A Path Not Taken

BY ALEX MARSHALL
COVER STORY
PORT FOLIO MAGAZINE

Sometimes I like to mull over the choices we have taken as a region and then, in a masochistic mood, try to pick the absolutely worst one, savoring the special flavor of failed dreams and paths not taken.

My personal favorite for all-time blooper is Virginia Beach, Chesapeake and Suffolk opting to split off in the 1960s into mega land-area cities and cut off Norfolk’s expansion. In one fell swoop, we separated rich fro poor, city from suburb, growth from decay, and thus insured that it would be vastly more difficult to tackle common problems and challenges together. We built a political fence through our common garden.

But vying for second place is the decision made 30 years ago not to build a big regional airport out in Chesapeake.

For you see, Norfolk was not doomed to have a tiny airport with terrible service. From 1968 to the early 70s, a debate bubbled across the region. It was clear the old Norfolk airport was outmoded. What should be done?

As Norfolk prepared to expand the old airport off Military Highway, a vocal lobby emerged, saying no, that was the wrong decision. They advocated building a new and larger airport out in Chesapeake or Suffolk that would serve both sides of the water, and position the region to capture more business growth.

It didn’t happen. Despite accumulating voices, Norfolk, recently burned by its suburban neighbors over annexation, stuck to its guns. If needed, we can move the airport later, its leaders said. That didn’t happen. We missed a chance, and it never came again.

This was a crucial decision. With different choices and some luck, we could have had a large regional airport just a short drive from downtown, with direct jet service to New York and other major cities. Our economic development would have been ratcheted up a notch, as we played with the Charlottes and the Clevelands, rather than the Winston-Salems and Lexingtons.

What more, if the region had managed to cooperate to finance and build a big regional airport, the Southside would have been knitted to the Peninsula and the region made one in more than name. Cooperating on an airport might have set the stage for joining together on universities, roads, stadiums, and things like tackling poverty and crime.

Even the very culture of the area might have changed because new ideas and people would have more easily come into our region.

But that didn’t happen. Norfolk expanded its small airport, Newport News eventually expanded Patrick Henry, and the region was stuck with two small airports without a lot of market power.

“It really cast us inexorably in being a second-rate community,” said businessman and community leader Andrew Fine.

“Hindsight is 20-20, but I’d be surprised if anyone didn’t think that wouldn’t have been a better approach,” said George Crawley, a member of the Norfolk Airport Authority and former assistant city manager of Norfolk. “That might have been the piece that solidified us as a region.”

The airport story shows how our fragmentation as a region probably directly hurt our future. Although this is often said, rarely do you see it so clearly as in the tale of a big airport not built.

Somewhere, Hunter Hogan, that wiley, Yoda-like real-estate salesman, is smiling, his grin and voice triumphantly saying “I told you so.”

For it was Hogan that resolutely pushed to build a regional airport outside of Norfolk proper that would serve both the Southside and Peninsula. True, he no doubt would have somehow made a lot of money off of it. Hogan, one of the founders of Goodman-Segar-Hogan, was an excellent businessman. But he also spoke repeatedly about the long-term health of the area.

“Norfolk is being sold short; the whole Tidewater community is being sold short because we are not being far-sighted enough,” Hogan said in 1969. He would keep saying this over the next few years.

The site Hogan and his allies were pushing was on the edge of the Dismal swamp in Chesapeake. {SEE LOCATOR MAP?} Roughly at the apex of a triangle, it would be easy to access to from both sides of the water. It would be close enough from the Norfolk downtown– 12 miles — to be reached easily, but far enough out to handle larger planes and future growth.

Twelve miles from downtown. It’s funny how far that seemed to people at the time. Now, new airports are built more than 30 miles outside town. The new Denver airport is a 45 minute drive from the center city.

Hogan’s plan and site had difficulties.

There were questions even in those environmentally-unaware days about building in or near a swamp. It unquestionably would not be allowed today.

James Crumbley, 77, executive director of the airport at the time and former head of Virginia International Terminals, said he and a group traveled out to the proposed site when it was under consideration.

“We went down there one day, and we broke off a big limb, and you could push it 5 feet into the ground,” Crumbley said. “You would have had to pile all the runways.”

Of course, Hogan insisted that the Dismal Swamp site was just one option. After all, Chesapeake, which is now covered with subdivisions, was then mostly open fields.

Crumbley defends the decision to keep the old airport site. There was no guarantee that we would have captured more traffic with a bigger airport, he says. Coastal cities like Hampton Roads are rarely chosen as hubs because planes cannot draw traffic from all sides, he said.

Roy B. Martin Jr., who was mayor at the time and opposed moving the airport, said finances, location and future usage all pointed away from a new regional airport.

“Who would have built it?” Martin asked in a recent interview. “Where would the money have come from? You weren’t talking $20 million. I think the idea was good, but there was no highways there. The state wasn’t going to help.

“None of the other cities came to the table and said OLet’s go do it.’ I never remember a push to move the airport” by the other cities.

Perhaps, but the record seems to show otherwise. Elected officials and community leaders from all the surrounding cities were reported voicing support for an expanded regional airport. Virginia Beach Councilman Lawrence E. Marshall was quoted in The Virginian-Pilot saying, “We should look beyond 20 years and invest in a tremendously large international airport.” Chesapeake Mayor G. A. Treakle came out in favor of it. Even one of Norfolk senators, Peter K. Babalas, urged then Gov. Linwood Holton to use “benevolent authority to force Southeastern Virginia localities to accept creation of regional airport.”

And sure, a $50 million to $100 million new airport — which was the figures loosely thrown around — would have been difficult to finance. But one of the advocates of a new airport was Edwin MacKethan, a trust officer for Virginian National Bank and more importantly, the guy who helped set up the bond issues for the $200 million Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel. If the guy who financed the bridge tunnel was on board, maybe financing a regional airport was not out of the question.

Other groups came out against the old airport. Pilots said it was too close to existing schools, like Azalea Garden and Landsdale Elementary. Landing at the airport required a steep angle of descent that was not optimal. They urged a new airport be built farther out.

Norfolk resisted. A consultant the airport hired recommended expanding on the old site. Airport officials pointed out that both New York’s La Guardia and Washington’s National sat on sites no bigger than Norfolk’s airport. The consultant confidently predicted 4 million passengers annually by 1990.

Present traffic in 1999: Under 3 million — below its traffic in 1984. By comparison, Charlotte went from 5.5 million passengers in 1982 to 22 million passengers in 1996. The Virginian-Pilot, which uneasily arbitrated the debate in its pages, seemed to sense that the region was making the wrong decision, but seemed not to have the nerve to oppose Norfolk.

“Perhaps Tidewater would be better served by a new and larger airport elsewhere. The Port Authority believes otherwise and . . .at this point it would be asking much to demand that the authority back up and start over,” said a 1969 editorial.

It was classic Virginian-Pilot. Squishy. It vaguely supported the status-quo, while leaving you with the feeling that something was being lost.

Another Virginian-Pilot editorial advised:

“Hampton Roads may in time attract a significant amount of long-haul traffic. Meanwhile, Patrick Henry and Norfolk Regional must base their plans on what is probable. It is improbable that either will become a major airport. And simply building a major facility is not the way to enter the big time. Demand must be there. Dullas International Airport, with its sweeping runways and uncluttered setting, is scandalously underused.”

Hindsight is easy, but it’s amusing how wrong this editorial is. In fact, Dullas would eventually be swamped and is now being expanded. And notice the passivity of the editorial voice. It captures much of our faults as a region. It doesn’t say, “If we build a big airport, we can capture much of the long-haul traffic.” It essentially says, “We should only build a big airport if we have captured the long-haul traffic.” Which of course, would never happen without the right runways and facilities.

It seems obvious now that Norfolk chose the wrong path and so hurt the future of itself and the entire region. Norfolk proceeded with its plans even though Piedmont Airlines — the predecessor of USAir — was sniffing around for a hub airport — WHICH EVENTUALLY WENT TO CHARLOTTE. It proceeded even though it knew larger jet planes could not land there, although later technological advances would reverse this. It built it even though it put civilian airplanes too close to military traffic.

Why did it persist on such a wrong-headed path? It’s here we see how one good turn begets another, and how the suburban cities urge to separate themselves from Mother Norfolk would come back to haunt them.

At the time of the airport debate, just a few years had passed since old Princess Anne county had “double-crossed” Norfolk and merged with the town of Virginia Beach to become a separate city. Nansemond and Norfolk counties soon followed suit, becoming Suffolk and Chesapeake.

Can you blame Norfolk for not exactly being eager to relinquish control of one of its few remaining assets — its airport — to a bunch of folks who had just recently told it in effect, “We’ll take your jobs, money and water, and you can have your problems with schools, race and retail flight.”

“I think the argument turned on that the City Council did not want it moved out of Norfolk,” said businessman Edward Power Sr., who was a close associate of Hogan. “It was the old story is that each city wanted to protect its own image, and not share a large asset with another community.”

In effect, the decision not to move the airport really was a continuation of the decision by the suburban areas not to be a part of Norfolk. We can’t have your suburbs, you can’t have our airport.

The new expanded airport opened in January 1973 to much fanfare. The new terminal, sitting on the edge of the Botanical Gardens, was declared one of the prettiest in the country.

Hogan, speaking before it opened, labeled it “A first-class terminal with a fifth-class runway.”

Paying for the $30 million expansion wasn’t difficult. The airlines paid for it through higher landing fees. Of course, by not paying then, we may be paying now. A state study in 1997 concluded Virginians pay 20 percent more than the national average for air travel, and that our fares have risen in recent years while declining slightly in the rest of the nation.

NEW SECTION {capitalize first few words} Twenty-five years pass. Norfolk International is a nice, pleasant airport. It is also a very small one. In national rankings based on number of passengers travelling annually, Norfolk International has slipped from 43rd in 1973, to 53rd in 1982, to 60th today.

Construction is now underway on a $60 million new arrivals terminal, and a $35 million additional parking garage. THIS WILL EXPAND THE NUMBER OF TICKET COUNTERS AND LANDING GATES, AND SO IMPROVE THE AIRPORT’S COMPETITIVENESS. But these are unlikely to radically change the airport’s national position, because it IS STILL HEMMED IN AND LACKS ROOM TO EXPAND RUNWAYS. THE AIRPORT LACKS PARALLEL RUNWAYS, WHICH ARE NECESSARY TO LAND JETS IN HIGH VOLUME.

THE AIRPORT MAY EVENTUALLY BUILD A PARALLEL RUNWAY. BUT BECAUSE VIRGINIA BEACH HAS BUILT ITS INDUSTRIAL PARK UP TO THE EDGE OF THE AIRPORT, THE FUTURE PARALLEL RUNWAY WILL NOT BE THE REQUIRED 800 FEET FROM THE ORIGINAL RUNWAY. BECAUSE OF THIS, THE RUNWAYS WILL NOT BE ABLE TO BE USED FOR SIMULATANEOUS LANDINGS, ONE OFFICIAL SAID. LACK OF COOPERATION BETWEEN THE TWO CITIES ON THIS ISSUE STRANGLED THE AIRPORT’S CAPACITY FOR GROWTH.

Our main airport is still pretty. The rectangular terminal is majestic, and is enhanced by its frame of trees and lush gardens. It is also convenient. You can drive right up to it, and get from car-door to plane without jogging down endless corridors or navigating multiple access lanes.

But the rest of your voyage is likely to be hellish. Odds are, you’ll find yourself crammed into a tiny cylinder of an airplane, transferring to get any destination beyond a stone’s throw away, and being served last and least in everything.

Airline service is lousy all over the country. It’s not just Norfolk that puts up with cramped seating, aging planes, discriminatory pricing and monopolistic airlines. They are largely the product of airline deregulation which some experts are labeling a failure.

But as airlines become semi-monopolies ruling over land-locked fiefdoms, it’s the little guys like Norfolk that suffer most. Stories of air travel out of Norfolk sound like those from a war zone or some natural disaster. No direct flights. Horrible layovers. Horrible prices. No respect.

Virginian-Pilot columnist Dave Addis, who apparently leaves his beloved car sometimes for a plane, hit nerves recently when he pointed out that airline service in Bulgaria was better than that in Norfolk.

Recently I was in the Newark airport, changing planes of course, on my way back to Norfolk from distant Boston. I had to shlep my way to gate 133 in a dim rusty corner of the airport. There, an official ushered us out a door, where we found ourselves on a sidewalk in the rain. We were boarded onto a Greyhound-style bus that then drove us to the tiny plane on the runway that would take us to Norfolk. It was very clear where we were on the status ladder.

Business theorist Ted Goranson, who lives in Virginia Beach, recently missed his plane from New York to Italy for an important meeting. Winds and rain in New York shut out the tiny planes leaving Norfolk, although regular full-size jets were landing fine. Goranson remembers standing in line next to a businessman from Brazil who had just missed his own flight back. He was vigorously scratching the area off his list of potential sites.

More and more, one has to transfer in Washington or Philadelphia even to get to New York City. Direct service is usually in tiny commuter planes.

“Without question, we should have jet service to New York,” said Kenneth R. Scott, current executive director of the airport. “But talk to the airlines, and they all have different reasons for the inability to put jets in.”

And then there are the prices. A trip to Boston without a Saturday stayover, even bought several weeks in advance, recently was costing $700 on USAir.

Ouch.

Of course, all this sets back the economic potential of the area. Having good direct service is simply indispensable for many companies.

We like to talk of how we are the 25th largest metropolitan area, and the only one without a professional sports team. Might it have something to do with us having the 60th largest airport in passenger volume?

Our decision to have two smaller airports — Norfolk International and Patrick Henry in Newport News — mirrors our decision to have lots of other smaller things, say some area observers. Because we can’t cooperate, we end up having four or five convention centers, rather than one or two that would bring in the big guys. The same goes with stadiums and airports.

“We are going to have more mediocre things than anyone else,” said Brad Face of The Face Companies, A MEMBER OF THE AIRPORT EXPANSION ADVISORY COMMITEE, AND PRESIDENT OF THE FUTURE OF HAMPTON ROADS. and a regional business leader. “We are going to have more 10,000 seat arenas than anywhere else in the country. Scope. The Coliseum. ODU. William and Mary. Hampton University. But we don’t have one 25,000 seat stadium. We have two airports. Do we really need them?”

We do have one great big thing. Our port — Virginia International Terminals. What would have been our economic development potential if we had a great airport to go with it?

So what can we learn from all this? The point is to look ahead and see what other major decisions or projects lie ahead that might improve the region’s future.

It is a paradox that as we opt to let the free market rip, as private capital swarms across the globe looking for a home, it is increasingly the public, tax-payer financed decisions of metropolitan regions and their states that determine their competitiveness for that capital. Do we invest in that university or not? Do we build that airport? This even includes decisions like, Do we make the area more liveable by controlling sprawl, or by cooperating on controlling crime and social problems.

A region’s economy depends on its ability to move goods and people quickly and easily to other parts of the country and world. In our modern era, this usually means planes, interstates, ship and rail. Of those, only shipping is really top-notch in Hampton Roads, although freight links for rail are excellent. What if companies in and around Norfolk could easily transfer goods between interstate, air, ship and rail?

But the age of building big airports may be over, even though there has been loose talk of a Superport between here and Richmond. The same goes with interstates. Those transportational networks are largely in place.

The next major transportation revolution may be high-speed rail. As the possibilities and benefits of up to 300 mph travel becomes increasingly real, there is more and more talk of a high-speed network stretching along the East Coast.

Can Hampton Roads get in line for it? Or will we be bypassed? To be a part of it might require money, commitment and cooperation. Already, Charlotte is talking about a link between it and Washington D.C. by high-speed rail.

We’ll see what happens. Will we learn from our past?

Or repeat it?

The Future of Transportation, And Thus Our Cities

The Future of Transportation

Will the auto and airplane reign supreme?

 

By Alex Marshall

With the fall of the Soviet Union at the end of the 1980s, the political scientist Francis Fukiyama caused a sensation with an essay called “The End of History?” It postulated that, with the relative collapse of Communism, the struggle among rival political systems had ended with a permanent victory for liberal, democratic capitalism. All that was left to do was to refine it.

Is something similar happening with the way we get around? Have we reached “the End of History” with transportation? Will the current system of automobile and airplane travel reign supreme’for now and for centuries hence? Or will something new come along to remake our world, as it has in the past?

The context of such a question is this: Since about 1800, revolutionary changes in our transportation systems have created new types of cities, neighborhoods, and housing, while leaving old ones to wither away, or become antiques.

If history is any indication, we are due for another revolution soon. The car and the highway, and the airplane and airport, have been dominant for almost a century. By comparison, canals lasted about 50 years, streetcars about the same, and railroads about a century as dominant modes of travel.

Yet, some people say that the automobile and the highway are so imbedded in our landscape and lifestyles that nothing will ever challenge their dominance. In effect, they say we have reached the end of the historical road.

“It’s hard to imagine a fundamental change because the automobile system is so flexible,” says urban historian Robert Fishman, author of the 1989 history of suburbia, Bourgeois Utopias, and a professor at the Taubman College of Architecture and Urban Planning at the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor. “All I can imagine is a better balance with a revival of the train and transit connections that have been so shamefully neglected.”

But, if the past is any guide, we won’t see a new revolution until it is upon us. People, maybe even particularly experts, have difficulty envisioning a new transportation context from within the current one. Fishman, although himself skeptical of any coming big change, recalls the scholar who around 1900 predicted that the automobile would never go far because it couldn’t match the utility of the bicycle.

Hovering over this discussion is a single word: sprawl. Our low-density, car-clogged environment is the product of our transportation system. Highways and airports produce low-density sprawl. Old transportation revolutions, such as streetcars and subways, made cities denser because housing and businesses flocked to these transportation points. If we do have another transportation revolution ‘ the personal jet pack, high speed trains, the humble bicycle ‘ it could make sprawl even worse. Or, it could reconstitute our cities around new transportation hubs.

The Past As Prologue
Six words summarize transportation over the last two centuries: canals, railroads, streetcars, bicycles, automobile, and airplanes. Each mode remade the economy and the landscape. Each was generally adopted only after government got behind it financially and legally.

The canal era started in earnest in 1817, when New York State had the gumption to sell $7 million in bonds to pay thousands of laborers to dig a 350-mile trench from Albany to Buffalo. The Erie Canal, when it went into service in 1825, opened up the entire Midwest to shipping and made New York the commercial hub of the New World. Other states and cities frantically dug their own canals in an unsuccessful effort to catch up.

Spurred in part by these efforts, other cities and states began investing in a new technology’railroads’that gradually replaced canals. The railroad created railroad cities, like Atlanta, and converted canal cities, like Chicago, into railroad cities. With the railroads came streetcars, first horse-drawn and then electric.

Because the first railroad tracks were often laid alongside the first canals, the canal cities tended to prosper even as the canals declined in importance. Economists call this phenomenon “path dependence,” (even as they debate its significance), and it still occurs. New York City, for example, is no longer dependent on the Erie Canal, but its because of the canal that that the rail lines, highways and airports were located in and around the city.

From about 1875 to 1925, railroads were at their peak. Urban palaces like New York’s Grand Central Station and Pennsylvania Station were built and opened, so that millions of passengers could shuttle across thousands of miles of tracks that stretched to every corner of the country. Few riders could have imagined that within their lifetimes, weeds would grow along thousands of miles of abandoned tracks.

Although the automobile dates to the 1890s, drivers were scarce until cities, towns, and states began paving roads’which took awhile. Many of the first roads were built, ironically, at the urging of bicyclists, who needed better roads to use their two-wheel contraptions. The League of American Wheelmen convinced the Department of Agriculture to create the Bureau of Public Roads. This small agency would grow into the Federal Transportation Department.

But better roads did not happen overnight. In 1922, 80 percent of U.S. roads were dirt and gravel. At first, railroad companies lent their political muscle to the “good roads” effort. After all, their leaders reasoned, better highways would get rail passengers to the stations more easily.

After World War I, the automobile and later the airplane, served by publicly funded roads and airports, began to supplant the passenger rail system and its intimate companion, the streetcar.
World War I helped convince government and business that investing in roads was worthwhile. During the war, massive railroad congestion brought on by the war effort forced some inter-city industrial transportation onto roads via trucks. Surprisingly (for the time,) it worked. Soon, states and the federal government began investing more in roads and airports, and less in train service.

As urban historian Eric Monkkonen noted in his 1988 book, America Becomes Urban, governments and taxpayers were the fundamental builders of this country’s transportation systems. New York state built the Erie Canal. Federal and state governments gave away a fifth of the nation’s total land area to the railroads. Congress, at the urging of President Dwight D. Eisenhower, financed the Interstate Highway System. Cities and states built airports. Even the New York City subways, although operated by private companies at first, were built with taxpayer dollars.

Each of these transportation innovations’canals, railroads, streetcars, cars, highways, and airplanes ‘ created new ways to live and work, and thus new types of neighborhoods and cities. The banks of Schenectady, New York are still lined with the ornate buildings created during the heyday of the Erie Canal. The streetcar era, which lasted from the late 19th century to World War II, led to thousands of streetcar suburbs, densely populated communities at the fringes of 19th century cities. And of course, the highway and air travel system created the current pattern of low-density sprawl that defines our built environment.

The Next Big Thing
If history is any indication, we are overdue for another change that will change how we travel, and thus change the form of our cities and towns.

“Nothing really revolutionary has occurred since the Wright brothers and the combustion engine, and that’s now about 100 years old,” says Elliot Sander, Director, Rudin Center for Transportation Policy and Management at New York University. While some might say this is evidence of the longevity of car-use and air travel, it’s also evidence that we are overdue for a big change. After all, past transportation eras, such as canals to railroads, have lasted from about 50 to 100 years. Then, something new has come along, and created a new dominant transportation system.

What might the next big thing be? Among the possibilities is the nifty Segway, the “gyro-scooter” that enables someone standing on it to point and ride. Or it could be the Solotrek Helicopter Backpack. A user straps it on and rotating blades overhead carry him where he wants. So far only prototype versions exist. Another variation is the Airboard, which hovers four inches off the ground and costs a mere $15,000. Of all these, the Segway actually seems to have a chance to live up to some of its hype.

Maybe the revolution will come in the form of small airplanes. In his 2001 book, Free Flight: From Airline Hell to a New Age of Travel, James Fallows, who is himself a pilot, foresees a future where people use small planes like taxis or rental cars for short flights between the thousands of small airports that now are underused.

Rail is another, more likely, option. High-speed rail networks are common in Europe and Japan, and in theory they hold great promise in more densely populated areas of the United States.

The situation now, as is typical in the United States, is a scattershot mix of aggressive policies by some states mixed with erratic federal actions. Various states and coalitions of states are aggressively lobbying to create or preserve high-speed rail corridors, under the assumptions that being in the high-speed loop will be as important as being on the Interstate in the 1950s. North Carolina are creating a ‘sealed corridor’ for high-speed rail across the state; California and Florida have both received Federal grants toward high-speed rail initiatives; The Wisconsin-based, Midwest Regional Rail Initiative, which is a coalition of Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Michigan, Minnesota, Missouri, Nebraska, Ohio, and Wisconsin, is pushing for a high-speed network with Chicago as the hub. And of course in the Northeast Corridor, Amtrak is running what might be called its ‘almost-high-speed’ service, Acela Express. Meanwhile though, Congress perennially discusses killing or reorganizing Amtrak and has yet to really get behind any national rail policy, even while some members are quite passionate about it.

The Buck Rogers version of high-speed rail, a Magnetic Levitation train, has been around for a while, but working examples are still few. Demonstration versions exist in Germany, Japan and even Norfolk, Va. But the only real working version is in China. Shanghai has just finished a $30 billion Magnetic Levitation rail line between its airport and downtown. The train reaches 250 mph and travels the 19 miles between airport and downtown in eight minutes, compared to an hour by taxi. Theoretically, Maglev trains, which float above the tracks on magnets, could reach speeds up to 500 mph. Despite generally parsimonious funding, the Federal Railroad Administration is administering a national competition, the winner of which would get funds to build a working maglev line in the United States.

Whether it’s Maglev or a Segway, the challenge in predicting radical change is that by its very nature it tends to be unforeseen.

“We’re very bad at predicting those big discontinuities,” says Bruce Schaller of Schaller Consulting, a transportation consulting firm in New York. “It’s like the Internet. I remember in the early 1980s, I visited a friend at Stanford who had e-mail on the early ARPA network. I said, ‘That’s really cool.’ But I never thought about it as something I could do.” Schaller notes that for the last few years, mass transit use has increased faster than highway use. This hasn’t happened in a half-century.

In fact, most transportation planners are conservative in their predictions. “I would not be investing in jumbo helicopters, dirigibles, personal rapid transit systems, motorized scooters, powered roller skates, etc., although they sure would be fun,” says Elliot Sander of the Rudin Center.

Autophilia
To its defenders, the automobile is irreplaceable, no matter what the predictions. If we run out of oil, they say, we can switch to hydrogen fuel cells. If gas prices skyrocket, we can buy smaller cars. If global warming increases, we can reduce emissions. And if our roads become overwhelmingly congested, we will simply build more roads.

“I don’t think congestion will stop the automobile,” says Jose G’mez-Ib”ez, the Derek Bok professor of urban planning and a leading transportation planner at the Graduate School of Design and the Kennedy School at Harvard University. “I think the solution to congestion is to spread out more. There’s no doubt that we will have more mass transit in the future, but as people get richer in places like China, are they going to want to drive, and be mobile, and maybe drive SUVs? The answer is ‘yes.'”

“The automobile will continue to be the dominant mode of getting around,” says Mark Kuliewicz, traffic engineer for the American Automobile Association in New York. “Cars may be powered by something other than gasoline, and hopefully soon, but they’ll still be there.”

End of the Road?
But auto travel is dependent on roads. And an increasing number of critics believe that the expanding universe of highways’what historian Kenneth Jackson has called “the Big Bang of decentralization that started in the 1920s’ — has about reached its limit.

Robert Yaro, president of the Regional Plan Association in New York (where I am a senior fellow), argued in a speech last year at the World Economic Forum in New York that for political, financial, and practical reasons, it is becoming increasingly difficult to build more highways. More and more citizens accept the fact that we cannot build our way out of congestion and sprawl, he said.

Yaro pointed out that highway construction has drastically slowed in the tri-state New York metropolitan area. From 1951 to 1974, the region’s highway system added some 54 miles a year. In the last decade, it has added only four miles per year.

The message is clear, said Yaro in an interview. “I strongly believe that we’ve used up the capacity of our 20th century infrastructure systems, and we’re going to need a heroic and visionary (and expensive) set of new investments to create capacity for growth in the 21st century.’

A key investment would be “new or significantly upgraded intercity rail systems in the half-dozen metropolitan corridors where high-speed rail makes sense.” Yaro is essentially endorsing some version of the high-speed or improved rail networks being pushed in Congress and by coalitions of cities and states.

Smart Roads
Most experts foresee increasing use of high-tech or “smart” technology to wrest more capacity from overloaded roads. In its more elaborate forms, smart technology includes things like imbedding highways with magnets, which would pull cars or trucks along at 100 mph and stop them when needed.

It also includes cars that brake themselves; GPS positioning systems that allow drivers (or their cars) to sort their ways around traffic jams; and computer chips and scanners that allow governments to price highways and charge drivers for using them, with different rates for different times.

The latter, usually called Congestion Pricing, is the Holy Grail of transportation specialists. Although once considered politically impossible, the idea of paying for using roads may now be acceptable to a public searching for a way out of congestion’even it means ending one of the last arenas of egalitarianism, the highway.

Highway space “is a scarce resource, and if it is scarce, we have to manage it. In a market economy, this means pricing,” says Sigurd Grava, professor of urban planning at Columbia University, and author of the new book, Urban Transportation Systems: Choices for Community.

“This will be the first time we will manage the use of the public right of way. In the past, anyone has been able to walk, ride a horse, or use a motor vehicle without restrictions except for traffic control. But this is changing,” says Grava.

By definition, congestion pricing would eliminate traffic jams on any highway or road in the country. But at what price? In recent years in a federal experiment on Interstate 15 in San Diego, drivers paid as much as $8 during peak periods for congestion-free traveling on an eight-mile stretch of highway. At less busy times, prices dropped to 50 cents.

In 2000, transportation planners with Portland’s Metro regional government modeled how congestion pricing would change the region if used on key highways. They found citizens would buy smaller cars, drive less, and live closer to where they work.

With evolving computer technology, drivers could be charged for using even a neighborhood street. This could work similar to Mayor Ken Livingstone’s successful attempt to charge drivers to enter center-city London. Automatic cameras photograph license plates and send drivers a bill. Instituted in March 2003, the plan has already reduced traffic in London by 20 percent and won over many of its initial opponents.

Managing traffic, whether through smarter internal guidance systems in the automobiles or some version of congestion pricing, has the potential to substantially add capacity and efficiency to our road network, say most experts. “We’ve doubled and tripled the number of planes in the skies in the last generation, even though very few new airports have been built,” notes one federal highway official who chose to remain anonymous. “We’ve done it through better air traffic control.” Reasoning by analogy, the official said the ground equivalent of air traffic control, such as automated guidance systems, better traffic information and more pervasive tolling, could wring substantially more capacity out of our current allotment of asphalt.
On The Ground
Whether the future brings simply better cars, or Star-Trek like transporters, cities and towns here and abroad will change as a result. As current transportation systems evolve, cities and towns are evolving with them.

In France, for example, the high-speed train network is producing new commuting patterns. For example, some people are living in Paris, yet commuting to jobs in Tours, a medium-sized city about 150 miles southwest from Paris. On the high-speed train, this journey takes 58 minutes. In New Jersey, suburban rail towns are reviving around improved transit connections to Manhattan. In Atlanta, the excessive highway building of the last few decades has produced both suburban sprawl, and, paradoxically, a revival of inner city neighborhoods as people flee congested freeways.

So what’s ahead for our communities? Yaro and several others see a future in which new transit lines make the suburbs more like the city. This future is not so imaginary. Around the New York region, classic commuter rail towns are reviving around substantial reinvestments in the rail system, like the new, $450 million rail transfer station in New Jersey’s Meadowlands.

Cities evolve in unexpected ways. The introduction of freeways decimated many downtowns in the 1950s, something unpredicted at the time. Houston’s downtown in 1960, for example, had become mostly surface parking lots. But today in Houston, tall parking garages have replaced much of the surface parking, and the downtown is substantially denser. Perhaps in the future, more office buildings will replace the parking garages, and people will take commuter rail service to work. In fact, the city is already building a light rail line downtown.

We could also go the other way. If auto use continues at the same level and personal jets take off as Fallows and some others predict, sprawl is likely to increase. New homes and businesses would spring up around small airports throughout the country.

An unstable mix of government subsidies, technological promise, and private profit will determine what comes next, and this will vary from place to place. Indicators like wealth will not always offer reliable clues as to what transportation systems particular societies will adopt.

Consider the humble bicycle. It’s used extensively in China, which has a very low per capita income, and in Scandinavia, which has a very high per capita income. In Copenhagen, more than a third of commuters use bicycles. The point is that wealth alone does not adequately predict transportation use. You might say that the Chinese use bicycles because they have to; the Danish because they want to.

What Planners Can Do
For the most part, U.S. urban planners work separately from transportation planners. The average state or city planning director tends to react to transportation decisions, rather than to make them. Planners have tended to focus on zoning and land-use regulation, which is often auxiliary to the real work being done by the transportation engineers.

In a better ordered world, land planners would have responsibility for transportation planning, (or supervise those who do it), and urban designers would be directly involved with state and federal highway planning.

We probably haven’t reached the end of history when it comes to transportation. But whatever the future, it would be a better one if we had a broader range of choices. As a country, we have tended to lurch from one extreme to another. In the 1890s, we had the most extensive rail system in the world’and one of the worst road systems. By the 1950s, we had abandoned our extensive streetcar system. Today, we lack a decent passenger rail system but have a great highway system. Like the fiber-optic cable industry and the Internet rage, transportation has proceeded in a boom-bust fashion.

When the next big thing does comes along, let’s not be too quick to abandon proven modes. The past teaches not only that change comes, but that the best societies offer a range of transportation choices, including using one’s own two feet.
END

–Published in Planning Magazine, May 2003

Resources
–Midwest High Speed Rail Coalition. www.midwesthsr.org
–High Speed Ground Transportation Association. www.hsgta.org.
–National Association of Railroad Passengers. www.narprail.org.
–American Highways Users Alliance. www.highways.org
–Transportation Alternatives. www.transalt.org
–Surface Transportation Policy Project. www.transact.org

 

Moving Hampton Roads

“The Joseph Papers”, Summer 2000. This paper was commissioned by The Joseph Center at Christopher Newport University for the study of local, state and regional government. It was the inaugural edition of “The Joseph Papers,” which are meant to provide a forum for the discussion of regional cooperation in the Norfolk Metropolitan Area. The “Joseph Papers” are scheduled to be published biannually. This paper examined regional transportation.

By Alex Marshall

Three hundred and twenty years ago a surveyor pulled his boat up on the muddy bank of a river and laid out the rudiments of a street system; streets for a new town named Norfolk, carved out of what was then Lower Norfolk County.

Virginia didn’t need towns much in 1680. Plantation owners shipped tobacco directly to England from docks on the James and other rivers. But the King didn’t like this decentralized system, so he ordered the General Assembly to set up towns to facilitate trade; twenty new towns in all, including Norfolk, Elizabeth City and soon afterward Hampton — and what we now call Hampton Roads was born.

Transportation has always been central to Hampton Roads, as it has to most cities. If they didn’t sit on a huge body of water that opens onto the Atlantic Ocean, Norfolk, Newport News, Portsmouth, Chesapeake, Hampton, and Virginia Beach would not exist. Things have changed a lot in the past 400 years, but access to principal transportation links is still crucial to a region’s economy.

Today, Hampton Roads is contemplating many transportation projects; from the 3rd Crossing and getting in on a high-speed rail line down the East Coast, to the everyday widening of boulevards and streets. How can we think about these projects and others in ways that maximize the wealth of the region and its quality of life?

I posit something here. That we in Hampton Roads have tended to think about transportation the wrong way, and that this wrong way of thinking is hurting our living standards, our potential as a region and our quality of life. Like most regions, we have tended to make transportation decisions reactively, in response to traffic jams or the loudest complaints. What we have seldom done is to use transportation ‘ the highways, train lines, airports and smaller pieces like streets, bike paths and sidewalks ‘ strategically, in order to build a better economy, and a better place to live.

Transportation is one of the core functions of government. Where and how we build roads, train lines and airports are wagers by society, bets placed on the best way to structure ourselves. But they should be seen as such. As with education decisions, transportation decisions build the future.

When one’s eye stretches across Hampton Roads, one sees a sprawling mass of subdivisions, shopping centers and office parks, stretching from Williamsburg to North Carolina, connected by thin reeds of superhighways across meandering bodies of water, and punctuated by isolated airports. How do we knit this assemblage into a more prosperous and cohesive whole?

We have two big problems in Hampton Roads: Our practical isolation from the rest of the country, and our over abundance of suburban sprawl. Thinking differently about transportation could solve both these problems.

Forty years ago, Lewis Mumford, the great urban planner and historian, asked forty years ago: “What is transportation for?” That’s still the key question. As Mumford answered, it is NOT about just moving cars from place to place. It is about understanding how highways, train lines and airports, ‘ the tools of transportation, ‘ interact with their environment, and build a community.

To Paris, New York, or Raleigh
Let’s say you leave your house in the morning to take a plane, train or private car to a meeting in Washington. How will that experience be? Not very nice. The train is slow and seldom. The plane is outrageously expensive. And the private car on the public highway is shoulder-to-shoulder with thousands of other travelers. And unlike on a plane or a train, in a private car you cannot prepare for the meeting by reading or writing.

Let’s change the trip. Let’s say you are going to Raleigh, not very far away as the crow flies. How are the connections? Even worse. In fact, our connections are poor to just about anywhere outside Hampton Roads.

These linkages to other parts of a country and the globe are what I call external transportation. They are the building blocks of a region’s economy. They are our airports, sea ports, Interstates and train lines. To make it today, a region should have a great airport, great train links, great Interstate connections, and a great port’or as many of these as possible. Right now, Hampton Roads has only one ‘ a great port.

Hampton Roads has historically done a poor job of establishing major transportation links – air, rail and highways – that would complement the port and multiply its economic power. This is partly the fault of national transportation policy, but it’s also a product of poor local and state decisions.

In 1957 Congress passed The Defense and Interstate Highway Act. As the first part of its name suggests, the official rationale for the largest public works project in human history was to help move troops and supplies across the country. So it is odd, and unfair, that the Norfolk/Newport News/Virginia Beach metropolitan area was left with some of the poorest Interstate connections in the country. State legislators, part of the Byrd machine, paid little attention to Hampton Roads. They focused on Richmond, which ended up with I-95 and I-64.

The 1960s and 70s were a time of great airport expansions. Hampton Roads missed out once again. Around 1970, we had a chance to build a major regional airport. Sites in then rural Chesapeake and Suffolk ‘ now covered with subdivisions ‘ were examined. But unsure if air traffic would materialize, and unable to agree among ourselves, we expanded the isolated Norfolk and Newport News airports instead.

By comparison, let’s look at Charlotte, North Carolina. In 1970, the Charlotte and the Norfolk airports had about the same amount of traffic, a few million passengers a year. Now, the Charlotte airport handles about 25 million passengers a year. Norfolk International Airport, our region’s largest, handles only 3 million passengers a year. Norfolk, once the 43rd largest airport in the country, has slipped to 60th.

If Hampton Roads is to improve its economy, then beefing up those major transportation links should be a top priority. It will not be easy.

Building A Better Place to Live
Let’s step out of that house again, only this time you are driving to work, to the mall on a Saturday, or just walking across the street to a neighbor’s. With any of these tasks, you are linked by a public web of streets, highways, and sidewalks.

It’s these I call the internal system of transportation. This system not only gets us from here to there; it helps determine the form of the places where we live. It even determines the type of home we live in. It’s no accident that homes in Ghent, in Norfolk ,’ a neighborhood built around a streetcar line in 1890, ‘ are tall and statuesque, and packed closely together. Just as it is no accident that the homes in those new subdivisions around Williamsburg built around easy access to the Interstate, are low-slung and sprawling.

Just as we usually fail to use external transportation strategically, we fail in a similar way with internal transportation. We should be building transportation systems with an eye toward what type of environment they produce. Instead, on a day to day basis, our planners build roads to solve traffic jams ‘ which demonstrably does not work. In fact, in the last 50 years, we have built more roads than in all of human history, and traffic has gotten worse and worse.

One need only look at Atlanta to see the effects of trying to solve traffic problems by building roads. This central southern city has invested more in highways per capita than almost any city in the country. The result? Its residents now drive more miles per day than anyone, and spend more time stuck in traffic.

In 1982 the average American spent 16 hours sitting in traffic. In 1997 that number rose to 45. Atlanta’s numbers went from 16 to 68! In Hampton Roads, delays increased from nine hours in 1982 to 34 in 1997’that’s not as bad as Atlanta, but it’s still an increase of almost 400 percent in just 15 years!

With both internal and external transportation, a balanced system is best. We should build cities where people have alternatives to their cars. The roads might still be congested, but fewer people would depend on them if they could use a bicycle, a trolley, or their own two-feet. That’s why efforts to build light rail lines around Hampton Roads should continue. That’s why less publicized endeavors, like making areas more accessible by bike, should proceed.

Portland, Oregon is fashioning an American version of the European compact city. A regional growth boundary has helped shrink the area, and the transportation department is building fewer roads and highways. Meanwhile, the regional government encourages neighborhood and smaller city centers to develop in a way that allows people to drive, bicycle, or walk to them.

The result: Portlanders drive an average of 20 miles a day, compared to 32 miles in Atlanta.

What we don’t need more of in Hampton Roads is limited-access highways within the developed metropolitan area. These roads were designed for long-distance travel, not daily commuting and shopping. That’s why the Southeastern Expressway, proposed from Virginia Beach to Chesapeake, is a bad idea. It goes from one suburb to another, exactly the type of highway unsuited for short commuting. It would greatly exacerbate sprawl.

It bears repeating. To diminish sprawl, we should diminish highway building and widening within the developed area. We should put that money into improved bus service, light rail lines and redesigning streets to accommodate more bicyclists and walkers.

Not Doing The Job
In our region, the Hampton Roads Planning District Commission is the principal long-range planning body for transportation. In general, it has missed opportunities by oiling the squeaky wheels of traffic congestion, rather than building a long-term vision for the area.

In its 1999 report, The Future of Transportation in Hampton Roads, the Hampton Roads Planning District Commission examines and endorses seven major projects: the Hampton Roads Crossing ($2.4 billion), the I-64 improvements on the Peninsula ($1.3 billion), the CSX corridor light rail line ($600 million), the Route 460 expansion ($1 billion), the Norfolk/Virginia Beach light rail ($1 billion), the Midtown tunnel and Pinners Point connection ($650 million), and the Southeastern Expressway ($425 million.)

The weaknesses are not in these individual projects ‘ some of them are needed, some of them are useless ‘ but in the method the planners use for selecting and evaluating them. In general, the planners picked these transportation projects by looking at where congestion is heaviest ‘ and recommending expansion.

The HPRDC planners should be asking how a proposed project will affect land-use, and how it will affect economic development. Building highways in response to traffic jams usually makes congestion worse in the long run by increasing reliance on the automobile.

Art Collins, executive director of the Commission, said the Commission was hampered because it lacked the authority to combine land-use and transportation into a planning package. This is true. It would help Hampton Roads if land-use and transportation planning were combined under one regional entity. But absent that, it does not mean that the HRPDC cannot predict how its projects will affect land-use, or how major transportation projects can promote economic development.

Regional leaders are recognizing these problems: “It’s obvious we can’t continue to build more and more roads,” said Clyde Hoey, the head of the Chamber of Commerce on the Peninsula. “You reach the point of diminishing returns.”

Southbound ‘ An Opportunity
If we thought more strategically about transportation we might find our vision drifting southward.

Standing on the southern-most border of Hampton Roads ‘ in Virginia Beach on the North Carolina line ‘ you are almost as close to Raleigh as you are to Richmond. As the crow flies, you are only about 125 miles away from one of the richest and fastest growing areas in the nation.
The average income of Hampton Roads residents continues to decline relative to the rest of the nation. Just the opposite is true for Raleigh-Durham, due to its growing concentration of high-tech industry based around the Research Triangle and the universities. But we here in Hampton Roads are cut off from the Raleigh/Durham/Chapel Hill area. By car, the usual means, it takes a good four or five hours, half of which is non-interstate. Politically, culturally and economically, Raleigh seems a million miles away.
If Hampton Roads could connect itself better to Raleigh, we could end our status as a dead-end cul-de-sac on the East Coast. We would connect with several Interstates, as well as a new train line being built between Raleigh and Charlotte. And with our huge port, there are natural connections. Virginia International Terminals now gets 30 percent of its total volume in shipping through North Carolina. Direct highway linkage would improve the port’s competitive advantage.

Our planners have ignored this opportunity because they plan in response to existing traffic patterns. Thinking more strategically about transportation could cast the now light traffic between Hampton Roads and Raleigh in a new light.

High-Speed Rail ‘ the Next Interstate?
We are doing something correctly in the present. And that is the commitment regional leaders are showing to being part of the proposed high-speed rail system down the East Coast. Leaders understand that being left out of this line would be comparable to being left out of the Interstate highway system in the 20th century or the railroad system in the 19th century.

The decision by the General Assembly this year to award $25 million for initial planning of a high-speed line down the Route 460 corridor from Petersburg is wonderful news.

How can we ensure that this high-speed rail system does not pass us by?

I suggest playing the military card as strongly as possible. Navy and business leaders should argue as a team that a high-speed line must connect to the country’s largest naval base. After all, defense concerns justified the Interstate highway system. If a major war occurred, high-speed train connections could be vital for moving troops and supplies. Can the cooperation of Navy officials be gained now?

And Hampton Roads should be part of the main line’not a spur. That’s why the 460 path might be better than a route down the Peninsula, because it would be easier for the line to continue south to North Carolina.

The point with all these choices is that we can build better places to live if we think about transportation more consciously and understand its effects. It is the most important tool we have for shaping our environment. If we learn to use it more effectively, we’ll have a more livable and prosperous region.

ALEX MARSHALL, A FORMER STAFF WRITER FOR THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT, IS A LOEB FELLOW AT HARVARD UNIVERSITY’S GRADUATE SCHOOL OF DESIGN. HIS FIRST BOOK, HOW CITIES WORK: SUBURBS, SPRAWL AND THE ROADS NOT TAKEN, WILL BE PUBLISHED THIS YEAR. MARSHALL SPECIALIZES IN WRITING ABOUT URBAN PLANNING ISSUES. THIS ESSAY WAS FIRST PUBLISHED AS THE INAUGURAL EDITION OF “THE JOSEPH PAPERS,” A PROJECT BY THE JOSEPH CENTER FOR THE STUDY OR LOCAL, STATE AND REGIONAL GOVERNMENT AT CHRISTOPHER NEWPORT UNIVERSITY IN NEWPORT NEWS.

 

Learning to Walk: Not Always So Easy in the Contemporary City

Driving along Route One in New Jersey last week, looking at the mammoth car dealerships and shopping centers lining the eight-lane highway, it was difficult to see how the words of noted Danish urbanist and architect Jan Gehl applied in such an environment. Where was there a public space to revive? Where was there a place to put a sidewalk cafe, a bicycle lane or a bench?

Gehl had spoken that same night before an audience of public officials and interested citizens in nearby Princeton, most of whom were participating in The Mayors’ Institute on Community Design for two days at Princeton, organized by Regional Plan Association and the New Jersey Department of Community Affairs, Office of Smart Growth. Gehl spoke at McCosh Hall, inside one of the classic stone buildings at the university, as students made their way outside over a thin blanket of snow.

Gehl, Director of the Center for Public Space Research at the School of Architecture at the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts in Copenhagen, has been practicing his profession for four decades. Similar to William “Holly” Whyte in New York City, Gehl has spent his career examining and analyzing public spaces, studying how to keep them vibrant, or make them so. His books include New City Spaces; Life Between Buildings; and Public Spaces-Public Life. The distillation of his work centers around that most ordinary of activities: walking. “We are born to walk,” Gehl said, as he sauntered across the stage, demonstrating one version of that activity. “We are slow-moving animals. All our senses are designed to move at 5 kilometers an hour. Everything important is done on our feet, as we were meant to be.

Walking is more than walking. Walking is life.” He also praised related activities, including sitting, standing, watching and bicycling. His work is a study of urban pleasure, and the ways of producing more of it.

His ideals are classic historic cities like Barcelona, or revived newer ones like Portland in the United States. His native Copenhagen has been his workshop. There, thanks to several decades of what Gehl called “tweaking,” people stroll, bicycle and hang out as a matter of course. His statistics are amazing. Thirty-three percent of people in Copenhagen bicycle to work, Gehl said, while another third use public transit.

The key to generating great public spaces, of course, is taming that dominant master and mistress of most American cities, the car, and the devices created to handle it – the highway, the parking lot and the garage. Citizens must ask their leaders to place other priorities ahead of moving as many cars through a place as possible, or parking them once they get there.

This means removing parking spaces and lanes of traffic. In Copenhagen, the city’s traffic engineer has methodically removed parking spaces each year, while adding space for cycling and walking. “If you remove the parking,” Gehl said, “people won’t drive.” His portrayal of bicycling in Copenhagen would startle many Americans, who tend to view it as primarily a sport. “It’s a transportation system,” Gehl said of cycling.

“It’s not just for the freaks with the bicycle helmets and the padded elbows.” With regards to public spaces, Gehl said, there are four types of cities: the Traditional City, the Invaded City, the Abandoned City and the Reconquered City. Traditional cities are those like Venice, where people have never stopped walking. An invaded city is one like Naples, where leaders have allowed cars to take over squares and sidewalks. Abandoned cities are those like Houston, with ghost-like centers.

Reconquered cities are those like Portland, where citizens have reclaimed the public sector through wise policies.

Seeing the urban vitality Gehl described as a possibility, it was difficult not to endorse his prescriptions. But were they really valid for much of the contemporary American landscape? Suburban municipalities like Virginia Beach, which is actually the most populous city in Virginia, lack any center to reconquer, much less abandon. At times, Gehl seemed to assume the existence of a traditional city framework. He twice spoke about “starting at the railway station” when talking of how to revive public spaces, seemingly unaware that most American cities lacked them.

Still, his words clearly applied to traditional towns like Princeton, which has a centuriesold structure of streets and buildings to revive.

In these traditional towns and cities, attempts to squeeze in more parking garages and more lanes of traffic are viewed by some as eroding the community’s charm. Adding more bike lanes, buses and jitneys, and actually removing parking and traffic lanes in most towns in the tri-state area would be revolutionary here.

Change is possible. It was somewhat gratifying to learn that Copenhagen was not always a Mecca for bicyclists and boulevardiers. In the 1960s, Gehl said, Danish planners were actually discouraging cycling under the theory that this would reduce bicycle accidents with cars. It was not until the gas crisis of the 1970s that planners began to revive the practice. Over the coming years, planners encouraged strolling and walking as well, and pedestrianized more streets and plazas. Many people objected, Gehl said, because they thought it was not consistent with traditional Danish character that valued privacy and the home. The Danish were not Italians, they said, accustomed to dwelling in public places.

“Now, we are more Italian than the Italians,” he said. “We have developed a public-life culture that no one would have thought possible 40 years ago.” Particularly astute were his observations of how the needs of people have changed over the generations. Once, people hungered for open space; now, they hunger for each other.

“One hundred years ago on a Sunday, people would rush away from the crowded city into the woods,” Gehl said. “Today on a Sunday, people rush from the undercrowded suburbs into the overcrowded city.” Gehl’s philosophy was a possible challenge to the architects and designers of the World Trade Center site. He criticized what he called “dog-shit planning,” where each architect lays his piece, and the space left over is considered public space. According to LMDC’s Alex Garvin, the opposite will be true at Ground Zero, with the chosen designer focusing first on the public spaces. If so, Gehl would approve.

“The proper hierarchy of planning,” Gehl said, is “life, space and buildings, not buildings, space, life.”

–Alex Marshall, Senior Editor, RPA.First Published Feb. 6, 2003, in Spotlight on the Region, of Regional Plan Association in New York


How Many Cyclists Can and Should Fit on City Streets?

The ferocious competition for a smidgen of asphalt on Manhattan streets might be best appreciated behind the handlebars of a bicycle. As I whiz up 8th Avenue or crosstown on 13th street, I’m confronted by double-parked delivery trucks, jaywalking pedestrians and meandering delivery boys, their bicycles draped with carryout food. Beside me, sleek SUVs with oversized grills, boxy belching trucks, and speeding yellow cabs all attempt, as I do, to grab a portion of street space and get where they are going as quickly as possible.

There’s no question that what I’m doing is dangerous. A careless taxi driver or a misplaced car door could kill or injure me in a heartbeat.

Nevertheless, I enjoy my now almost daily adventure on the city streets. I’m aided by a stint I had two decades ago as a bicycle courier in downtown Washington, D.C., where I learned to mix it up in city traffic.

I’m also rewarded in more practical ways.

Quite simply, getting around by bicycle is the quickest and most practical way to get from here to there for most of my destinations in Manhattan.

Yesterday, for example, I bicycled from my home at 15th and Eighth to a doctor’s appointment at 34th and Broadway, then down to RPA at Union Square. After work, I cycled to meet a friend at 10th and 2nd Avenue, and then back home to 15th and Eighth. On a bicycle, all these trips took minutes. Walking, taking a bus or the subway would have taken two to three times as long.

But despite the speed of cycling, few people do it in New York, probably because it’s dangerous and difficult. Could cycling as transportation, as opposed to recreation, ever become more commonplace within the city?

I think it could and should, but that doesn’t mean it would be easy or without sacrifice. It comes down to that precious commodity, street space. If more people were to cycle to work, school, the grocery store or the synagogue, the city would have to cede space to them, physically, culturally and legally.

New York is a very dense city. If ten percent of adult New Yorkers started cycling to work, that would mean something like a half a million bicycles on the street daily. If we ever approached Scandinavian levels of cycling, where up to 50 percent of people commute on bicycles, it boggles the mind to think what our streets would look like.

But that doesn’t mean such a city would not be better. Cycling is cheap, non-polluting, and healthy, provided one doesn’t get killed.

Right now, it’s clear that cyclists are interlopers in traffic. To change this, the city could construct more bike lanes, such as those that run along 6th Avenue and Hudson Street. But more importantly, we could change the way drivers see cyclists, and thus allow cyclists to integrate more into regular traffic. A public awareness campaign could tell automobile drivers that cyclists come first on city streets, and that serious legal penalties are applicable if this does not happen.

I am influenced by my experience of European cities. In Berlin, a large and contemporary city, I saw many men and women in business clothes cycling along major city streets. In Amsterdam one morning, I cycled downtown along with a horde of cycling morning commuters. At stoplights, rows of drivers waited patiently as the cyclists crossed first.

A Dutch friend said drivers know that cyclists always come first. Integration works better than segregation.

But even European cities face the question of where to put bicycles, once people are off them. If more people cycled in New York, where would we put those half a million bicycles? Sidewalks are already narrow and crowded. The solution, one transportation planner told me, is to park bicycles on streets, instead of on sidewalks. Take away a parking space, or two, on each city block, and put up bike racks in them. In the space that two cars use, you could put 20 bicycles, if not more.

Along with taking away parking spots from cars, the city could also re-design streets for cyclists rather than drivers. This may sound heretical, but one idea would be to make the major avenues in Manhattan two-directional again. Right now, a cyclist often has to travel a half mile out of his way to avoid traveling the wrong way down a one-way street. The Avenues in Manhattan used to be two-directional, but were made one-way in the 1950s to better accommodate automobile traffic.

Another benefit of making the avenues twodirectional again would more attractive bus service, because people would not have to walk over an avenue to reach a bus going their direction.

The city is not the only entity that could change how it does business. Bike manufacturers could start designing bikes for everyday transportation.

As one bike mechanic told me casually, in the United States bike designers are overly influenced by the sports market. Similar to the SUVs that threaten to mow me down, my bicycle is designed for leaping rocky mountain paths in a grimy Tshirt, not cruising along 3rd Avenue in a coat and tie. I would like to buy a bicycle like those in Holland, which have completely enclosed chains and gear hubs, thus eliminating the possibility of staining a skirt, pants leg or hand.

There are of course many other things that could or should change to make cycling more attractive in the city. Noah Budnick, projects director for Transportation Alternatives, the major advocacy group for bicycling, said secure bike parking is an issue. I know my relationship with my bike changed once I decided to just leave it on the street full time, and expose it to both thieves and the weather. I use my bicycle much more when I don’t have to carry it down two flights of stairs.

The city is not inactive on the cycling front.

The city has an ambitious Master bike plan that includes a proposed network of bike lanes and greenways. It’s a detailed and thorough plan that addresses every aspect of cycling. The executive summary states the case for urban cycling well.

‘Despite its reputation for insufferable congestion, New York City is in many ways ideal for cycling, offering dense land use (ideal for short trips,) relatively flat topography, a spectacular and expansive waterfront, and an extensive, linear park system,’ reads the executive summary. See here.

Nevertheless, the plan stops short of endorsing more cyclists mixing with conventional traffic.

Instead, it focuses on creating the 900-mile citywide cycling network, progress on which has been relatively slow.

So could hordes of cyclists ever cruise down Fifth Avenue? Be careful what you wish for, but I think New York would be a better, more livable place if this were to occur.

–Alex Marshall, an independent journalist, is a Senior Fellow at RPA.

Atlas Is Still Shrugging – And Riding the Subway

First published in The New York Observer
March 25, 2002
by Alex Marshall

When I take the subway, and enter into that labyrinth of tunnels and tracks that transport some five million of us daily, I think about Atlas Shrugged, that mad, 1,200-page homage to money and markets written by Ayn Rand, the late Russian ‘migr’ accustomed to wearing an embroidered silver dollar sign on her black cape, and one-time guru to Alan Greenspan and other important money men.

The first way they relate is obvious: The subway system, like the mythical Atlas, supports our world. It created the New York we know and usually love, of skyscrapers leaping out of the ground, filled with people. The built environment we think of as New York City grew out of the subway and its capacity to bring millions of people more or less at the same time to the same place. While Manhattan’s grid existed before the subway system, its skyscrapers did not-nor did its amazing employment density, which was based on moving millions into the city daily.

The late, great World Trade Center provides a good example. What if the Port Authority had built the towers without the No. 1 line and the PATH train beneath it and the ferry nearby? How much parking would you have needed so all those people could drive into Manhattan?

Well, using the standard suburban-developer’s formula of one parking space for every 250 square feet of office space, you would need 56,000 parking spaces for the World Trade Center’s 14 million square feet. Which means you would need 560 acres of parking, or basically all of lower Manhattan, because you can only fit 100 parking spaces per acre. So basically, you would’ve had to convert everything below Canal Street, from Tribeca to the Staten Island ferry, into a parking lot for one building complex. Or you could build parking garages. If you built the garages with the same expansive 50,000-square-foot plates as the twin towers, you’d need two 190-story parking garages to sit beside the 110-story World Trade Center towers. You would also need a 50-lane freeway to get the people there and back.

Most people don’t understand transportation. They think we have these places – like Times Square or, say, a shopping mall outside Atlanta – and we figure out how to move around within and between them. Actually, it works just the opposite: We create ways to move around, and that creates places. The subway and train lines created the New York we love, the same way the interstate highways created the Atlanta suburban sprawl we hate.

New York is so different in its physical form because a subway, unlike a highway, can move many people quickly to more or less the same place. A highway moves 1,800 vehicles per lane per hour. A good subway can move 60,000 to 80,000 people per track per hour!

So we are creations, in a sense, of New York’s transit system. But, like the hard-working capitalists in Rand’s novel, the subway gets no respect and little attention. The casual rider doesn’t appreciate it; the feds feed it last, after lavishing money on Georgia interstates and mining subsidies to Utah.

So that’s one way the subway relates to Atlas Shrugged. The second way the subway relates is less obvious, but more crucial. It’s that Ayn Rand was wrong! In Atlas Shrugged, she details her theory that capitalists, like her hero, John Galt-those out to make a buck-create all the value in the world, and the rest of us are just freeloaders. To Ayn Rand and all her libertarian, neoconservative soul brothers at the Cato and Manhattan institutes, the people who create value and prosperity in this world are the Mike Bloombergs and the Bill Gateses. Government is at best a necessary evil, there just to tidy up the manly work done by the capitalists.

Now this makes sense to sophomores in college and John Tierney on the Metro page of The Times, but it’s just flat wrong. The world we live in rests on a vast system of publicly funded (and usually publicly built) infrastructure. Sure, people start companies and do neat stuff. But they use workers who receive public education, and they get places on highways, planes and subways that government has either built or massively subsidized. The free market doesn’t create infrastructure, at least not very well. John Galt and the other capitalists in Atlas Shrugged depend on government to build a transportation infrastructure for them, educate their workers, and create a legal system that allows them to buy and sell. Government creates the infrastructure of capitalism: physical, intellectual and legal.

This is true in New York most of all. It’s no accident that New York, symbol of free-wheeling capitalism, has the most extensive and elaborate mass-transit system and social-welfare state. Compared to the rest of the country, New York is Sweden.

So who is this Atlas that’s carrying the world? It’s us, the taxpayers. And where does that leave us? In the hands of the politicians. The good news is that there are signs that Mayor Bloomberg gets it: He’s talked respectfully not only of the transit system, but of the parks, water mains and other systems that make our city work.

If we wanted to make this city even better, then the easiest way would be to pour money into the subway system first, and then the commuter rail, ferries and Amtrak. They are like blood lines to vital organs. A wish list would include the Second Avenue subway and bureaucratic changes like making the MetroCard common currency on all trains, ferries and buses, no matter what state they originate from.

But we shouldn’t just make the transit system more efficient; we should make it beautiful. It’s a sign of the hostility with which we regard public infrastructure that most of it looks like the underside of a kitchen sink. A few years back, I rode the new No. 14 subway line in Paris to the Biblioth’que Nationale, those giant glass bookends that sit over a cool subterranean complex. The subway fit right into this Schrager-like aesthetic. The platforms were separated from the open tracks by a wall of glass. When the train pulled in, its doors lined up with these glass walls, and the two opened together. It had other nice touches. The stations were actually works of architecture, both inside and out.

Our subways could be like that: marvels of both engineering and aesthetics. The Second Avenue subway line, which would take people from the Bronx all the way to lower Manhattan, could be a showcase of the best in design and architecture.

Even when factoring in the better economy and increasing population of New York, more people than expected have ridden the subways and buses in the last 15 years. Why? Probably because the subway cars are no longer covered with graffiti, the stations rarely smell of urine and the M.T.A. has spruced up the stations with new flooring, tiles and railings. That’s been wonderful, but it’s just a first step.

As we contemplate our post-9/11 future, we can choose to make our city a better place in ways that are both sensible and efficient. We don’t have to be like the late Ms. Rand; we can take the subway.

A Bicycle Can Get You From Here to There

That’s Good For You, Good For Everyone Else.

Wednesday, May 26, 1999
BY ALEX MARSHALL

I’m going to talk about bikes today. So I’m going to speak very slowly, so my colleague Dave, “I’ll get out of my car when they pry my cold dead hands from the steering wheel” Addis, will perhaps understand me.

It’s funny about bicycles. When I suggested a while back accommodating them more on local roads, Addis, who has become the leading supporter of the traffic-jammed, suburban status quo, could only think of Bejing or Bombay. Yellow and brown hordes on rusty bicycles jostling for space on dusty roads with chickens and stray dogs yapping at their heels. Who wants that?

A different image comes to my mind. I think of two of the wealthiest and most civilized cities on earth — Amsterdam and Copenhagen. In my travels there, I remember beautiful women in elegant skirts, and men wearing fine linen suits, bicycling along to work or shopping.

All that biking was good for the natives. In Copenhagen, I remember a grandmotherly women blithely pedaling by me as I, on my rented bicycle and anemic calves, struggled to keep up with her.

I think of Seattle — another wealthy, liveable city — where the buses have bike racks and people put up with the steady drizzle to ride bikes everywhere.

Bikes have about them the aura of the childish, the silly and the inconsequential. They needn’t. For trips of a few miles or less, bikes can be the perfect vehicle. They are easy, casual and convenient. Add a rack and you can carry a bag of groceries or a shopping bag.

We have the perfect terrain for bicycling. We are as flat as Holland, with better weather than Seattle or Copenhagen. But we build everything so reflexively for the car, we rule out other ways of getting around.

In Amsterdam and Copenhagen, something like a third of all trips are by bicycles. Last time I checked, Copenhagen planners were hoping to see this rise to 50 percent.

A lot of people using bicycles transforms cities. To state the obvious, it’s a lot easier to accommodate a rack of 10 bicycles in front of a store than a parking lot for 10 cars.

New Norfolk City Manager Regina Williams got this right away when I spoke to her about it. Every person that rides a bike is one not driving a car, she said. It frees up space on streets, and represents another parking space that does not have to be built. There is no reason downtown Norfolk could not have thousands of commuters, shoppers, students coming into downtown every day by bicycle. Older cities, with their densities and finer grained network of streets, are ideal for bicycles.

In Hampton Roads, Virginia Beach should be the worst place to bike and in a lot of ways is. A city built around high-speed corridors like Virginia Beach Boulevard will always have difficulty accommodating a guy on a bike. Still, the city has done a good job of including separate bike paths on some of its newer streets, like South Independence Boulevard around Green Run. It also has a wonderful route from Fort Story all the way out General Booth Boulevard in the newer suburbs.

Norfolk and Portsmouth are lousy places to bicycle. This is a tragedy because it should be the opposite. Their older, straighter and narrower streets with clear, right-angle intersections are safer and better for bicycles. A cyclist can mix with traffic on a Colley Avenue in Ghent, or around Olde Towne, without dread.

But the same cyclist will eventually come to one of the giant, high-speed highways, like Brambleton Avenue or London Boulevard, that have been ploughed through these cities without much thought. Even crossing one of these roads is difficult, much less biking in them.

A perfect example of this is at the corner of Brambleton Avenue and Botetourt Street on the edge of Freemason in Norfolk. You come across the Hague on the lovely footbridge from Ghent, originally built for streetcars, and are then faced with a raging river of highspeed traffic on Brambleton Avenue. No crosswalk. No stoplight. I have seen a dad with two little children, all on bikes, trying to dart their way across this rushing stream without getting killed. I fear someone will be eventually.

In the short term, Norfolk and other planners need to add cross walks, stop lights and other devises to accommodate bikes. In the longer run, planners need to narrow traffic lanes on major highways like Brambleton or Waterside Drive. Narrower traffic lanes slow down cars, and frees up space for bike lanes and on-street parking. Planners need to think about bikes as naturally as they now think about cars.

This isn’t just being nice. The middle-class rides bikes, and if Norfolk and Portsmouth wants more of them, or to keep the ones they have, they need to make it easier for them to pedal places.

Right now, Norfolk thinks about bikes last, if at all.

Why doesn’t the MacArthur Center Mall have any bike racks in front of it? This is such a natural and obvious thing to do, when parking is both tight and charged for, you have to wonder what was on their minds.

One hopeful sign. The redesigned Church Street in Norfolk includes bike lanes, one planner told me. That’s a great start. If we start including bikes in our thinking, there’s no reason we can’t be the Copenhagen of the East Coast. Automobile Addis might never leave his well-cushioned front-seat, but the rest of us would like to now and then.


The New Penn Station: When Will It Arrive?

The new Pennsylvania Station was originally due to open its doors this year, but the only noticeable progress has been the building’s renaming for its late benefactor, Sen. Daniel Patrick Moynihan. So what’s going on?

While months and even years have passed with little progress, the press has been largely silent. One exception to this was a recent piece in the New York Observer, in which the senator’s daughter, Maura Moynihan, announced the creation of The Citizens Committee for Moynihan Station. She feared the project would not happen without more public attention.

Some background: The late Senator, a believer in the power of great architecture and great transportation infrastructure, managed to obtain a big appropriation of money to convert the grand old Beaux-Arts James A. Farley U.S. Post Office on 33rd St. between 8th and 9th avenues into a new above-ground train station. It would augment and help open up the underground rabbit warren that is the present day station, which sits underneath Madison Square Garden and some office towers. The present day Penn Station would become largely for the commuter railways, while Amtrak passengers would use the above-ground station on the other side of Eighth Avenue.

Skidmore, Owings and Merrill has designed the new station, and the plans look great, with a dramatic steel and glass atrium breaking out of the middle of the block-long building. The effective Empire State Development Corporation, through its subsidiary Moynihan Station Development Corporation, is overseeing the project. Under the current plans, it will own the building and lease it out to tenants, including Amtrak and the Post Office, which will retain use of a portion.

“This project is happening, it’s moving forward,” said Charles Stump, vice president at the Moynihan Station Development Corporation. “Anytime you have a huge transaction, there are a lot of details to be worked out.”

Nevertheless, Stump acknowledged that a number of difficulties were slowing the project down. Empire State Development Corporation and the Post Office have signed a letter of intent for the Post Office to sell the property to the state of New York for $230 million, and one $10 million payment has already been made, Stump said. But the actual sale has not happened. Holding it back are disagreements over who will pay for what in the new station.

“The Post Office doesn’t want to pay for certain things that they think we should be responsible for, as landlords, and we think they should be responsible for costs that are associated with them,” Stump said. “There are a lot of open issues that are still being discussed.”

Another difficulty involves Amtrak, which is supposed to be “the anchor tenant,” Stump said. Amtrak’s relatively new president, David Gunn, is focusing on nuts and bolts issues like track repair, and is apparently reluctant to pay some of the costs of moving into the new station. In an interview recently, Gunn seemed to indicate the new station was not a priority.

Stump said he was confident these issues would be resolved by the fall, and he said the corporation planned to hire a developer for the project by December. But civic leaders, political officials and editorial writers should not sit back and passively wait. They should focus attention on this project, lest it get caught in unending bureaucratic battles.

There are several reasons why a new central train station is vital for the city’s and region’s future.

Breathing Space

The new Moynihan Station will not add more track capacity and if anything, it underscores the need for a new rail tunnel under the Hudson. But to anyone who has ever attempted to thread up and down the narrow staircases and escalators at the present Penn Station, onto or from narrow platforms, it will not be news that the present Penn Station is uncomfortable and unpleasant due to its tortuous internal circulation patterns. The numerous choke points show just how little thought was put into the station’s construction, in the aftermath of the destruction of the old Pennsylvania station in the mid 1960s.

The new Moynihan Station will resolve many of these problems by clearly separating commuter rail and inter-city train travel, allowing passengers of all sorts to move in a less congested and more coherent environment. This is no small thing.

The Far West Side

Relocating the region’s central inter-city train station and commuter rail station one avenue over to the West will boost the prospects of successfully developing the Far West Side. Although other transit projects are necessary to this redevelopment plan, a new central train station one avenue over will be a great portal to the West Side, significantly boosting the prospects of the development of the Far West Side.

Beyond Beauty

Vincent Scully, the esteemed architecture critic, famously wrote that with the old Pennsylvania station, “One entered the city like a god.” With its replacement, “One scuttles in now like a rat.” So very true. And it highlights the fact that the new Moynihan station would again give the nation a grand gateway into New York City, something the city has lacked for decades, and of which we could all be proud.

But we should not let this lead us to believe that these are simply questions of aesthetics, without practical importance. Ultimately, how something looks and feel affects how and whether people will use it. Under David Gunn’s leadership at NYC Transit, we saw that when stations are clean and more attractive, people used the subways more, surpassing planners’ projections.

A similar transformation can happen with train travel. There is clearly a need for good and better inter-city train travel in many parts of the country, but particularly the Northeast. Around 40 percent of Amtrak’s total passengers travel through Penn Station. But even people who are accustomed to the present underground maze find it a confusing and oppressive experience. The new Moynihan Station would be a way of not only introducing people to a great city in an appropriate manner, but to increasing the appeal of train travel. While I applaud Gunn’s focus on the basics, he should not overlook the importance of allowing passengers to move in a spacious and relaxed environment, and providing a new home to the nation’s central and busiest train station.

We should all keep our attention on the process to make sure it happens.

–Alex Marshall, Senior Fellow, Regional Plan Association


Wrestling the Beast called Sprawl

Written for the Conference: “Critics Talk About Smart Growth”
May 10-11, 2000
at The Pocantico Conference Center of the Rockefeller Brothers Fund
Sponsored by The Lincoln Institute of Land Policy in cooperation with
The Institute for Urban Design of New York City.

By Alex Marshall

In 1957, John Keats wrote the satirical portrayal of life in the suburbs, The Crack in The Picture Window. It tells the history of the then burgeoning suburbs by telling the history of “John and Mary Drone,” who take up residence in a series of awful developments around Washington D.C. In its scathing, vitriolic language, it was a rifle shot across the bow of the battleship of suburbia that was proceeding at full pace. Keats wrote in part:

“For literally nothing down . . . you too, . . . can find a box of your own in one of the fresh-air slums we’re building around the edge of America’s cities. . . inhabited by people whose age, income, number of children, problems, habits, conversation, dress, possessions and perhaps even blood type are also precisely like yours. . . [They are] developments conceived in error, nurtured by greed, corroding everything they touch. They destroy established cities and trade patterns, pose dangerous problems for the areas they invade, and actually drive mad myriads of housewives shut up in them.”

In 1993, almost 40 years later, James Howard Kunstler wrote The Geography of Nowhere. In its scathing, vitriolic language, it was, well, a rifle shot across the bow of the battleship of suburbia that was proceeding at full tilt. Kunstler speaks of: “the jive-plastic commuter tract home wastelands, the Potemkin village shopping plazas with their vast parking lagoons, the Lego-block hotel complexes, the gourmet mansardic’ junk-food joints, the Orwellian office parks’ featuring buildings sheathed in the same reflective glass as the sunglasses worn by chain-gang guards, . . .”

When we examine the writings on suburbia, what’s striking is how similar the criticism of it has been in style and substance for the last half century, or even longer. Since the burbs first began to be a home to the middle-class, they have been criticized as soulless, vapid places that depreciate the finer things in life and turn their residents into mindless robots of shopping and lawn maintenance. It would not difficult to find a missive similar to Keats and Kunstler in the latest round of Smart Growth dialogue in the year 2000.

Comparing Keats to Kunstler is so interesting, because the bulk of what Kunstler is criticizing hadn’t even been built yet when Keats was writing. As Kunstler says, “Eighty percent of everything ever built in America has been built in the last fifty years” and that includes most of suburbia. I wonder what Kunstler thinks of the subdivisions that Keats criticized, now shaded by trees and their roads worn by use?

To put it simply, we have been whining about sprawl and the suburbs for a long time. Given the apparent ineffectuality of “our” criticism, (we critics of sprawl,) we should define more precisely what we are criticizing, why we are criticizing it, and to what end.

The Gentle Roots of Sprawl

Robert Fishman, quoting Lewis Mumford, described the suburbs in his classic study, Bourgeois Utopias, as “a collective effort to live a private life.”

As Fishman and Delores Hayden of Yale have shown, early forms of suburbs appeared two centuries ago in England and the United States. Fishman describes how the successful banker or merchant uprooted his family from the din of central London to a neo-manor house with turrets on a cul-de-sac on the edge of town. He would take his carriage into town, leaving his wife and children secure in the harmony and God-filled nature and away from the godless realm of man. Given this history, we can say that the suburbs seem to have been a steady counterpoint to the turmoil of modernity, first in a light patter, and then a pounding drumbeat.

The suburbs for their first century and a half were imitations of the sheltered domains of the landed gentry before the industrial revolution. Said Mumford:

“From the beginning, the privileges and delights of suburbanism were reserved largely for the upper class; so that the suburb might almost be described as the collective urban form of the country house – the house in a park – as the suburban way of live is so largely a derivative of the relaxed, playful, goods-consuming aristocratic life that developed of the rough, bellicose, strenuous existence of the feudal stronghold. . . To be your own unique self; to build your unique house, amid a unique landscape; to live in this Domain of Arnheim a self-centered life, in which private fantasy and caprice would have license to express themselves openly, in short, to withdraw like a monk and live like a prince – this was the purpose of the original creators of the suburb.”

Whatever their assets or deficiencies aesthetically, the suburbs basically worked until they switched from being a luxury good to a staple. Sprawl was invented when the suburbs, with the deployment of the car and the highway, became an object of mass consumption. The suburbs only delivered the goods when a few people were buying them. When everyone tried to buy a house in the garden, you got a house in the middle of sprawl.

When everyone attempts to live like a prince, things get complicated. Suburbia for everyone meant its benefits – isolation, refuge, and proximity to the center – went to no one. Mumford showed his great vision by recognizing this dynamic at the beginning of the massive investment in highways in the 1950s that produced the bulk of sprawl, rather than today, a half century afterward.

“Thus the ultimate effect of the suburban escape in our time is, ironically, a low-grade uniform environment from which escape is impossible,” Mumford said in The City in History published in 1961. “Thus, in overcoming the difficulties of the overcrowded and over-extended city, the suburb proved to be both a temporary and a costly solution. As soon as the suburban pattern became universal, the virtues it at first boasted began to disappear.”

Mumford, in his brilliant essay “The Highway and The City” published in 1958, berated Congress for spending so much money on a one-dimensional transportation decision. He urged it to spread the money out over a variety of transportation systems, and so get a more nuanced environment. But he, the most respected writer on cities of his day, is here an accurate, and unheeded, Cassandra. He writes:

“For the current American way of life is founded not just on motor transportation but on the religion of the motorcar, and the sacrifices that people are prepared to make for this religion stand outside the realm of rational criticism. Perhaps the only thing that could bring Americans to their senses would be a clear demonstration of the fact that their highway program will, eventually, wipe out the very area of freedom that the private motorcar promise to retain for them. . . . That sense of freedom and power remains a fact today only in low-density areas, in the open country; the popularity of this method of escape has ruined the promise it once held forth. In using the car to flee from the metropolis the motorist finds that he has merely transferred congestion to the highway and thereby doubled it. When he reaches his destination, in a distant suburb, he finds that the countryside he sought has disappeared: beyond him, thanks to the motorway, lies only anther suburb, just as dull as his own.”

What we see in the last 50 years of criticism of the suburbs is a consistent inability to confront the meaning of such criticism. The suburbs might be awful, but don’t make us stop building them, or the highways that lead to their creation. Like a fat man told to push himself away from the ice-cream counter and onto the exercise bicycle, we have not been willing to do it. Instead, we bitch and moan and order up another scoop of Chocolate-Crunch Rocky-Road Double-Fudge Chip Swirl, please. We try different styles of suburbia, we try New Towns and New Urbanism. We try ordering up more berms, more shrubbery, or more front porches. We try everything, save for a few brave cities and states like Portland and Oregon, except saying enough.

Embracing or Spurning Sprawl and The Suburb

Rather than stopping the outward sprawl, there is a curious phenomena of redefining what the suburbs are, as people seek to avoid the label of living in them – or designing them. Like at times the labels of “Feminist,” “Liberal” or “New Age,” increasingly no one wants to be called a suburbanite. Even its designers disavow their creations. Ebenezer Howard, Frank Lloyd Wright, Le Corbusier, Jim Rouse, Andres Duany � they all helped create new forms of suburbia, even while they adamantly denied doing just that.

Rouse, designer of the planned, ultra-suburban “New Town” of Columbia built outside Washington D.C. in the late 1960s, declared passionately that the suburbs were the worst form of development. He was not building suburbs, he said, but “a city.” He spearheaded the “New Town” movement, which saw places like Reston, Columbia and even Irvine, Ca. as antidotes to sprawl, not more of it.

In Business Week in 1966, Rouse spoke in words that Duany, the neo-traditionalist, would use a generation later almost verbatim. Rouse said that “Sprawl is inefficient, ugly. Worse of all it is inhuman. . . . There has been too much emphasis on the role of the architect as an artist, not enough on his role as a social servant. . . . The suburb is the most controlled environment you can have. A kid can’t do anything without a parent. How many kids in the massive sprawl around the big city can walk or bike to school, to a concert or music lesson, to a stream to fish, or to the movies?”

Driving today around the planned community of Columbia, with its swooping curves, separated shopping centers and a big enclosed shopping mall as the “downtown,” Columbia is the embodiment of the suburban ideal and form. Will the same be said of New Urban subdivisions like Kentlands and Celebration in 25 years? The New Urbanists shun the label “suburban” and call their creations dug out of farm fields “urban.” That these places, located miles from the center city, low in density, completely isolated, limited in their affordability, dependent upon the car, composed almost entirely of homeowners and with few if any businesses, could be called urban is the height of absurdity. Even worse is the idea that they will help solve sprawl. They are sprawl.

Given the ubiquity of sprawl, it’s tempting to conclude that it isn’t really a problem. After all, the suburbs have bought us the largest and the cheapest homes in the developed world. Only in the United States can a middle-class family afford a 3,000-foot home with four or five bedrooms. In the past, only the aristocracy could afford such space. That’s the principal achievement of sprawl. Mammoth amounts of personal space to the middle 50 percent of Americans in income. Not spoken of is that the bottom 25 percent live in worse conditions than in Europe or Japan, both in terms of income and is terms of housing, health care and general environment. Sprawl may be a part of the American decision to have a less equitable society overall. We embrace the private realm of suburbia, while rejecting the public realm of national health care, comprehensive family leave and child care, and other examples of more communal systems.

The downside of sprawl is the loss of things public. We have lost physical community, because car-centered culture is more individual and less group oriented. We have lost something hard to define, which I will call “Place.” We have lost easy access to nature and open space. We have lost the ability to bicycle on a country road without traffic. We have lost coherence. We have lost diversity and flexibility of our transportation systems, one which would have treated old, young, and poorer people more gently. We have harmed our environment. These losses can be quantified, but many still go back to feelings and perceptions that are subjective. It is simply not as fun living in a place that stretches across hundreds of square miles, where the country side is inaccessible, where simple errands require braving traffic, where the alternative to driving is personal isolation.

When I was young, my dad used to advise me on the dynamics of buying a pizza. A 16-inch pizza, he would tell me soberly, was almost twice as big as a 12 inch pizza, even though it was only four-inches bigger and only a dollar or two more. To put it lightly, the pizza pie of our metropolitan areas, all bubbly with car dealerships, subdivisions and highways, has grown enormously in the last half century. Places like Los Angeles and Atlanta are coming close to the title of that Deyan Sudjic book a few years ago, The 100 Mile City.

Making Real Choices

Given our confused relationship with sprawl and suburbia, how can we proceed with greater clarity in the future? I propose a few simple rules to keep in mind.

1.Transportation Matters.

Allow me to say something provocative, which is: It is conceptually very easy to control or even stop sprawl. Simply stop building or widening roads on the periphery of metropolitan areas. Even without throwing in a moratorium on extending water and sewer connections, low-density development would dry up in a decade or so without the benefit of new freeway off-ramps, or new suburban boulevards cutting through virgin farmland, or the latest widening of a traffic-congested road that now gives a little breathing space into the commute.

If a region could control nothing else, controlling the transportation systems would still be an adequate tool to shape development. Land use laws, like zoning, are secondary to the effects of a transportation system. Suburban development depends on public roads and highways. And no one has denied that the public has a right to control public expenditures.

If one accepts this, then one accepts that controlling or limiting sprawl is a political challenge, not a design, engineering or aesthetic one. The simplest way to control sprawl would be to shift 50 percent of highway funding on a state and national level into trains, subways, streetcars, buses, bicycle paths and sidewalks. Sure this is difficult, but that gets back to politics.

Transportation decisions are the important ones. Growth boundaries are great tools, but in the long run they are just as important in saying where transportation dollars will be spent, as where private development can occur. I’ve sometimes wondered if all the fights over zoning are an elaborate ruse to cover up the real decisions being made by the various state departments of transportation. They are the real designers of cities today.

We might also arrive at more realistic decisions about growth if we use the term “subsidy” more carefully. Often, suburban growth said to be “subsidized” by government, as if there were some forms of growth that were not subsidized. In reality, government “subsidizes” all forms of growth because it makes the principal transportation decisions and pays for them. The construction of subway lines in New York city, with government help, “subsidized” the manufacture of Queens and Brooklyn and the upper West Side. In the 19th century, the federal government massively fueled the construction of railroads by giving away federal land. Government usually build place through transportation choices. Rather than debate subsidies, it might be more helpful to debate what kind of cities and places we want, and whether we are willing to pay for them.

2. Good Design Will Not Solve Sprawl.

When the word “design” is used in public debate over sprawl, it often refers to design on the level of the house, street or neighborhood. Andres Duany, the leader of the neo-traditionalists school, advocates a neat set of streetwidths, set-back rules and house types that will be a counterpoint to the wide boulevards, big front yards, and garage-door fronted houses of conventional suburbia.

But this emphasis on design is misplaced, unless we start talking of design on the level of the metropolitan area or state. The overall urbanism of a city is defined through much larger systems than the design of individual streets or even neighborhoods.

To give an example: Haussmann in Paris in the 1850s did a good job re-constructing Paris. It was a better-designed city than say Manchester. But both were urban in very similar ways. The transportation systems and economic context created their urbanity. The same holds true in the 20th century. Columbia, Md is a better designed suburb than that standard Washington subdivision shaken out of the box. But both are equally suburban. The residents of Columbia might have a better aesthetic experience, but the rhythms of their lives revolve around their car and differ little from those of their neighbors in more standard subdivisions.

We can widen this concept of design to include “codes,” “zoning,” and all the usual suspects in the Who-Dunnit list of sprawl. In many of the efforts to redirect city planning, there has been a misplaced emphasis on codes and zoning, as if they caused our cities to be laid out a particular way.

This is a seductive argument at first. Usually, zoning and codes require the standard suburban form of separated uses, lots of parking, wider streets and so-forth. But in reality, zoning and codes no more produce sprawl than a posted speed limit causes cars to drive fast. Codes and zoning are more akin to a mechanism that tidies up around the edges of a system, then a recipe book that determines the outcome. The essential dynamic of the suburbs, which is separation of uses, and the inner cities, which is mixed-use, is determined by their transportation systems.

The codes, from zoning to parking and setback rules and street widths, can screw up a good urban place, but they cannot produce an urban place by themselves. Let’s imagine, for example, that the standard suburban rules requiring so many parking spaces for so many square feet of retail or office space were imported to Manhattan. This is an absurd example, but useful to make a point. What would happen if this were done? It would screw Manhattan thoroughly up, wrecking the fabric of the city and degrading the urbanism. But, and here’s the important point, if I eliminated such requirements in Long Island I would not produce New York City or even a interesting facsimile of it. I would simply be left in a suburban environment with no place to park. Unless I put in a mass transit system at the same time.

3. Political and Public Decisions, not Private Ones.

Sprawl is occurring in every developed country in the world. The roots of sprawl lie in the dynamic of the car and the state-sponsored investments to facilitate its use, not just in American bad taste. In Copenhagen, you can drive outside the city and find shopping malls, gas stations with attached quickie-marts, and the usual accoutrements of the suburbs. Even if in cuter, Danish form. The urban planners complain about the suburbs having “all the money,” and the central city having “all the problems.”

Sound familiar?

But Europeans have done a better job at controlling sprawl, because they accept something obvious. That sprawl is created because of a mismatch between the private desires of individuals, and their public desires. We all want the nice house right outside the city, even if none of us want sprawl. Which means in economic terms, “a market failure,” thus requiring government oversight and direction.

The political challenge has been so difficult because it puts Americans into conflict with an essential thesis of the American dream and laissez-faire capitalism. The American dream, going back to the images of unwashed masses arriving to our shore, is built on the concept that individuals pursuing their own interest not only makes things better for them, it makes things better for everyone. You do what you want, I do what I want, within a marginal set of rules of fair play, and we all end up better off. Adam Smith’s invisible hand lifts all boats. It’s magical. Only it doesn’t work with sprawl. As Alex Krieger of Harvard says, “Most sprawl is caused by people fleeing sprawl.” That’s a statement worth savoring awhile.

In fact, everyone seeking their own self-interest often pushes down, and sometimes sinks, all boats. Environmental destruction is one example; traffic jams and runs on banks are another. Still another example is the increase in violent crime caused by the proliferation of guns. One person with a gun is arguably safer; but many people with a gun are all collectively less safe. But we resist this simple truth because its collectivist orientation is so contrary to our American myth and ethos of individualism.

The causes and the cures of sprawl are controlled by political decisions. Eric Monkkonen, in his book America Becomes Urban, says we should not fall into the fallacy of thinking that the form of cities and places is an unstoppable byproduct of innovations in technology. He uses the example of Los Angeles, which people say was shaped by the automobile. This, he says, is like saying “chunks of hot metal cause death by bleeding” instead of “thousands of Americans deliberately kill one another each year.”

With Los Angeles, Monkkonen says, it was the “political aggression” of the city that enabled it to extend street-car lines, build roads and take in new territory after the turn of the century. “The [technological] determinists forget that political action was the necessary prior step for technological change. . . Of far greater historical and contemporary importance than the shaping power of transportation technology have been the enormous political, social, and economic efforts by governments — local, state, and federal — to promote them and make them functional. In fact, very little urban history has unfolded in the purely rational way that the technological determinist model implies.” When automobiles were first invented in the late 19th century, they were little more than interesting toys, Monkkonen said. It was not until local and state governments committed to paving the then generally unpaved roads that the automobile was able to spread from the hobbyist to the general public. And good roads, Monkkonen reminds us, “are purely political creations.”

Smart Growth 

In seeking to control sprawl, the regional and national decisions are the important ones. The roots of sprawl are in the pattern of U.S. spending on transportation at a national level, combined with regional and state decisions and spending on transportation, growth and general infrastructure. The Smart Growth movement can help us affect these decisions if it keeps its rigor.

In March at the Smart Growth conference at M.I.T. sponsored by The Lincoln Land Institute, Chris Nelson of the Georgia Institute of Technology proposed a series of rules by which we evaluate “Smart Growth” proposals, policies and developments. They were helpful for imposing some criteria to judge whether or not growth is indeed “Smart.” A very good thing for journalists would be to use this framework when new development is proposed, and it is attempted to be labeled “Smart Growth.”

Nelson’s criteria included: Does it conform to a regional framework? Does it prevent expansion of the urban fringe? Include transit? Channel development into already disturbed areas? Have a net average density of six to seven units an acre?

We should battle the real tigers of sprawl rather than the paper ones. Should we choose not to, then we should stop our whining, and accept the world we have created. For truly, we have chosen it.

Alex Marshall, an independent journalist, is a Loeb Fellow at Harvard through June 2000. His first book: How Cities Work: Suburbs, Sprawl and The Roads Not Taken is being published by The University of Texas Press and will be on shelves this fall. A former staff-writer for The Virginian-Pilot in Norfolk, Marshall’s work has been published in Metropolis, The New York Times Magazine, Architecture, The Washington Post, Salon, George, Planning and other publications.

Why We Shoot Each Other

By Alex Marshall
April 2001

Some school kid will shoot some other school kids again soon, and thus provide an adequate “hook” for this article. I was worried that it had been too long since the last schoolyard massacre – at least several weeks – for people to care about what I say on the subject. But I needn’t worry. Another will be along soon.

It’s difficult to identify causes or cures for the random violence that erupts in our schools, malls and office buildings. I would like to suggest some that are perhaps less intuitive than gun control or less violence on television, valid as these may be.

I would like to mention subjects such as national health care. Better leave policies when families have children. Higher minimum wages. Stronger protection for injured workers. More equal school funding. Publicly financed elections.

What, I can hear you saying, have these to do with kids killing kids in schoolyards? It’s not as if someone picked up a gun because OSHA didn’t protect workers from repetitive motion injuries?

Not directly, but there are fewer degrees of separation than one might think. For the last generation, we have steadfastly refused to do things that give us some responsibility for the well being of each other. We have refused, over and over, to be our brother’s keeper.

Measures like national health care or family leave are the true test of community. Are we willing to limit our own actions for a greater good? Are we willing to share a burden? Are we willing, in the case of health care, to limit our fees if we are doctors, our premiums if we are insurance salesmen, our access to specialized health care if we are rich?

We have been tempted. We almost passed national health care, but “we” decided, after hearing scary stories by various special interests, that we just weren’t ready. We did pass a very weak Family Leave act. We have passed a few, limited gun control measures. But by and large, we have not. Most recently, “we,” that is the new Bush administration, rejected worker safety measures that would have given us responsibility for people injured through typing or whacking chickens.

And how does this relate to a teenage kid killing people in California, to name a recent news item? Quite simply, our insistence on pursuing individualistic, competitive solutions to every problem is producing a society that is individualistic and competitive. It is producing a society that tells people, including kids, you’re all alone. It’s every man for himself. If you can’t make it, tough luck.

We are a very rich society, yet we still have more poor people, worse schools, longer working hours and less adequate health care than other first world country.

The California kid who last month picked up a gun after being teased was a manifestation of this society where every man, woman and kid is on his own. I can almost hear that kid telling that to himself, as he grabbed his father’s gun.

We Americans like to think of ourselves as valuing family and community. But France and Germany have far greater protection for families, and far greater respect for the rights of a community. It’s telling that Europe has strong limits on how corporations can use information acquired over the Internet. We do not.

We tend to rely on markets to solve common problems, which means competition of individuals and companies. We reject cooperation. This runs like a theme through every major public policy issue. We deregulate utilities, airlines, TV cable companies, all in a belief that a frenzy of competition for money will somehow produce a greater good for everyone.

But it doesn’t always work that way. Adam Smith’s invisible hand sometimes pushes everyone down, instead of lifting them up. Or it sometimes pushes most of us down, and just a few of us up. “Market failure” is far more common than economists like to admit, as anyone who has paid a $1,000 for a short airline hop will know.

Gun control is, of course, one example of our refusal to cooperate, to give up individual liberties and choices for the sake of the common good. We are as addicted to guns as the worst alcoholic is to his whiskey. It is so tellingly clear that we need to control, manage, order, track and regulate guns and those who own them. Yet, we resist. Our government is our government, so we can’t blame the politicians without blaming ourselves. They do what we tell them to do, ultimately. And if they aren’t doing it, that means we aren’t telling them forcefully enough.