Roles

The Next Urban Comeback

October 29, 2019 By Otis White

I was fortunate to have a front-row seat for the greatest urban story of the late 20th and early 21st centuries, the revival of America’s downtowns. A few scenes from that story:

When I started paying attention in the mid-1970s, downtowns were at their lowest point. With the rise of the automobile, families had started moving away from downtowns in the 1920s, followed by retail in the 1950s and offices in the 1960s.
By the 1970s, what was left in many downtowns was government, the courts, law offices, a few office towers, and a handful of once-grand churches struggling to hold on to their congregations. Some had a historic theater, a civic center, or a stadium that drew crowds a few nights a week. But main streets were pockmarked with empty storefronts, and on most evenings the sidewalks were deserted.
It wasn’t until the 1990s that downtowns found the keys to success: adaptive reuse of old buildings, housing, wider sidewalks, streetscaping, transit, density, waterfront access, mixed uses, business improvement districts, sidewalk dining, activities and concerts, and a dozen other New Urbanist-inspired strategies.
Today, downtowns are being revived everywhere in Georgia, from Savannah to Columbus, Augusta to Atlanta. And in new cities like Sandy Springs and Johns Creek, downtowns are being created where none existed before.

The comeback of downtowns isn’t complete but the goal line is in sight. So it’s time to consider: Where will the next great urban revival take place? My guess: in neighborhoods.

You can see neighborhood revival in some cities. In Atlanta, the Beltline is fueling a rush of development into nearby neighborhoods. In other cities, neighborhoods with historic homes and traditional street grids attract outsiders. As a result, you might think cities’ greatest problem is gentrification.

Gentrification is a serious issue, but decay and abandonment are even greater problems for most cities. So how do we turn around declining places and do so in ways that include those living there now?

It gets complicated because, when it comes to reversing neighborhood decline, we’re in the same place as downtowns in the 1970s. We don’t have a playbook. Parts of the downtown playbook might work in some neighborhoods: walkability, mixed uses, transit, and so on. But much of it won’t.

Even more complicating, we had help from big commercial interests in downtowns. We won’t have their help in neighborhoods. And taxpayers will be even less supportive of spending money in other people’s neighborhoods than they were of investing in downtowns. After all, downtowns are used by everyone. Neighborhoods are mostly for their residents.

So whom do we turn to in reviving neighborhoods? Who will write the playbook of neighborhood revitalization? And where do we get started?

My suggestion: Begin with the only genuine asset that neighborhoods have, their residents. Get them involved and organized, help them to learn about positive neighborhood change, then let them share in decision making and provide some of the effort. In other words, create partners so that the city government is no longer doing things FOR neighborhoods, but doing things WITH neighborhoods.

Where will these partners come from? From strong, representative neighborhood associations, along with crime-watch groups, friends of neighborhood parks, community-garden groups, PTAs, small-business associations. Really, any group focused on making a neighborhood—or even a single block—better.

In some neighborhoods, such groups do not exist. That’s why city governments from Riverside, Calif. to Longmont, Colo., Phoenix to Philadelphia are helping residents organize them. There’s no reason we couldn’t do the same in Georgia.

But for this to work, city leaders must practice restraint. In the case of neighborhoods, a wise approach is to help residents organize, learn, discuss, and come to consensus on a short list of achievable projects before the government makes its commitments. Oh, and be sure the neighbors contribute something to the effort, even if it’s just working alongside city crews or offering the proceeds from a bake sale.

After all, groups that have helped scrub graffiti from buildings, sold cakes to turn a vacant lot into a community garden, or worked with police to shut down a drug house won’t let the graffiti come back, the garden fall into disuse, or the drug dealers return. Not without a fight. And that is what cities need if we’re going to turn around troubled neighborhoods: committed, effective partners willing to fight for the places they live.

A version of this posting appeared on the Georgia Municipal Association website.

How a Leader Assembles a Winning Team

April 4, 2019 By Otis White

The Buffalo Niagara Medical Campus in Buffalo, New York is so successful today, it’s hard to imagine it didn’t always exist. But it dates only to 2002, when five institutions agreed to collaborate in planning their adjacent properties and recruiting others to join them on the 120-acre campus.

How successful has BNMC been? Matt Enstice, its president and CEO, recites the numbers off the top of his head: from 4.5 million square feet in 2002 to 9 million today; from 7,500 employees to 16,000; from five institutions to nine anchor institutions plus 150 nonprofits and companies. Fueling all this has been $1.4 billion in private and public investment.

So when Enstice and others began talking about the campus idea in 1999, everyone could see its merits, right? Well, no. The five original institutions, which included a hospital, a cancer research and treatment center, a university, an independent research institute, and a large medical practice, didn’t exactly oppose the idea but weren’t convinced it would work, either.

“It took a huge amount of volunteer time,” to get the medical campus idea off the ground, said one of the founders, Tom Beecher, an attorney and veteran civic leader. Assurances were made to the institutions: This would not be a governance organization and would not replace existing boards. Skeptical neighborhood organizations had to be convinced that these institutions would welcome their ideas. Foundations and political interests had to be persuaded.

And then there was the sheer weight of cynicism. You see, the idea of a medical campus in Buffalo wasn’t a new one in 1999. It had been tried before. Several times. At one point Enstice gathered all the failed plans. “I had a stack of plans up to my waist,” he remembers, “and I’m six feet tall.”

So how did Enstice, Beecher, then-Mayor Anthony Masiello, and consultant Richard Reinhard turn the idea of a collaborative, entrepreneurial medical campus from repeated failure to success?

They did it the way great civic leaders always do these things: They saw the way forward, creating not just a plan but a strategy. That’s a critical distinction. Lots of people, it seems, are good at creating plans, but it’s a rare leader who knows how to move from plan to reality.

This was the case in Buffalo in the 1990s, where many could see the city’s needs. (A big one: What could replace our fading manufacturing economy?) Some could even see solutions. (How about building around one of our bright spots, the city’s medical and biosciences economy . . . perhaps by centering it in a campus?)

But only an experienced and respected leader could see how to put the pieces together by assembling a team of planners, advocates, and strategists, anticipating the objections they would face, shaping the arguments, finding money for starting the effort, identifying early wins, and building momentum.

Fortunately, Buffalo had such a leader in Mayor Masiello. His talents lay in three areas: He had relationships with the right people, he knew how government worked and what it could do, and he was a natural cheerleader. He also had a good sense of timing. He recognized that, in 1999, there were changes at the top of the medical community, so there was a little more openness to trying something new.

His first step was probably the most important one. Masiello picked the right people for this project. Beecher had deep relationships in the philanthropic and health care communities (he had chaired one of the hospital boards). Enstice and Reinhard, who had been Masiello’s chief of staff, were natural organizers with a deep understanding of communities. And Masiello was comfortable leading from behind, as cheerleader, early funder, and remover of political obstacles.

Along the way these four made smart tactical choices. Example: How they invited people into the planning effort. Their rule: You could participate only if you brought money, which they called “skin in the game.” This built commitment to the project and cleared out the time-wasters and political hangers-on who had bogged down earlier efforts. Another example: When they created the BNMC board, they suggested each of the large institutions have two representatives, one of whom must be the institution’s chair. Their thinking: While the CEO would be focused on the institution, the chair would have a longer, broader view of the city’s wellbeing. Again, it built commitment to the idea of a collaborative campus.

There were a half-dozen other things the team did well, from finding and exploiting early “wins” to involving the neighborhoods in exactly the right way. Knowing that Buffalo was, as Masiello puts it, a “seeing-is-believing town,” they led leadership tours of successful medical campuses around the country.

But none of this would have been possible without the decisions made early on by Mayor Masiello: When is the right time to get started? Who are the right people to lead this effort? What obstacles will they face? And what can I do to help them succeed?

A version of this posting appeared on the Governing website.

Photo of the medical campus and downtown Buffalo, courtesy of the Buffalo Niagara Medical Campus.

What Smart Mayors Can Learn from the Turnaround of Central Park

December 12, 2018 By Otis White

Of all the urban turnaround stories of the past 50 years, none is more impressive to me than the restoration of New York’s Central Park. When I got to know Central Park in 1973, it was sliding into urban wasteland. Vandals had wrecked its buildings and defaced its statues. Every surface was covered in graffiti, even its rocks. Trails were overgrown with invasive shrubs, and the park’s magnificent meadows had been trampled into dust bowls.

And, then, of course, there was crime. In 1981, police recorded 781 robberies in Central Park, but that was surely only a fraction of what took place there. Many victims did not bother to report crimes. Even the cops who patrolled the park did so only in the safety of two-officer cars.

If this is still your image of Central Park, then you owe it a visit. The 840-acre park, whose first section opened to the public in 1858, has been returned to its original beauty. People are using it in record numbers (there were 43 million visitors last year), but no longer abusing it. The trails are inviting and the grass is lush and green again. And as one who has walked across it recently, I can report it is as safe as any place in the city.

So how did this great turnaround happen? There were many factors, but the most important was that New York found a way of managing public spaces through shared responsibility. Founded in 1980, the Central Park Conservancy was the first nonprofit to take the lead in restoring and managing a major city-owned park. Since then, scores of similar organizations have sprung up around the country, from the Balboa Park Conservancy in San Diego to the Piedmont Park Conservancy in Atlanta.

If you’re thinking of starting a nonprofit like this in your city, I have good news. The founder of the Central Park Conservancy, Elizabeth Barlow Rogers, recently published a memoir, “Saving Central Park,” that will take you inside the Conservancy’s amazing success. You’ll learn Rogers’ “three Ps”: “patience, passion, persistence.” You’ll discover the value of a vision. In her case, it was a desire to return the park to its 19^th-century design. And you’ll learn why a detailed plan of restoration is important for guiding staff and raising money. (It gave the Conservancy, Rogers explains, “the equivalent of a donor shopping list.”)

These are valuable things to know if you’re starting such a group. But I’d like to turn things around and ask what local-government officials could learn from the Central Park experience. If a group of citizens wanted to form a group to restore a park in your city, what should a smart mayor do?

The first thing is to recognize what nonprofits are good at and where they are weak. Their strengths are their focus, inventiveness, and ability to raise money and muster volunteers.

And weaknesses? They’re not good at managing public perceptions. At one point or another, it seems, the Central Park Conservancy angered nearly every group claiming an interest in the park, from birdwatchers to tennis players. And when it did, it was vulnerable to the “who appointed you?” charge. Lesson: A smart mayor will coach nonprofits on politics and occasionally bail them out of controversies.

Not surprisingly, in the case of Central Park’s renaissance one group with a high level of suspicion was city parks employees. Had the Central Park Conservancy not started when it did, as the city was still on the edge of bankruptcy, it is hard to imagine that the parks department would have ever welcomed the nonprofit’s help. Lesson: A smart mayor will spend time counseling city employees on the value of strong outside partners, because all they will see at first are threats.

Finally, a smart mayor will be patient because strong nonprofits aren’t born that way. They become strong over time, as they accomplish things, learn from their mistakes, recruit a strong board and staff, and find their vision and voice.

So a smart mayor will give a fledgling conservancy some space to grow. The Central Park Conservancy worked for 17 years with nothing more than a handshake agreement with three mayors. Only in 1997 did the city feel confident enough to turn the keys of the park over to its staff. Today, every worker in Central Park, including city employees and Conservancy staff, reports to the Central Park administrator, who happens to be the president of the Conservancy. (Important to note: The Conservancy also supplies three-quarters of the park’s budget.)

That level of competence, public trust, and institutional strength isn’t built overnight. And a smart mayor doesn’t just give power away. But when she finds the right partners, she’ll trade power for results.

A version of this posting appeared on the Governing website.

Photo by gigi_nyc licensed under Creative Commons.

What Government Is Good At

January 12, 2017 By Otis White

Not much in life is certain, but of two things I am sure:

The secret to improving cities lies in collaboration. That is, in getting numerous independent interests working in coordinated ways on big problems.
One of the secrets of effective collaboration is knowing what each partner is good at, so each contributes from its strengths.

If I’m right about this, then we need to think deeply about what each participant can bring to a collaboration. And we should begin with government, since it will be central to almost every ambitious civic undertaking.

But first, let me urge my friends in government to give up that most human of instincts, defensiveness. If we aren’t willing to acknowledge that there are some areas where we don’t excel, then we’ll never work effectively with others.

This can be difficult in public life because governments face a chorus of critics ready to pounce on any shortcoming. What can I say? It takes courage to be a leader. But it also takes faith that, as you build successful collaborations, your list of critics will grow shorter as your list of admirers grows longer. So have the courage to say where you need help.

What would those areas be for governments? Most likely they would include coming up with new ideas, which tends to occur early in the collaboration process.

Why aren’t governments good at creative new ideas? Because they tend to be like old-fashion department stores. They offer many things, most of them as commodity services. This rewards a wide view and clearly thought-out routines, but not innovation.

Some of the interests governments collaborate with, by contrast, will be more like niche retailers: They sell one or two things but do so at amazing depth and variety and are constantly looking for new ways of doing things. So why not use these groups’ knowledge, passion, and focus to bring new ideas to civic undertakings?

Having trouble picturing this? Think of a collaboration aimed at attracting more young people to a city. The city government will surely be one of the partners, but others might include the chamber of commerce, the local university, entertainment venues, apartment developers, and, one hopes, some actual young people. Which participants in this collaboration would you expect to offer the most promising ideas?

Collaborations are about more than ideas, of course. They’re about creating workable solutions and seeing these solutions put in place. So as a collaboration moves toward decision making and implementation, the strengths of government become critical. The three most important strengths that a government offers are fairness, scale, and steadfastness.

Fairness is a value that you’ll have to help your partners understand and appreciate. They’ll see it, at first, as delay. But government processes are designed to ensure that everyone gets a voice—and, in doing so, they can reveal the flaws in our plans and show us their unintended consequences. So while government officials should accept others’ leadership in generating new ideas and approaches, their partners have to realize that public decision making depends on . . . well, the public being involved.

The other two, scale and steadfastness, are obvious but rarely appreciated strengths of government. The best example of scale at work is water conservation. By making changes in their building codes (mandating that new construction and renovations use more efficient plumbing), cities have dramatically reduced the amount of water each household uses over time.

New York, for instance, was consuming 1.5 billion gallons of water a day on average in 1979. By 2009, it had reduced its daily consumption by a third to just over 1 billion gallons even as its population grew by nearly 12 percent . . . with almost no one noticing the changes. Now, that is scale!

It’s also a lesson in steadfastness. Unlike businesses and even nonprofits, governments tend to stick with what they do. The reason New York reduced its water consumption so dramatically is the government never wavered in its commitment.

So as you begin collaborations, government leaders should ask for help with ideas. But they should outline what their partners can expect in return: The government will listen widely and decide carefully. But, once committed, it can offer real, measurable change. And by and large, it will keep its promises.

A version of this posting appeared on the Governing website.

Photo by torbakhopper licensed under Creative Commons.

Return to Sender

September 14, 2016 By Otis White

In February 1945, John Gunther sat at Fiorello La Guardia’s elbow for eight hours and 20 minutes and watched him work. Gunther was a famous journalist. La Guardia was New York’s mayor and was even more famous—a short, profane whirling dervish of energy and ideas.

La Guardia did not disappoint. As Gunther watched, the mayor made decisions in machine-gun fashion, riffling through letters and reports on his desk, barking at his three secretaries, interrogating subordinates. He even found time to hold a press conference while seated at his desk.

No item, it seemed, was too small for La Guardia’s attention. When the president of the New York Board of Education dropped by, he grilled her about lunchroom decorum, personnel transfers (he told her he would handle one of them personally), and pay raises. They argued a while about whether an administrator should get a $500-a-year raise . . . or a $1,000 raise. At La Guardia’s insistence, he got $500.

Gunther was stunned. As he wrote later, “Mr. La Guardia really runs the entire machinery of New York City, in all its dazzling complexity, singlehandedly.”

Some regard Fiorello La Guardia as America’s greatest mayor ever. Maybe, but he was a terrible manager. If you are a mayor, agency director, or someone managing a complex civic project, think carefully about La Guardia’s management style—and then run from it as fast and far as possible.

That’s because La Guardia was what we would call today a “micromanager,” and by inserting himself into so many decisions he undermined those who worked for him. In short, we don’t need mayors or top administrators to be involved in minutia. We need them to make strategic decisions that bring major results.

So consider this two-part test next time you’re handed an issue: Can this decision be made at a lower level by those who will be directly involved in its implementation? And if the decision is made at that level, is it likely to affect other interests? If the answer to the first question is yes and the answer to the second is no, then your response should be, “That’s for you to decide.” If the answer to the second question is yes, your response should be: “Pull together a group to make this decision and make sure these people are involved.” Have a nagging sense that something might go wrong? Then add: “And when you reach a decision, run it past me.”

Pushing decision making to the appropriate level is one of the most important things a manager can do for three reasons. First, all things being equal, it will result in better decisions. Believe it or not, teachers and cafeteria workers know more about lunchroom decorum than mayors. It makes sense, then, to have those closest to decisions—especially those who’ll implement them—involved in the solutions.

Second, it forces you to think about decision making as a process and not just an act. And the more you think about the process, the better you can teach it to others. As you push decisions down, remind your managers of how good decisions are reached: with the right information, the right people, the right decision-making processes. Show them how to keep discussions open and frank, to consult widely about possible solutions, and to consider testing solutions before fully implementing them.

Finally, pushing decisions down puts the emphasis where it should be, on hiring and training the right people. You cannot run a driver’s license bureau, a downtown redevelopment project, or the entire government of New York City by yourself. But you can, over time, staff it with good managers who’ll make good decisions because they learned how to do so . . . from you.

A version of this posting appeared on the Governing website.

Photo by Bill Smith licensed under Creative Commons.

The Next Urban Comeback

How a Leader Assembles a Winning Team

What Smart Mayors Can Learn from the Turnaround of Central Park

What Government Is Good At

Return to Sender

About Otis White

The Great Project

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