There was something magical about the partially deconstructed Smith College Library. I found the brick walls — without a roof and no-longer-a-building — beautiful in the landscape.
Imagine St. John Cantius Church, as it is or partially deconstructed, as the focal point for a park or garden occupying the now-vacant lots on both sides of Phillips Place. Imagine indoor and outdoor space for community meetings and events.
Lots of things have changed since I moved to Northampton 45 years ago, but one thing seems constant: people want to live here. Indeed, more people than the housing that’s available — especially affordable housing. In response, the city planning department, working over the years with a string of mayor’s and city council’s, has adopted an urban planning strategy called infill: “new development sited on vacant or undeveloped land within an existing community, and enclosed by other types of development.”
The general goal is to expand housing options in neighborhoods in or near the city center in order to reduce sprawl. Zoning had to be changed over the last decades to accomplish this. Some of us in my downtown Ward 3B neighborhood, like residents in Bay State and other areas in the city, have tried unsuccessfully over the years, to block zone changes and a number of infill projects citing their negative impact — more traffic, noise, light and air pollution, a crumbling infrastructure, loss of open space — and the fact that we’re already a high density neighborhood. And, we’ve tried to say something else about the quality of life and other aspects of the neighborhood — and the city — that we value, which would be lost by increased development.
Our concerns have been mostly ignored; and there are accusations of NIMBY-ism (not in our backyard) in the public conversations. Do we know there’s a housing crisis? That housing’s an important social/economic justice issue? Yes and yes. But still, I don’t want some of these projects — literally — in our backyards or crowding out existing open space in the neighborhood without more careful, more serious consideration of concerns from residents.
Because, as it turns out, it’s not just me and what others see as a group of mostly older, privileged people holding onto some no-longer-viable, outdated and old-fashioned notion of a life thinking about this. Researchers, architects and urban planners are weighing in on infill, considering the effects of increasing urbanization and population density on humans — on human development, on our feeling of well-being, our physical, social, mental and emotional health.
It’s a mixed review, and there are lots of unanswered questions. What is the density threshold, for instance. At what point are the possible positive benefits of infill offset by negative impacts of increased urbanization?
There are questions about overall good-health. Infill is supposed to encourage more active living — biking and walking — but urban lifestyles also contribute to current “lifestyle diseases” such as heart disease, stroke, depression, diabetes and obesity.
There’s the question of green spaces, large and small, attached to houses, or situated nearby. Are they “really” necessary? And what is the value of a view? Research done in the 1980s showed patients with a view — especially of a tree — from their hospital window recuperated faster, experienced less pain and took less medication. Similarly studies found people in apartments with a view had more positive interactions and better relations with their neighbors.
To some extent, the literature on infill emphasizes consideration of the very issues neighborhoods have been raising, without success. Northampton has adopted infill and the necessary zoning changes to accomplish it, as a blanket development strategy without context or adequate consideration of legitimate, site-specific concerns. We’ve been talked at by developers and city officials, but not listened to. Not really.
The one-size-fits-all zoning and the push to infill open spaces has been demoralizing. And, it fails to take people into consideration — people who inhabit the city now and those who will come after us.
Danish architect Jan Gehl has spent his highly successful career doing something many architects fail to do: considering humans and asking the question, what is a good habitat for homo sapiens? His work answers that question in projects implemented around the globe. A good human habitat —a healthy, sustainable, human-scale built environment — is one that considers people, space and buildings in that order.
I’m afraid Northampton planners are implementing things in the opposite order: buildings, space and then, finally, and sometimes as an afterthought, people. I’m hoping the city will rethink its current infill approach and —as Jan Gehl suggests — put people, humans and their needs, rather than buildings in the center of development policies.
Then perhaps, we might have a garden/park on the corner of Hawley Street and Phillips Place with an historic structure serving the needs of a new generation of residents while reminding us of those who lived here before us, and invested themselves in that church. Or, we might have something else. But do we need more high-end housing?
Claudia Lefko lives in Northampton.