"When a house is demolished, more than the home is lost": On North America's demolition derby

Smashed up. Image: Getty.

In 2013 alone, more than 500 houses were demolished in Nashville, Tennessee, a sharp increase from previous years. And hundreds of additional teardowns are expected in a city that’s projected to add a million residents over the next two decades.

Nashville is hardly the only North American city to experience a recent wave of teardowns. In Vancouver, a housing and real estate expert reports that the city issued more than 1,000 demolition permits in 2013. She points out that most of the demolitions are of single-family homes, and each sends “more than 50 tonnes of waste to landfills”.

While preservationists have long decried the loss of historic fabric and cultural capital through teardowns, the environmental costs of demolition are increasingly coming to the fore.

The negative environmental consequences of teardowns are manifest. According to the Chicago Metropolitan Agency for Planning (CMAP), demolition and construction now account for 25 per cent of the solid waste that ends up in US landfills each year. Further, when a building comes down and its materials are hauled off to the dump, all the energy embedded in them is also lost. This consists of all that was expended in the original production and transportation of the materials, as well as the manpower used to assemble the building.

As CMAP explains, “Examining embodied energy helps to get at the true costs of teardowns and links it to issues of air pollution and climate change (from the transport of materials and labor), natural resource depletion (forests, metals, gravel) and the environmental consequences of extracting materials.”

Often, a more environmentally friendly, quaint home is “replaced by a very expensive, much larger house, which is frequently left vacant”. Meanwhile, in the most desirable cities, in their tony suburbs, and in popular resorts, investors park their assets in “McMansions” that are sporadically occupied.

Additionally, bigger houses necessarily encroach upon open space. Not only does expansion entail the uprooting of mature plantings – which benefit air quality – but it also eliminates trees that can provide shade and minimize energy required to cool buildings in warmer months.

In the wake of the US housing crisis, many McMansions remain unoccupied. Image: Michael McCullough/flickr, CC BY-NC.

Urban facelifts erase more than crumbling buildings

In city neighborhoods, opponents of demolition will often cite the loss of historic character.

Advocates for development, on the other hand, frequently argue that demolition rids cities of decrepit, obsolete houses, paving the way for multi-unit developments. In this sense, cities can become more efficient with their limited space, avoiding suburban sprawl while alleviating the long, traffic-snarled commutes of those who travel to the city.

In many cities, however, new construction on the sites of torn-down houses is aimed at attracting relatively affluent young or middle-aged professionals – the demographic that appreciates urban amenities like shops, restaurants and museums.

Time was that a “walking world” – that is, an environment in which services and amenities are available within walking distance of one’s home – was possible for all city-dwellers, regardless of class. Today, in many urban areas, housing in the dense central core is the purview of the rich, and the less affluent are pushed to the outskirts.

As a result, formerly diverse neighborhoods become economically monolithic. Longtime residents scatter as home values – and taxes – are driven up by new construction.


Teardowns also have negative cultural implications.

All houses tell a story: they’re evidence of how earlier generations thought about domestic life and designed spaces to reflect their daily needs. When we demolish them, we lose those crucial traces of the past.

Of course, older houses often cannot satisfy contemporary demands for amenities, and were frequently built on a smaller scale. Modestly scaled houses from the 19th and early 20th centuries – which represent a wide range of architectural styles – are sometimes built out or renovated. But often developers and homeowners opt to (as a “For Sale” sign in my neighbourhood recently put it) “scrape the lot.”

For whatever reason, high square footage has become a prerequisite for new homes in the United States, where the average size of a house built since 2003 is more than double that in England. The United States Census Bureau reports that between 1973 and 2008 the average square footage of new houses soared from 1,660 to 2,519, only dipping after the Great Recession.

Small houses aren’t alone in falling victim to the wrecking ball. The Los Angeles Times recently reported on the demolition of mansions in desirable LA neighborhoods that had sold for as much as $35m.

Actress Jennifer Aniston has taken a stand against her mega mansion-inhabiting peers, arguing that, “The very idea that a building of 90,000 square feet can be called a home seems at the least a significant distortion of building code.”

Even in less supercharged real estate markets, large and well-built homes fall victim to rising land prices that make them more valuable as dirt.

One example is Georgia’s Glenridge Hall, an historic Tudor Revival mansion, which The Georgia Trust, a statewide historic preservation organization, designated a “place in peril” earlier this year.

Featured in films and providing some of the setting for the first season of The Vampire Diaries, Glenridge Hall had been preserved, until recently, by descendants of the original owner. But the architecture and planning firm Duany Plater-Zyberk & Company – darlings of the New Urbanism movement, which advocates for the revival of traditional town planning and walkable mixed-use developments – demolished the building to make way for a new mixed residential and commercial “English Village”.

Richmond, Virginia’s Agecroft Hall is built in the Tudor style. Image: Phoebe Reid/flickr, CC BY.

As I pointed out in my recent book, the builders of Tudor mansions like Glenridge Hall in the 1920s and 1930s attached a great deal of significance to the historic feel of their homes: in famous Tudors like the Virginia House and Agecroft Hall, they went so far as to import materials from actual English Tudors.

Unfortunately, for today’s wealthy builders and buyers, the past carries little cachet. For many, older homes are considered an obstacle rather than a badge of distinction. And when these radical presentists are given free rein to tear down the remains of the past, we all lose.The Conversation

Kevin D Murphy is Andrew W Mellon chair in the humanities and professor and chair of history of art at Vanderbilt University.

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.

 
 
 
 

The number being helped by Help to Buy is at a record high. That’s not a good thing

Help to Buy, Bristol, 2013. Image: Getty.

James Brokenshire the secretary of state for the Ministry of Housing, Communities and Local Government (MHCLG) has been having a busy week. On Monday, the department published its rough sleeping strategy, while Tuesday saw the release of the long awaited social housing green paper.

Neither has filled commentators or the housing sector with much confidence – not least because they offer no new support for genuinely affordable homes. This is a problem because, well, there aren’t enough and building more will cost money. 

Since 2010, affordable housing funding has taken a significant hit. Financial support for building social rented homes, where rents are linked to local earnings, has been cut in favour of rents set at 80 per cent of market rents. As a result the supply of new homes at social rent has dwindled dramaticallyIPPR research has shown that, across the country, the so-called affordable rents which have replaced them are simply too expensive for many households on low incomes.

This lack of a support stands in marked contrast to government’s approach to homeownership, as figures released today on sales through the Help to Buy show. Help to Buy loans, in which government lends a household 20 per cent of the value of a new build home (40 per cent in London), are at a record high. To date, around 170,000 homes have been sold through the scheme.

But the Help to Buy policy has two key problems. Firstly, far from supporting those who otherwise couldn’t afford to buy, the scheme is instead assisting households who would be able to buy at some point without support; lower income households continue to be priced out. The government’s own analysis shows that many of those buying through the scheme would have been able to buy at some point in the future without the scheme.

At the same time, the data released today shows that more than a third of those who have made use of Help to Buy to date have household incomes of £50,000 or higher. Around 1 in 10 of those who have bought through the scheme have a household income of over £80,000.

Secondly, far from improving affordability, Help to Buy worsens it. Research by the housing charity Shelter has shown that, through boosting demand for scarce housing, Help to Buy has inflated house prices. 


The main beneficiaries of this are the developers who have factored the scheme into house prices and as a result have seen a significant increase in their profits. Take, for example, the excessive bonus paid to the CEO of Persimmon Homes earlier this year of £75m (originally £100m), which stoked such shareholder and public fury: that was linked to a surge in profits driven by the Help to Buy scheme.

Both of these critiques demonstrate that government is currently not putting its balance sheet to best use. To date, Government has leant out £8.9bn through the Help to Buy. In 2017 alone, the money could have been used by councils to build somewhere in the region of 22,000 homes for social rent, over 400 times the amount actually built in 2016-17.

Letting councils borrow to build affordable housing would make significant steps towards delivering the 145,000 affordable homes which are needed each year, tackling poor housing conditions, over-crowding and poverty. At the same time, it would generate a return for councils, which could in turn be used to invest in more affordable homes and improve existing ones.

Yet, our absurd national accounting rules currently prevent this from happening. Help to Buy lending is not counted towards the deficit. This is because, asGeorge Osborne boasted when launching it, the Help to Buy scheme is a financial transaction, and therefore the taxpayer would be “making an investment and getting a return”.

By contrast, under rules imposed by the Conservative Government of 2010-15, councils are subject to a debt cap on what is called the housing revenue account. This prevents them from borrowing prudently against future rental streams to build council homes. This is despite cries from the Local Government Association that councils want to get building in order to tackle the housing crisis.

On a more positive note, the social housing green paper indicates that the government is starting to budge on this. It has already lifted the borrowing cap slightly in areas with pressure on affordability and is using these schemes to test the possibility of going further. 

This is welcome, but as the social green paper shows warm rhetoric on its own is not enough. Government should commit to changing the borrowing rules, lifting the local authority debt cap and phasing out help to buy.

Darren Baxter is a Research Fellow at IPPR he tweets @DarrenBaxter.