7 Last Things #3: a few final thoughts about Atlanta as I retire the ATL Urbanist blog after 5 and a half years.
My name is Darin Givens and I’m an eco-urbanist. Everything I’ve written on this blog for the past five and a half years has been informed by my devotion to the idea that we need to make our urban places – our “built environments” – as compact as possible in order to spare room for natural ecosystems, or unbuilt environments.
This is a *tough* concept to talk about. I’ve gotten some blank stares when I bring it up. On this third-to-last post on my Tumblr blog, I’m going to take a stab at explaining what it means and I’ll also explore the challenges of being an eco-urbanist in Atlanta, a region known for its low-density urban sprawl.
The ecosystems of the Georgia Piedmont, the natural area on top of which Atlanta sits, have suffered greatly from urban sprawl. Nature needs space and connectivity – so it’s a problem when urbanized areas become spread out in a zig-zag form, like a net.
Imagine the thick cords of that net being the roads and buildings of metro Atlanta, and only little pockets of disconnected nature are able to poke through the holes. We’re fragmenting nature and that hurts biodiversity.
[“Urban sprawl, west Atlanta metro area, Douglas County, Georgia,” photo by Flickr user by Alan Cressler]
Containing Atlanta’s urban explosion
Is this kind of sprawl inevitable in Atlanta? There are people who claim that it is, chiefly because we have no barrier to contain it like other cities do. Consider Boulder, Colorado. It has a physical barrier – a massive mountain range – that prevents it from spreading out in all directions. In Atlanta we have no coastline, no mountains to provide a barrier to prevent an outward explosion of urbanization. That makes us more like Austin, Texas.
But even though Austin also lacks a coast or a mountain range, it doesn’t sprawl outward like Atlanta does. Why? Largely because of planning. They’ve focused on preventing it there since the 1990s.
[Image source]
I don’t accept the “no natural barrier” argument for Atlanta’s sprawl. Certainly the lack of barriers provides a challenge, but it shouldn’t serve as an excuse for harmful practices. We don’t need mountains or coastline. We can use a combination of respect for nature and good urban planning to guide development in a more sustainable direction.
If there’s a single phrase that sums up eco-urbanism, it’s: “if you love nature, live as far away from it as possible.” Of course we do absolutely need greenery and trees and parks in our cities to make them livable and attractive. Just don’t mistake those fragmented pieces of nature for something they are not: healthy ecosystems with complete habitats for a full diversity of native plants and animals.
Why do I stay in Atlanta?
So why am I here? Why do I stay in Atlanta instead of moving to NYC or some other place where the goodness of compact cities is already understood on a wide scale?
There are two reasons: change and inspiration. This place is always changing, and I’m constantly inspired by the good people here who are dedicated to making sure that this change takes a positive direction.
Now here’s the thing about change – it’s messy. There’s good and bad. But the key takeaway is that the Atlanta region isn’t static, so there’s a chance to take the challenges born from that “bad” change and turn them into opportunities for improving the region.
Messy changes = interesting opportunities
For example, consider the major demographic shift happening in our suburbs, where poverty has grown by leaps and bounds.
[Image source]
From 2000-2011, poverty grew in the Atlanta suburbs by 159 percent; a much higher rate of growth than what was seen in the city. This has resulted in a situation where people who can’t afford a working automobile are increasingly living in car-centric places that were built for middle class residents – ones who had little trouble buying cars and keeping them in working order.
At first this seems like the type of change that is irredeemably negative. But consider this: a boom in suburban residents who need alternative transportation options could result in greater political will for transit expansion, bike paths, and improved sidewalk coverage in places that have lacked those things.
Population growth in general can be a messy type of change. The Atlanta region is expected to house 8 million people by 2040, up from the current 5.5 million count. This growth is inevitable in a world that is increasingly more populous and that is seeing a constant shift toward urban areas, and away from rural ones.
But here again, the pressure of accommodating all these new people could prove to be a driving force in adopting more sustainable new developments – ones that fill in the gaps of already-urbanized areas rather than continuing to expand our footprint outward.
Atlantans who inspire
That’s where my second source of hope comes in: the inspired ideas of this generation of Atlantans. These aforementioned challenges – and many more – can be met by engaged citizens who want this to be a place that’s easier to walk and bike in, who want better transit, and greater equability in economic opportunities. From my experience, this generation seems to be understanding that tweaks to the structural form of the city can play a big part in meeting these challenges.
From popular happenings like Streets Alive to events organized by the local chapter of Congress for New Urbanism and the Center for Civic Innovation, the outlets for getting together, getting involved, reaching out and affecting policy are growing every year.
Here are a couple of examples of the way that inspired ideas and positive change can end up creating good urbanism in Atlanta:
1.) 50 percent of new properties developed in the region from 2009-2014 happened in walkable urban places. This includes developments including those near MARTA stations and ones near the Beltline, like Ponce City Market (pictured below, with extra cool points for reusing an old building). It’s a promising trend for good urbanism in general, and it’s an environmentally sound type of growth, because apartments, offices and stores are getting built within the existing urban footprint rather than over undeveloped land on the fringes.
2.) Positive transportation changes have happened as well. Bike commuting rose 400 percent in the first decade of this century in Atlanta. MARTA use is rising. These are positive trends that will continue to produce fewer daily car trips per household and hopefully a reduced need for land-hogging car infrastructure over time.
With all the changes and inspired ideas in Atlanta, I’d say cautiously that we’re basically winning when it comes to growing in a better form. But there’s a big caveat to that: there’s no plan in most places in the region for preventing new sprawl from happening. News stories come out from time to time heralding the end of doldrums in the construction industry thanks to a new subdivision getting built in the exurbs. Convincing leaders of the benefits of good urbanism should be an ongoing effort.
Another big caveat: find someone who lives in the region’s existing car-centric sprawl – who can’t afford a functioning car – and that person will probably not agree that we’re “winning.” For the sake of both safety and class equity, retrofitting sprawl for further infill and for walkable infrastructure is something that local governments across the region need to address.
But isn’t sprawl part of Atlanta’s identity?
Can Atlanta achieve widespread buy-in on the benefits of better built environments? Or do we just throw our hands up and accept the news headlines that tell us Atlanta is the sprawl king of the U.S. and allow that to be a key part of our regional identity?
I say “no!” Reject that identity. These sprawled-out, car-centric environments have become a social justice issue and an environmental justice issue. This is, in essence, our New Orleans flood. It’s our Detroit economic devastation. And just as those places are now defined by the way they are overcoming those hurdles, Atlanta can be the place that overcomes sprawl damage. This is the generation that can do it. So let’s embrace that new identity and own the issue, for the sake of creating a healthier society and a healthier environment.
Sweetwater Creek State Park