like beads on a string. People would travel throughout the Soviet Union in their glass boxes, living in clus-ters wherever they desired. They didn’t even need to own clothing — it would be provided by the commune in charge of the cluster (Khleb-nikov, 1985).

In another Disurbanist vision, writer Nicoli Aseev wrote a story called “Tomorrow” in the main Constructivist Journal LEF in 1923 (Beau-jour, 1983). In this story the city itself is mobile, floating across the countryside with the aid of a magnetic levitation. Once again, Moscow is abandoned and converted into a park.

Before we write-off the Disurbanist visions as absurd, we must under-stand the context. Technological progress in the West — such as the bi-plane and the Model T — coincided with rapid industrialization in the Soviet Union and burgeoning creativity in the Constructivist scene. And we must consider the motor home, the trailer home, private commuter jets, and other innovations that have since come to pass. In a way, their proposals are not so radical. The idea wasn’t so much that houses did not agglomerate, but that any agglomerations were fluid. As the workforce moved, the home would follow. And with modern transportation, the home could travel, by rail, truck, ship or zeppelin to any destination on the planet.

The Ideal Soviet Suburb: The New Urban SettlementAll the previous suburban visions took place in the pre-Stalin era. Un-der Stalin, urban planning entered a dark age with the advent of Social-ist Realism, and modernist design was forbidden (Kopp, 1970). After Kruschev‘s rebuke of Stalin in 1956, there was an intellectual thaw; in the late 1950s, a group of Moscow University intellectuals led by Alexei Gutnov wrote The Ideal Communist City (Gutnov et. al., 1968).

In this book they reaffirm many of the prewar principles: collectivized lifestyle, reform of family patterns, and decentralization. They also dis-cuss the role of leisure time and how citizens can use their free time to cultivate themselves and to study (Gutnov et. al., 1968). They continue the Constructivist urban project: creating collectivized institutions and workers’ clubs in the suburbs to cultivate a new socialist man.

Gutnov’s plan for the New Urban Settlement is one of the most detailed site plans that represents socialist ideals (Figure 6). On the north and the west sides of the site plan are high-density communal housing blocks. Inside each housing block families live apart, with children in dormitories downstairs and parents upstairs. The northwest corner in-cludes the schools, with the southeast corner holding the workers’ clubs and dining halls. Within this superblock, pedestrian travel predomi-nates; trains and freeways are confined to the periphery, defining the superblock’s boundaries. A circular tramway allows residents to travel between superblocks, connects the settlement to quadrants off the map, and provides a path to mass transit stations and parking lots. The most remarkable aspect of this site plan is that everyone is in walking or tramway distance from school, community centers, residential areas, and transit nodes. It is a residential suburb without auto dependency.

But unlike previous plans, the New Urban Settlement makes no at-tempt to connect the residential area to industrial worksites. Instead, automation is the new technique that allows workers to work near home, yet control vast industrial complexes beyond the city limits. The suburban vision is modified, less radical than the Constructivist prede-cessors. Gutnov and his colleagues moved away from thinking of the neighborhood as a completely self-sufficient unit, instead considering it a semi-dependent suburb. It contains most daily amenities within

Figure 5. Moses Ginzburg’s prefabricated housing units.

Figure 6. Alexei Gutnov’s New Urban Settlement plan.

PANORAMA 200962

walking distance, but is dependent upon a central city for employ-ment—more in line with Western new towns and master-planned communities of the time.

ConclusionIn truth there is not one, but at least two iconic types of twentieth-century neighborhood: the single-family subdivision and the multi-family superblock. While the former dominated much of the West, the latter are found across the world, in Brazil, Japan, China, France, Britain, former Soviet Bloc countries, and even in the United States. These developments are pedestrian-oriented, often centered on a school or community center, and were designed to create self-contained neighborhood units. They are also big, sometimes housing hundreds to thousands of residents. While not all such modernist superblocks were designed by Soviets, or even communists, these groups were innovators in the modernist movement, and the most committed to advancing social change through urban design.

Perhaps the best way, then, to reveal the nature of the ideal Soviet suburb is to contrast it against Western ideals. One point of contrast is the modes of transit. With abundant transportation, urbanists in the East and West believed that housing could be built far from center cities on virgin land. Soviet planners and architects tended to favor rail, like the British and Japanese, rather than the automobile as in the United States, but transportation was what made suburbanization possible. But unlike American planners, who sought to segregate housing from the workplace, many Soviets throughout the Constructivist era sought to locate residents within walking distance of cultural and employ-ment opportunities (although some, like the Disurbanists, called for complete transit dependence). Less like Le Corbusier and more like Ebenezer Howard, the Soviets tried to create self-contained new towns beyond the central city, rather than segregate residential, commercial, industrial, and cultural uses.

Another difference is the home itself. The Western single-family home is a self-contained unit — a place to put purchased goods, to cook, to entertain guests, to raise children. Soviet plans deliberately attempted to prevent this bourgeois lifestyle by reducing the amount of personal space and offloading previously private functions into the public realm. Collectivization required new collective entities: dining halls, laundro-mats, boarding schools, and open space were included in Soviet plans to a greater extent than in the West. Collectivization also implied clus-tered, high-density residential quarters, while in the West the stand-alone home was the ideal. Naturally, Soviets planned fewer churches, shopping districts, and private lawns, reflecting the fundamental differ-ence between the ideal Soviet communal lifestyle and Western customs.

For all their faults, though, the Soviets’ collective housing schemes did offer an alternative ideal of suburban living. The Soviet plans all show

strong pedestrian connections between the home and civic institutions such as schools, hospitals and community centers. Additionally, the Soviet suburb is transit-oriented, with each new community designed with rail access. These suburbs were also planned for residential den-sity, concentrating a critical mass of residents in a small area. Interest-ingly, these three ideas are all experiencing a renaissance in Western planning. Designs featuring pedestrian accessibility, transit connec-tions and higher-density concentrations are now widely sought in the West — this time not to flee the city, but rather to improve its integrat-ed systems. While communist ideas are unlikely to gain favor in the West, its future urban development may exhibit more in common with the Soviet Constructionists and their pedestrian- and transit-oriented communes than the traditional Western suburban ideal.

While one may think of communism as a political and economic sys-tem, it was also a culture. To the Constructivists and their successors, their architecture and city planning designs not only symbolized the Soviet Revolution, but also were a tool to further the communist social agenda of liberalizing the household, collectively sharing goods, and cultivating individuals through cultural institutions, making rapid eco-nomic growth possible. Thus the Soviet suburb was designed to change human social structures through architecture and design. But the overriding vision of allowing individuals to escape crowded cities and travel into the hinterland — the dream of suburbia — is not unique to the Soviets. This is a vision that persisted throughout the modern era as planners across the world strove to transcend the centripetal forces of urban agglomeration.

ReferencesBeaujour, Elizabeth Klosty. “Architectural Discourse and Early Soviet Literature.” The

Journal of the History of Ideas, 44(3) (Jul.-Sep. 1983), pp. 477-495.

Batchelor, Peter. “The Origin of the Garden City Concept of Urban Form.” The Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians, 28(3) (Oct. 1969), pp. 184-200.

Collins, George R. “The Ciudad Lineal of Madrid”. The Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians, 18(2) (May, 1959), pp. 38-53.

Gutnov et. al. The Ideal Communist City. (New York: Brazillier), 1970.

Howard, Ebenezer. Garden Cities of To-Morrow. (Cambridge: MIT Press), 1965.

Khan-Magomedov, Selim O. Pioneers of Soviet Architecture. (New York: Rizzoli), 1987.

Khoehler, KAren. Kandinsky’s “Kleine Welten” and Utopian City Plans. The Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians, 57(4), (1998), pp. 432-447.

Kopp, Anatole. Town and Revolution: Soviet architecture and city planning 1917-1935. Translated by Thomas E. Burton. (New York: Braziller), 1970.

Khlebnikov, Velimir. The King of Time: Selected writings of the Russian futurian. Translated by Paul Schmidt. (USA: Harvard University Press), 1990.

Miliutin, Nikolai. Sotsgorod: The problem of building socialist cities. Translated by Arthur Sprague. (Cambridge: MIT Press), 1974.

Soria Y Mata. La Cité Linéaire: Nouvelle Architecture De Villes. Paris: Ecole Nationale Supérieure des Beaux-Arts, 1984.

Talfuri, Manfredo. “Toward the Socialist City.” In The Sphere and the Labrynth (Cambridge: MIT Press) 1987.

63

IMAge CItAtIONs

Cover Skyline illustration By lou Huang

6 Congested highway PHoto By atwater Village newBie http://www.flickr.com/photos/68076636@N00/842866223/

Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 2.0 Generic license

7 Upstream stream job creation By JoHn s. irons

8 Social impact versus system deployment By william l. garrison and daVid m. leVinson

9 Evaluated toll and recommended free highway system maps, recommended highway system – 1944 map

By u.s Bureau of PuBlic roads

10 Chart of expected economic impact of interregional highway build-out and map of designated interstate highways in 1955

By u.s Bureau of PuBlic roads

12 Stacked Hands illustration By tina cHang Adapted from Health and Human Services photo found at:

http://www.hhs.gov/healthit/documents/m20070612/framework_files/images/image1.png

13 Pie-chart of slum population By tina cHang

17 Gas price sign PHoto By lawrence l. gilBert http://www.flickr.com/photos/29856334@N00/2514767818/

Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic license

22 Sign of the Times - Foreclosure PHoto By resPres http://www.flickr.com/photos/40518938@N00/2539334956/ Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license

27 Open field PHoto By domenic Vitiello

34–36 Diagrams of Mexico City metro, New York metro and Tokyo metros

By linda meckel

39 Dutch Dialogues conference PHoto By JoHn reinHardt

40 CPLN studio in Amsterdam PHoto from cPln studio

41 Tour of pumps in New Orleans PHoto By JoHn reinHardt

42 Presentation of research PHoto from cPln studio

43 Sketching alternatives PHoto By JoHn reinHardt

44 Work to develop alternatives for Claiborne Avenue PHoto By JoHn reinHardt

45 Croydon Building http://www.lcpimages.org/inventories/jennings/aptbldgs/aptbldgs.htm

53 Students working PHoto By lou Huang

55 Profs. Wolf-Powers and Landis PHoto By lou Huang

58 Garden City plan By Boris sakulin From Selim O. Khan-Magomedov. Pioneers of Soviet Architecture.

59 Soviet Garden City and sketch of a Garden City By m. sHiroV From Anatole Kopp. Town and Revolution:

Soviet architecture and city planning 1917-1935.

60 Miliutin’s auto plant proposal By nikolai miliutin

61 Ginzburg’s prefabricated housing units By moses ginzBurg From Alexei Gutnov et al., The Ideal Communist City

61 Gutnov’s New Urban settlement plan By alexei gutnoV

PANORAMA 200964

P a n o r a m a

journal of the city and regional planning department at the university of pennsylvania spring 2009

2009P

AN

OR

AM

ATH

E FULC

RUM

OF C

HA

NG

E