New Geography

Author: Pete Peterson

  • How “Public” Is the Public Sector?

    You may have heard the old joke about the convenience store with a neon sign blaring, “Open 24 Hours”. A customer stops in one morning for coffee, and confronts the store’s owner, “Your sign says ‘Open 24 Hours’, but I stopped by last night at midnight for a pack of smokes and you were closed.” The owner replies, “Oh, we’re open 24 hours…just not in a row.”

    I’ve been reminded of this exchange during one of the more intriguing battles over what “public ownership” means in California’s state parks. Governor Brown has designated 70 of them (out of 278) for closure in an effort to help close the state’s chronic multi-billion dollar budget deficit. In response, a Marin County Democratic Assemblyman, Jared Huffman, offered AB 42. The measure, which has now been signed into law, makes it easier for non-profits to enter into operating agreements with at least 20 of the parks on the chopping block. The law cuts the typical red-tape involved in forming such a “public-civic partnership”, including greater freedom in hiring and providing some added legal protections. And AB42 has been written specifically to hold local governments harmless from possible shoddy work, so lawsuits aren’t an issue. Over the last six months a number of parks have started making such arrangements and will continue to operate. But this is not without some consternation.

    The first AB42-enabled contract has recently been signed between the previously closed Jack London State Park in Sonoma County and the Valley of the Moon Natural History Association, which will handle staffing and maintenance for this $500,000 annually budgeted facility. The Association plans to cover expenses through a mix of fundraisers, volunteer labor, and creative marketing.

    Asked for her opinion on these new public-civic partnerships, state Sen. Noreen Evans (D-Coastal Northern CA) recently told The Huffington Post why she disliked the legislation: “My own philosophy is that a state park should be owned and operated by the public. Any time you turn even a portion of a state park away from public control, you always have the problem that the park’s interest becomes inconsistent with serving the public.” But this leaves open the question of what the senator means by ‘owned and operated by the public’?

    Of course a state park is ‘owned by the public’ in the broadest sense, but what control do I, as a Californian, really have over how my state parks are run? In many of these AB 42 relationships between state parks and local organizations, the public is far more involved in the maintenance and running of these places than they were before.

    In another issue I’ve written about, a group of parents and community volunteers were threatened with a union lawsuit if they persisted in their efforts to assume administrative tasks in a San Francisco Bay Area junior high school that had been hit with several years of budget cuts.

    The local chapter of the California Service Employees’ Association (CSEA), sought to prevent parents and residents from volunteering as playground supervisors and back office staff. Said CSEA local president, Loretta Kruusmagi, “As far as I’m concerned, they never should have started this thing. Noon-duty people [lunchtime and playground assistants]—those are instructional assistants. We had all those positions. We don’t have them anymore, but those are our positions. Our stand is you can’t have volunteers, they can’t do our work.”

    Notice the sense of ownership over these public sector positions. Even in the face of dire municipal fiscal situations, with stark choices between whether or not to continue services everywhere from parks to libraries, public sector unions are increasingly challenging local volunteers who are attempting to fill the gap. It is easy to wonder whom are the real “public servants” – the employees or the parents? As to complaints about the quality of volunteers, I’m not sure unprofessional behavior by volunteers outnumbers – even per capita – that by unionized/fulltime employees.

    A similar story is being written currently in the West Los Angeles area Culver City Unified School District. Here, in an interesting twist on the aforementioned tale, a service union in a local elementary school is seeking to force willingly lower paid classroom attendants to unionize, and demanding that a local charity pay for these unionized positions. The El Marino Language School has been a dual language (Spanish and Japanese) immersion program for more than two decades.

    A “blue-ribbon” school in California, the students of El Marino have scored exceedingly high in a number of categories . In order to keep the students “immersed”, the school began hiring native language-speaking “adjuncts” to work in classrooms for a few hours each day – usually a couple of days per week. An additional element to what the district usually supports, these positions – often filled by parents of current or former students with teaching experience – are supported by a group of local booster clubs.

    The longtime program apparently escaped the watchful eye of the Association of Classified Employees (“ACE”), which represents service employees in the district. Upon learning that these non-unionized “adjuncts” were working at El Marino, ACE gave the district an ultimatum: force them to unionize or allow us to bring in our own “adjuncts”.

    The current battles over how “public” libraries will be run in California casts a bright light on the use of this rhetoric by municipal unions seeking to keep out competition from private organizations. The city council of Santa Clarita, voted to withdraw from the Los Angeles County system, and contract out their three libraries to LSSI (Library Systems and Services), a private company based in Germantown, Maryland.

    The response from some residents and the library employees’ union was an outcry at the supposed “privatizing” of the public library. As the New York Times reported, protest signs at the council meeting declared, “keep our libraries public”, as if access to their libraries was going to be constrained by LSSI. As then-mayor pro tem, Marsh McLean responded, “The libraries are still going to be public libraries. When people say we’re privatizing libraries, that is just not a true statement, period.”

    Faced with the prospect of more communities deciding to offer library services through contracted firms, California’s SEIU lobbied the Legislature for passage of AB 438, which adds extra hurdles to city councils making these decisions. Proclaiming that they had “beat the privatization beast in California”, LA County Community Library Manager and SEIU Executive Board Member, Cindy Singer said, “By signing AB 438, Governor Brown put taxpayers and the public ahead of the profits of privately held corporations.” But, once again, knowing exactly what “public” Ms. Singer is referring to requires some circuitous thinking.

    Her statement is patently untrue in Santa Clarita, where, as Atlantic Cities describes, “Hours have increased. The library is now open on Sundays. There are 77 new computers, [and] a new book collection dedicated to homeschooling parents and more children’s programs.” It appears Santa Claritans have come out “ahead”.

    The macroeconomic term “crowding out” is broadly used to describe the adverse impact on private investment created by government action. The phrase also applies to the negating influence government-delivered services can have on the actions of non-profits and businesses. This is not to say that volunteers and businesses can (or should) fill all the gaps exposed by the fiscal crisis, but it may be time to consider a new phrase, as Americans assume an old role: “crowding in” anyone?

    Pete Peterson is Executive Director of the Davenport Institute for Public Engagement and Civic Leadership at Pepperdine University’s School of Public Policy.

    Flickr Photo by robinsan, Parking Volunteer

  • Green Jobs Sink Down Under

    Remember when President Obama declared that insulation was sexy? In the wake of the global economic downturn, a “green jobs” formulation has been launched, not just here, but in every major world capital. While the White House’s financial and rhetorical commitments to the creation of green jobs are significant, no administration has made these policies as central to their government as that of Prime Minister Kevin Rudd in Australia. The results there should provide a cautionary tale for President Obama, whose trip “Down Under” is currently scheduled for June.

    The creation of “green jobs” fits a simple (if not simplistic) Keynesian/Van Jonesian paradigm: Let’s pay people to retrofit their homes and offices for greater energy efficiency, and in doing so drive down unemployment and green house gas emissions in one fell swoop.

    In Australia, a hastily assembled $2.7 billion(AUS) plan to insulate over two million homes started in July has led to thousands of lay-offs, the electrocution deaths of four insulation installers, almost 100 house fires, and the demotion of Australia’s Environment Minister – former “Midnight Oil” frontman Peter Garrett. It stretches the imagination to think of a national public policy going any more wrong.

    It all seemed so straightforward last summer. In a nation where around half the homes have little to no insulation (partially due to the country’s temperate climes) and emit a significant portion of overall green house gases, the idea of giving Australians a $1,600 credit towards insulating their houses made perfect progressive sense – both ecologically and politically.

    Rudd’s Administration made the insulation plan the centerpiece of a $4 billion “energy efficient homes” package. Treasurer Wayne Swan, in his first address after Australia’s stimulus bill was passed, trotted out Craig Langstone, the owner of a small insulation company. In disturbingly glowing terms, Swan predicted happy days with the green jobs program: “Thinking of Craig Langstone makes me think about what we can do together if we try, the jobs we can create and the jobs we can save.”

    Within a month of the program’s start, problems arose. At their root was a profound breaking of central economic tenets: the laws of supply and demand. The massive and immediate Federal intrusion into the insulation marketplace created significant shortages in supply of materials, as well as of qualified labor, with deadly results. Along with this, it incentivized a huge market for scamming (or “rorting,” as the Aussies say).

    Supplies of standard, paper-backed “pink” insulation sold out across the country, leaving installers to use the much more dangerous foil-based reflective insulation. Stapling this insulation into the tight and dark attics of older homes with exposed wiring became a cruel game of “Australian Roulette”. In October following the first electrocution death of an installer using foil insulation, Malcolm Richards, president of the nation’s Master Electricians Association, forecast more danger ahead based solely on the government program: “In the normal course of events, foil products would not be used,” but with the inflated demand, workers were “grabbing whatever they can lay their hands on.”

    Meanwhile, an international con operation emerged, prompted by the opportunity to earn a quick $1,600. Installers who couldn’t even spell insulation telephoned unsuspecting Australians, urging them to remove their insulation, even though many did not qualify for the program. The Herald Sun recently interviewed a resident of Mount Martha, who received a call from an offshore telemarketer who claimed to work with the Australian Government: “I could barely understand them. They just said they were authorized by the Government. I said I already had insulation, my home was only built in 1995. But they wouldn’t take no for an answer, they said it didn’t matter.”

    There have been hundreds of cases where predominantly older Australians have been duped into having good insulation removed, only to be replaced by an inferior – and, in some instances dangerous – product. Some of these “cowboy” installers paid for their shoddy work and inexperience with their lives, others paid with their “client’s” houses; nearly one hundred homes suffered electrical fires caused by the foil insulation. A recent Federal audit revealed that 16% of homes insulated under the program do not meet government standards, while at least 8% have been made “unsafe”.

    The Rudd government’s initial response to the debacle was deflection, blaming both the installers and even the installation process. After the third installer was electrocuted in early February, Minister Garrett laid the responsibility at the feet of the dead: “Metallic foil is conductive, and when installed incorrectly, without undertaking the mandatory risk assessments and in breach of clear program requirements, this product can be dangerous.”

    Another senior administration official, Robyn Kruk, testified: “With all respect, the strategies were put in place in an industry that has inherent risk,” adding, with words which perhaps deserved more serious deliberation last spring: “There is probably only one way of ensuring a risk free environment in this regard and that is not to go into ceilings to put in place insulation.”

    The fiasco has resulted in the program’s suspension with a possible re-authorization in June.

    And as for the green jobs? Experienced insulation installers have, ironically, been swept up in the program’s failure. Insulation company owners like Tony Arundell of Eureka Insulation in Sydney find themselves on the verge of bankruptcy, having horded evermore costly supplies, which now sit in warehouses, and hired dozens of workers who now must be laid off. In a recent interview for Australia’s ABC News, Arundell, who’s run the business for almost three decades, cited the debt he’s incurred due to the Federal program. “Now we’re held with stock and Yellow Pages commitments that we can’t get out of to the value of $250,000. It’s hit us pretty hard.” He and others have let go thousands of workers who may not be available if the program re-initiates in June.

    Most disturbing is that the full deleterious impact of the program – both in safety and financially – has yet to be realized. Environment Minister Garrett recently commissioned the inspection of thousands of newly insulated homes to assure their safety at the cost of tens of millions of dollars. It is believed that almost 1,000 homes may be unsafe. Joe Hockey, spokesman for the Opposition Treasurer forecast that government costs due to future lawsuits could top $1 billion.

    For the recently fired installers, Rudd has announced a new $41 million fund for re-training. Some are understandably suspicious. Michael Tempny – another insulation company owner, interviewed by Australia’s The Age newspaper , demurred, ‘‘If it was something that was going to help my employees then I would definitely look at it, but if it’s just a way that we can re-employ them to do nothing, then that doesn’t really work.”

    All this said, the story of the Rudd government’s insulation program is not simply one of incompetence – though it is certainly that – but a tale of how an ideology clouded the minds of senior government officials in the creation of the program itself, causing them to run through a number of red lights in the pursuit of “green jobs”. A singular theme of recent attacks on both the Prime Minister and Environment Minister has been criticism of their repeated dismissals of contrarian studies and voices leading up to the bill’s passage. Garrett’s job hangs in the balance because an April 2009 independent risk analysis which warned of “major fall-out” due the rushed launch date apparently didn’t make it to his desk until February.

    Rudd turned a deaf ear to industry experts who called for better accreditation guarantees for installers, and a more customized and focused approach to the program rather than the blanket $1,600.00 credit. Last October, Opposition climate change spokesman Greg Hunt, accused: “It appears that his industry consultations made it absolutely clear that a figure of $1000 to $1100 would have been appropriate as a cap for the [insulation] rebate. Most significantly, he [Rudd] and Mr. Garrett appear to have been warned that if they over-inflated the price by fifty per cent, retailers would simply lift the price to the $1600 figure.” That’s exactly what happened.

    In light of these actions, it is difficult to view the Rudd government as anything other than a progressive bull in the policy china shop. To continue the bovine imagery, the implosion of the insulation program gores progressive oxen from Keynesianism to “green jobs.”

    But the principal of centralized decision-making must also come under severe inspection. Janet Albrechtsen, a columnist for the right-leaning Australian puts it best: “Here is a textbook lesson in what happens when government throws money at industries they don’t understand and have no business being in. In short, we are learning that the bigger the government, the bigger the problems.”

    At each stage in the policy-making process, when administrative officials were presented with options, they leaned towards the most expensive, the broadest, and the fastest course with the least amount of local input or oversight. Maybe when President Obama steps off Air Force One in Sydney later this month his first words to the Australian Prime Minister should be, “Heckuva job Rudd-y.”

    Pete Peterson is executive director of Common Sense California, a multipartisan organization that supports citizen participation in policy-making (his views do not necessarily represent those of CSC). He also lectures on state and local governance at Pepperdine’s School of Public Policy.

    Photo:

  • Get Real About Generation X Stereotypes

    Pity Generation X, the Americans born between 1965 and 1981, who have been derided for years as “apathetic,” “cynical,” and “disengaged.” Meanwhile, the greatness of the Greatest Generation is clear in its very name. Much laudatory ink has been spilled on the Baby Boomers…usually by Boomers themselves. As for the Millennials, those born between 1982 and 1998, the quantity of reportage lauding their public-spiritedness has quickly become tiresome. But a new report casts doubt on the widely accepted stereotype of Gen X-ers as inferior to these other groups.

    Sociologists Morley Winograd and Michael D. Hais, authors of Millennial Makeover: MySpace, YouTube, and the Future of American Politics, offer a good example of the usual attitude. “Millennials are sharply distinctive from the divided, moralistic Baby Boomers (born 1946–1964) and the cynical, individualistic Gen-X-ers (born 1965–1981), the two generations that preceded them and who are their parents,” they write. “Millennials have a deep commitment to community and helping others, putting this belief into action with community service activities.”

    In a Boston Globe op-ed prior to last year’s presidential election, Harvard’s Robert Putnam took things a step further, comparing Millennials to the earlier cohort that survived the Depression and fought World War II: “The 2008 elections are thus the coming-out party of this new Greatest Generation. Their grandparents of the original Greatest Generation were the civic pillars of American democracy for more than a half-century, and at long last, just as that generation is leaving the scene, reinforcements are arriving.”

    Would it be unseemly at this point to groan, “Gag me with a spoon”?

    All of this stereotyping might be more bearable if it were true. But the latest Civic Health Index study from the congressionally chartered National Conference on Citizenship (NCOC) puts both the Millennials and Generation X in a different light. The report, entitled Civic Health in Hard Times, focuses on the impact of the economic downturn on nationwide civic participation. The results, organized by generational cohort, indicate that much of the derision heaped on Generation X’s withdrawal from the public square has been misplaced.

    While Gen X-ers fall slightly behind Millennials in volunteering (42.6 percent to 43 percent), the narrowness of the gap is surprising, given the vastly greater number of volunteering opportunities available to (and sometimes mandated for) Millennials in high school and college. Gen X-ers far outdistance Baby Boomers (35 percent) in volunteering, and even outperform the real “Greatest Generation” of retired seniors (42 percent). And when asked whether they had increased their participation in the past year, Gen-X respondents scored highest, with 39 percent answering yes. This far surpassed Millennials (29 percent), Boomers (26), and seniors (25).

    Certainly this outcome might partly reflect small changes in already low engagement levels among Gen X-ers, but a deeper look reveals that they flex considerable civic muscle. Boomer respondents took the top spot when asked whether they “had given food or money to someone who isn’t a relative” in the last year, with 52.9 percent responding affirmatively, but Gen X-ers finished second (51.2 percent), followed by seniors, with Millennials placing last. When asked about a range of civic involvement activities, from “giving money, food, shelter” to more direct “volunteering,” Gen X-ers finished second to seniors — ahead of both Boomers and Millennials — in stating that they had done “all of the above”.

    As for more general political participation, recently released data from the U.S. Census Bureau show that while Millennials had a statistically significant uptick in voter participation in the November 2008 elections, they still trailed every other generation in percentage turnout. In fact, 18-, 19-, and 20-year-olds voted at the lowest percentages of any age surveyed—39.8 percent, 40.1 percent, and 43 percent, respectively. Gen X-ers far surpassed Millennials in percentage voting in 2008, 52.1 percent to 44.5. And the voter turnout for Millennials in 2008 was less than 1 percentage point higher than Gen-X-er turnout figures for 1992, the comparable election, age-wise, for the older cohort. These are hardly numbers befitting “a new Greatest Generation.”

    Moving from the issue of participation to that of trust in our largest governing institutions, the NCOC survey shows that there is some truth to the characterization of Gen X-ers as cynical. When asked, “Do you trust the government in Washington to do what is right?” Gen X-ers were the most dubious of all generations, with only 20.7 percent responding that they trusted the feds either “most of the time” or “just about always.” Compare this with Millennials (27.9 percent), Boomers (27.8), and seniors (26.2). The same trends pertain to questions about state government, though Gen X-ers’ level of trust in their local government was higher.

    This divergence between trust and participation makes sense when understood as a rational civic reaction to what are perceived as broken or distant political institutions. Gen X-ers, cautious about whether our politics can ameliorate significant societal ills, are nonetheless “voting” with their money and time to address these challenges. We may be skeptical, but we’re not apathetic.

    So why all the gushing about the Millennials? Part of the reason is the necessary examination of a new and very large generation’s coming of age, and of its participation in a democratic society. But it’s also difficult not to see a partisan element. In 2007, as researchers Winograd and Hais point out, Millennials self-identified as Democrats over Republicans by a margin of 52 percent to 30 percent. Winograd, a former adviser to Vice President Al Gore, uses this snapshot to forecast a Democratic “historic opportunity to become the majority party for at least four more decades.”

    Michael Connery, author of the recent Youth to Power: How Today’s Young Voters Are Building Tomorrow’s Progressive Majority, recently suggested, “If a ‘post-partisan’ politics is going to be ushered in on a wave of Millennial support, it will have a distinctly progressive character.” Connery concludes that it is “this optimism and belief in their own power to make positive change in the country — reflected in many polls and surveys of Millennials taken in the past few years — more than anything that accounts for the incredible surge in youth participation that we are seeing today.”

    These pundits should be careful, though, for while Millennials have registered predominantly Democratic, they’ve also shown a libertarian streak, expressing significant support for fiscally conservative policies.

    Winograd, Connery, and others (like the Center for American Progress’s Ruy Teixeira) seem less interested in touting the Millennials’ civic engagement than in celebrating their political leanings and what these might mean for the Democratic Party. In contrast, Gen X-ers began to participate politically as the youngest members of the Reagan Revolution, with most research finding us (to this day) more politically conservative than our Boomer parents.

    One wonders how much applause we would hear for Millennials if their current affiliation were reversed. As this year’s Civic Health Index demonstrates, Gen X-ers are proving to be deeply involved in civil society, even as we continue to be suspicious of big government. So while pundits keep handing out participation trophies to the Millennials, maybe this year they should save a few for the enlightened skeptics of Generation X.

    An earlier version of this article appeared in City Journal.

    Pete Peterson is executive director of Common Sense California, a multipartisan organization that supports citizen participation in policymaking (his views do not necessarily represent those of CSC). He also lectures on State and Local Governance at Pepperdine’s School of Public Policy.

  • Think Globally, Regulate Locally

    It was during a recent tour of a sun-baked Los Angeles schoolyard that theories on state regulations developed by the latest Nobel Prize-winning economist came into focus. The Da Vinci Design Charter School is an oasis in an asphalt desert. Opened this year by the appropriately named Matt Wunder, the school draws 9th and 10th graders from some of the most difficult and dangerous learning environments in the country, and introduces them to a demanding, creative atmosphere.

    The school is located just south of Los Angeles Airport. Wunder is taking advantage of the area’s proliferation of aerospace companies, and is building relationships with the likes of Boeing and Northrop Grumman, which offer financial and educational assistance. This is not the standard thinking one finds in the mammoth Los Angeles Unified School District.

    As we walked the playground we came upon two dirt-spewing holes in the blacktop, spaced about 50-feet apart. We discovered an actual human being with a shovel digging what looked like the beginnings of a mine shaft. The reason?

    California State regulations, as established by the California Architects Board, require all basketball hoops on public school campuses to be cemented into 50-inch deep holes. That’s four-feet-two inches for a basketball hoop!

    Now I am sure some scientifically sound earthquake testing at a California university found that such precautions are necessary if we are ever struck with a 9.9-Richter scale disaster. Of course, if such a thing happened we would have bigger problems than basketball rims keeling over. But a larger point became clear: In a school where creative leadership is making life-long impacts on the lives of children, the “long arm” of Sacramento has reached into the very soil, regulating how deep to dig ditches for recreational equipment. In so doing the State not only increases “construction” costs, but also incurs our disenchantment, as we consider a government that “trusts” local decision-making on curriculum, but not on hole digging.

    The theories of Elinor Ostrom, one of this year’s two Nobel Prize-winners in economics, tie in here with stunning irony. Ostrom, a political scientist at Indiana University, won the prize for her historical and economic analysis concerning the “tragedy of the commons”: the theory that, without some form of regulation, when people fish or farm “common” (non-private) property they will tend to abuse the privilege and hurt all interests in the end.

    A major underpinning of this theory is how these rule sets are most effectively developed. Ostrom found, in studies dating back centuries, that local parties –- sometimes non-governmental ones — almost always determine the best regulations, based on deliberated self-interest as opposed to centralized (and, often, distant) institutions.

    As Vernon Smith, a past economics Nobel laureate himself, recently commented on Ostrom’s work, “A fatal source of disintegration is the inappropriate application of uninformed external authority, including intervention to prevent application of efficacious rules to political favorites.” As rule-making becomes more removed from the actual location of execution, there’s a loss of “local knowledge” regarding conditions. And “interests” that tend to gather around centralized institutions have a disproportionate influence on legislation.

    At a recent conference on sustainable planning at Pepperdine University, I sat in on a discussion of “natural resource management” and heard a relevant story of competing, predominantly left-leaning interests. In one corner were the “green” energy folks who had attempted to build a massive solar “farm” in the Mojave Desert. In the same, uh, other corner, were the defenders of the desert tortoise. Not wanting to get anyone in trouble, I will just say that officials from several State and Federal departments were present to talk about how, once again, centralized decision-making had sunk an impressive project.

    Apparently, when alerted to the possibility of frying turtles under the heat of these huge solar mirrors, local park authorities provided a proposal to mitigate the loss of these reptiles through a variety of measures from fencing along the highways to moving the turtles to non-developed areas. This was not good enough for State decision-makers who, from the exalted heights of Sacramento, determined that the only legitimate course of conservation would be to land-swap the entire 8,000+-acre land parcel for another similar and suitable section for these animals. As one local official recounted, “If the goal of the policy is to save tortoises, we had that plan, which also kept the solar project alive. But the goal of the policy was to do a land exchange, which is stopping the project, and not doing all that much better for the tortoises.”

    My point in raising these two of what could be thousands of examples of overreach by the administrative state is not to dismiss government’s central and important role in advising, and, at points, regulating the actions of citizens in areas ranging from public safety to sustainable planning. Rather, it’s to demonstrate what happens when policy goals are subsumed by prescriptive policy created at levels (such as Sacramento in a state the size of California) which cannot possibly allow for unique local conditions. The goal is not just child safety, or saving tortoises, but to accomplish these in a certain way that may, in fact, prevent these greater benefits to the public good.

    This style of governance exasperates the well-intentioned in both the private and public sector, as it prevents the liberty necessary for creative and customized policy-making. This common sense approach to policy-making is, apparently, what they give out Nobel Prizes for these days.

    It was Alexis De Tocqueville who most famously realized that the genius in American governance was decentralized administration , an aspect directly contrary to the European bureaucratic experience. In words that could have appeared in Professor Ostrom’s classic, Governing the Commons, De Tocqueville wrote over 150 years ago, “When the central administration claims to replace completely the free cooperation of those primarily interested, it deceives itself or wants to deceive you. A central power, however enlightened… cannot gather to itself alone all the details of the life of a great people.”

    Let us not be so deceived.

    Pete Peterson is Executive Director of Common Sense California, a multi-partisan non-profit organization that supports civic engagement in local/regional decision-making. His views here are not meant to represent CSC. Pete also teaches a course on civic participation at Pepperdine University’s School of Public Policy.

  • Online Neighborhood: The Front Porch Forum

    Last summer, Sharon Owens had a problem. The Burlington, VT mother of three was trying to satisfy the wishes of her soon-to-be 14-year old daughter who wanted to celebrate her birthday with a canoe outing with friends. The problem was that renting the necessary canoes would have cost hundreds of dollars. Interestingly, it seemed that nearly ever other house in Sharon’s neighborhood had a canoe in the backyard, or parked under a tarp next to a garage. But Sharon, like many of us, did not know her neighbors, and felt uncomfortable asking them.

    The solution to this dilemma came in the form of a website called Front Porch Forum (FPF), a micro-community site geographically focused on a neighborhood within Burlington encompassing a couple hundred households. Within days of posting her situation to the site there were over a half-dozen canoes on her front yard. Problem solved. But more than that, a community built. As Sharon says, “not only did my daughter have a great birthday and I saved a couple hundred dollars, but now I have a genuine connection to a half-dozen neighbors. Why didn’t I know these good people years ago?”

    Front Porch Forum is the brainchild of Michael Wood-Lewis and his wife Valerie who faced a similar challenge back in 2000. Newly moved in to the Five Sisters Neighborhood in Burlington, they too had trouble connecting. When they missed word of the annual block party, a neighbor later told them: “Oh, well, I guess you gotta live here 10 years before you’re really on the grapevine.” Michael and Valerie weren’t about to wait around for a decade; they had an idea. They set up a simple neighborhood email list and stuck a flier in each of the nearby 400 front doors. As Michael tells it, attention grew slowly, but surely: “We live in a neighborhood full of active people with something to say. So people saw it as an easy way of being in touch.” Nine years after the “grapevine” conversation, more than 90% of Five Sisters subscribe with a recent survey indicating that more than half of them had posted an item to the service recently.

    But the Wood-Lewis’ did not stop there. Actually, they had little choice. When surrounding neighborhoods heard about Front Porch Forum, they wanted in. Wood-Lewis said no, since he had a better idea: he’d build one for them. Today more than 14,000 households (all in Vermont’s Chittenden County) subscribe to FPF – each in subgroups of 200-400 households – small enough to “feel like a neighborhood/local community”, says Wood-Lewis. All told, Front Porch Forum hosts a network of 130 online neighborhood forums covering its pilot region. More than 40% of Burlington, the state’s largest city, subscribes.

    Some readers at this point are no doubt saying to themselves, “Well isn’t that a nice little story, but I already use Craigslist/Facebook/MySpace”. With the birth and persistent growth of Front Porch Forum, Wood-Lewis is demonstrating something quite different from those sites: the incredible power of the internet to build physical “community”, while at the same time showing the web’s effective limits. At its root, Wood-Lewis is proving two, vital axioms pertinent to all community building, online or off: size and proximity matter.

    This isn’t a mini-Craigslist, as Wood-Lewis himself says (in words that might make Craig Newmark cringe): “Craigslist is wonderful and huge. But FPF is different. We’re all about helping clearly identified nearby neighbors connect, while Craigslist helps somewhat distant strangers have a single and often anonymous transaction.” Even as local as Craiglist tries to get it doesn’t begin to approach FPF’s micro-communities. For example, I live in the Los Angeles area, and even though that Craigslist page is broken down into six geographic sub-regions, the one where I live, westside-south bay is still home to well over a million people, spanning dozens of square miles. And, unlike FPF, I can venture into other geographic areas in search of, well, anything. It is not without reason that Craigslist’s two most popular “product” areas are “erotic services” and “casual encounters”. The latter phrase must seem oxymoronic to Wood-Lewis: a “casual encounter” in your neighborhood?

    That’s not to say that you can’t find a good used car on your local Front Porch Forum. In fact, Wolfgang Hokenmaier recently sold his minivan to a neighbor in his FPF, noting, “We had more people… showing up to look at the van who found out through the Forum than the interest generated by the Burlington Free Press, Cars.com and Craigslist combined.” Along with cars sold, there are also cats found, block parties organized, and local council meetings advertised. Community is built not just by searching for a futon, but by checking their FPF for what is happening around them. While it is not a mini-Craigslist, it isn’t a mini-newspaper either. Requests for canoes and lost cats do not an exciting newspaper make, but as a recent survey showed, over 95% of Forum members tune in to their local edition almost daily.

    FPF members are illustrating the simple truth that we’re interested in what happens around us. In part, this is de Tocqueville’s oft-quoted “self-interest rightly understood”: we want to be aware of proximate things that might help (a cheap desk) or hurt (a council meeting about a big apartment complex moving in) us. But the success of the Forums also demonstrates the power of geographic closeness in creating that “glue”, which builds communities: trust. The Forums have proven to be a great place to find baby-sitters. Of course, this is because people tend to trust those within a certain geographic area; in very real ways, we are bound to them and they to us. They are our “neighbors” (our “bors” or “dwellers” who live “nigh”). We see them and they us, whether it’s in the driveway of our neighbor’s ranch house or in the elevator of our 50-story apartment building. At the same time, FPF’s methodology builds a virtual “hedge” around that neighborhood, making sure that only neighbors can participate.

    This increase in social capital paired with a small daily dose of neighborhood news often results in people getting more involved in their local community. An independent survey found that 93% of respondents reported heightened civic engagement due to Front Porch Forum. Put another way, how much more likely is canoe-borrowing Sharon to help rebuild the local playground or volunteer with a local nonprofit after her experience around her daughter’s birthday?

    So how come we’re not seeing millions of FPF’s springing up around America? Well, it demands the two things that are often difficult to find: unremunerated time, and love for where you live. At the base of each Forum are one or two “Neighborhood Volunteers” who act as important local boosters for the site, promoting its existence and encouraging civil participation. They have no admin/editing privileges, but, interestingly, experience has shown that keeping dialogues civil is self-enforcing when neighbors know they’ll actually see each other at some point after they post. The Volunteers’ only compensation is a hearty “Thanks” from neighbors who almost unanimously appreciate the service and, of course, the benefits of living in a more connected neighborhood. As Wood-Lewis tells it, “getting folks to sign up is hard and slow work. People do NOT want to sign up for one more thing, and they procrastinate, and they hit technology hurdles, and they forget.” Still, he concludes, “FPF is incredibly successful at generating word-of-mouth neighbor-telling-neighbor buzz… this gets people to actually sign up.”

    FPF is a for-profit company that, after some initial foundation funding is only beginning to see some revenues from local advertising and fees paid by municipal departments for access to the neighborhoods. With four employees and steady growth in its pilot area, Front Porch Forum is eager to expand to other regions and is open to finding other financial partners as it helps build communities one neighborhood at a time.

    Google “online community”, and you’ll receive over 60 million results. From the “ASPCA Online Community” to the “children with diabetes community”, all of the participants have entered in to a group due to some affinity – common experiences, hobbies, ethnicity, religion, etc. – but most will never actually meet. Along with these “communities of support” are “communities of practice” – sites like Flickr and Wikipedia, where participants with particular skill sets or knowledge edit/critique/contribute to a particular product. What Michael Wood-Lewis is building in Vermont turns these models on their heads. He has created FPF to force interaction, and while people are free to sign up, they “qualify” only because of where they live, not who they are, or what they know. With this micro-geographic focus, Wood-Lewis is deepening community ties by bringing people together who may have very little “in common” save for their street address.

    What does all this mean nationally? A couple months ago, I wrote about the White House’s well-intentioned efforts to convene “national discussions” around particular policy issues. The whitehouse website, in fact, calls itself an “online community”. While it has been focused on gaining public input on policies ranging from transparency to health care, much of the online “community organizing” has taken place over at DNC headquarters, with Organizing for America, or OFA 2.0.

    Gathering local supporters to talk about the president’s policies is a far cry from the community-building of Front Porch Forums. As online gatherings get more focused on a particular subject, or expand geographically, they diminish the chances of enabling the kind of reciprocating community – the kind of neighborhood – which is most naturally found when geography is focused and interests broadened.

    Pete Peterson is Executive Director of Common Sense California, a multi-partisan non-profit organization that supports civic engagement in local/regional decision-making. His views here are not meant to represent CSC. Pete also teaches a course on civic participation at Pepperdine University’s School of Public Policy.

  • Kauai, Hawaii: Local Merchants Make Waves

    Many have by now heard or read the story of the plucky group of Hawaiians on the island of Kauai who, when faced with the loss of their businesses due to the state government’s inability to open park roads to a popular beach and camping area, took care of it themselves for a fraction of the cost and in a fraction of the time. How very Tocquevellian. Or, better, how very American. The story brings a reflexive smile to everyone who hears it, but the events cast a spotlight on the way governments at all levels interact with their communities, and how, in light of significant budget cutbacks, roles are changing.

    In his magisterial commentary on 19th century democratic culture, Democracy in America, Alexis de Tocqueville compared the initial sources of public action in European countries with the United States: “Everywhere that, at the head of a new undertaking, you see the government in France and a great lord in England, count on it that you will perceive an association in the United States.”

    De Tocqueville was overwhelmed at this penchant of Americans to collaborate in common effort. The Frenchman attributed this unique, awe-inspiring American quality to the absence of a large government or aristocratic structure. “They can do almost nothing by themselves,” he wrote, “and none of them can oblige those like themselves to lend them their cooperation. They therefore all fall into impotence if they do not learn to aid each other freely.”

    After December floods washed out the park roads, bridges, and facilities at the Polihale State Park, Hawaii’s Department of Land and Natural Resources (DLNR) studied the damage and released a statement two months later, declaring, “We know that people are anxious to get to the beach. However, the preliminary cost estimate of repairs is $4 million.” An original timeline for the work was set for late summer, but, commented local resident and surfer, Bruce Pleas, “It would not have been open this summer, and it probably wouldn’t be open next summer.”

    The DLNR’s natural response to this natural disaster was to go inward (look to its own capabilities) and upward (look for more State or Federal funds). The public’s role – if there was to be any – was to leave them alone to do the first task, and help them achieve the second; specifically, the main objective was to grab a fee-generated windfall for the department, ironically entitled the “Recreational Renaissance” fund. In February, DLNR’s Chair, Laura Thielen, pleaded, “We are asking for the public’s patience and cooperation to help protect the park’s resources during this closure, and for their support of the ‘Recreational Renaissance’ so we can better serve them and better care for these important places.” The department convened an “information meeting” in March to discuss… how residents could work with the department to open the roads? No, only to provide information on how to lobby the state for more funding.

    This approach did not sit well with area residents who depend on the park for their livelihood. It was reported that Ivan Slack, owner of Na Pali Kayaks, which operates from the beach in Polihale, summed up the community’s frustration: “We can wait around for the state or federal government to make this move, or we can go out and do our part.” Beginning in late March, business leaders and local residents organized — “associated” — to take the situation into their own hands. From food donated by local restaurants to heavy machinery offered by local construction companies, a project that was originally forecast to cost millions and take months (if not years) was nearly completed in a matter of weeks, all with donated funds, manpower, and equipment. As Troy Martin from Martin Steel, which provided machinery and five tons of steel at no charge, put it, “We shouldn’t have to do this, but when it gets to a state level, it just gets so bureaucratic; something that took us eight days would have taken them years. So we got together — the community — and we got it done.”

    This was not just a park clean-up, but a significant undertaking involving bridge-building, reconstructing rest rooms, and use of heavy equipment to clear miles of flood-damaged roadways.

    While unique in its scope, what is happening on the southwestern coast of Kauai is not completely anomalous. Due to the national budget crisis, states and cities around the country are having to take a hard look at the services they offer and find new ways to involve civil society. The organization I head up, California Common Sense, is working with cities and school districts that have to chart this new course. The failure of several revenue-raising ballot initiatives here in the Golden State has provided even more impetus to practice this outward-focused governance.

    In some respects, governments themselves are to blame for setting the service expectations of the past decades. Beginning in the mid-1980s, the “TQM” (Total Quality Management) craze in private industry found its way into the public sector, and a new language of “service provider” (government) and “customer” (citizen) followed. Government no longer was something to participate in, but something to pay for. Later in this transition, scholars like Northwestern University’s John McKnight could see that the results of this new relationship were heading towards a precipice. In an essay for The Essential Civil Society Reader, McKnight commented on this situation in terms reminiscent of de Tocqueville’s fears almost two centuries earlier: “The service ideology [in governments] will be consummated when citizens believe that they cannot know whether they have a need, cannot know what that remedy is, [and] cannot understand the process that purports to meet the need.” This, thankfully, is not the situation in Kauai.

    But we, as citizens, don’t get off the hook that easily. Certainly, we have too often taken on this role as “customer,” believing our taxes are just the prices we pay for the services we desire, from filling potholes to teaching our children. When government does not perform up to our expectations the usual response is either to decry its wastefulness or to acquiesce to higher taxes. These often unproductive reactions come from both the left and right on the ideological spectrum.

    The story in Kauai, and others bubbling up around the country, demonstrate that there is a “third way”: get some friends and pick up a shovel when the government can’t or won’t. Governments on the other side of this equation need to be open to this kind of direct participation; in fact, they should encourage it. What is happening in Polihale is not a syrupy, Rockwellian portrait. It is doubtful that this dramatic participation would have occurred without the dire financial consequences that loomed for many of the residents and businesses involved. It is a manifestation of de Tocqueville’s “self-interest rightly understood”.

    “All feel themselves to be subject to the same weakness and the same dangers,” De Tocqueville wrote, “and their interest as well as their sympathy makes it a law for them to lend each other mutual assistance when in need.” Ray Ishihara, manager of the local Ishihara Market, which has donated food for the volunteers, puts this in more concrete terms: “I think it’s great. Everybody needs help these days in this economy.”

    It is ironic that this should all be taking place in President Obama’s home state. The usually articulate Obama has sounded uncomfortable when attempting to define how he expects Americans to “sacrifice” during this financial crisis. From a policy perspective, the Administration’s only responses appear to be raising taxes on our wealthiest 5%, and, interestingly, increasing Federal funding for volunteer programs.

    One thing the President could do is travel out Kauai’s Route 50 to Polihale State Park during his next trip to Hawaii. There, he could see and celebrate what everyday Americans do when they gather in common purpose. Thanks to their hard work and sacrifice, surf’s up.

    Pete Peterson is executive director of Common Sense California, a multi-partisan organization that supports citizen participation in policymaking (his views do not necessarily represent those of CSC). He also lectures on State & Local Governance at Pepperdine’s School of Public Policy. An earlier version of this article appeared in City Journal.

  • Salinas and Self-Governance

    “Man is the only kind of varmint who sets his own trap, baits it, then steps in it.” — John Steinbeck

    Though probably not intended as a political commentary, Steinbeck’s utterance perfectly describes the current California budget crisis. And, given the revenue and service delivery relationship between cities and the state, traps can be set and baited in Sacramento, leaving mayors, city councils and city managers to step in them.

    This is what is happening today in Steinbeck’s hometown of Salinas (his childhood home is pictured), where the city faces a structural deficit of nearly $20 million, out of a $97 million general budget. Given the dramatic scope of the decisions it faces, the city government is taking a unique approach to finding solutions: gathering residents together in a series of facilitated discussions about the budget crisis. I attended one of these workshops in early April, where I watched around a hundred Salinas residents participate in a three-hour dialogue, and learned anew the challenges to self-governance, and its power.

    The first hurdle attendees encountered was informational. From the size of the deficit, to utility users’ tax revenues, to what portion of the budget is spent on cops versus parks, it was evident that most attendees had little understanding about how their city government actually functions. This is not to cast aspersions on Salinas: lack of basic civic knowledge, especially of local government, is a national tragedy, contributing to uninformed discussions that easily turn partisan. Several participants came to the workshop with single-issue views about the police chief’s salary, or the amount spent on maintenance, but when faced with the full budget picture, and other residents with contrary opinions, they soon moderated their judgments.

    Participants were forced to wrestle with the same difficult trade-offs as their elected representatives, and in so doing, learned that governing – even at the local level – is a complex process of moving interlocking levers. Using a program template developed by San Diego’s Viewpoint Learning, participants were presented with a set of three “visions” of Salinas, each with related service and revenue frameworks. A budget cut in a certain area has specific ramifications, as do tax and fee increases, but rarely do any of us participate in conversations where we have to confront such decisions. As Mayor of Salinas Dennis Donohue told me, “The gap between service expectations by the public and the public sector’s inability to deliver those services needs to be bridged.” This can only happen effectively when the public both understands and legitimately weighs its options.

    Finally, as the dialogues reached the final hour, I began to sense a change in the attitude of those hundred or so Salinans gathered in a community college cafeteria. What began as a crash course in local government civics, and moved to the plate-balancing act that is a budget process, concluded with participants taking ownership of their city. A debate at one table about a sales tax increase moved into a discussion of, “What can we do to keep our young people from moving out of Salinas after High School?” When presented to the full group, this thought was echoed, with others extolling “What it is that’s great about Salinas,” wondering how this could be communicated, and what role they might play in improving their community.

    Salinas is one of several cities around California, and around the country, employing this “participatory budgeting” process in response to painful fiscal decisions. Even cities as large as Philadelphia, with its “Tight Times, Tough Choices” project, involved over 4,000 residents in budget deliberations. Each has different elements depending on the size of the city and scope of the budget challenge, but those with the greatest impact do the following: accurately inform the public, engage them in a conversation that involves having to make legitimate trade-offs, and create a space in which residents can not only offer informed opinions, but actually participate in the building of their city.

    It seems that budget deficits are yielding surpluses in local involvement.

    Pete Peterson is Executive Director of Common Sense California, a multi-partisan non-profit organization that supports civic participation around California. He also lectures on civic engagement at Pepperdine’s School of Public Policy.

  • Planning: A Shout-Out For Local Players

    More than a century ago, Rudyard Kipling, in his American Notes, shared his views on the character of the US. Along with remarks about the American penchant for tobacco spitting, Kipling recounted the near heroic ability of Americans to govern themselves, especially in small cities and towns. Traveling through the town he called “Musquash” (a pseudonym for Beaver, Pennsylvania) in 1889, Kipling described “good citizens” who participated in “settling its own road-making, local cesses [taxes], town-lot arbitrations, and internal government.”

    Today, the pressures from state and federal governments on local planning have increased geometrically. But across America we are seeing a growing trend toward greater civic participation in land use decisions, as local residents seek to define their communities as unique.

    No longer a Deweyan dream, there are several practical reasons why city governments from Starksboro, Vermont to Hercules, California are involving their residents in important land use/planning decisions. Most important is the challenge presented to local governments by the internet, which provides elements that seriously confront even the most legitimate authority: information, and a place to gather. From city and developer websites to Google searches, research into upcoming housing projects or parks is only a few keystrokes away. At the same time, the web’s social networks offer easy and cheap places for residents to communicate with others (usually like-minded) both inside and outside the local community.

    As a result of single-issue local blogs, Facebook networks, and email campaigns, municipalities have had to become proactive in approaching their residents, including them in processes previously limited to a small group of “stakeholders.” Last year, a mid-sized city in the San Francisco Bay Area was considering the residential development of a significant land parcel, which was once commercial property. Not feeling involved in the early stages of the planning process, a localized environmental group used the internet to build a movement within the city, while it also connected with regional and national environmental organizations to find funding in support of an anti-development ballot proposition. After hundreds of thousands of dollars were spent, this “zoning by ballot” measure was defeated in November.

    A second factor that highlights the importance of intentionally involving citizens is the often-enormous financial cost of these projects for small to mid-sized cities. From land to EIRs, the costs of almost any project – especially those with a public purpose, where taxpayer dollars are on the line – have never been greater. Failing to include residents in these processes, while faster and less expensive in the initial stages, can easily end up costing more and adding months, if not years, to a timeline. In 2007, a Los Angeles-area school district had paid almost $5 million in site planning and architectural costs for a middle school building project. Upon learning that the development would demolish a local supermarket, area residents who had not been involved up to that point organized, and elected a representative to the school board on the promise that he would “stop the school.” He won, and he did, turning the multi-million dollar planning element into a sunk cost.

    This pragmatic reasoning behind civic engagement was recently supported in a 2008 study by the National Research Council. On the subject of government agencies that deal with environmental and planning issues, it concluded, “When done well, public participation improves the quality and legitimacy of a decision and builds the capacity of all involved to engage in the policy process. It can lead to better results in terms of environmental quality and other social objectives.”

    Finally, the pressures placed upon communities to grow, while at the same time control growth, have reached crisis levels in many cities. Here in California, even with the recent economic downturn, the state population is forecast to almost double from its current 34 million people by mid-century. Meanwhile, state-mandated land use legislation, like the recently passed SB 375, constricts the space available for residential development by attempting to control growth to major transportation corridors. Even before this bill passed, the battle here between open space advocates, developers and cities has made “putting a shovel in the ground” an excruciating experience. In San Mateo County (just south of San Francisco), less than 20% of the land mass is available for housing; twice that amount is designated for open space. A group of concerned citizens, including business owners, environmentalists and housing advocates, formed “Threshold 2008” to explore options for residential development. Creating a multi-stage process that has involved over 1,000 San Mateans in various online and face-to-face deliberations, leaders from the group are now working with city planners around the county to find solutions to shortages in affordable housing.

    State-level organizations like the one I work with here in the Golden State, Common Sense California, are supporting cities and towns as they try to involve their publics in these local decisions. We have found that the best engagement efforts invite the most diverse and representative group of residents possible, give them information from a variety of perspectives, and facilitate discussions in such a way that forces participants to wrestle with the issues in the same way planners, city managers, and city councils must.

    At their worst, such “participatory planning” campaigns are pre-ordained and, therefore, manipulative. Organizers can hold this control whether they’re inside government, or, like environmental groups and developers, outside of it. Explicit stakeholders, from developers to environmentalists to city officials, are most effectively engaged in the early stages, serving as an “advisory group”, helping to formulate the information packets and option sets that will be presented to the general public. Practitioners like the Orton Family Foundation and Viewpoint Learning are working with cities that are facing tough land use decisions. A growing number of planning and architectural firms are offering these services, but can be predisposed to certain planning outcomes depending on who hires them.

    Restrictions on local planning decisions made at the state level (and, someday, the Federal level?), combined with the homogenizing influences of web-based organizing supported by national organizations, have created a climate in which the challenges to cities seeking their own unique “personalities” have never been greater. Many cities and towns throughout America are discovering that the most creative solutions can be found by legitimately informing and involving local residents in these decisions.

    In this way, may there be more Musquashes.

    Pete Peterson is Executive Director of Common Sense California, a multi-partisan non-profit that consults on and supports civic engagement efforts throughout California. He also lectures on civic engagement at Pepperdine’s School of Public Policy. He can be reached at p.peterson@commonsenseca.org.

  • Pete Peterson