Smart Growth in Somerville
Part 1:  Remembering how smart we were
By William C. Shelton

We‚Äôve heard a lot lately from city government, local activists, and Commonwealth policy makers about ‚Äúsmart growth.‚Äù  It‚Äôs a set of land use, transportation, and urban design policies that represent the opposite of ‚Äúurban sprawl.‚Äù  Its main principles are to:

¬∑        Concentrate population density near transportation centers like highway and train junctions;
¬∑        Mix housing, stores, services, and workspace in the same neighborhood and, often, on the same block;
¬∑        In this way, and by thoughtfully designing public space, encourage walking and bicycle use;
¬∑        Offer a variety of housing choices and affordability levels within any neighborhood;
¬∑        Preserve and enhance cultural resources and structurally sound buildings;
¬∑        Fairly distribute the benefits and burdens of development; and
¬∑        Intersperse dense residential areas with ample and usable open space.

   In other words, smart growth is what Somerville was when our elders were children.
Factory jobs were accessible by walking or streetcar.  Every Somerville home was close to a square containing a theater; grocery, hardware, and drug stores; bars and cafes; barbers, beauty shops, banks, and other services.  Houses situated close to the street encouraged interaction.  Open space was scarce, although then, Somerville Beach was a wonderful resource accessible to all.
   In 1950, ours was the most densely populated city in the U.S.  It was also one of America‚Äôs most tightly knit, livable, and vibrant communities. 
   Irish and Italian immigrants and their children dominated the demographics.  They had brought with them their expectations of participating in extended families, parish churches, and an extensive array of civic, fraternal, sports, political, and labor organizations.
   But after practicing smart growth for almost two centuries, Somervillians started getting dumb in the late 1950s and early 1960s, seduced by the more hollow aspects of the ‚ÄúAmerican dream.‚Äù 
   They had first come to this country in search of freedom.  Their understanding of ‚Äúfreedom‚Äù was the opportunity to more fully realize their potential.  And although they would have no reason to consciously articulate it, the truth of their lived experience was this: no one can achieve their potential as an isolated human being.  We achieve it through work, love, and play.   We need each other.
   Their rich social fabric and the weak penetration of mass media insulated them from the concept of freedom that dominates American culture.  It is the idea that ‚Äúfreedom‚Äù is non-interference.  It is the cultural theme that publicly lionizes the rugged individual while privately obscuring our yearning for the community that rampant individualism makes impossible.
   When freedom is understood to be the opportunity to realize one‚Äôs potential, then other humans are seen as the medium in which that happens, and as necessary partners in one‚Äôs success.  When freedom is understood to be non-interference, then others become either instruments towards, or obstacles in the way of one‚Äôs success.  The perceived common denominator of success increasingly collapses into economic gain, which among other ways, is symbolized by the physical distance with which we can separate ourselves from our neighbors.
   This was part of the lure of the suburbs that were expanding with Post World War II economic growth.  The mushrooming mass media transmitted perceptions of the suburbs as a kind of democratic utopia. 
   Tens of thousands of Somervillians left town. Those neighborhood businesses that required a dense, compact trade area were the first to die as population density decreased.
When the factories closed, developers converted them to housing.  This eliminated spaces in which to locate new-economy jobs.  It weakened the city‚Äôs tax base and fiscal structure.
   Somervillians had to travel out of town to find new jobs, reducing the squares‚Äô daytime population yet again.  The relatively lower wages offered by those jobs, along with sweeping societal changes, further reduced the number of adults staying at home, and with them, the diversity of commercial offerings in the squares.
   Out-of-town jobs required automobiles, lowering demand for streetcars, which were dismantled.  Buses fueled by cheap oil partially replaced them.  Rapid growth in auto ownership made regional shopping centers accessible, killing more neighborhood businesses.  Traffic congestion made the city less walkable and homicidal rage over stolen parking spaces, more common.
   Despite all these changes Somerville still leads 95% of American cities in smart growth.  The built environment that Somerville‚Äôs elders bequeathed to us will provide enormous advantage in dealing with the sweeping changes that $10-per-gallon gasoline will eventually force upon the nation.  It will also bring serious challenges, the first of which may be perceived in our housing affordability crisis.