(First of a Series)
As you greet the New Year, those of you living in our smaller urban
communities could find yourselves in quite different situations. Some will wake up in growing, reviving towns
that can actually lay claim to the term “community.” In others, the morning will reveal a reality
considerably less optimistic. This
variation represents a historical sea change in urban history since the dark
days of the 1970s and 1980s. Some of our
towns are “coming back;” but some aren’t.
We need to closely examine why this has come to be, and I will return to
the subject. But we should begin with
what they ALL had in common, the decline of their historical importance as the
centers of commerce and culture, whether on a national scale or just within a
locality.
Claiming when anything in history “began” is inherently risky (roots run
deep, and academics just love to push the chronological envelope of causation),
but I’m on reasonably safe ground when I begin the study of urban decline in
the United States after the Second World War.
This is an oversimplification, of course, as is every generalization
about history. It was at the end of the
war and afterward however, that the major decisions were made and huge social
forces began to take shape that would send our urban areas into the state we
find them in today. As a further
clarification, I will focus on the northeast and north central regions of our
country, which endured the transformation from Industrial Heartland to Rust Belt.
The basics of the urban dynamic apply in
all locations, but cities possess a redundancy that requires analysis of a
different order. My narrative
encompasses urban areas of all sizes, but my focus is on the smaller ones.
The post-war period began with what seemed like great promise for the
return of much of traditional America, now freed from Depression and War. And so it seemed, for a while, as American
downtowns did, on the whole, begin to revive.
But this was deceiving, as fundamental change was already underway. By the 1950s the economic and social clouds
had begun to gather over our urban areas, and by the late 1970s many were
experiencing what Billy Joel meant when he sang, “Well, we’re living here in Allentown, and they’re tearing all the
factories down.”
In future posts I will attempt to explain how things got to be the way
they were for our urban areas, and in many places still are. My basic thesis is that in the immediate
post-war period, a combination of forces stacked the deck against our urban
areas, and then played out a cruel game of "Disinvestment."
None of this was intentional, and by no means a conspiracy, but that
doesn’t mitigate its disastrous effects, and should only increase our desire to
better understand just what happened. Some of you are
of an age to have lived through what happened when the deal went down. Many
others live among its physical and social results.
Yet its true causes are often misunderstood. We need to understand what happened, and more
important, why it happened. If we don’t, we will carry self-defeating
myths into our discussions of what needs to be done. Bad results are very likely to follow
decisions based on myths, and it’s very late in the game to continue making the
same bad mistakes because we continue to believe in the same old myths.
The name of this game was Disinvestment, and my previous post
introduced you to the fact that it is not over.
What takes time is explaining even a part of what the word means. In its broadest sense, it means exactly what
it says: the wealth and capital (they are not the same) that had previously
been concentrated in our urban areas was removed (or simply not replaced) and
directed instead to what we will broadly term “the suburbs.” Among the most significant of these capital
drains was that of human capital; all the rest basically followed. This depressing subject has been extensively
studied; acres of forests and rivers of ink have been sacrificed to tell the
story. I can only touch on a few topics,
those most closely related (as causes)
to the story, and must employ a host of generalizations as I do so. So here goes.
The process went something like this: first we moved our homes out of
the cities, then our workplaces and our shopping areas. Business capital followed the market, and
exited the urban centers for the suburbs.
Urban residences could not compete in value or attractiveness with
subsidized “modern” housing in fresh, young neighborhoods. The move of people to the suburbs, powered by
the automobile, allowed businesses, from manufacturing to retail, to follow the
city residents in their flight to the periphery. Major firms could establish new, modern
factories on previously open land; with the automobile, their workers did not
need to live anywhere near their actual place of work. Retail merchants discovered that grouping of
stores and services at the intersections of prominent local roads (along with
ample, free parking) was the way serve the population expanding into the
countryside, within a marketing area unimaginable just a generation earlier.
Notice a common factor here? The
AUTOMOBILE. They existed before the war, of course, as did early shopping centers, most notably Suburban Square in Ardmore. Ardmore, however, was an already-developed
“streetcar suburb,” not open land in the countryside, and after the war it did
not take long for the merchants of Suburban Square to realize that they had not
moved far enough away; they couldn’t obtain enough parking, and could only be
reached by congested local roads. That
congestion was the result of the Second World War’s development of the internal
combustion engine and the means to produce huge quantities of the items it
powered.
Of course the modern soon aged, as did the fresh and young aspect of
suburban living. The neighborhood part
was never achieved. It never had a
chance. Building houses was profitable;
building communities was not, and was not considered. This is, however, only a peripheral part of
our story; it should loom in the background as a reminder that gain is always
accompanied by loss. Our focus remains
reestablishing community in our smaller urban areas, the ones that existed
before the suburbs.
My mantra is that understanding the past better equips you to live in
the present and plan for the future, but I don’t want my consistent historical
focus to obscure the fact that Disinvestment in urban areas is still happening
today. That’s why I opened this series
with a post about slumlords. They are
among the principal agents of urban disinvestment, so small that they often
operate “under the radar,” particularly when a municipality does not provide
sufficient resources for code enforcement.
This question of resources is another subject I shall return to, as
history should always take a back seat to community activism (where it can provide some
back seat driving).
In subsequent posts I’ll talk about who left our towns, why they left,
and who replaced them, but I can’t resist the opportunity to next time turn the
spotlight on everyone’s favorite whipping boy, The Federal Government. Even those of you predisposed to blame it for almost anything might
be surprised on how important a part it played.
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