The city council’s comprehensive plan committee, chaired by Joy Hollingsworth, spent much of its two-hour meeting on Wednesday morning lambasting staffers from the city’s Office of Planning and Community Development, who were there to describe the past three years of public engagement on the comp plan, for purportedly failing to do the right kind of public outreach (flyers in mailboxes) to the right kind of people (property owners).
At various points in Wednesday’s meeting, council members claimed OPCD had ignored advocates for “neighborhood character” in favor of “fringe policy wonk types” (Rob Saka); said existing residents weren’t consulted about the new neighbors they will have “to live with” if the plan goes through through (Cathy Moore); and argued that homeowners who’ve decried the plan in public comment don’t oppose housing, they’re just upset at the “lack of broad engagement” about the plan (Maritza Rivera).
“We need to do a better job of bringing in public comment,” Moore said. “My takeaway is that when you actually manage to get broader engagement, you actually found that there was a lot less buy-in to the plan that had been put forth,” she continued. “And what troubles me is that when it became clear that there was less buy-in from the people that are going to have to live with this development on the ground, there’s still no willingness to truly engage and refashion this” plan.
Later that evening, the council would take public comment for five and a half hours. The first several hours, starting at 5pm, were dominated by longtime homeowners arguing that housing would destroy the environment and make Seattle unlivable. As they had at previous meetings on the plan, many of the public commenters complained that no one had told them about the public meeting where they were giving public comment.
The comprehensive plan update aligns the city with a new state law requiring all cities to allow up to four units of housing, such as a duplex and two accessory units, on every residential lot. It also includes 30 new “neighborhood centers”—small nodes of density within 800 feet, or a three-minute walk, of existing commercial areas or frequent transit stops. These neighborhood centers, where modest three- to six-story apartment buildings would be allowed, have become a flash point in the comp plan discussions. Ironically, or predictably, a majority of the new council members—including Saka, Moore, Joy Hollingsworth, and Bob Kettle—explicitly endorsed a comp plan alternative during their campaigns that included 18 more neighborhood centers than the plan many of them are objecting to as too dense now.
For the second time in several weeks, Moore railed against potential neighborhood centers inside and outside her district, claiming the change would “open the floodgates to… unlimited development” everywhere in the city. Moreover, she said, it makes no sense for the council to give up a key bargaining chip against future density by approving neighborhood centers in areas where the current residents don’t want apartments anyway.
Addressing OPCD director Rico Quirindongo, Moore said he appeared to be saying that OPCD would allow the city council to designate the zoning details of each neighborhood center in future legislation, which is true. But what Moore said she was “hearing” from Quirindongo was “‘You give us a [neighborhood center] designation, then we’ll negotiate the height.’ My position is, why bother negotiating the height? Because I think down the road, we are looking at keeping the door open to putting up five- and six-story buildings, because we’ve zoned it that way. So that is not a sufficient response.”
To which housing advocates might say: Yeah. Allowing more housing, whether it’s three stories or six, is the entire point of increasing density in places where people want to live, like neighborhoods with easy access to transit. The proposed Maple Leaf neighborhood center, at 90th and Roosevelt, is one mile away from two light rail stations—Northgate and Roosevelt—and has frequent bus service serving both. It’s hard to conceive of a more favorable spot for modest transit-oriented development.
Moore wasn’t done. She wanted to know why, “if we can send out a flyer about social an initiative on social housing, we ought to be able to send out a flyer about a comprehensive plan that is going to completely remake the way the city looks for the next 10 and 20 years—not only looks, but operates.” (Again, we’re talking about 30 neighborhood nodes that stretch a block or two into Seattle’s low-density urban sprawl). Moore appeared to be referring to a political flyer paid for by the campaign for Proposition 1B, a private political effort that received no funding from the city.
At another point, Moore also claimed the comprehensive plan would “remov[e] parking”—using “we’re not going to have any parking” as a reason to doubt that the city will really plant new trees in public parking strips. In fact, the plan would roll back current minimum parking mandates for new housing. It would neither remove existing parking nor restrict developers from building it.
Maritza Rivera agreed with Moore that there has been “a lack of broad engagement” on the plan, and added that many of her Northeast Seattle constituents do support “more housing,” but want an opportunity to express their concerns about trees, parking, and where that housing should be allowed. “I have a lot of constituents who have kids who can’t afford to come back and live where they grew up,” she noted. Rivera’s district includes the University District, home to many thousands of young renters, yet her example of a “constituent” concerned about housing prices is a homeowner whose kids can’t afford a house here.
Moore’s complaint about a lack of “broad engagement” is interesting, because the city has never failed to engage with anti-density property owners, who organize themselves politically in groups with names like “Tree Action Seattle,” “Seattle Fair Growth,” and “The Queen Anne Community Council.” What’s different this time is that the city also made a concerted effort to reach groups that have historically been excluded from the process of deciding where housing will go and how much there will be. As OPCD’s outreach summary notes, the city reached out to “specific racial, cultural, and other- marginalized communities,” contracting with community groups that “serve communities—particularly BIPOC populations—that have been historically left out of the City’s engagement processes.”
Actions that promote equity can feel like discrimination to people who are used to being the only voices in the room. Twenty years ago, you didn’t hear homeowners complaining that renters were getting too loud and uppity, because renters didn’t have a voice at city hall—they just weren’t a factor. Now that they are, the BANANA lobby is trying to turn YIMBY into a dirty word.
Will it work? A majority of the council seems poised to remove at least some of the neighborhood centers from the plan, rolling back potential housing in some of the areas where it makes the most sense. Then again, there’s a chance that some council members may back away from some of Moore’s more radical ideas, such as requiring that anyone who wants to build four units on their property must make two of the units affordable to low-income people. The poison-pill requirement would ensure that no such housing gets built, effectively end-running the new state mandate that cities allow up to four housing units per lot.
On Wednesday, Moore said that contrary to what some seem to believe, it isn’t true “that we’re going to solve all the problems for renters by just building a lot of housing,” adding, “you’re not going to get stabilized rent.” No one is claiming that more housing is the unitary solution to the city’s housing crisis (nor has anyone said brand-new apartments will be either cheap or rent-controlled), but it is a necessary condition. In the future, Moore might consider spending less time listening to homeowner complaints about the people they might “have to live with” and more hearing from constituents who just want more places where they’re allowed to live.