ADVOCACY AND COMMUNITY PLANNING: NOW MORE THAN EVER
From the Progressive City: Radical Alternatives Editorial Committee:
Over the course of the year, we will be reprinting some of our most widely read past articles from Progressive Planning Magazine, which are still relevant for the present. These will include commentaries and reflections from the authors of the relevance of the issues for our present moment.
The article that follows is entitled “Advocacy and Community Planning: Past, Present and Future”. It was written by Tom Angotti in 2007 and it is preceded by his current reflections on the need for a truly radical form of advocacy planning today.
It has been 11 years since I wrote this article linking advocacy and community planning. It remains relevant today, especially given the resurgence of white supremacy, misogyny and American exceptionalism. Marie Kennedy followed it with a call to move beyond advocacy planning to planning that is transformative – that is, planning where the power resides in those that have historically been left out of power. The environmental justice movement has also redefined community planning as a means for redistributing environmental burdens, confronting climate injustice, green gentrification and disaster capitalism.
In New York City, as in many other cities, the promise of democratic, transformative community-based planning has been foreclosed for the time being. Between 2002 and 2014, billionaire mayor Michael Bloomberg massively rezoned the city to promote real estate development while paying lip service to community planning and ignoring community plans. This resulted in a conflagration of luxury development and widespread displacement in communities of color. After seeing how the city ignores even community plans that were officially approved, communities have stopped doing them.
Community planning is still mostly mainstream and hardly progressive. A new generation of planners has been equipped with formulas and recipes for community planning. They know how to conduct visioning exercises, record information, and write up summaries. They know how to turn general ideas into concrete development proposals. They are entirely process oriented and pose as value-neutral technocrats. They claim to be color blind and gender neutral. These denials obscure their tacit acceptance of the rules and limitations that government, real estate and the growth machine impose on their “community planning” games.
Planning schools and the profession are now equipped with powerful new tools enhancing this technocratic power. With GIS, green technology and computer-assisted design, planners have moved even further away from people.
Alas, race (still) matters. How can we be advocacy planners without directly confronting the deep structures of racism? The mass incarceration of black and brown people since the “war on drugs” has robbed generations of their rights as citizens. Yet planners organize “public participation” that usually excludes the victims of injustice and those who do not or cannot come to the table.
It is no longer enough to point out the role of structural racism in urban planning. In a profession that is still largely white, we need to look at the persistence of white privilege. It’s not enough to understand how communities of color are underserved and displaced; just as critical is an understanding of white privilege and the disproportionate power exercised by white communities, a white power structure and white planners.
Paul Davidoff wrote about advocacy through the lens of civil rights in the 1960s, when the nation was sharply divided between poor black and brown central cities and wealthy white suburbs. The geography of segregation has changed, and now the suburbs themselves are segregated. Fifty years after the national fair housing law, this is still a segregated nation. However, segregation is the symptom of the deeper structural problems of institutionalized racism. Advocacy planners today need to rejoin the renewed civil rights movements. With Black Lives Matter, we need to address the core economic and social problems and develop long-range political strategies to address them.
ADVOCACY AND COMMUNITY PLANNING: PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE
The term advocacy planning was coined by Paul Davidoff in his famous 1965 article and is today required reading in planning schools throughout the nation. But to many students today, advocacy planning is a quaint and outdated notion, a product of the bygone civil rights era. We acknowledge Davidoff’s critique of mainstream physical planning and its neglect of minorities and the poor, then move on to our work. The more neutral concept of “community planning” has supplanted advocacy planning. Community planning is the new mainstream approach that frequently submerges the progressive elements that emerged under the rubric of advocacy planning.
But advocacy planning is still the foundation for all progressive planning today. It is relevant because it allows us to distinguish between progressive community planning and the generic community planning. If we go back over Davidoff’s ideas, we’ll see how they have profound implications for planning practice today and far-reaching implications for the future.
DEFENDING COMMUNITIES FROM DESTRUCTION
The condition for advocacy is the struggle to defend communities from destruction by orthodox urban renewal schemes. Such struggles set the stage for the long career in politics and planning of Boston’s Mel King, who noted how “…somebody else defined my community in a way that allowed them to justify destruction of it.” King’s advocacy was based on firsthand knowledge of the rich and contradictory human environment and social relations that are the essence of community. These relations, not land, are what our neighborhoods and cities are all about.
While its philosophical roots can be traced to the Enlightenment and liberal economic theory, advocacy planning was an innovation of the 1960s, a direct consequence of the engagement of urban planners in the civil rights movement, the struggles against the displacement of low-income communities by the federal urban renewal program. It also stemmed from and fed the opportunities for innovation offered by the federal War on Poverty, including the Model Cities Program. The theory of advocacy planning arose not simply from Paul Davidoff’s mind but from the multiple practices by community activists and professionals to redress issues of racial and class oppression. It confronted a planning profession that focused narrowly on the physical city, rationalized the destruction of “slums” by urban renewal and sided with powerful real estate interests, and that was overwhelmingly a club of white males who claimed for themselves a position of technocratic superiority over protesting communities. While advocacy planning was a prescription meant for urban planners, the theory applies to all professions and disciplines that confront the political and ethical dilemmas bound up in their practices—social work, public health, public administration and all of the social sciences that deal with urban policy.
Paul Davidoff’s “Advocacy and Pluralism in Planning” appeared in the Journal of the American Institute of Planners in 1965. Its main points were:
The planner isn’t solely a value-neutral technician; instead, values are part of every planning process.
City planners shouldn’t attempt to frame a single plan that represents the “public interest ” but rather “represent and plead the plans of many interest groups.” In other words, planning should be pluralistic and represent diverse interests, especially minority interests.
So-called “citizen participation” programs usually react to official plans and programs instead of encouraging people to propose their own goals, policies and future actions. Neighborhood groups and ad hoc associations brought together to protest public actions should rightly do their own plans.
Planning commissions set up as supposedly neutral bodies acting in the public interest are responsible to no constituency and too often irrelevant. There is no escaping the reality that politics is at the very heart of planning and that planning commissions are political.
Urban planning is fixated on the physical city: “The city planning profession’s historical concern with the physical environment has warped its ability to see physical structures and land as servants to those who use them.” Davidoff said that professionals should be concerned with physical, economic and social planning. In a line that was relevant to the founding of the Hunter College urban planning program, he said: “The practice of plural planning requires educating planners who would be able to engage as professional advocates in the contentious work of forming social policy.”
Davidoff’s theory was matched by his practice. He founded the Suburban Action Institute, which challenged exclusionary zoning in the suburbs. He was a member of Planners for Equal Opportunity (PEO), the first national organization of advocacy planners.
Paul’s legacy lives on in Planners Network, the successor organization to PEO that started in 1975, and its magazine, Progressive Planning.
ADVOCACY AND COMMUNITY-BASED PLANNING IN NEW YORK CITY
Advocacy planning has strong roots in New York City, as this was one of the most hotly contested urban battlegrounds for civil rights and against displacement. Davidoff refers in his 1965 article to The Alternate Plan for Cooper Square, which was completed in 1961 in direct response and opposition to the Robert Moses proposal to wipe out eleven blocks in the Lower East Side. The Cooper Square plan was guided by Walter Thabit, founder and leader of PEO who passed away last year. It was the first community-based plan in the city, took forty-five years to implement and resulted in a phenomenal redevelopment of the 11-block area with an unprecedented 60 percent of all housing units for low-income households. Cooper Square also founded the first community land trust in the city.
In 2001, a group of us launched the Campaign for Community-Based Planning, which advocates for all of the things Davidoff called for. Today there are over seventy community plans in the city, many of which were produced by advocates, not “value-neutral” technicians. Many of the plans were led by folks like Yolanda Garcia of the Bronx, a woman who never had any professional training. Many of the plans evolved out of protests against official plans that were supposedly in the “public interest” and introduced social and economic issues into the heart of the planning process when the official plans ignored them. For the most part the community plans are inclusive and respect a plurality of interests (though not always). This flurry of community-based planning, which has outdone the city’s official planning body, is living proof that the planning commission is irrelevant. What remains to be done is to legitimize this pluralistic planning, a task which our campaign is now undertaking.
AFTER THE 1960S
Advocacy planning doesn’t have to be a fossilized concept from the 1960s. Though the civil rights movement has ebbed, black-white divisions are complicated by a new array of ethnic divisions and identities. During the Nixon years the War on Poverty was subverted and during the Reagan years Reagan unleashed a counter-revolution that undermined critical public policy instruments for achieving racial equality and equal economic opportunity. Under Reagan, affirmative action became reverse discrimination, poor people were blamed for poverty and public assistance was cut back—even as tax cuts and subsidies continued to flow to the rich. With the collapse of the socialist camp, neoliberalism became religion and Margaret Thatcher’s brag that “There Is No Alternative” was internalized by many, including activists and professionals. And perpetual foreign wars, now an indefinite war against “terrorism,” have long been diverting resources needed to solve solvable urban problems.
But throughout the U.S. and world, new social movements have arisen since the 1970s. These movements, with both their practices and new theories, have proven that “Another World Is Possible,” to use the phrase of the World Social Forum.
In the U.S., many progressive professional planners went to work in public agencies and became quiet advocates from within. Norman Krumholz popularized the term equity planning based on his own practice as planning director under Cleveland Mayor Carl Stokes, the first African-American mayor of a major U.S. city. Feminism had a profound impact on planning by uncovering the many and diverse practices of women that have shaped cities and neighborhoods. Leonie Sandercock’s Making the Invisible Visible is but one expression of this, and it was a woman, Jane Jacobs, who produced the classic critique of physical planning, The Death and Life of Great American Cities. The environmental movement also brought forth many advocates of radical change, but more on that later.
These and other developments have produced what today we call “progressive planning.” In my view, this is more than just the sum of all of these theories and practices. An indispensable part of progressive planning today is the focus that advocacy planning started with—opposition to the conditions that produce and reproduce the inequalities of race and class. Without that, advocacy would be just a conservative appeal for pluralism—everybody do their own thing and don’t challenge existing relations of economic and political power. Sit in your “value-neutral” cocoon and watch the world go by.
It is no coincidence that one of the new, invigorating sources of progressive planning around the country and in New York City is the environmental justice movement. It is no coincidence because environmental justice brings together once again a concern for the physical environment with a commitment to social justice. There would be no environmental justice movement if the traditional environmental organizations had incorporated social justice into their missions, just as there would be no progressive planning movement if the establishment organizations truly became advocates for social justice. Like planners, the mainstream environmental groups deal with environmental issues as strictly in “the public interest.”
The latest generation of community plans in New York came out of environmental justice campaigns, including plans for: Williamsburg, Greenpoint, Red Hook and Sunset Park, all in Brooklyn; the deconstruction of the Sheridan Expressway; the Bronx waterfront; West Harlem’s waterfront; and citywide waste management by the Organization of Waterfront Neighborhoods. Planning for environmental justice reunites the latest generation of physical community planning and social justice.
Another set of community plans are bringing us back to the place the Cooper Square plan started—the struggle against urban renewal powers that favor upscale development over community preservation and development. The Melrose Commons plan in the Bronx is one of the best known, but there is also the West Harlem Plan, an alternative to Columbia University’s land grab, and the UNITY Plan, a community-based alternative to Forest City Ratner’s Atlantic Yards in Brooklyn. These struggles against displacement and destruction of communities, embodied in these plans, are giving rise to a whole new generation of advocacy planners.
In conclusion, there are strong connections between advocacy planning yesterday and today. I’ve emphasized the connections and not the disconnections—the latter of which there are many. It is easy to overlook the profound historic changes that have taken place in the political world, the changing nature of cities, the limitations of the advocacy framework and the need to reframe and redefine advocacy. But there are some sobering facts that suggest that the agenda of advocacy planning and the civil rights movement from the 1960s has yet to be fulfilled. Today the proportion of people of color in the planning profession is still inadequate, and it is shocking that the proportion of African Americans in graduate urban planning programs hasn’t changed substantially and is still less than 3 percent nationwide. This suggests that advocacy will continue to come from outside the profession, even if everyone in the profession has to read Davidoff’s landmark essay to get a degree.
Tom Angotti is Professor Emeritus at Hunter College and the Graduate Center, City University of New York and recently edited with Sylvia Morse Zoned Out: Race, Displacement and City Planning in New York City.
