The year is 2010. The financial distress of the Commons project has caused some of the land formerly allotted for the park to be sold back to its original lenders, who plan to develop high end housing and office space. Property values, while rising high enough to drive out most small businesses and low income residents, nevertheless failed to increase at a rate which would cover payments on the bonds which funded the project. The city was forced to dip into funds which were earmarked for open space and housing in order to keep the Commons district afloat. The expensive housing stock has attracted a new type of resident not predisposed to set foot onto public transit. Because of this, millions of dollars spent on highway redevelopment and a new rapid rail link have left the area even more congested than before.
The Seattle Commons: utopia or dystopia? It all depends on who you talk to. At the moment we are not given the choice to contemplate both sides of the debate. Most of the Seattle media and its business and political elite have fallen into a characteristic groupthink which precludes vigorous analysis and public discussion. In this climate, potential problems of the Commons remain submerged in an atmosphere which sees this proposal as a flawless fait accompli.
The city is in the process of developing its Comprehensive Plan. Commons backers - who encompass a wide range of the city's old as well as up-and-coming elites - want their vision to become part of that plan. But as the plan develops, and as support for some version of Mayor Norm Rice's urban villages grows, we ought to pause to examine the project that, for good or evil, may become a template for Seattle's urban future.
Backers of the Commons seek to resuscitate the Seattle legacy of can-do volunteerism in the public interest. But opponents - neighborhood activists and advocates of citizen-led environmental planning - see this project as an end-run around democracy and local control. They are critical of the way this project was cooked up by elites, completely bypassing neighborhoods and local residents. While the Commons touts itself as a grassroots organization, it is clear that some of the grass roots are more equal than others. Is this Perot-style democracy, with a small circle making the decisions, while an army of willing volunteers is brought along for the ride? (See related story)
Part of the potential problems of the plan arise from its grandiose scale. The high financial and political profile of some Commons backers, and their early successes in obtaining seed money for the project, encouraged advocates to tackle a mind-boggling array of problems. The Commons group quickly moved from a goal of building a Seattle equivalent of Central Park - itself a monumental undertaking - to one of solving long-festering traffic problems, and planning for the housing and employment needs for a 450-acre expanse ringing the proposed park.
For example, up to a third of the project money - $150 million - is allotted to solving the "Mercer mess" by re-routing traffic and freeway access. The housing plan envisions creating a neighborhood that would be a home for up to 15,000 people.
William Carey of Urban Ecology, an institute dedicated to environmentally sustainable and democratic urban planning, calls the Commons "grand planning on an imperial scale." This very high minded, even ethereal vision of the most prominent Commons supporters manages to gloss over some of the more serious potential problems of this proposal.
Consider for a moment the Tax Increment Financing (TIF) method proposed to pay for its $450 million price tag. This method, which would dedicate all increases in tax revenues in the surrounding area to paying off the bonds which fund the project, puts the city in the business of encouraging land speculation. This method of financing creates an urgent need for the most rapid escalation of area property values. This in turn contradicts city Comprehensive Plan goals of retaining jobs and businesses, and providing for adequate low-income housing. It also skims money out of the city's general revenue fund.
John Fox, director of the low-income housing advocacy group the Seattle Displacement Coalition, notes that "All added tax revenues - not just those generated by the specific redevelopments financed by TIF - are diverted from all property owners to pay for the TIF funded redevelopment, including those otherwise earmarked for counties, cities, emergency services, other taxing districts such as the port, and our public school system."
TIF developments that fail to cover their own costs then require a bailout from general revenues, or an extension of the repayment period. Fox notes that a recent study of TIF districts in Minnesota showed that this occurred half of the time. Given the inevitable cost overruns of a large undertaking such as the Commons, this outcome is close to a certainty.
The housing portion of the plan is particularly worrying given the city's generally poor substantive record - as opposed to its verbal commitments - in ensuring that housing is available to the most vulnerable. The Commons plan calls for the creation of "low-cost," but not necessarily "low-income" housing. This difference is crucial. The provision or retention of low-income housing means the difference between shelter and the street for many people. But the need for rapid property tax escalation militates against affordability.
The Commons board has only reluctantly responded to the needs for low-income housing retention. They've created a voluntary 200,000 low income housing fund, the amount of which would at present not purchase more than a couple three bedroom homes in one of Seattle's "affordable" neighborhoods. This afterthought voluntarism is no match for the inevitable destruction of affordable housing which would occur under the current Commons scenario. Commons backers have failed to explain how low income housing can be reconciled with TIF, and they have also failed to come up with a transition plan which would meet even the minimal standards of "no net less" of low income residences.
The employment transition receives a similar short shrift from the Commons team. While the area is already on its way to becoming a haven for biotech and other advanced industries, there is very little attention paid to maintaining the service sector employment currently located in the area. What will prevent these industries from going out of business or relocating outside of the city, thus draining away needed tax revenues? Again, the Commons plan leaves the city to solve - or to neglect - the important goal of retaining a broad mix of employment within its boundaries.
Proponents of lesser Seattle have often been better at obstruction than in providing alternatives. But the Commons plan has sparked some interesting ideas which have been given less attention because they they are not backed by similar financial and political clout.
Carey of Urban Ecology argues that a more park-like Cascade neighborhood could result from incremental development of pocket parks, linked together by the resuscitation of a paved-over downtown creek. He also argues that many of the existing buildings in the area can be built up and renovated, which would increase density and provide additional housing while conserving resources.
Local property owner Mike Foley, along with the South Lake Union Planning Project, has provided an alternative plan which emphasizes the worthy goal of redeveloping Seattle Center while creating a park-like corridor linking the Center to the Lake. The Commons proposal has also sparked the reestablishment of the Cascade Neighborhood Council, whose members are now actively involved in working to retain the area's social integrity.
There is no reason to assume that these alternative voices are intrinsically more legitimate than those of the Commons backers. Perhaps some version of the Commons plan would emerge as a clear winner after a full and critical debate. But now is the time to give full attention to the entire range of voices, including those who see the Commons as nothing but a grandiose boondoggle.
Whatever the outcome of the Commons project, it has clearly sparked a process which focuses attention on planning for an area in the process of rapid transition. The worst possible outcome for the Cascade neighborhood would be laissez faire piecemeal development, an inexorable marching forward of glass box offices and exclusive housing, as what is happening in Belltown.
But the Commons plan as currently structured contains measures which threaten to weaken the city's economic and social fabric. A little more democracy, and a bit of humility, would go a long way toward ensuring that the city moves forward towards a truly common future.
Mark Gardner is a doctoral candidate in political science at the University of Washington. He has worked with the Economic Policy Institute in Washington, DC.