Do you see urban decay? Can you even tell it’s in an urban setting? The Bergen Arches constitute a right-of-way slated for capital construction.

The New Jersey Department of Transportation’s 2002 report (a “final draft”) on the Arches ennumerated these potential usages:

FREIGHT RAIL (alternative F1): A new dual-track freight rail line through the Bergen Arches would connect the Northern Branch Line west of the Palisades with the National Docks Secondary Line east of the Palisades.

TRANSIT (alternative T1): A new dual-track light rail line through the Bergen Arches would connect the existing Hudson-Bergen light rail line with the NJ Transit-Secaucus Junction station.

TRANSIT (alternative T2): Same as alternative T1, except that the light rail line would be extended northwest of Secaucus Junction to the Meadowlands.

TRANSIT (alternative T3): A new two-lane busway through the Bergen Arches would connect 11th Street in Jersey City with the new EXIT 15X on the New Jersey Turnpike (I-95). It also would provide connections to the NJ Transit-Secaucus Junction station.

ROADWAY (alternative R1): A new four-lane roadway with no shoulders, or three-lane roadway with shoulders, would be built from the EXIT 15X on the New Jersey Turnpike (I-95) through the Bergen Arches east to Jersey City. The two-lane roadways would diverge at its eastern terminus, with eastbound traffic exiting onto 11th Street and westbound traffic entering the Bergen Arches roadway at 18th Street.

ROADWAY (alternative R2): Same as alternative R1, but traffic would enter and exit the roadway at the eastern terminus through a widened 6th Street.

ROADWAY (alternative R3): Same as alternative R1, but traffic would enter and exit the roadway at the eastern terminus through a widened 18th Street.

MIXED-MODE (alternative M1): Same as alternative T1, except that the right-of-way would accommodate a dual-track light-rail line, flanked by a bus lane in each direction.

MIXED-MODE (alternative M2): Same as alternative R1 (New Jersey Turnpike to 11th Street / 18th Street; alternative M2 would be built as a four-lane facility. However, the inner lanes would be restricted to buses and HOV+3 vehicles (three or more occupants) during peak periods.

MIXED-MODE (alternative M3): Same as alternative R1 (New Jersey Turnpike to 11th Street / 18th Street; alternative M2 would be built as a three-lane facility. However, the center lane would be used as a reversible bus / HOV+3 lane during peak periods.

Alternatives T2 and T1 seem ideal, and T3 as well to some extent. The Hudson-Bergen Light Rail (HBLR) traverses a large area along the shore. But  the northern terminus has no connection to the  New Jersey Transit Commuter Rail; the only such connection exists at Hoboken Terminal — in the middle of the HBLR “main trunk.”

How important could this link be? Well, proper connections between “local” (HBLR) and “long distance” (commuter rail) are what allow suburbs to thrive. New York’s subway system connects with the Long Island Railroad at three main junctures (soon to be a fourth — maybe), and this is what allows Long Island to politely siphon off New York City jobs. The connection allows tourism to flow in both directions, and even if New York City carries more weight than Long Island, it is still a mutually beneficial relationship.

But thanks to the 2002 report, the plan with the most steam behind it is M2, a four-lane roadway with the inner lanes restricted to buses and carpooling vehicles — during peak hours only. This immediately ran into opposition, as it rightly should, as it seems to be a solution which only favors commercial transport interests.

Right now, the project is in a state of limbo, partially because there was never a consensus, but also because no one has any money to attempt capital construction at the moment. In a 2003 Federal Appropriations Report (page 15), there is a line indicating that $5,225,000 was allocated for a needs assessment on the “Bergen Arches rail cut through Jersey City Palisades.” We’ll have to wait and see what might happen.

What exactly did the amendment entail? A few people misunderstood the amendment, charging that it would change what the definition of a “family” was. It actually changed, or rather, clarified, the definition of what a family wasn’t.

Only a group constituting a “family” can be theoretically limitless (aside from health or safety violations) in occupying a “dwelling unit,” or “a room or group of rooms forming a habitable unit for one family, or one group residence limited as defined…”

That “as defined” takes us back to “family.” The aforementioned group of full-time undergraduates are declared to not “constitute a family,” and hence, can be subject to occupation limits. The new occupancy limit for that group was set to four.

A few developers spoke out, off the record mostly, that this code would not stand up to a legal challenge. They’re probably right, but they didn’t challenge it.

Urban planning classes will usually subliminally teach you that developers are evil, evil people. So if they’re for it, you have to wonder: who was the ordinance meant to protect?

The developers knew that the college students (and their parents, or the universities subsidizing their units) were willing to pay more for the same unit than the people they were going to push out. So the developers were better off with this ordinance passing.

What of the neighborhood folk of Boston, who seemed to overwhelmingly support it? Well, they seemed to be running simply on a distaste of rambunctious college students escaping their quarantined campuses of heathenism and infiltrating their peaceful neighborhoods.

But they should have been pushing for a lower number than four, to attempt to make the model less profitable for the developers, and thus deterring them. Or better yet, they should have continued their fight to make the colleges expand their dorm facilities on campus, instead of simply building athletics facilities left and right, as is the trend.

The neighborhood residents made the mistake of acting on a gut feeling. The opportunity to limit the number of hooligans per unit to a mere four was too good to pass up. And in this way, they won a small battle. But they absolutely forfeited the war. They set a precedent for those “post secondary educational institution[s]” to be in cahoots with developers so long as it is a quick fix for the former (cheaper and easier than mass-construction) and a profitable model for the latter.

The ordinance was masqueraded as a compromise, but it wasn’t. The “evil” (perhaps “cunning” is a fairer word) developers knew better, and bit their tongues.

Reference: Article 2A, Boston Zoning Code and Enabling Act [PDF]

Wang ran into some problems, though. Kate Murray, the Hempstead Town Supervisor who oversees the re-zoning necessary for the project to go through, had no support for the project up until recently. Wang was threatening to bail on Long Island all together if he didn’t get the project. It’s hard to blame him, and even harder to understand Murray’s opposition. Who wouldn’t want to keep a team that won 4 Stanley Cups in the 1980’s, in a county with an otherwise stagnant economy?

But tucked in the supporter’s push for this project is a vision for a new suburban model. Says Nassau County Executive Thomas Suozzi:

We don’t want to be postsuburban. We don’t want to be a new urbanism. We want to be a new suburbia. We want to keep the good stuff about suburbia and get rid of the bad stuff about suburbia. But the old model of suburbia began 60 years ago with Levittown. It’s no longer sustainable.

Postsuburban is what Nassau County is bordering on, and it isn’t pretty: a lifeless economy, high taxes, and a surprising quantity of suburban slums.

What is “New Suburbia”? Apparently, it’s a model in which all the residential areas stay the same, but have a wonderful complex to drive to as they so desire. The Lighthouse Project would be one of several economic “magnets,” and hopefully after enough of these are built, the Long Island economy would be not just sustainable but prosperous from the tourist/tax revenues.

The Lighthouse Project. There isn't much variation in stadium/complex building these days; compare the "Lighthouse" to the proposed Atlantic Yards complex.

What’s wrong with that model? Probably everything. It assumes a never-ending flow of capital to build massive projects. It also assumes people will want to go to these attractions once they’re up; there’s no guarantee a project won’t flop. It encourages and reinforces a car-heavy mode of transportation. Is this what New Suburbia is supposed to be?

It seems like incorporating elements of New Urbanism is Nassau’s only shot at being sustainable.  If New Suburbia attempts to masquerade as “smart growth,” it’s being unrealistic. The problem with suburbia is not the lack of attractions, but rather the poor utilization of public space. Any plan which calls for just as much parking space as public space is a waste. Greater transportation access, coupled with expanded and beautified public space, can do wonders for an economy.

It seems like some of the opposition to New Urbanism comes from those afraid that it will somehow intrude on their way of life. They’re not entirely wrong — by its definition, their community would have to change in some capacity. But Long Islanders holding steadfast opposition to these pockets of urban life are doing themselves more harm than good in the long run. Traditional suburban life isn’t sustainable, and needs to change to survive, let alone flourish.

Urban vice isn’t going to ruin your neighborhood. Suburban stubbornness will.

As it stands now, contemporary zoning laws divvy up land into lots, and then those lots into different uses (commercial, industrial, commercial), ideally, to shield the public from unsafe living conditions. But zoning overrides and loosely-defined categories which aim to maintain the “character of the neighborhood” allow for too many loopholes. As long as the developers gain approval from the city planning commission (state overrides help as well; see: Atlantic Yards Development), considerations of a project’s benefit to a community are pushed to the back-burner.

A somewhat radical solution seems appropriate: a new zoning overlay over the existing map, providing for protection from mass-development across continuously situated lots. It is this distinction, and not the easily overridden or otherwise transgressed “type of use” restrictions, that would truly protect the interests of the community. If a planning proposal requires 400 continuous (or nearly continuous) lots to build (say, a sports arena or set of high-end housing complexes), it can find ways to buy or push out the owners, who in turn push out the tenants, often with city help. But if no lone project was allowed to build across such a large footprint, the issue would never arise.

A learned reader might object, citing “floor area ratio,” “building envelope,” or “bulk” restrictions as having the same effect. For small building projects, they are indeed sufficient. But in large-scale developments, they have often become counter-productive. As the complexity of a project increases, the metrics for these restrictions become unfeasible or otherwise contradict each other. And so, the restrictions are allowed much more flexibility. They become open to negotiation and hypothetical lot-line redrawing, zoning lot mergers, and transfers of development rights (allowing higher stacking than the floor area ratio permits), as the NYC Department of City Planning justifies, “in order to achieve a superior site plan.” And this is where we see simple waivers becoming gross transgressions: there is little control over how much leeway is afforded to achieve that superior site plan. Anyone in New York City knows the Board of Standards and Appeals will approve just about anything. So, the slew of zoning codes cited earlier (of which there are many more) only provided for a false sense of security to the community.

Brooklyn's behemoth.

Indeed, most problematic developments are those which are “behemoths”: rows of high-rise condos, coupled with sporting complexes, parking lots, et al. And our contemporary zoning codes have no teeth against them.

Ultimately, this new overlay could make the ones beneath it redundant in their attempts to “protect” the community or “maintain the community feel.” If the new overlay is adopted and the lower-level ones removed, it would simplify the overall zoning codes, and allow for more “layperson” community engagement in planning issues, which is shockingly low, save for some vociferous (and often single-issue) advocacy groups. (Changing a “R6″ to an “R6B” doesn’t elicit much resistance; currently, the intricate nature of zoning codes functions to keep anyone from caring.)

Application

Increasingly-trendy North Brooklyn has already had some damage done, but is a potential choice to sample this new zoning overlay, especially in addition to its latest rezoning, which could cause a development eruption.

Should this new overlay be applied ubiquitously? This seems counterproductive, as anything more than experimental applications in isolated areas would fail to garner any support. It seems best for the prototypical areas to be located in “high-risk” neighborhoods (ironically, inner-city neighborhoods that are economically faltering). The goal is to have a similar impact as being granted historic neighborhood status, but would be applied to neighborhoods that would have no chance of being awarded such status and are being, or at risk to be, overrun by [upper-]middle- to upper-class housing development projects.

The logistics of coming up with numbers to apply as restrictions would be challenging and admittedly have an inescapable arbitrariness, but this already seems to be the norm with contemporary zoning requirements in the present-day. The previously-cited hypothetical of 400 lots is an extreme example of a neighborhood-demolishing swipe, but perhaps four-lot restrictions, in the right areas, coupled with height restrictions, would offer a strong enough barrier.

Redirecting capital

It is clear that the actual profit for developers would be far less than what they are used to. While the current model provides for maximum profit in short amounts of time, in terms of long-term sustainability, it is fundamentally flawed. Eventually, tomorrow’s developers will not be able to profit like their predecessors. In the light of the Atlantic Yards Project’s failure to mobilize capital in a sluggish economy, we can now forcibly argue that we’ve already passed that line which separates “today” from “tomorrow.”

And so, to fill the vacuum created by the exit of the wielders of large capital, small investors and local neighborhood development corporations (which are flourishing nevertheless) would step in to provide a flow of capital to neighborhoods, proportional to their size and needs, to provide for revitalization and/or rebeautification – from the bottom up.

Further considerations

In this proposal, we see a legal protection which would have the potential to break the cycle that is destroying all too many communities. Is there a utopian, impractical, mindset at work here? It is hard to tell whether or not a revision such as this would be effective. But perhaps with another legal barrier erected to large-scale development, at the very least, it could serve as a de facto turnoff if not a de jure restriction. The results of both are equitable.