The Neighbor You Choose

The world you choose glides by as you drive or stroll down the roadways. You may opt for a jog alongside the haunting beauty of wetlands dotted by curious pale flowers, or a road trip oriented by striking vistas to cloud-shrouded mountains in the distance. You pick the route, and nature supplies the scenery, with some human intervention mixed in. To what extent such intervention is present depends on location and purpose, which occasions the controversy over where and whether certain housing is constructed.

The controversy over the proper balance of nature to development rages everywhere. In the rural Hudson Valley, it gets quite heated at times. Everyone loves our “viewsheds,” these picturesque panoramas which surround us. At the same time, some person or entity owns the realty which we admire from afar. Occasionally a developer propositions such an owner. At that point, what would ordinarily be a bilateral transaction between seller and buyer suddenly expands to encompass an abstraction called the “community.” This third party then chimes in about what is to be built and where.

Thus, planning boards host public hearings to hear from the so-called community. Residents on both sides of the issue of development appear at such hearings to express their preferences. On one side, some residents oppose all development anywhere. If nothing else, their consistency is commendable. It contrasts markedly with the other residents’ support for development, which is based more on circumstance. In general, if a proposed development is intended for someone of equal status or richer than these residents, they adamantly oppose development. If, however, the proposed development is for someone poorer – especially “affordable housing” – then these residents unreservedly support such development… only elsewhere, in someone else’s figurative backyard.

The phenomenon of NIMBYism – “not in my backyard” – is nothing new and is not limited to housing. For example, everyone recognizes a need for penitentiaries as somewhere to confine offenders adjudicated as having harmed their fellow citizens, but few people desire a penitentiary next door. Even a “happier” place like a ritzy casino may prove an undesirable neighbor to a bedroom community, where residents just want a low-key experience with little traffic on weekends. For this reason, counties and townships enact Comprehensive Plans about every ten years – often after the latest census figures update – to set a pattern for zoning ordinances. In this way, they intend to restrict development in ways and areas more compatible with current residents.

Yet even within a given community’s framework for zoning, residents on occasion take issue with a proposed development. This is when residents voice objections to constructions which may affect the viewshed and other aesthetics. Residents are entitled to such objections, of course, but these should be tempered against the realities involved.

Suppose a developer proposes the construction of a subdivision for ten houses in a dell on a rural township’s outskirts. A resident raises objection to the viewshed’s loss since a number of houses will now dot the dell, but the competing interests here do not weigh evenly. On the one hand, you have someone who laments the impairment of a panorama for the rare occasion when he happens to pass through. On the other hand, you have a buyer who at purchase drops several hundreds of thousands of dollars to live there year-round. In this scenario, the buyer has a vested interest over a transitory observer.

Obviously there are reasonable limits to this principle. Within allowed zoning parameters, there could be a proposed development scandalously incompatible with a township’s aesthetics. The Dutch city of Rotterdam’s kubuswoningen may not jive with the rural hamlet of Stanfordville, NY (population <3,600). In such cases, universal public outcry against such a development is a good sign that another community may be better suited for such a project. Rather than starting in a town as the most hated neighbor, another township of similar population and conditions may welcome a zany development like kubuswoningen or Buckminster Fuller’s geodesic dome homes.

Evaluation of objections to affordable housing is trickier. As mentioned earlier, support for affordable housing hinges on a person’s wealth. “Affordable housing” is not used in the colloquial connotation but rather as a term of art which certain institutions have defined to mean housing which costs an occupant no more than 30% of his area median income. Affordable housing’s posher cousin is “workforce housing,” defined as housing affordable to someone earning 60% of the area median income, which typically means entry-level professionals like teachers and policemen. Hence, if someone by his income qualifies for affordable housing or workforce housing, then wholeheartedly he supports its nearby construction… until he nabs a unit. After that, he staunchly opposes it since “there’s just no room in town,” “the aquifer’s depleted” and “it’ll be bumper-to-bumper traffic to the Dollar General!”

Prior to nabbing a unit of introductory housing and pulling up the figurative ladder behind oneself, a typical proponent of affordable and workforce housing is an incorrigible nimbyist when it comes to wealthier development. In the rural areas of counties like Dutchess, Putnam, Columbia, Orange, Ulster and Greene along the Hudson River, there is realty under consideration for development of high-end housing. When such development is announced, right on cue the opposition materializes. Opponents then say things like, “Why does anyone need ten acres around his house?,” and “This subdivision will consume all the farmland!” But let’s examine such claims against reality.

The objector who bemoans a neighbor’s choice for a parcel spanning ten acres (or twenty, or any number) in most cases is nakedly expressing envy. He couches the objection to make it sound like his neighbor is appropriating resources (i.e., acreage) which otherwise could be used by others, maybe even himself, but the stark reality is that in most developments the realty is not in public use. Some person or entity privately holds the land. The objector could only legally access it upon its purchase. If the objector is unable to purchase it himself, then he begrudges the neighbor who is willing and able to complete the sale, and by definition that is the vice of envy.

The objection citing farmland is of a similar character. If a subdivision is proposed on a certain plot, chances are that the current landowner is not farming it, or will soon cease. Both cases amount to the same result; that erstwhile farmland will produce nothing. A subdivision’s development on that plot will therefore deny agriculture to no one. This is just another version of the previous objection about the loss of access to acreage surrounding a proposed house, when in fact the objector was never to enjoy access after someone else acquired title.

Another dimension to these objections over development is the demand which they take for granted. New York currently suffers an exodus to smarter states like the Carolinas, Tennessee, Texas and Florida. New Yorkers more inclined towards Libertarianism may even flee to the haven of New Hampshire (in which case they must contact Carla Gericke for a house!). The sad truth is that New York is hemorrhaging population as the state totters on the brink of insolvency. Notwithstanding, areas like the Hudson Valley are experiencing an uptick in demand for realty. If proposed development is evaluated fairly, then this uptick in demand may even stave off the decline which has let other areas of New York – like the Southern Tier and North Country – slip into rustbelt.

This last point may be the most salient in terms of evaluating development in a rural or suburban area. The surrounding landscapes which we admire either need no help from us for their existence (such as untamed forests or wetlands), or they need continual horticulture (like lawns and hedges). In both cases, we need a livelihood to keep us around nature, not the other way around. For this reason, a vibrant local economy – in which numerous neighbors continuously exchange various services and commodities – is preferable to pretty wilderness which we observe on a daytrip.

To this end, the next time you drive or stroll down a roadway, and the landscape you admire is interspersed with houses or other development, try not to view such neighbors as antithetical to the landscape. Such neighbors, in fact, have come to it for the very same reasons you did. And in ways which you may not immediately discern, they are contributing to the local economy which keeps you around as well.