#E005
Two developers walk into a city planning commission meeting ...
November 29, 2024
The Story
Two developers were trying to get the final go-ahead for their new multi-family housing projects. These two projects were just a block apart, located right outside a downtown historic district. But what happened at the planning commission meeting was pretty unexpected. The commissioners — and one city council member in particular — agreed with the staff report that the first developer needed to include brick on their concrete-frame building to fit the historic character of the neighborhood.
Now here’s where it gets interesting. The second developer was proposing a sleek, modern building made of metal panels and glass, but in this case, the staff report didn’t require brick, and the commission didn’t bring it up either.
The first developer argued against the brick requirement, pointing out that the design guidelines didn’t specifically call for it. But despite some back and forth, he couldn’t shake the requirement and eventually agreed to it just to keep things moving forward. The commission even assigned two staff members to work out the brick details.
Meanwhile, the second developer’s project sailed through with no fuss—and no extra costs for brick. But how could two similar projects just a block apart receive such different treatment?
The Theory
Back in 1980, Michael Lipsky wrote a book called Street-Level Bureaucracy. In it, he talked about how frontline public service workers—like police officers, teachers, and social workers—exercise a lot of discretion in their jobs, which means their actions shape public policy. He argued that this discretion comes from the gap between policy creation and its on-the-ground implementation.
Lipsky’s point is that discretion can lead to uneven service and unequal treatment. He wrote, “The ability of street-level bureaucrats to exercise discretion comes from the ambiguity of their work, the complexity of individual cases, and the inability of organizational rules and policies to cover all situations.” But this discretion isn’t limited to street-level workers; it applies to all bureaucrats.
What Really Happened
Lipsky’s theory sheds some light on what happened at that city planning commission meeting. The two projects were handled by different staff planners, each with their own take on how new buildings should reflect the nearby historic district. One planner thought new buildings to blend in with the old, while the other thought modern buildings should look, well, modern.
These differing viewpoints are at the heart of many debates about historic preservation. For example, the U.S. Department of Interior’s guidelines for historic tax credits actually require that new additions or alterations stand out from the original historic buildings, rather than blend in.
So, two planners, two different recommendations—and two very different outcomes from the same meeting. In the weeks that followed, the two staff members tasked with figuring out the brick requirement couldn’t even agree on the details, forcing the developer to revise the design multiple times.
“Notable talents are not necessarily connected with discretion.”
- Junius
The Lesson
Developers – and other members of the public – are simple people: they want to know the rules, they want the rules to be clear, and they don’t want the rules to change too often. As one developer I know likes to say: “If you want me to paint the house purple, just tell me, and I’ll paint it purple. But don’t call me next Tuesday and tell me that now you want me to paint it green.” Policies can’t cover every unique situation, which is why bureaucrats will always have discretion in their jobs. But with that discretion comes a challenge: making sure it’s used fairly, and not just to promote personal agendas. And in the end, sometimes it’s just about luck — who you get, both the staff and the politicians.