![]() I'm not chaining myself to trees, but I understand that everything I do affects the environment, and it makes me feel guilty.
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When the largest blackout in the nation's history occurred, it did not bother me too much. My neighbor and I already had had our own private, self-induced blackout. Living in similar apartments, we had a contest for the lowest electricity bill. The loser would pay the winner's bill and the winner would enjoy bragging rights.
I went without air conditioning, a definite power hog, opting instead for a ceiling fan at its slowest speed. My pre-war apartment runs cool, but at times during the summer I felt like a thin crust pizza in a brick oven.
Yet I persisted. The TV, radio, stereo, computer, and cell phone re-charger were unplugged so as not to leak electricity. There were moments when I sat in the dark, dressing in twilight, and feeling my way to the kitchen after sundown. Some might see this contest as a bit too fervent, but I found something refreshing in the darkness -- a conscience free of guilt.
Normally, my day is rife with guilt because I call myself an environmentalist. I'm not chaining myself to trees, but I'm green enough to understand my contribution to the daily depletion and degradation of our natural world.
It starts with the morning shower where freshwater pours down the drain - a precious resource steadily depleted. I do not run the water while brushing my teeth or shaving, but I still take a shower every day.
Around the corner is the local Johnny-on-the-Spot auto repairman operating on the street, cash only please. He pops open radiators and drains iridescent gunk into the storm drain. When it rains, the toxins will wash directly into the Hudson River. But I am quiet. What am I going to do, bark at a guy who simply does not know any better? Maybe I should. Maybe this is guilt by reticence.
Standing on the subway platform, a young man finishes his drink and throws his empty cup onto the tracks. I frown, but say nothing. The subway is already artificial and soiled, but that's not the point, trash goes into trash cans - that's civilization 101.
I am happy to be able to take a subway, and secretly relieved that the air-conditioning functions so well, even knowing full well the enormous amount of juice necessary to make me comfortable on my little commute.
I quickly trace the current back to the source. Most likely the energy is generated by burning fossil fuels, which change the Earth's climate for the worse. The fuel is also non-renewable, its extraction and production the source of tremendous environmental, political, and economic ills. I read newspaper headlines and see they're all about the war in Iraq. My tiny consolation is that I am not driving an automobile.
At the office, I work under perpetually glowing fluorescent lights and am surrounded by hundreds of mostly idle machines still sucking power. Even at night, the lights are ablaze. And the copiers and the printers go all day. I try not to notice how much paper ends up in the barrel or will end up there, today and tomorrow.
The image of a barren slope comes into my head from the aerial perspective of a soaring raptor. The rust red soil, without tree roots to hold it in place, washes downslope into a river shocked by the deluge. The hawk floats high over the stripped hills searching vainly for once abundant prey.
Perhaps I should be out campaigning for greener offices and smarter printers. Maybe I should walk into the CEO's office and help him understand; maybe I should dedicate my life to this singular cause. Instead, I go to lunch.
At lunch, guilt is a garnish to my sandwich. Large scale production of meat and poultry is tough on the environment -- from pesticide-sprayed and fertilizer-covered fields of feed crops that have left an area the size of New Jersey devoid of life in the Gulf of Mexico, to bacteria-laden animal waste spilling directly into waterways.
The newspaper I read on the way home and throw into one of the iron bins on the subway platform raises the question -- is it really effectively recycled? There are no separated waste streams on a subway platform. It is hard to know for sure about any of that these days.
Dinner comes around and my friend has made a nice fish dish, but hunger pangs turn into pangs of guilt. I cannot help but think she has unknowingly purchased one of countless over-fished species or one of the many species raked off the bottom of the ocean by commercial fishing trawlers, destroying essential habitat and killing scores of other creatures along the way.
After thirty days, I beat my neighbor in the electricity-bill contest by less than two dollars and resumed my normal existence of full-on guilt. We have to eat, we have to move goods and people, we have to run business and the society that sustains us, I know all that. But nothing says we have to do it the way we currently are. Hopefully, sooner than later, I will not have to sit around in the dark to feel free of guilt.
Mike Misner has written about the environment for Earth Island Journal, the New York League of Conservation Voters, and the Littoral Society.
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The recent northeast blackout has fueled proponents of building more power plants in the city. We told you so, they say, we need more power to meet rising demand. But even before anyone knows what really caused the blackout, the best guess is that it had more to do with the way power is managed in the northeast than the amount of power available. Author Greg Palast chalks it up to deregulation, which he says “was like a committee of bank robbers figuring out how to make safecracking legal.”
Still, in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, Trans Gas Energy Systems is pressing ahead with plans to locate a 1,100 megawatt power generator on the East River waterfront, in an area slated for new residential and mixed use development and a park. Trans Gas wants this waterfront site because it’s near gas transmission lines. Both the city administration and local community board have been against siting the power plant there, saying the massive structure will cast a shadow over redevelopment plans and a potential site for the Olympics 2012 games. Williamsburg Watch, a local advocacy group, tells the story and has the latest news on their web site. Also look at the Greenpoint/Williamsburg Waterfront Task Force site. A city-wide coalition, Communities United for Responsible Energy (CURE) brings together neighborhoods facing similar issues.
No Local Control in Siting
Incredible but true: New York City neighborhoods have no formal role in deciding where public utilities and other major facilities like sewage treatment plants and waste transfer stations are located. At best, community boards can cast a vote that is only advisory. Neighborhoods like Williamsburg and Greenpoint, which have a grossly disproportionate burden of such noxious facilities, have little formal power to close the door and prevent more from coming in. Williamsburg/Greenpoint processes the majority of the city’s solid waste, has the largest underground oil spill in the country, and is host to the city’s only radioactive waste site.
The New York City Charter includes a very weak requirement that in the siting of such facilities the city consider whether a neighborhood has more than its “fair share” of such facilities. Unfortunately, the fair share criteria apply only to selected projects that undergo the city’s land use review procedure and thus come before the community boards, City Planning Commission and City Council.
But City Hall also has no control over the siting of most energy facilities like Trans Gas. These are licensed by the state, which has the power to override all local land use regulations. This power to override damages the ability of every local government and its neighborhoods to plan, because state officials can come in at any time and ignore local plans. Any state agency or authority set up under the state, like the Metropolitan Transit Authority, or a bi-state agency like the Port Authority of New York & New Jersey, can override local laws whenever it pleases, without regard for the impact of their project on neighborhoods. The Metropolitan Transportation Authority, for example, put most of its Manhattan-based bus garages in Harlem, a neighborhood with one of the highest asthma rates in the country.
Every municipality gets its legal authority to regulate land use from the state, which allows municipalities to pass their own zoning laws and do their own plans. The state doesn’t do local plans or set up zoning rules. But the state undercuts the ability of local government to plan by using its powers to override. This power to override has only one possible virtue: it can foil local Not In My Backyard (NIMBY) sentiments that would make it impossible for the state to find a site for needed facilities. But what happens when the state always wants to put its projects in the same overburdened neighborhoods? It’s not that the state has a plan for the location of energy facilities. They pretty much go along with the proposals of the power industry, which always looks for the cheapest land in neighborhoods they think are politically powerless -- in particular, low-income communities and communities of color. In the neighborhoods this is known as environmental racism. (Trans Gas is said to be looking into alternative sites, but they too are in low-income waterfront neighborhoods, Sunset Park and Red Hook).
And what if the facility isn’t needed at all, as the opposition to Trans Gas argues? Even taking Con Edison’s inflated figures on projected peak demand, there are already enough new power plants licensed to operate to meet expected demand over the next five years.
Sustainable Energy Planning
What’s missing here is a long-range plan for energy provision based not only on the stated needs of power companies but concerns for the local and global environment. The U.S. consumes a fourth of the world’s energy and has only five percent of world population. It is the largest contributor to global warming. This is directly related to the U.S. model of urban development, which is based on sprawled suburban growth and dependency on cars. Sprawled, low-density development means more miles of transmission lines and more home-based appliances.
Con Edison gets at least 94 percent of its energy from non-renewable sources of energy like gas, coal and oil which are responsible for emissions that fail to meet federal clean air standards. The prices of these fuels are heavily supported by national government policies, including foreign policy. What consumers pay does not compensate for the costs to individuals and government of damages to the environment and public health. If the same priority were to be given to renewable energy sources such as solar, wind, geothermal and hydro power, the air might be cleaner. And if there were more serious attention paid to energy conservation beyond the occasional moralistic appeals to consumers not to consume too much, there might not be the need to continually expand capacity.
Homes, offices and factories in the U.S. rely on heating and air conditioning for climate control, both big energy users. Here at the local level, architects and planners are just beginning to learn how to produce buildings and cities that are more energy efficient, but for the most part these efforts are voluntary and the exception instead of the rule. Local building and zoning codes need to be changed to required maximum exposures to natural sunlight, better insulation, green roofs, and “smart” appliances, for example.
“Anything is Better”
A side effect of the Trans Gas issue is the “anything is better” syndrome. This illness occurs when neighborhoods unite and put all their efforts into stopping such a dreaded project. If they win, they lower their guard and end up accepting the first alternative that comes along. In last month’s Land Use column, I showed how the City Planning Department is proposing zoning changes that would allow for market-rate housing on the waterfront. They are hoping that the community board will forget about its plans for affordable housing and mixed use on the waterfront because anything, even luxury housing, would be better than a power plant. Inoculation against this illness requires a dedication to implementing the Greenpoint and Williamsburg plans which, after all, were approved by the City Planning Commission and City Council.
Tom Angotti is Professor of Urban Affairs and Planning at Hunter College, City University of NY, editor of Planners Network Magazine, and a member of the Task Force on Community-based Planning.
The 40-year-old Lincoln Center marriage is breaking up: City Opera is hoping to find a new home downtown and the Philharmonic is moving back to Carnegie Hall. And, after months of squabbling over budgets and plans, the chairman of what was to have been a $1.5 billion overhaul of the center's aging buildings has resigned.
Meanwhile, the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation is seeking to fill a half-million square feet of space designated for culture at the World Trade Center site. In an open invitation, the agency declared that it is "in search of cultural institutions that will establish and maintain Lower Manhattan as a world class cultural destination full of vitality, energy and diversity." Interested parties are requested to submit preliminary proposals by September.
Just as Robert Moses dreamed up Lincoln Center to revitalize a run-down neighborhood, city and corporate interests believe that culture can be a magnet for development downtown. So, the time is right to ask: what's wrong with Lincoln Center? With the benefit of hindsight, what mistakes can the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation avoid in creating the next-generation cultural center?
Lesson #1: Don't Erect Pedestals
In the late 1950s, Lincoln Center was conceived as a temple to high art, proof that New York could compete with European cities as a cultural destination. It catalyzed the creation of arts complexes in capitals across the nation, helping to redefine the role of cities at a time when businesses and families were fleeing them in droves.
Today, Lincoln Center is trying to reinvent itself -- holding parties in its courtyard, reaching out to younger and more diverse audiences, trying to overcome an aura of elitism or, worse, dullness. As part of the center's more modest plans for renovation, stores, restaurants, and a series of sloping ramps will be created along 65th street to open up the campus.
Judging from architect Daniel Libeskind's plan to restore part of the grid and create parks and other public spaces, the new World Trade Center site will be built on a human, rather than monumental, scale. Yet, the shadow of history at Ground Zero -- sacred ground to many -- will place the cultural institutions built there on a different kind of pedestal. There will be a museum to explore the 1993 and 2001 bombings of the towers, and a memorial to the victims. But, will the art that is mounted at the theaters, galleries, or concert halls be required to match the moral seriousness of the tragedy? Will producers, even unconsciously, avoid politically controversial works out of fear of upsetting the families of the dead?
Lesson #2: Don't Be Afraid of Commercialism
Building Lincoln Center proved enormously expensive -- $159.5 million, more than four times original estimates. The Metropolitan Opera House cost $12,000 a seat, at a time when opera houses were being built elsewhere for a fraction. Once expectations had been raised, production costs skyrocketed: Don Quixote, the City Ballet's lavish tribute to its new home, cost more than any other ballet in history.
Originally, Lincoln Center was to have an office tower to generate rental revenue and defray maintenance expenses. The decision to eliminate the tower, and let the city operate the underground parking lot, deprived the center of important funds that could have made it less dependent on corporate and government largesse.
World Trade Center planners should remember that it is easier to raise money for new buildings than it is to pay for their upkeep. It's unlikely that future cultural groups will join the handful of institutions that have their utility costs picked up by the city, and few private funders will volunteer to pay for air-conditioning. Following a growing trend among nonprofits, the new cultural groups should seek to maximize earned income through ticket sales, investments, rentals, stores, and educational programs. They should also pool resources. To encourage collaboration, the city could offer joint purchasing options for common products and services.
Lesson #3: Listen to the Pros
Lincoln Center's architects had to answer to many constituencies, but in many cases they failed to please the Muses. The Avery Fisher Hall was resurfaced three times in its first seven years in hopes of improving muddy acoustics. The Vivian Beaumont Theater was built with huge backstage areas to accommodate multiple sets from shows playing in repertory -- an outmoded model even then, and one that saddled the theater with unnecessary expenses.
Planning for the World Trade Center site will appropriately involve many different parties, but it is crucial that arts professionals have a prominent place at the table. In the past, public officials have proved more adept at discussing the symbolic value of arts than attending to the practical needs of directors, musicians, actors, or museum workers. Perhaps the most important lesson from Lincoln Center is that, over time, cultural spaces will have to meet many different production and aesthetic demands. To prepare for this, veteran theater architect George Izenour calls for designs that are intrinsically adaptable, with walls that move, seats that disappear beneath the floor, and sound panels that can be tuned for the occasion.
Lesson #4: Don't Think Too Big
The producers at Lincoln Center have to fill huge spaces, including a 3,800-seat opera house, 2,900-seat concert hall, and 2,700-seat theater. To succeed, each organization has to cultivate its own constituency of diehard opera fans, ballet aficionados, or theater junkies.
A new cultural center should include performance and exhibit spaces of varying sizes and work to build bridges between different audiences, taking a cue from smaller venues around the city that house film, theater, live music, and visual art. It should vary curtain times -- post-work concerts, late-night weekend performances, Sunday brunch gallery openings -- and make a commitment to keeping tickets affordable.
During the economic boom, Manhattan was arguably more successful at selling and displaying art than creating new work. The World Trade Center cultural infrastructure should make room for independent artists and cultivate the graphic arts, television, and film industries already based downtown. The Lower Manhattan Development Corporation should consider proposals from smaller and less-established arts groups, and the city should offer subsidies and tax incentives to create affordable artists' studios and living space around the cultural center.
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related article:
Remaking Lincoln Center
Lincoln Center finds itself at a turning point. Some of its facilities are outdated and will need costly repairs. The New York Philharmonic is leaving and the New York City Opera might not be far behind. Some are asking whether the concept behind Lincoln Center is still valid - and if it ever was.
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