Sunday, January 13, 2013

Rethinking Suburban Living

So now I want to move.

Not move away, but to a neighborhood that honors community and place.

The past few weeks, while reading James Howard Kunstler's The Geography of Nowhere, I find myself cursed with a heightened awareness of the disastrous effects of short-sighted, automobile-centric, suburban planning.

The bleak vision of this book lies in how Kunstler illustrates, through many examples, how towns have been ruined by poor planning and zoning codes which have separated people from the real function of the town.

For example, most suburban areas have separated residential, commercial, and educational zones.  You might find a school in a residential neighborhood, but you won't find a general store in a residential neighborhood.  Of course, you wouldn't find single-family residences within industrial zones either.  That's probably a good thing, keeping say homes clear of the UOP plant, right?

Kunstler calls for "new urbanist" developments that integrate residential and commercial use.  And these communities will be developed to encourage walking and bike-riding as principal modes of transport within the community. 

Today, for example, I had to get some packing tape.  Out of habit I got in my car, and drove down to the dollar store (about 1/2 mile) to get the item I was looking for (and a few others I couldn't pass up).


Also, today I took my dog for a walk through the local park and through some of the sidewalks in my neighborhood.  Sure it was cold and there were some NFL playoff games on, but on my walk I encountered NO ONE.  There is no reason for anyone to walk, unless they, like me, are just exercising their dog.

There are no natural gathering places in my neighborhood.  The park is sprawling and the commercial centers are on the far ends of a busy main arterial street (Golf Road).  95% of the time I go to the commercial center for groceries or other household items, I drive (30% of the time, ironically, I get gas!).  

The warning Kunstler gives is multi-layered.  First, Americans are becoming compartmentalized and alienated from community by the way our towns are set up as slaves to the automobile culture.  We are naturally social beings, yet we live in a way that does not honor our need and desire for community. Second, eventually our way of life will implode - we need a plan for when the oil runs out.  We need to cut down on automobile emissions.  We need to be be better stewards of our earth before it's too late.  This may be the most difficult step.  Collectively, Americans especially, we have a lot of ingrained habits that have led us to this point.  Change means less driving.  Change means a "redo" on many of our current neighborhood plans. Change means rethinking and reevaluating our current quality of life in different terms. 

Hope is out there.  Kunstler devotes the last chapter to identifying movements that are bucking the "suburban sprawl" trend and individuals who are leading the way to develop communities that embrace pre-automobile values.  Here are two to check out:

So, what's happening locally?  The Chicago Metropolitan Agency for Planning recognizes the need for new planning for better livability.  At least there is a plan in place, right?  It seems like a lot of partnerships between local business, city government, and real estate developers will need to happen in order to proceed with these "looks-good-on-paper" plans.  

The name of the plan?  GO TO 2040.  

Let's hope by then it's not too late.



Friday, January 4, 2013

Driven to Drive

So, it seems my prediction from last blog is true.  There is no other technology that shapes suburban life like the automobile.  Period.

I am discovering that The Geography of Nowhere is somewhat about the banality of the suburban landscape.  It is much more about how we live in our automobile-driven society and why we live where we do.  We've been sold a bill of goods that has preaches that our suburban life is the latest version of the ever-elusive-but-always-pursued "American Dream".  What startles me reflecting on it is how our present way of life is one ironically chasing after a bucolic ideal while finding ourselves mired in a lifestyle that is as fast-paced and stressful as any we can imagine.  In looking for restful peace we chase after restless business.

As it turns out, everything about suburban culture as we know it seems to have been driven by the automobile.  

Henry Ford made the automobile affordable to the masses.  When the Great Depression hit, you could buy a Model T for less than $300 (down from over $800 when they first came out).  The car represented freedom.  The car also represented profits.  If everyone can afford a car, then businessmen like Ford would surmise that everyone should have one.  If everyone can afford a pair of jeans, then everyone should have one.  If everyone can afford a waffle iron, then every family should have one.  Fill in the blank - there you have the American consumer-driven economy.  But first and foremost, you need a car to get to the store to buy the things you can now afford to buy because you can buy them.

Did you know: General Motors bought many of the privately owned streetcar companies in major cities in order to dismantle tracks and replace streetcars with bus routes.

Did you know: Robert Moses almost single-handedly transformed Long Island from a countryside haven into a massive parking lot with his aggressive and short-sighted development of highways and bridges that spurred unchecked growth.

Did you know: After WWII, the Federal Housing Authority awarded many veterans favorable mortgage deals in new suburban developments as many families moved from the cities to the suburbs. (Correction: white veterans)

Okay - I'm spreading my ideas thin here, but what I am learning is that the automobile industry; in concert with tire companies, oil companies, and steel companies; have basically led us to live a life of consumption.  Working so we can afford to buy cars to get to work.  Working so we can buy gas for the cars.  Working so we can afford to make payments on our house that has a garage for our car.  Working so we can drive our car to the store to buy products for our house in the suburbs.  Working so we can afford in-home entertainment to further isolate ourselves in our homes and alienate ourselves from our neighbors.  

The thing is, we can never work enough to have enough - and the car drives us to drive more.

Land transformed for driving and parking.