Should neighbors be able to block development in Baltimore County?

In the book The Girl in the Eagle’s Talons, part of a series that chronicles the exploits of Lisbeth Salander of Dragon Tattoo fame, people in the north of Sweden oppose the construction of “windmills” on their land, which they fear will destroy reindeer habitat. It’s a familiar story, pitting stalwart citizens against cold-hearted developers determined to move forward with their plans despite any obstacle. This being a Lisbeth Salander story, there are also child abductions and motorcycle gangs.

Now assume you have a large, largely vacant space that’s not only mostly empty but also a bit of an eyesore. It turns out there’s a developer who wants to transform it—adding residential apartments and parkland and restaurants in addition to meeting commercial interests. The developer claims the project will add more than $3 million a year in tax benefits. Put the ugly, vacant space next to a hub of public transportation. Give this place a name—Lutherville Station, perhaps. You might think such a transformation would be embraced. 

Think again.

Consistent community opposition

There’s a community surrounding the large vacant space, and the community doesn’t want to see any new development, or at least development of the sort that that developer, who also owns an adjacent shopping complex, has proposed. The usual arguments have been raised—the proposed development will overcrowd already crowded schools. It will make traffic congestion worse. 

Not everybody is opposed, but enough are. One influential local politician doesn’t want to see the development happen against the wishes of the people in his communities—people who largely supported the election of that politician. 

Is ‘developer’ a dirty word?

“Developer,” The New York Times wrote a few years ago, has become a dirty word, and developers are a “demonized group.” But, the Times also says, there are few good solutions to the nation’s housing shortage—currently 96,000 units in Maryland according to the state Department of Housing and Community Development—that don’t at least partly involve development. In fact, the article goes on to say, most of those voicing opposition to developers and development themselves are likely to live in places that were at one point developed.

A recent article in The Atlantic — adapted from a book called Stuck: How the Privileged and the Propertied Broke the Engine of American Opportunity — argues that the process of saying “no” to development is “profoundly antidemocratic, allowing affluent communities to exclude new residents.” Yet the article says there may be a good reason to say no, as there have been valid concerns that “unrestrained growth was degrading the environment, displacing residents, and leveling historic structures.” In revolting “against the power of Big Government and Big Business, communities sought to “restore a focus on the public interest.” 

But, says the article, however “well-meaning” it may have been conceived, zoning—the process by which some land uses are allowed and others are not — began in the U.S in the late 19th century as “bigoted local officials” sought a tool to “push out” unwanted residents.

Race and class as factors

Lutherville Station would be built on the Baltimore light rail line, and many in Baltimore County have historically opposed the light rail using arguments that smack of racism. It has become obvious, Baltimore architect Klaus Philipsen says, that the Lutherville Station project “had a classist and racist background.”

Many in Lutherville deny that race is a factor. Wade Kach, the County Councilman in whose district Lutherville Station sits, and Eric Rockel, vice president of the Greater Timonium Community Council, have said there is no racial agenda. Kach has issued a statement saying that the developer’s Transit Oriented Development application, which called for development that he did not endorse, was not in “good faith.” Rockel has said that traffic congestion and school overcrowding are the real reasons for the opposition. Philipsen says these are “smokescreens.”

He points to projects in the D.C. area that he feels are good examples of sensible development. Farther afield, he mentions a development in Denver. 

“Lutherville today,” Philipsen says, “is at least two decades behind in where the country generally is, where the profession is, and where most communities are.”

Lutherville Station has been talked about and fought over enough times in the past couple of years that a number of people involved in one way or another with the project ignored entreaties to discuss it further. The PR team for the developer issued a statement saying they would respond when there is something new to report. The president of the Lutherville Community Association said by email that the organization would not be commenting on the issues being raised.  

So how should these decisions get made? What do you do when a community members don’t want a project that may look to an outsider like a sensible idea? Should neighborhood sentiment rule the day? Should the project move forward despite what the neighbors might want?

The power of negotiation

Try negotiating first, says Stacie Smith, managing director of the Consensus Building Institute, or CBI, which works to get parties unstuck in situations like this. “The question for the developers would be, Is it worth it to them to try to go to a negotiating table and come up with something different that might make the neighbors happier?”

Smith goes on to raise questions about the appropriate role for communities in these kinds of decisions. Should they be allowed to say, No compromise, we will accept nothing? (Signs have appeared in the neighborhood reading “NO APARTMENTS  NO COMPROMISE.”) “To me, it doesn’t really seem like the right answer. But nor does, We don’t care what you think — we’re going to let anybody build anything,” She stresses that it’s never CBI’s job to determine who’s right and who’s wrong.

There are no reindeer herds in the Baltimore area, and no windmills that will rise in Lutherville. But the final shape of Lutherville Station is a work in progress.