New Geography

Author: Joel Kotkin

  • Anger Could Make Us Stronger

    The notion of a populist outburst raises an archaic vision of soot-covered industrial workers waving placards. Yet populism is far from dead, and represents a force that could shape our political future in unpredictable ways.

    People have reasons to be mad, from declining real incomes to mythic levels of greed and excess among the financial elite. Confidence in political and economic institutions remains at low levels, as does belief in the future.

    The critical issue facing the new administration is finding useful ways to channel this disenchantment. We know popular anger can also be channeled in unproductive ways. It can serve to further a narrow political agenda – for example, Karl Rove’s cynical exploitation of the “culture wars” – or stir up a witch hunt against both real and perceived “threats,” as occurred during the McCarthy era. If this were Russia, there would be show trials and executions. We do not and should not do that – but we can still use populist anger to reshape our nation and make it stronger.

    In this respect, the Obama administration, criticized justifiably as too radical on some issues, has been far too timid. It has squandered much of the stimulus effort on maintaining fundamentally corrupt, even sociopathic, institutions like AIG or Citigroup. By taking direction from establishmentarians like Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner, one of the original architects of the Bush financial bailouts, the current administration has seemed as complicit in condoning and even rewarding Wall Street’s transgressions as the last one.

    Populist rage creates the political support for taking far bolder steps against Wall Street. A good first step would be to allow the TARP-backed giant banks to come under some sort of federal control, or bankruptcy process, effectively wiping out the holdings of the financial malefactors and decimating any hopes for future bonuses. The public could then sell the remaining assets to the many well-run community and regional banks that invest in local businesses as opposed to the arcane paper favored by the Masters of the Universe.

    Radical financial reforms represent only part of the opportunity. China is using its stimulus to increase its competitiveness globally. So far, the Obama administration’s economic strategy, if it has one, has been selling the public on the chimera that highly subsidized “green jobs” and good intentions will save the economy. It has also rewarded what my old teacher Michael Harrington called “the social-industrial complex,” the massively growing education, health and social-service bureaucracy. President Obama needs to spend less time in photo ops at “green” factories and figure out how to drive the transformation of whole industries, like autos, steel, electronics and aerospace.

    In this sense, of course, the New Deal – particularly the Works Progress Administration and the Civilian Conservation Corps – provides some models. These programs used the unemployed to create new dams, electrical-transmission systems and bridges that boosted the nation’s productive power. Critically, such a program would target blue-collar workers – mostly male and heavily minority – hardest hit in the recession. As conservatives rightly note, the New Deal construction projects did not end the Depression, but they did give people purpose and skills as well as hope, while leaving us with a remarkable legacy of productive structures that inspire us with their affirmation of our national destiny.

    Sadly, the political operatives running the White House today may prefer to use the popular mood primarily to service their key political constituencies and boost their poll ratings. If they do so, they will have squandered a unique opportunity to implement changes that would benefit both the country and the middle class for decades to come. Public outrage is a terrible thing to waste.

    This article originally appeared at Newsweek.

    Joel Kotkin is executive editor of NewGeography.com and is a presidential fellow in urban futures at Chapman University. He is author of The City: A Global History and is finishing a book on the American future.

  • Cash, Not Pretense: An Entrepreneur’s Guide to the Credit Crisis.

    Compared with most businessmen, 41-year-old Charlie Wilson has some reason to like the economic downturn. President of Salvex, a Houston-based salvage firm he founded in 2002, Wilson has seen huge growth in the bankruptcy business over the past year. It is keeping his 10-person staff, and his 55 agents around the world, busy.

    But the credit crunch still creates headaches for Wilson. With loans hard to secure, many would-be customers cannot bid on the merchandise in his inventory. “We are booming with more deals because people are defaulting,” Wilson notes, “but the buyers are gun-shy because they can’t get the money to pay.”

    So what do you do in these circumstances? Charlie Wilson is taking a back-to-basics approach. Rule No. 1: Stay away from people who rely on credit, not cash. This means private companies – including many outside the U.S. – are often better customers than larger, but now cash-strapped, public ones. “The further away I get from Wall Street, the better I feel,” Wilson says.

    Cheap is the new hip. Focus on cutting costs and streamlining operations. Don’t spend money on unnecessary employees or hard infrastructure; use the Internet wherever possible. It helps, Wilson says, to be located in an affordable building and in a place, like Houston, where taxes, regulatory costs and rents are generally cheap. “I work out of a Class C building,” he says, “and now everyone thinks it’s sexy.”

    Expand your range of customers. Look for new customers who have cash resources and access to markets that are still growing. This has led Wilson to look outside the U.S, to places like India or China, where many companies still have cash and see the current crisis as a great opportunity for bargain hunting.

    These three trends – the growing importance of cash, cost cutting and expanding one’s customer base – are defining entrepreneurial response to the credit crash. All three trends can be seen in the strategies of entrepreneurs who are focusing on burgeoning, often cash-oriented immigrant markets.

    Consider the success of La Gran Plaza, a massive Latino-themed shopping center on the outskirts of Ft. Worth, Texas. Not so long ago, La Gran Plaza was a failing suburban shopping center. Now it’s thriving, but only after being regeared to service the cash economy of the local Latino community. Similar success can be seen elsewhere in the country, even in Southern California, which has been hard-hit by the recession but where ethnic malls and supermarkets continue to thrive.

    Some urbanists, like scholar Richard Florida, maintain that the post-crash environment favors densely populated (and very expensive) cities like New York. But in fact, it may make more sense for entrepreneurs concerned with costs to work out of places like Houston, or even the Great Plains states, where local governments are more business-friendly. And everything, from housing to energy, tends to be less expensive.

    Indeed, over the past few recessions, the basic pattern has been that cities come into the downturns late and stay in them longer. In the last decade, many big cities have become very dependent on Wall Street and asset inflation. In 2006, for instance, financial services accounted for a remarkable 35% of all of New York City’s wages and salaries, compared with less than 20% 30 years earlier.

    So it seems likely that the credit crisis will hit pretty hard in those places most addicted to credit – places like New York, San Francisco and Chicago. This occurred early 1980s, the early 1990s and will occur again now. It might even be worse this time around. The federal takeover of the banks will mean lower salaries and bonuses, which will make such places less attractive to ambitious young people. If you are limited to $250,000 a year, it’s much easier to “get by” in Charlotte or Des Moines than it is in Manhattan.

    The biggest hope for New York, Los Angeles and other big cities lies with immigrants and the fact that lower property prices could keep some talented individuals from migrating elsewhere. But the one expensive big city really well-positioned for the credit crunch may be Washington, D.C., since it “creates” its own credit. As key financial decision making shifts to the capital, we can expect to see some financial-industry titans (and their retainers) spending more time in, or even moving to, the capitol. Washington, it’s time for your close-up.

    Beyond the beltway, the credit crunch will eventually benefit places with lower costs of living – including Houston. High rents, strong regulatory restraints and prestige spending make little sense in a cash-short environment. Now, fancy high-rise offices in elite areas are an albatross for even the strongest business.

    The remade economy may hold some much-needed good news for hard-hit sun-belt markets. Some places, like Phoenix, may be poised for a comeback. “Phoenix is paying for being overbuilt, but [lower] prices will attract people back,” explains local economist Elliot Pollack. “The fundamentals that drove the growth are still here with the return of lower costs – the ease of doing business, lower taxes and the attractiveness of the area.”

    But the real winners may be the people now leaving big companies to start new firms. Unburdened by bad habits developed in the bubble, they will be able to fit their business models in lean times. Many won’t mind being in an un-fancy building or neighborhood. Whether they are forming new banks, energy companies or design firms, they will need to do it more efficiently – with less overhead, smarter use of the Web and less pretension.

    “People are watching their companies go under. You get three vice-presidents who get laid off but know their business,” Wilson says. “They start a new company somewhere cheap that is more efficient and streamlined. These are the companies that will survive and grow the next economy.”

    This article originally appeared at Forbes.

    Joel Kotkin is executive editor of NewGeography.com and is a presidential fellow in urban futures at Chapman University. He is author of The City: A Global History and is finishing a book on the American future.

  • How Elite Environmentalists Impoverish Blue-Collar Americans

    The great Central Valley of California has never been an easy place. Dry and almost uninhabitable by nature, the state’s engineering marvels brought water down from the north and the high Sierra, turning semi-desert into some of the richest farmland in the world.

    Yet today, amid drought conditions, large parcels of the valley – particularly on its west side – are returning to desert; and in the process, an entire economy based on large-scale, high-tech agriculture is being brought to its knees. You can see this reality in the increasingly impoverished rural towns scattered along this region, places like Mendota and Avenal, Coalinga and Lost Hills.

    In some towns, unemployment is now running close to 40%. Overall, the water-related farming cutbacks could affect up to 300,000 acres and could cost up to 80,000 jobs.

    However, the depression conditions in the great valley reflect more than a mere water shortage. They are the direct result of conscious actions by environmental activists to usher in a new era of scarcity.

    To some extent, such efforts reflect some real limits imposed by the growth of population. Constructive long-term changes in the conservation and utilization of all basic resources – energy, water and land – are not only necessary, but also inevitable.

    Yet the new scarcity does not simply advocate humane ways to deal with shortages, but seeks to exacerbate them intentionally. This reflects a doomsday streak in the contemporary environmental ethos – greatly enhanced by the concern over climate change – that believes greater scarcity of all basic commodities, from land and water to energy, might help reduce the much detested “footprint” of our species.

    One key element of this agenda has to do with reducing access to critical resources like water beyond those required to support existing uses. To be sure, two years of below-average precipitation helped create central California’s current water shortage. Planting crops such as cotton, which needs lots of water, may also have contributed to the problem.

    However, this only explains part of the problem, which increasingly has to do not with vicissitudes of nature but conscious political action. In prior dry periods, the state has managed its water resources to supply farmers and other users as effectively as possible. Today, in response to seemingly endless litigation to protect certain fish in the Delta region west of Sacramento or to “revitalize” valley streams, enormous amounts of water have been allowed to flow untapped into San Francisco Bay.

    This distinction was entirely missing in national coverage of the drought. A recent New York Times article, for example, barely acknowledged the role played by environmentalists whose move to block additional water supplies from the Delta have turned a below-average year – moisture content in the Sierra is about 90% of normal – into something of an epochal agricultural and human disaster.

    “This is still a pretty decent drought but nothing unusual,” suggests Tim Quinn, executive director of the Association of California Water Agencies, which represents both urban and agricultural interests. “We were prepared, as usual, for the drought, but they have taken all the tools away from us.”

    Many environmentalists justify their efforts to curtail water availability for California’s farmers and towns by citing various doomsday global warming projections. Energy Secretary Steven Chu, for example, recently opined that as the state’s climate inevitably shifts to a hot-weather, low-precipitation pattern, water scarcity will create “a scenario where there is no more agriculture in California.” If agriculture is doomed anyway, why not kill the industry now and use the water for fish or other pet “green” projects?

    This represents a remarkable reversal in the spirit that only a few decades ago drove the development of California. Anyone who has lived for any period in the state knows that aridity represents our greatest natural challenge. California seems always either at the edge of drought, coming out of one, or about to enter a dry spell. Since 1920, the state has experienced crippling six-year droughts during 1929 to 1934 and 1987 to 1994, as well as severe shortfalls of a lesser span on several occasions.

    Recognizing the need for a reliable water supply despite the certainty of significant dry years, Californians responded by building one of the most highly advanced water delivery systems in the world. The result was a network of federal and state dams, pumps and aqueducts emblematic of the “can-do” spirit motivating old Progressives, like Edmund Brown in Sacramento and New Dealers in the nation’s capitol.

    The state’s water conveyance facilities opened vast new tracts of land to agriculture. Some of the world’s largest expanses of almonds, pistachios, pomegranates, grapes and cotton covered once-arid land. This expansion created steady demand for advanced farming technologies as well as low-paid labor, much of it undocumented. Reflecting this dichotomy, wealth and poverty grew hand in hand throughout the Central Valley.

    Today, environmentalists cite – as yet another reason to dehydrate California farmlands – the prevalence of immigrant labor in the Central Valley. Lloyd Carter, a major state environmental activist, recently suggested that cutting farm production would actually be beneficial since most farm workers are “not even American citizens for starters” and raise children that “turn to lives of crime,” “go on welfare” and “get into drug trafficking and … join gangs.” These comments cost Carter his association with certain environmental groups, but not his day job – deputy attorney general under former governor and supreme green jihadi Jerry Brown.

    Unfortunately, Carter’s comments reflect what many environmentalists will tell you in private. As a Valley resident himself, Carter may have great empathy for his region’s poor and working class, but it’s hardly a priority among the core of the green movement, which is based in places like San Francisco or Santa Monica. This reflects not so much racism as a disconnect with the productive industries – agriculture, energy and manufacturing – that tend to cluster on the other side of the coastal range.

    The growing economic problems in Central Valley cities like Fresno, where unemployment is near 15%, represents little more than an abstraction to a new cadre of wealthy “progressives” who merely pass through the area on their way to Yosemite and other Sierra resorts.

    “We are getting the sense some people want us to die,” notes native son Tim Stearns, a professor of entrepreneurship at California State University at Fresno. “It’s kind of like they like the status quo and what happens in the Central Valley doesn’t matter. These are just a bunch of crummy towns to them.”

    This split has engendered what is likely a quixotic secession campaign led by farmers in the interior counties, but such drives to divide the Golden State have risen and failed many times before. Yet clearly, there exists a growing divide between producer and consumer economies, and this is coming to the fore not only in California, and on issues well beyond water.

    It is critical to understand that anti-growth politics diverges from the old conservationist ethos in radical ways. No longer is it enough to talk about growing intelligently or using technology to meet long-term problems. Instead, scarcity politics seeks to slow and even reverse material progress through what President Obama’s science adviser, John Holdren, calls “de-development.”

    “De-development” – that is, the retreat from economic growth – includes some sensible notions about conservation but takes them to unreasonable, socially devastating and politically unpalatable extremes. The agenda, for example, includes an opposition to population growth, limits on material consumption and a radical redistribution of wealth both nationally and to the developing world.

    In much the same way as seen in California’s water crisis, many of the administration’s “green” energy policies pose a direct threat to blue-collar workers employed in extracting and processing fossil fuels. The resultant high energy prices caused by the proposed “cap and trade” system – essentially a system for creating scarcity – also will cost middle-class consumers, blue-collar workers, truckers and manufacturers. These constituencies could well face the kind of water policy-related decline that is destroying farming communities throughout central California.

    Yet at the same time, such policies make the well-to-do and trustafarians in San Francisco and Malibu – for whom higher energy prices are barely a concern – feel better about themselves. In what passes for progressive politics today, narcissism usually takes priority over reality.

    In the new scarcity politics, access to land also may be sharply limited. New land regulation, ostensibly for climate-change reasons – already in place in California and being discussed as well in Washington state – could force almost all new development to follow a high-density, multi-family pattern. Over time, single-family homes – the preference of a vast majority of Americans – will become once again, as they were in the past, the privilege only of the upper classes in some metropolitan regions.

    By embracing the politics of scarcity, the Obama administration seems committed to imposing a regime that could slow any sustained recovery from the current recession. Although these ideas might appear plausible at a Harvard Law Review bull session, their real consequences for millions of Americans could prove very ugly indeed.

    This article originally appeared at Forbes.

    Joel Kotkin is executive editor of NewGeography.com and is a presidential fellow in urban futures at Chapman University. He is author of The City: A Global History and is finishing a book on the American future.

  • How Houston Will Weather The Recession

    In the past year or so, traveling the various geographies of this country has become increasingly depressing. From the baked Sun Belt suburbs to the green Valhallas of Oregon and the once luxurious precincts of Manhattan, it is hard to find much cheer–at least from entrepreneurs–about the prospects for the economy.

    Until recently Texas, and particularly Houston, has been one of the last bastions of that great traditional American optimism–and for good reason. Over the past few years, Houston has outperformed every major metropolitan area on virtually every key economic indicator.

    Last year, the region was rated among the major metropolitan areas as the best place for everything from earning a living to college grads to manufacturing, according to such publications as Forbes, Business Week and Kiplinger’s.

    But the city that could may soon not. Like a couple of bad storms, the recession is barreling in from east and west, shutting off credit to even the most successful businesses. Just last month, Hanley Wood’s Builder ranked Houston the “healthiest” housing market in the nation. But when you get on the ground, things appear far less sanguine.

    Particularly hard hit has been the once-vibrant inner city condominium market, which has been attracting a whole new generation of young professionals to urban living. Now some condominiums, suggests developer Tim Cisneros, are being abandoned by younger workers who have become the prime victims of a contracting economy. As seen in other regions, others are turning to rentals as potential buyers fail to qualify even at Houston’s reasonable prices.

    However, the biggest problem facing Houston today revolves around the energy industry, which represents to this region of well over 5 million what finance does to New York. Already lower energy prices, along with the global slowdown, have taken a dent in job growth. Just last week, the Texas Workforce commission reported a 0.7% employment increase for the area in 2008, compared with a robust 3.5% the year before.

    Bill Gilmer, a veteran economist who covers energy for the Dallas branch of the Federal Reserve, reports that proposed new taxes and regulations plus falling prices have started to decimate the domestic oil and gas industry. Over the past year, he reports the number of rigs in operation across the country dropped from 2,000 to some 1,300.

    The impact of this on Houston’s energy economy, Gilmer suggests, will be severe, and it will drag the region and much of Texas down with it. “We are talking about a Texas recession now without question,” he says. “I lived through the Jimmy Carter era before, and now it’s déjà vu.”

    Of course, some high-end jobs in energy will remain, particularly for those who work on massive new projects overseas, like in Saudi Arabia. Instead, the biggest hits will affect the production sector, which until recently was a prodigious creator of high-wage blue-collar jobs. Over the coming years, the production downturn could devastate places like western Texas, the Dakotas, Louisiana, California’s Kern County and anywhere else that produces American crude and gas.

    Indeed, it may turn out to be one of the great ironies that the Obama administration, which campaigned earnestly against our “dependence on foreign oil,” will in the end make us more so. Barring an unexpected shift toward nuclear power, it is hard to see how the country–given the administration’s stance–will produce enough energy to meet its need in the near or even mid-term without turning increasingly to the Saudis and others overseas.

    Of course, the Houston-centered domestic energy industry may not go quietly into the night. The D.C. correspondent for the Energy Compass, Bill Murray, expects a “battle royal” in Congress over climate change legislation this fall.

    Houston Mayor Bill White, who is running for the Senate in 2010, also seems ready to fight the anti-oil and gas prejudices of key administration insiders. Natural gas, he suggests, “has to be a big part of the future if [we] have any chance at all to have electric power that is affordable and cleaner.”

    It is critical to point out that White is not some Neanderthal GOP “ditto head” but a former assistant energy secretary under Bill Clinton, a one-time chairman of the Texas Democratic Party and a widely popular figure in majority non-white Houston. He has a long record championing energy conservation and alternative fuels, but he says he cannot embrace an inquisitional approach to his city’s signature industry.

    “There’s a difference,” he said, with obvious reference to the Democrats in Washington, “between mandating one kind of technology and reality.”

    Yet even if the green Torquemadas have their way, White thinks Houstonians will find a way to keep their city ahead of the country’s other urban sad sacks. Throughout the expansion of recent years, when other cities went on insane spending sprees, Houston has kept the cost of services low and focused on basic infrastructure. Critically, Houston is also among the few big cities that has streamlined its pensions for public employees.

    Houston may also benefit from its historical experience dealing with near-depression conditions. When energy prices collapsed after 1983, the region went through a decade-long recession. The city went from being one of the country’s busiest construction sites to being filled with empty “see-through” office buildings and expanses of foreclosed homes.

    Under another Democratic mayor, the revered Bob Lanier, Houston gamely recovered, without much help from Washington. Lanier and other Houston leaders drove to diversify the economy–particularly in medical services, international trade and manufacturing–by investing in basic infrastructure and keeping costs low.

    “We’ve already lived through one depression,” says local real estate investor David Wolff, who also serves as chairman of the region’s transit agency, Metro. “We have already learned humility, and we have learned how to prepare for the world when everything shifts under our feet.”

    So despite all the problems surrounding energy and the encroaching recession, Houstonians continue to be cautiously optimistic about their future.

    They still excel at all the hallmarks of a progressive economy, such as improving both road and rail transport, reforming the school system and working to expand new industries, such as medical services, that have not yet been targeted by the Obamamians.

    To be sure, Houston, which missed the Bush recession, is beginning to feel the pain during the new administration’s watch. But Houstonians long have displayed remarkable grit and creativity in the face of tough times. Having survived catastrophic energy price declines, several huge hurricanes and endless humid summers, Houston is still among the best bets to survive these tough times and come out, in the end, a strong winner.

    This article originally appeared at Forbes.

    Joel Kotkin is executive editor of NewGeography.com and is a presidential fellow in urban futures at Chapman University. He is author of The City: A Global History and is finishing a book on the American future.

  • Is Obama’s Urban Focus Bad News for the Rest of the Countryside?

    To much of the media, Barack Obama is the ultimate dream president, a sophisticated urbanite whose roots lie in top-tier academia and big-city politics. This asset could also become a glaring weakness, blinding him to the fundamental aspirations for smaller places and self-government that have long animated the American experience.

    It has been a half-century since have we seen a presidential inner circle so identified with our densest urban centers. The three most recent Democratic presidents — Lyndon Johnson, Jimmy Carter and Bill Clinton — all had substantial roots in small-town America that also helped them understand the aspirations of middle-class suburban and exurban voters.

    In contrast, this is an administration steeped in the mystique of big cities. Chief of staff Rahm Emanuel is a tough-guy player from the variously effective and consistently corrupt Chicago city machine. The members of the Cabinet and top-tier apparatus are longtime residents of such large cities as New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco and Boston and, of course, Chicago.

    As the continuing Roland Burris saga reveals, the Chicago connection, in particular, seems likely to wreak continued damage. Chicago’s corruption could run like a sore through this administration, much like Arkansas with the Clintons. But rather than deal with almost laughable hillbillies, we may witness the exposure of some of the toughest, and brazen, baddies in American politics.

    Yet for the most part, the big media have been too captivated by the president’s urbane mystique to delve too deeply into the Chicago morass. Largely denizens of big cities, the top media generally embrace the notion that dense urban places are inherently better, more efficient, culturally and environmentally sound than less glamorous, more spread-out places.

    You can see this worldview almost daily in The New York Times or, more substantially, in the pages of The Atlantic Monthly and The New Republic, where writers often like to envision an American future bright for top-tier cities and pretty bleak for everyone else.

    Given the composition of the president’s inner circle, one can imagine such views are widely accepted at the highest levels. Over the coming years, this could precipitate a policy agenda that, though perhaps well intentioned, could work to the disadvantage in the suburbs, exurbs and small towns where most Americans live. Their policies — particularly the new taxes on the so-called $250K-a-year rich — may not even work so much to the advantage of middle-class urbanites; but this may take time to unfold.

    More important, Obama’s urban policy also marks a critical shift from the traditional American preference for decentralization of power — including at the city level — to one that embraces ever greater concentration. It could also mark a public embrace of hierarchy every bit as serious — and perhaps less reversible — than has occurred in the relatively unregulated marketplace environment of the past quarter century.

    The most recent Pew study confirms that some 77 percent of Americans prefer to live in suburbs, small towns or the countryside. But this prevailing preference for deconcentration disturbs many urban planners and policymakers, including some close to the Obama team. A key transition adviser of urban policy, the Brookings Institution’s Bruce Katz, has been pushing the notion of “regionalism” under which there would be a major shift of power away from individual towns, counties and even urban neighborhoods to mega-regional agencies.

    Katz, like many regionalists, seeks to diminish such local interests — which they fear as too parochial and insufficiently enlightened. His views about small-town politics are scathing as evidenced in an anti-Sarah Palin screed, published in The New Republic last October, revealingly titled “Village Idiocy.”

    To be sure, regional agencies sometimes are useful, for example, in the management of air and water basins. But almost automatically regionalism favors more powerful entrenched interests over smaller communities and businesses. For example, in Southern California, the vast majority of the population lives in suburban cities, but power at the mega-regional agencies — such as the Southern California Association of Governments — usually reliably reflects the interests of large developers, public employee unions, big architects and planners.

    Speaking in Florida recently, the president denounced “sprawl,” saying its days were now “over.” Although hardly a declaration of war on suburbia per se, his comments thrilled those offended by low-density suburbs and who want government to promote ever denser urban development — even if often opposed by grass-roots urbanites.

    The emerging centralizing impulse can be seen in the stimulus, with unprecedented funds for light-rail projects and high-speed rail. Although such projects may seem logical in a few concentrated cities like Washington or New York, they seem poorly suited for most American cities and the vast majority of suburbs. In such places, a more practical, market-friendly way to curb greenhouse gases would be to promote decentralization of work, the creation of flexible low-cost transit and providing incentives for home-based business.

    Over time, such tendencies could present potential dangers for the president. Despite the preferences of most people around the president, and perhaps he himself, nearly 80 percent of Americans consistently report they favor living in less dense places and overwhelmingly prefer single-family homes. They may also be reluctant to surrender ever more control over their daily lives to either distant regional authorities or the federal apparatus. Ultimately, the administration may be forced to choose between acting on its urban mystique and maintaining its political majority.

    This article originally appeared at Politico.

    Joel Kotkin is executive editor of NewGeography.com and is a presidential fellow in urban futures at Chapman University. He is author of The City: A Global History and is finishing a book on the American future.

  • Urban Inequality Could Get Worse

    President Obama’s stated objective to reduce inequality, as laid out in public addresses and budget plans, is a noble one. The growing income gap – not only between rich and poor, but also between the ultra-affluent and the middle class – poses a threat both to the economy and the long-term viability of our republic.

    But ironically, what seems to be the administration’s core proposal, ratcheting up the burden on “rich” taxpayers earning over $250,000, could have unintended consequences. For one thing, it would place undue stress on the very places that have been Obama’s strongest supports, while providing an unintended boost to those regions that most oppose him.

    At the heart of the matter is the age-old debate about who is “rich.” If you define wealthy as $250,000 a year for a family of four, that means different things in different places. America is a vast country, and the cost of living varies widely. What seems a princely sum in, say, red state Oklahoma City is barely enough to eke out a basic middle-class life in blue bastions like New York, Los Angeles or San Francisco.

    In the recent study on the New York middle class that I conducted with Jonathan Bowles at the Center for an Urban Future, we compared the cost of a “middle class” standard of living in New York and other cities. The report found that Manhattan is by far the most expensive urban area in the country, with a cost of living that’s more than twice the national average. (This is according to a cost of living index developed by the ACCRA, a research group formerly known as the American Chamber of Commerce Researchers Association.)

    But even Queens, the city’s middle-class haven and the only other borough included in the ACCRA analysis, suffers the eighth highest cost of living in the country.

    What does that mean? An individual from Houston who earns $50,000 would have to make $115,769 in Manhattan and $81,695 in Queens to live at the same level of comfort. Similarly, earning $50,000 in Atlanta is the equivalent of earning $106,198 in Manhattan and $74,941 in Queens. (See “New York Should End Its Obsession With Manhattan.”)

    The cost of housing constitutes one critical part of the difference. Average monthly rent in New York was $2,720 in the fourth quarter of 2007, by far the top in the nation. That total was both 55% higher than the second place city, San Francisco, where average effective rents are $1,760, and nearly triple the national average of $975.

    Even in relative boom times, such high costs have been driving many out of New York, and now it could get worse. During tough times, people’s incomes drop, so they are less able to absorb high costs and taxes, which are rising in many blue cities and states. Imposing more taxes on some label-rich New Yorkers or Angelenos, who earn $250,000 a year, won’t make them more likely to stay.

    Perhaps even worse, higher taxes probably won’t help the inequality issue. True, historically and to this day, the greatest levels of inequality occur in low-tax areas like the Mississippi Delta, the Rio Grande Valley and Appalachia. But, increasingly, this unsavory distinction is shared by big cities like New York, Los Angeles and Chicago. In contrast, the most egalitarian states are generally deep red places – such as the Dakotas, Alaska, Nebraska and Wyoming.

    Higher costs – manifested in everyday expenses like sales taxes and energy bills – now contribute in a large way to growing inequality even in the richest, most elite cities. When housing and other costs are factored in, notes researcher Deborah Reed of the left-leaning Public Policy Institute of California, deep-blue mainstays Los Angeles and San Francisco rank among the top 10 counties in America with respect to the percentage of people in poverty. Only New York and Washington, D.C., do worse.

    Worst of all, the rise of inequality in these high-cost blue cities seems to be connected to policy decisions. High taxes and strict regulations have expelled relatively well-paying blue collar jobs in manufacturing and warehousing from expensive urban areas. Without them, an extremely bifurcated economy and society forms because no traditional ladders for upward mobility remain; they are critical to a successful urbanity.

    Back in the 1960s, Jane Jacobs predicted that Latino immigrants to New York, mainly from Puerto Rico, would inevitably make “a fine middle class.” Yet four decades later, in the Bronx, the city’s most heavily Latino county, roughly one in three households lives in poverty – the highest rate of any urban county in the nation.

    At the other extreme, in Manhattan, where the rich are concentrated, the disparities between socioeconomic classes have been rising steadily. In 1980, the borough ranked 17th among the nation’s counties for social inequality; today it ranks first, with the top fifth of wage earners earning 52 times that of the lowest fifth, a disparity roughly comparable to that of Namibia.

    To an old-fashioned Truman Democrat like me, this is bad news. But some modern-day “progressives,” like Richard Florida, celebrate the concentration of rich people. They see them as guarantors that places like New York will be the winners of the post-crash economy. The losers? Goods-producing regions of the Great Plains, the industrial Midwest and, of course, those unenlightened, suburban middle-class people.

    Yet it seems more and more likely that raising taxes for urban middle-income workers will, over the long term, add to the flood of people fleeing to less costly locales with lower taxes. This will be particularly true for the growing ranks of information economy “artisans” who might find critical write-offs for home offices and other business expenses cut from their next tax return.

    None of this is necessary. The “creative destruction” resulting from the downturn might actually prove a boon to these big cities – by making them more affordable for the urban middle class. This help would be accelerated if city governments – as in Los Angeles, New York, Houston and even San Francisco during the early 1990s – nurture local businesses.

    But “growth” – a word not widely embraced in this greenest of administrations – does not seem to be a priority in either Washington or in most city halls. There are murmurs that investment in high-cost, subsidized alternative energy will create vast numbers of new jobs, but this is likely just wishful thinking for everyone but Al Gore’s business partners.

    This is not to say cities’ policies need to return to Bush-style Republicanism. Tax breaks for big-time investors and real estate speculators do not make a sustainable urban policy either. What’s needed is something closer to lunch-bucket liberalism, which focuses on productivity-enhancing initiatives and sparking entrepreneurial growth. America – its cities in particular – could do with more private-sector stimulation and a lot less high-minded social engineering.

    With policies geared toward the latter at the expense of the former, one of the great ironies of the Obama era will continue to unfold.

    By targeting the urban middle class to pay for its deficit and new social programs, the president’s plan could end up draining wealth – and boosting inequality – from our nation’s great cities, where he currently draws overwhelming support, to its hinterlands. Not exactly what the White House had in mind, no doubt, but, sadly, it’s a distinct possibility.

    This article originally appeared at Forbes.

    Joel Kotkin is executive editor of NewGeography.com and is a presidential fellow in urban futures at Chapman University. He is author of The City: A Global History and is finishing a book on the American future.

  • Democrats Could Face an Internal Civil War as Gentry and Populist Factions Square Off

    This is the Democratic Party’s moment, its power now greater than any time since the mid-1960s. But do not expect smooth sailing. The party is a fractious group divided by competing interests, factions and constituencies that could explode into a civil war, especially when it comes to energy and the environment.

    Broadly speaking, there is a long-standing conflict inside the Democratic Party between gentry liberals and populists. This division is not the same as in the 1960s, when the major conflicts revolved around culture and race as well as on foreign policy. Today the emerging fault-lines follow mostly regional, geographical and, most importantly, class differences.

    Gentry liberals cluster largely in cities, wealthy suburbs and college towns. They include disproportionately those with graduate educations and people living on the coasts. Populists tend to be located more in middle- and working-class suburbs, the Great Plains and industrial Midwest. They include a wider spectrum of Americans, including many whose political views are somewhat changeable and less subject to ideological rigor.

    In the post-World War II era, the gentry’s model candidate was a man such as Adlai Stevenson, the Democratic presidential nominee who lost twice to Dwight D. Eisenhower. Stevenson was a svelte intellectual who, like Barack Obama, was backed by the brute power of the Chicago machine. After Stevenson, the gentry supported candidates such as John Kennedy – who did appeal to Catholic working class voters – but also men with limited appeal outside the gentry class, including Eugene McCarthy, George McGovern, Gary Hart, Bill Bradley, Paul Tsongas and John Kerry.

    Hubert Humphrey, a populist heir to the lunch-pail liberalism of Harry Truman (and who was despised by gentry intellectuals) missed the presidency by a hair in 1968. But populists in the party later backed lackluster candidates such as Walter Mondale and Dick Gephardt.

    Bill Clinton revived the lunch-pail Democratic tradition; and the final stages of last year’s presidential primaries represented yet another classic gentry versus populist conflict. Hillary Clinton could not match Barack Obama’s appeal to the gentry. Driven to desperation, she ended up running a spirited populist campaign.

    Although peace now reigns between the Clintons and the new president, the broader gentry-populist split seems certain to fester at both the congressional and local levels – and President Obama will be hard-pressed to negotiate this divide. Gentry liberals are very “progressive” when it comes to issues such as affirmative action, gay rights, the environment and energy policy, but are not generally well disposed to protectionism or auto-industry bailouts, which appeal to populists. Populists, meanwhile, hated the initial bailout of Wall Street – despite its endorsement by Mr. Obama and the congressional leadership.

    Geography is clearly a determining factor here. Standout antifinancial bailout senators included Sens. Byron Dorgan of North Dakota, Tim Johnson of South Dakota, and Jon Tester of Montana. On the House side, the antibailout faction came largely from places like the Great Plains and Appalachia, as well as from the suburbs and exurbs, including places like Arizona and interior California.

    Gentry liberals, despite occasional tut-tutting, fell lockstep for the bailout. Not one Northeastern or California Democratic senator opposed it. In the House, “progressives” such as Nancy Pelosi and Barney Frank who supported the financial bailout represent districts with a large concentration of affluent liberals, venture capitalists and other financial interests for whom the bailout was very much a matter of preserving accumulated (and often inherited) wealth.

    Energy and the environment are potentially even more explosive issues. Gentry politicians tend to favor developing only alternative fuels and oppose expanding coal, oil or nuclear energy. Populists represent areas, such as the Great Lakes region, where manufacturing still plays a critical role and remains heavily dependent on coal-based electricity. They also tend to have ties to economies, such as in the Great Plains, Appalachia and the Intermountain West, where smacking down all new fossil-fuel production threatens lots of jobs – and where a single-minded focus on alternative fuels may drive up total energy costs on the farm, make life miserable again for truckers, and put American industrial firms at even greater disadvantage against foreign competitors.

    In the coming years, Mr. Obama’s “green agenda” may be a key fault line. Unlike his notably mainstream appointments in foreign policy and economics, he’s tilted fairly far afield on the environment with individuals such as John Holdren, a longtime acolyte of the discredited neo-Malthusian Paul Ehrlich, and Carol Browner, who was Bill Clinton’s hard-line EPA administrator.

    These appointments could presage an environmental jihad throughout the regulatory apparat. Early examples could mean such things as strict restrictions on greenhouse gases, including bans on new drilling and higher prices through carbon taxes or a cap-and-trade regime.

    Another critical front, not well understood by the public, could develop on land use – with the adoption of policies that favor dense cities over suburbs and small towns. This trend can be observed most obviously in California, but also in states such as Oregon where suburban growth has long been frowned upon. Emboldened greens in government could use their new power to drive infrastructure spending away from badly needed projects such as new roads, bridges and port facilities, and toward projects such as light rail lines. These lines are sometimes useful, but largely impractical outside a few heavily traveled urban corridors. Essentially it means a transfer of subsidies from those who must drive cars to the relative handful for whom mass transit remains a viable alternative.

    Priorities such as these may win plaudits in urban enclaves in New York, Boston and San Francisco – bastions of the gentry class and of under-35, childless professionals – but they might not be so widely appreciated in the car- and truck-driving Great Plains and the vast suburban archipelago, where half the nation’s population lives.

    If he wishes to enhance his power and keep the Democrats together, Mr. Obama will have to figure out how to placate both his gentry base and those Democrats who still see their party’s mission in terms that Harry Truman would have understood.

    This article originally appeared at Wall Street Journal.

    Joel Kotkin is executive editor of NewGeography.com and is a presidential fellow in urban futures at Chapman University. He is author of The City: A Global History and is finishing a book on the American future.

  • The Decline of Los Angeles

    Next week, Antonio Villaraigosa will be overwhelmingly re-elected mayor of Los Angeles. Do not, however, take the size of his margin – he faces no significant opposition – as evidence that all is well in the city of angels.

    Whatever His Honor says to the media, the sad reality remains that Los Angeles has fallen into a serious secular decline. This constitutes one of the most rapid – and largely unnecessary – municipal reversals in fortune in American urban history.

    A century ago, when L.A. had barely 100,000 souls, railway magnate Henry Huntington predicted that the place was “destined to become the most important city in this country, if not the world.” Long run by ambitious, often ruthless boosters, the city lured waves of newcomers with its pro-business climate, perfect weather and spectacular topography.

    These newcomers – first largely from the Midwest and East Coast, and then from around the world – energized L.A. into an unmatched hub of innovation and economic diversity.

    As a result, L.A. surged toward civic greatness. By the end of the 20th century, it stood not only as the epicenter for the world’s entertainment industry, but also North America’s largest port, garment manufacturer and industrial center. The region also spawned two important presidents – Richard Nixon and Ronald Reagan – and nurtured a host of political and social movements spanning the ideological spectrum.

    Now L.A. seems to be fading rapidly toward irrelevancy. Its economy has tanked faster than that of the nation, with unemployment now close to 10%. The port appears in decline, the roads in awful shape and the once potent industrial base continues to shrink.

    Job growth in the area, notes a forecast by the University of California at Santa Barbara, dropped 0.6% last year and is expected to plunge far more rapidly this year. Roughly one-fifth of the population depends on public assistance or benefits to survive.

    Once a primary destination for Americans, L.A. – along with places like Detroit, New York and Chicago – now suffers among the highest rates of out-migration in the country. Particularly hard hit has been its base of middle-class families, which continues to shrink. This is painfully evident in places like the San Fernando Valley, where I live, long a middle-class outpost for L.A., much like Queens and Staten Island are for New York.

    In such a context, Villaraigosa’s upcoming coronation seems hard to comprehend. By most accounts, he has been at best a mediocre mayor, with few real accomplishments besides keeping police chief Bill Bratton, a man appointed by his predecessor. So far, Bratton has managed to keep the lid on crime, a testament both to his skills and to the demographic aging of much of the city.

    Besides this, virtually every major initiative from Villaraigosa has been a dismal failure; from a poorly executed program to plant more trees to a subsidized drive to refashion downtown Los Angeles into a mini-Manhattan. Instead of reforming a generally miserable business climate, Villaraigosa has fixated on fostering “elegant density” through massive new residential construction. This gambit has failed miserably, with downtown property values plunging at least 35% since their peak. Many “luxury” condominiums there, as well as elsewhere in the city, remain largely unoccupied or have turned into rentals.

    More recently the mayor has presided over a widely ridiculed scheme to hand over the solar business in Los Angeles to a city agency, the Department of Water and Power (DWP), whose workers are among the best paid and most coddled of any municipal agency anywhere. Most solar plans by utilities focus more on competitive bidding by outside contractors. Villaraigosa’s plan, which recent estimates suggests will cost L.A. ratepayers upward of $3.6 billion, would grant a powerful, well-heeled union control of the city’s solar program.

    This has occurred despite years of overruns on previous DWP “clean energy” projects. Not surprisingly, the plan was widely blasted – by the city’s largest newspaper, the rapidly shrinking Los Angeles Times, the feistier LA Weekly and the last independent voice at City Hall, outgoing City Controller Laura Chick, who proclaimed that the whole scheme “stinks.” Yet despite the criticism, a ballot measure endorsing the plan – opponents have little money to stop it – seems likely to be approved next week.

    With his firm grip on political power, Villaraigosa likes to think of himself as a West Coast version of New York’s Michael Bloomberg or Chicago’s Richard Daley. Yet at least they have demonstrated a modicum of seriousness about the job.

    In contrast, Villaraigosa, according to a devastating recent report in the LA Weekly, spends remarkably little time – about 11% – actually doing his job. The bulk of his 16-hour or so days are spent politicking, preening for the cameras and in other forms of relentless self-promotion.

    So how is this person about to be re-elected with only token opposition? Rick Caruso, the developer of luxury shopping center The Grove and one of L.A.’s last private sector power brokers, ascribes this to a growing sense of powerlessness, even among the city’s most important business leaders.

    “People feel it’s kind of hopeless. It’s a dysfunctional city,” Caruso, who once considered a run against Villaraigosa, told me the other day. “They don’t think there’s anything to do.”

    Certainly, odds against changing the current political system seem long to an extreme. The once-powerful business community has devolved into a weak plaintive lobby who rarely challenge our homegrown Putin or his allies in our municipal Duma.

    Of course, entrepreneurial Angelenos still find opportunities, but largely by working at home or in one of the city’s surrounding communities. They tend to flock to locales like Ontario, Burbank, Glendale or Culver City, all of which, according to the recent Kosmont-Rose Institute Cost of Doing Business Survey, are less expensive and easier to do business in than L.A.

    “It’s extremely difficult to do business in Los Angeles,” observes Eastside retail developer Jose de Jesus Legaspi. “The regulations are difficult to manage. … Everyone has to kiss the rings of the [City Hall politicians].”

    Legaspi, like many here, still regards Southern California as an appealing place to work, but takes pains to avoid anything within the purview of City Hall. As the economy recovers, I would bet the smaller cities around L.A. and even the hard-hit periphery rebounds first.

    The only immediate chance of relief for us Angelenos is if Villaraigosa (who will soon face term limits) takes off to run for governor. As the sole southern Californian and Latino candidate, he could prevail in a crowded Democratic primary. But the idea of this empty suit running the once great state of California – not exactly a paragon of good governance – may be enough to push even more people to the exits or, at very least, think about taking a very strong sedative.

    This article originally appeared at Forbes.

    Joel Kotkin is executive editor of NewGeography.com and is a presidential fellow in urban futures at Chapman University. He is author of The City: A Global History and is finishing a book on the American future.

  • Death of the California Dream

    For decades, California has epitomized America’s economic strengths: technological excellence, artistic creativity, agricultural fecundity and an intrepid entrepreneurial spirit. Yet lately California has projected a grimmer vision of a politically divided, economically stagnant state. Last week its legislature cut a deal to close its $42 billion budget deficit, but its larger problems remain.

    California has returned from the dead before, most recently in the mid-1990s. But the odds that the Golden State can reinvent itself again seem long. The buffoonish current governor and a legislature divided between hysterical greens, public-employee lackeys and Neanderthal Republicans have turned the state into a fiscal laughingstock. Meanwhile, more of its middle class migrates out while a large and undereducated underclass (much of it Latino) faces dim prospects. It sometimes seems the people running the state have little feel for the very things that constitute its essence — and could allow California to reinvent itself, and the American future, once again.

    The facts at hand are pretty dreary. California entered the recession early last year, according to the Forecast Project at the University of California, Santa Barbara, and is expected to lag behind the nation well into 2011. Unemployment stands at roughly 10 percent, ahead only of Rust Belt basket cases like Michigan and East Coast calamity Rhode Island. Not surprisingly, people are fleeing this mounting disaster. Net outmigration has been growing every year since about 2003 and should reach well over 200,000 by 2011. This outflow would be far greater, notes demographer Wendell Cox, if not for the fact that many residents can’t sell their homes and are essentially held prisoner by their mortgages.

    For Californians, this recession has been driven by different elements than the early-1990s downturn, which was largely caused by external forces. The end of the Cold War stripped away hundreds of thousands of well-paid defense-related jobs. Meanwhile, the Japanese economy went into a tailspin, leading to a massive disinvestment here. In South L.A., the huge employment losses helped create the conditions conducive to social unrest. The 1992 Rodney King verdict may have provided the match, but the kindling was dry and plentiful.

    This time around, the recession feels like a self-inflicted wound, the result of “bubble dependency.” First came the dotcom bubble, centered largely in the Bay Area. The fortunes made there created an enormous surge in wealth, but by 2001 that bust had punched a huge hole in the California budget. Voters, disgusted by the legislature’s inability to cope with the crisis, recalled the governor, Gray Davis, and replaced him with a megastar B-grade actor from Austria.

    Yet almost as soon as the Internet bubble had evaporated, a new one emerged in housing. As prices soared in coastal enclaves, people fled to the periphery, often buying homes far from traditional suburban job centers. At first, it seemed like a miraculous development: people cheered as their home’s “value” increased 20 percent annually. But even against the backdrop of the national housing bubble, California soon became home to gargantuan imbalances between incomes and property prices. The state was also home to such mortgage hawkers as New Century Financial Corp., Countrywide and IndyMac. For a time the whole California economy seemed to revolve around real-estate speculation, with upwards of 50 percent of all new jobs coming from growth in fields like real estate, construction and mortgage brokering.

    As a result, when the housing bubble burst, the state’s huge real-estate economy evaporated almost overnight. Both parties in the legislature and the governor failed miserably to anticipate the impending fiscal deluge they should have known was all but inevitable.

    To many longtime California observers, the inability of the political, business and academic elites to adequately anticipate and address the state’s persistent problems has been a source of consternation and wonderment. In my view, the key to understanding California’s precipitous decline transcends terms like liberal or conservative, Democratic and Republican. The real culprit lies in the politics of narcissism.

    California, like any gorgeously endowed person, has a natural inclination toward self-absorption. It has always been a place of unsurpassed splendor; it has inspired and attracted writers, artists, dreamers, savants and philosophers. That’s especially true of the Bay Area—ground zero for California narcissism and arguably the most attractive urban expanse on the continent; Neil Morgan in 1960 described San Francisco as “the narcissus of the West,” a place whose fundamental asset was first its own beauty, followed by its own culture of self-regard.

    At first this high self-regard inspired some remarkable public achievements. California rebuilt San Francisco from the ashes of the great 1906 fire, and constructed in Los Angeles the world’s most far-reaching transit system. These achievements reached a pinnacle under Gov. Pat Brown, who in the 1960s oversaw the expansion of the freeways, the construction of new university, state- and community-college campuses, and the creation of water projects that allowed farming in dry but fertile landscapes.

    Yet success also spoiled the state, incubating an ever more inward-looking form of narcissism. Even as the middle class enjoyed “the good life” — high-paying jobs, single-family homes (often with pools), vacations at the beach — there was a growing, palpable sense of threats from rising taxes, a restless youth population and a growing nonwhite demographic. One early expression of this was the late-1970s antitax movement led by Howard Jarvis. The rising cost of government was placing too much of a burden on middle-class homeowners, and the legislature refused to address the problem with reasonable reforms. The result, however, was unreasonable reform, with new and inflexible limits on property and income taxes that made holding the budget together far more difficult.

    Middle-class Californians also began to feel inundated by a racial tide. This was not totally based on prejudice; Californians seemed to accept legal immigration. But millions of undocumented newcomers provoked fear that there were no limits on how many people would move into the state, filling emergency rooms with the uninsured and crowding schools with children whose parents neither spoke English nor had the time to prepare their children for school. By 1994, under Gov. Pete Wilson, the anti-immigrant narcissism fueled Proposition 187. It was now OK to deny school and medical services to people because, at the end, they looked different.

    Today the politics of narcissism is most evident among “progressives.” Although the Republicans can still block massive tax increases, the predominant force in California politics lies with two groups — the gentry liberals and the public sector. The public-sector unions, once relatively poorly paid, now enjoy wages and benefits unavailable to most middle-class Californians, and do so with little regard to the fiscal and overall economic impact. Currently barely 3 percent of the state budget goes to building roads or water systems, compared with nearly 20 percent in the Pat Brown era; instead we’re funding gilt-edged pensions and lifetime guaranteed health care. It’s often a case of I’m all right, Jack — and the hell with everyone else.

    The most recent ascendant group are the gentry liberals, whose base lies in the priciest precincts of San Francisco, the Silicon Valley and the west side of Los Angeles. Gentry liberalism reflects the narcissistic values of successful boomers and their offspring; their politics are all about them. In the past this was tied as much to cultural issues, like gay rights (itself a noble cause) and public support for the arts. More recently, the dominant issue revolves around environmentalism.

    Green politics came early to California and for understandable reasons: protecting the resources and beauty of the nation’s loveliest landscapes. Yet in recent years, the green agenda has expanded well beyond that of the old conservationists like Theodore Roosevelt, who battled to preserve wilderness but also cared deeply about boosting productivity and living standards for the working classes. In contrast, the modern environmental movement often adopts a largely misanthropic view of humans as a “cancer” that needs to be contained. By their very nature, the greens tend to regard growth as an unalloyed evil, gobbling up resources and spewing planet-heating greenhouse gases.

    You can see the effects of the gentry’s green politics up close in places like the Salinas Valley, a lovely agricultural region south of San Jose. As community leaders there have tried to construct policies to create new higher-wage jobs in the area (a project on which I’ve worked as a consultant), local progressives — largely wealthy people living on the Monterey coast — have opposed, for example, the expansion of wineries that might bring new jobs to a predominantly Latino area with persistent double-digit unemployment. As one winegrower told me last year: “They don’t want a facility that interferes with their viewshed.” For such people, the crusade against global warming makes a convenient foil in arguing against anything that might bring industrial or any other kind of middle-wage growth to the state. Greens here often speak movingly about the earth — but also about their personal redemption. They have engaged a legal and regulatory process that provides the wealthy and their progeny an opportunity to act out their desire to “make a difference” — often without real concern for the outcome. Environmentalism becomes a theater in which the privileged act out their narcissism.

    It’s even more disturbing that many of the primary apostles of this kind of politics are themselves wealthy high-livers like Hollywood magnates, Silicon Valley billionaires and well-heeled politicians like Arnold Schwarzenegger and Jerry Brown. They might imagine that driving a Prius or blocking a new water system or new suburban housing development serves the planet, but this usually comes at no cost to themselves or their lifestyles.

    The best great hope for California’s future does not lie with the narcissists of left or right but with the newcomers, largely from abroad. These groups still appreciate the nation of opportunity and aspire to make the California — and American — Dream their own.

    Of course, companies like Google and industries like Hollywood remain critical components, but both Silicon Valley and the entertainment complex are now mature, and increasingly dominated by people with access to money or the most elite educations. Neither is likely to produce large numbers of new jobs, particularly for working- and middle-class Californians.

    In contrast, the newcomers, who often lack both money and education, continue in the hierarchy-breaking tradition that made California great in the first place. Many of them live and build their businesses not in places like San Francisco or West L.A., but in the increasingly multicultural suburbs on the periphery, places like the San Gabriel Valley, Riverside and Cupertino. Immigrants played a similar role in the recovery from the early-1990s doldrums. In the ’90s, for example, the number of Latino-owned businesses already was expanding at four times the rate of Anglo ones, growing from 177,000 to 440,000. Today we see signs of much the same thing, though it often involves immigrants from the Middle East, the former Soviet Union, Mexico or South Korea. One developer, Alethea Hsu, just opened a new shopping center in the San Gabriel Valley this January — and it’s fully leased. “We have a great trust in the future,” says the Cornell-trained physician.

    You see some of the same thing among other California immigrants. More than three decades ago the Cardenas family started slaughtering and selling pigs grown on their two-acre farm near Corona. From there, Jesús Sr. and his wife, Luz, expanded. “We would shoot the hogs through the head and sell them off the truck,” says José, their son. “We’d sell the meat to people who liked it fresh: Filipinos, Chinese, Koreans and Hispanics…We would sell to anyone.” Their first store, predominantly a carnicería, or meat shop, took advantage of the soaring Latino population. By 2008, they had 20 stores with more than $400 million in sales. In 2005 they started to produce Mexican food, including some inspired by Luz’s recipes to distribute through such chains as Costco. Mexican food, notes Jesús Jr., is no longer a niche. “It’s a crossover product now.”

    Despite the current mess in Sacramento, this suggests some hope for the future. Perhaps the gubernatorial candidacy of Silicon Valley folks like former eBay CEO Meg Whitman (a Republican), or her former eBay employee Steve Wesley (a Democrat), could bring some degree of competence and common sense to the farce now taking place in Sacramento. Sen. Dianne Feinstein, who’s said to be considering the race, would also be preferable to a green zealot like Jerry Brown or empty suits like Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa or San Francisco’s Gavin Newsom.

    But if I am looking for hope and inspiration, for California or the country, I would look first and foremost at people like the Cardenas family. They create jobs for people who didn’t go to Stanford or whose parents lack a trust fund. They constitute what any place needs to survive: risk takers who are self-confident but rarely selfish. These are people who look at the future, not in the mirror.

    This article originally appeared at Newsweek.

    Joel Kotkin is executive editor of NewGeography.com and is a presidential fellow in urban futures at Chapman University. He is author of The City: A Global History and is finishing a book on the American future.

  • Oregon Fail: With Hard Times Ahead for Business and Real Estate, It’s Time to Look Small

    There is something about Oregon that ignites something close to poetic inspiration, even among the most level-headed types. When I asked Hank Hoell recently about the state, he waxed on about hiking the spectacular Cascades, the dreamy coastal towns and the rich farmlands of the green Willamette Valley.

    “Oregon,” enthused Hoell, president of LibertyBank, the state’s largest privately owned bank, from his office in Eugene, “is America’s best-kept secret. If quality of life matters at all, Oregon has it in spades. It is as good as it gets. It’s just superb.”

    As developer Shelly Klapper, a rare skeptic in the Beaver State, reminded me: “This is a state that buys its own hype.”

    Hype or not, however, Oregon is hurting – something that’s clear to even the most self-respecting narcissist. Over the past year, Oregon’s economy has fallen off a cliff just about as fast as any state in the union.

    A year ago, things seemed very different. Sunbelt boom states like California, Arizona and Nevada were already heading into deep recession, but green Oregon seemed oddly golden. Both its small cites and one big town, Portland, were outperforming the national norms. Oregonians saw their state as better – not only in terms of green and good, but also in terms of basic job growth.

    But since last winter, Oregon’s unemployment rate has soared from barely 5.5% to well over 8%, the sixth worst in the nation. Indeed, according to a recent projection by the University of California at Santa Barbara (UCSB), Oregon’s jobless rate could reach close to 10% by the end of the year.

    Well into 2010, Oregon’s overall economy will shrink more rapidly than the nation’s as a whole, notes UCSB forecaster Bill Watkins. He traces a sharp downturn there to many factors, including one of the toughest regulatory regimes in North America.

    In tough times, companies generally expand in localities that are friendly to commerce – say, states like Texas or nearby Idaho. Few would rate Oregon highly in that regard.

    “Oregon is mostly a place that focuses on the enjoyment of its space, and that makes [it] very vulnerable in these conditions,” Watkins says.

    The other big problem has to do with a lack of economic diversity. Oregon has been through tough times before. For much of its history, the state’s economy depended largely on harvesting its vast forests. Then, in the 1980s, the state developed a green bug, and decided it shouldn’t chop down Mother Nature for a living.

    In the ensuing decade, Oregon pioneered tough land-use regulations, curbing industries that relied on forest products and declaring war on suburban sprawl. Its main city, Portland, became the poster child of the “smart growth” movement by forcing up density, building an extensive light-rail system and restoring its urban core.

    Although widely praised, these stringent regulations also drove up land prices and, ironically, prompted many middle-class residents to move away, including across the border into Washington. Businesses, rather than cluster in the state’s core, continued to migrate to the outer rings; in the relatively healthy year of 2005, for example, barely 10% of Portland’s office space growth took place in the central district.

    “We give lip service to the economy here,” admits Klapper, a longtime Portland entrepreneur and a former official with the Port of Portland. “But, really, business is not a priority here.”

    For a while, Klapper notes, the tech sector seemed to offer the solution. In the ’80s and ’90s, chip makers fleeing even higher costs in California flooded into Oregon, which was proudly dubbed the “Silicon Forest.” In an unusual move, the state provided tax breaks to the chip makers, which helped. The state’s suburbs also proved attractive to tech workers who could afford a far better quality of life there, in terms of schools and housing, than they could in the Golden State.

    But as regulations tightened and costs to businesses and families increased, even the high-tech industry began to fade. Always a political bellwether state, Oregon has moved inexorably left, increasingly dominated by both its public sector and the particularly strong green movement. Semiconductor expansion soon started to go south – or in this case, further east (to Idaho) or across the Pacific to Asia.

    Only one thing remained to drive the economy: housing. A torrent of Californians were heading north – cashing out of the overpriced Bay Area, Sacramento and Los Angeles – and buying new homes in Oregon. Some sophistos sashayed their way into trendy places like Portland’s Pearl District, but many others looked to the charming smaller towns of the Willamette Valley and central Oregon.

    “When all else failed, it was people moving here that kept us going,” says Klapper, who was a major investor in the Pearl District renaissance. “California became our biggest industry.”

    This dependence turned into a debilitating addiction. When in 2007, the great California housing bubble collapsed, the inflow of people and dollars dropped off. Meanwhile, the remnants of lumber industry fell victim to the housing bust.

    Nowhere are the effects of this clearer than in Bend, a spectacular town of 75,000 located amid volcanic peaks in the center of the state. Californians had considered Bend a favorite spot for second homes and relocation. About a year ago, notes real estate appraiser Steve Pistole, prices were rising 2% a month, while those in Portland were “only” rising 8% a year.

    But to visit Bend now is to be in the eye of the housing hurricane, with nearly deserted housing tracts, woefully empty hotels and residential second-home developments. Unemployment in the housing arena, according to the UCSB, could reach 15% next year.

    We can also expect a further slide in housing prices. Oregon’s bubble, notes analyst Wendell Cox, inflated later than California’s, so prices, which have dropped more than 10% in the last year, could fall by that much or more in the next.

    Yet despite all these problems, many Oregonians remain optimistic. Some of this seems, at least fundamentally, a reflection of ideology. The inevitable huge surge of “green jobs” promised by the Obama administration has long been an article of faith in the state; it seems something like a story we’d tell our children to put them to sleep. State officials, for example, speak wistfully of replacing a recently shuttered Korean-owned Hynix chip plant with a facility to make solar panels.

    The bad news is this: 49 other states – some of which don’t pose such strong regulatory challenges – also hope to bring home some of these green jobs. So if business logic applies, the new factories that manufacture wind turbines, propellers or solar panels will end up in states like North Dakota or Texas, which have been the most successful, thus far, at attracting other manufacturing jobs.

    So what trail should Oregon blaze now? Pistole, the real estate appraiser, says it may be time to think small. Places like Bend, he notes, already attract former Silicon Valley veterans who like living close to trout streams, hiking trails and golf courses.

    “There is no magic bullet for Oregon,” says Pistole, who himself moved from California just three years ago. “But there could be lots of onesies, twosies, mom-and-pops. People still want to live here. We have to make it synergistic to live where you want and still make money. That’s the way we need to go.”

    Some entrepreneurs, like 38-year-old Michael Taus, are already setting up such small shops, some of them in their homes. A recent arrival from Los Angeles, Taus made it big as one of the founders of Rent.com, which was sold to eBay in 2005. He’s only lived in Bend for a few months, but he has already launched his own start-up and consults for several other local firms.

    Taus believes others of his generation will want to establish businesses in Oregon, lured by both its lifestyle and affordability. Some of the new business may be in software, Taus says, but others could sprout in specialty agriculture, wood products and other industries.

    “People are here for a reason. There’s a good amount of talent, and you can get more here,” he says earnestly. “There’s a great potential. We just have to get down to business.”

    This article originally appeared at Forbes.

    Joel Kotkin is executive editor of NewGeography.com and is a presidential fellow in urban futures at Chapman University. He is author of The City: A Global History and is finishing a book on the American future.