I was in a meeting today with some smart folks that got me thinking again about "green jobs," specifically Van Jones' message about the intersection of environmentalism and social justice. They're not polished thoughts, but I thought I'd share them and see what folks think.

Ever since Van Jones got essentially lynched by Glenn Beck's teabaggers, I've been wondering why it was so easy to target him, why the green jobs message (which seemed to me at the time uncontroversial) so clearly failed to connect, and why the green jobs conversation in Northern Europe seems to be going so much better.

Racism is a correct, but too easy, answer. There's plenty of racism in Europe, too, and not all the people who got riled up to take down Van Jones were racists. There's something more afoot here, I suspect. I think it has to do as well with the form of social justice green jobs came to connote.

Part of what appealed to me about Jones' pitch was explicitly the idea that one set of solutions I really care about -- clean energy and green technologies -- might be an answer as well to a different set of problems I also care about, economic injustice and racism in America. Save the planet, give justice to the poor: that's a slam dunk argument to someone like me. I suspect many other progressives felt exactly the same way.

But I don't think that's how it played to other people. To other people -- especially working class people in industries whose economic woes have been pinned (mostly dishonestly) on environmentalists -- "green jobs" may not have read "planet/justice" but rather "elitists/welfare." I suspect that for some, green jobs sound like programs for liberal elitists to take money from hardworking people and give it to lazy poor people. For racists, "lazy poor" is also code speak for black, of course, but you don't have to be racist to be a pissed off working person in the U.S.

What's different in Northern Europe? Well, in many countries the whole cultural context is different, since the welfare state is so well established that many regular people hear "us" not "them" when social programs are mentioned. But there's something else that's very different.

Most of the time when I've heard the environment and employment being discussed in Europe, it's in the context of economic development, industrial strategy, progress. I've heard leaders talking about country X moving forward to be a front-runner in wind power, or smart grid technology, or green building expertise and how that will drive prosperity, business growth and new jobs. The emphasis is put on how bright green industries will benefit the entire nation or region or even Europe as whole, rather than a specific social class.

Environmentalists in the U.S. use "green jobs" to mean that, too, but I don't think that meaning's stuck. In fact, that usage may have actually helped undermine some of the message of prosperity-through-sustainability that we've tried to put forward, attaching instead the idea of social redistribution. I suspect that for much of America, the idea "wind power will generate green jobs" now carries some negative connotations.

It may be that what we need is a completely different message. Jobs are no doubt a part of that message, but I suspect emphasizing skilled work, the trades, American productivity and putting it in a context of rapid technological shifts and international competition is probably more the way to go. Some people are already doing some good work there.

But we may need to go farther. We have a strong argument to make that dirty energy and out-dated industries aren't just planet-killers, they're millstones around the neck of the American economy, dragging it under. I think acknowledging the conflict between old gray industrial America, and new bright green post-industrial America and being clear which is better for more people is a winning strategy. If we move forward quickly into a bright green future, most people will benefit from the prosperity we'll create (and we'll save the planet). It's not jobs vs. the environment, it's dying jobs vs. thriving jobs. That's an argument we can win in middle America.

I'd really, really like to think that the call for social justice that made "green jobs" so attractive to a lot of us can still be a central part of the story we're trying to tell, but here's the thing: I'm not sure that's true, and I feel pretty strongly in my gut that if we are going to be successful at weaving social justice into the strategy, it'll unfortunately be by staying clear of the phrase "green jobs" altogether.

And that bums me out, to be honest. I want the things I fight for to address the wrongs in this country, and the world. I'd rather not be put in a position of having to advocate indirectly for righting those wrongs. But the only direct articulation of the connection we have may be doing more harm than good now.

I may be totally wrong, and I may not be explaining myself very well (though it's the very end of the day Friday, so this will have to do), but this is how it seems to me. We absolutely should lay claim to being the party of the future, but we may need to find new ways to put forward our social justice goals.

How do you see it? How would you explain the possibilities of sustainable prosperity? How do you see social justice fitting into those possibilities? Can "green jobs" be rehabilitated?

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(Posted by Alex Steffen in Bright Green Economy at 6:12 PM)

Responding to disasters requires doing a lot with a little as quickly as possible. After my post on the use of solar power as part of the Haitian recovery, a few readers pointed me to aid efforts that are using permaculture techniques to meet pressing demands for clean water, food and shelter. There is even talk of creating a permaculture relief corp: the "PermaCorps."

Permaculture's motto is that nothing goes to waste -- which is perfect for situations where there is never enough to go around in the first place. Its community based work is also an inspiring contrast to the shock doctrine approach to emergency aid.


Modern permaculture goes beyond its agricultural roots to include everything from waste, water, and energy systems to building techniques. By looking at all of these as interlocking parts of one larger system, permaculture can use what would normally be considered "waste" from one system as input for another. Composted sewage becomes fertilizer; buildings and landscaping provide both shelter and catch and purify drinking water.

Disaster Response
Geoff Lawton is the managing director of Australia's Permaculture Research Institute (PRI), one of the world's leading permaculture organizations. In an interview with ABC radio, he described how permaculture relief differs from traditional emergency aid in meeting both immediate and longterm needs:

"Present problems can be future solutions. ... If possible, and it is usually possible, the systems that you put in are an asset to the people. That asset is in leaving living systems on the ground. You go from sanitary considerations, to systems that then go on to increase soil fertility and lead to better nutrition and more vitality to get [the population] out of this disaster and move forward."

Permaculture techniques have been used in some of the world's worst disaster zones. The PRI, in collaboration with the UN High Commission on Refugees, has worked in Macedonia after the Kosovo crisis, Guatemala following the civil war, in Northern Iraq, Sudan, and Indonesia after the Boxing Day tsunami of 2004. They do everything from large scale planning to community built and maintained gardening systems that allow people to begin providing for themselves again.

Permaculture projects, like blackwater systems and instant gardens, are designed and built with the communities that will use them and keep them running. That hands-on approach contributes to the success and durability of the projects, but it also has psychological benefits that can't be overestimated. Amidst devastation, it provides people with an opportunity to be actively engaged with something positive and meaningful.

PermaCorps, Haiti
A variety of organizations including PRI USA were already active in Haiti prior to the quake, and have since turned their attention away from the country's deforestation and soil fertility problems to help deal with the impact of the earthquake.

Within days of the quake, work had begun outside Haiti to assemble a larger group of volunteers. Some of these are expatriates from Miami's Haitian community, where permaculturist Cory Brennan was working the weekend of the quake. Others are being drawn in from the broader international network of permaculture practitioners. But, understandibly, much of this is seems to be happening in a relatively adhoc way.

Evan Schoepke, a permaculturist, blogger and student based in Washington state, was one of the first to call for a more organized permaculture relief corps, or PermaCorps. The vision is of something that would begin in Haiti but maintain a continued presence for future disaster work. He is currently assembling two small teams who will be leaving to joining other permaculturists in Haiti in the coming weeks:

"This is a project that really couldn't have happened until right now. No permaculture organization exists that is specifically set up to respond to these kinds of events and help with relief, recovery and redevelopment."

Disaster Leapfrogging
In the short term, permaculture techniques meet the crucial needs of daily life: compost toilets reduce the risk of sewage born disease, rocket cook-stoves and gardens provide food, engineered catchments and filtration systems provide drinking water. But recovery from disasters is a longterm processes. The real promise of permaculture is in providing systems that can sustain themselves beyond the redevelopment period. Like renewable energy, they are approaches that can help rebuild Haiti on firmer footings.

Permaculture's community driven approach is also an alternative to the much criticized top down and economically driven "disaster capitalism" approach to aid and reconstruction. (See Naomi Klein's arguments at the end of last month.) In amongst everything else, these projects may be a real opportunity for some "disaster leapfrogging."
---

To Get Involved or Donate See:
www.oreworld.org
permaculturehaiti.org
www.permacultureguild.us
oursoil.org

This piece originally appeared on Alex Aylett's blog, OpenAlex

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(Posted by Alex Aylett in Refugees and Relief at 11:56 AM)

I've been thinking about how weird the future is getting.

One of the most creatively interesting aspects of zero impact as a goal is the way in which it transforms our understanding of many of the "solutions" now on the table. When we see our goal as eliminating our ecological impact -- or at least eliminating any impact beyond a globally equitable share of the total impact the planet can absorb (for climate, that appears to work out to about one metric ton of CO2 per person per year, for instance) -- and we're committed to achieving that in a set time frame (like, now, or 20 years, or 40 years), we have to judge the steps we take in a new light.

Some solutions that sound great fail to be able to deliver sufficient change quickly enough to be very important. Others deliver change -- perhaps even lots of change -- but are dead-end paths: beyond a certain point, they can deliver no more benefit, and they also don't make the next solution set any easier. Still others may offer some level of benefit but actually impede progress beyond that level, to the point of being harmful distractions. It's not at all clear that every little bit helps: some solutions can get in the way.

A few thought-experiment examples, in the context of climate change:

1) Local food. Given that a fairly small percentage of the actual carbon footprint of food comes from transportation, emphasizing local food is not a very important solution, in terms of lowering our climate impacts. Indeed, in some cases, less efficient local production means that local food actually can come with a higher carbon footprint than imported food. There are other excellent reasons for buying local (like protecting your foodshed), but a world of people eating local food would still be melting the ice caps.

2) Electric cars. Electric cars are clearly better than gas-burners, no matter what kind of gas they burn. Electric cars are inherently more efficient, getting as much as four times more mobility out of the same amount of energy. If that energy is wind, solar or hydro, their driving emissions are very, very low (not zero, because clean energy is not completely zero-impact itself). The hitch is that the problem with cars isn't just what's under the hood: it's everything, from manufacturing, maintenance and disposal, to the entire system of infrastructure they demand and the social/environmental effects of auto-dependence on our towns and cities. By some rough reckonings, even cars that are produce no emissions still have about 2/3 the total systemic lifecycle impacts of internal combustion vehicles.

Cutting one third of our auto-related emissions is still a big win, but it's a long way from zero. And it's not at all clear that driving electric cars helps us make the larger transitions (towards walkable transit-oriented development, for instance), that zero-impact cities clearly demand. Electric cars may (or may not) be a critical stop-gap technology, but that doesn't make them a transformative one.

3) Clean coal. Coal plant carbon capture and storage/sequestration (CCS) may or may not reduce CO2 emissions from coal plants (it's still an unproven technology). But even if it does, it will only reduce, not eliminate, the impacts of coal-burning; worse, it gives political cover to dirty coal power today, and helps keep in place massive coal subsidies around the world, making it tougher for clean energy solutions to compete fairly in the marketplace. I'd argue that investments in CCS may reduce emissions somewhat, but actually make getting to zero less likely.

Targeting zero, or any other ambitious-but-necessary goal, forces us into direct, uncomfortable contact with the degree of unsustainability manifest in nearly every system around us. Zero slams us right up against the reality that the Swap won't work.

Neither will any other solution we're familiar with. The conventional human responses -- relocalism (draw in, bunker down, look to survival, plan for community in the aftermath) and nostalgic retreat (embrace a return to some vision of pre-post-industrial society; go back to a time when, we imagine, things were more sustainable, or more, if you're a fundamentalist, more righteous) -- are both completely understandable, but they're forlorn hopes. I've explained why we know this in great detail elsewhere.

The world we need is one we've never yet seen. That's terrifying for many people, but it can also be exhilarating: though it is true that the sort of solutions we need are probably non-intuitive, radically innovative, downright weird, that also means that we have an opportunity to re-examine the broken fundamentals of our current model of prosperity and redesign them. We could well end up, yet, with a future that is far better than our present.

If we do end up with a bright green future, it will not look like today's world, but with light rail, gardens and solar panels slapped on top (it may include all those things, but those things are nowhere near enough by themselves). It's already emerging as very different than the Futurama fantasy of cars full of happy consumerist nuclear families driving through gleaming modernist landscapes; Futurama plus green roofs will not do. The new urban landscape we're building will by necessity need to be structurally different than suburban modernism, but the biggest changes may be not in the physical systems, but in the cultures and economies that birth them. The weirdest thing about a bright green future may even be how different we ourselves are, once we get there.

Indeed, I've often paraphrased Bucky Fuller that we shouldn't aim for beautiful solutions, but if our solutions aren't beautiful once we've found them, they're probably not fully developed. Now I think as well that if our solutions aren't really weird, they're probably not ambitious enough.

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(Posted by Alex Steffen in Sustainable Design at 10:49 AM)

Just by clicking a button, you can help us win a $5,000 grant from Brighter Planet.

Worldchanging's project proposal, Advocate for Climate Neutral Cities, has just been accepted for Brighter Planet's Project Fund, which provides seed money for people and projects working to help others fight or adapt to climate change. Our idea to create a climate neutral cities mini-magazine is one of nine projects up for the grant money.

Brighter Planet members decide—as a community—which projects to fund. The project with the most votes at the close of a voting period receives the grant. Join today to cast your vote for Advocate for Climate Neutral Cities.

PLEASE HELP US BY TAKING ONE MINUTE TO VOTE

STEP 1: Click here to create an account
STEP 2: Confirm your account
STEP 3: Vote for ADVOCATE FOR CLIMATE NEUTRAL CITIES

Each member has three votes. Obviously, we'd love for you to use all three votes on us.

For more information on Brighter Planet's Project Fund, watch this video:

Microgrants for Climate Projects from Brighter Planet on Vimeo.

For more information on our idea, head to our project page. Here you'll also find this week's discussion question: "What is your city or municipality doing to combat climate change?" The conversation will also take place across our Twitter and Facebook accounts. Once the conversation gets going, we'll post the comments as a new feature on the site.

Thanks,

The Worldchanging Team

Image credit: Theresa Thompson, Flickr.

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(Posted by WorldChanging Team in Features at 4:27 PM)

Big, red 'For Sale' signs flapping in the wind are the tumble weeds of the 21 century. Signaling emptiness and recent catastrophe, these markers of market disaster are said to have proliferated because of predatory lending and lax standards. But a new report from the Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC) shows another cause of the rapid foreclosure rate: car dependency.

Looking at data from more than 40,000 mortgages throughout Chicago, San Francisco and Jacksonville, Fla., the researchers behind the Location Efficiency and Mortgage Default report found that the rate of mortgage foreclosure actually decreased in neighborhoods that were more compact, walkable and connected to public transportation (after accounting for important factors like income). According to a recent NRDC release:

"The effect of location efficiency is clear when comparing foreclosure probabilities for two homebuyers with exactly the same profile in terms of credit score, debt-to-income ratio, and loan-to-value ratio in differing neighborhoods. The research shows that the buyer in the more location efficient area will be less likely to default. (For a dollar and cents example, check this blog post.)"

Able to be less reliant on their cars, people living in walkable, connected neighborhoods had the flexibility to save money on transportation -- a household expense that can be more than 17 percent of American homeowners' total costs.

To create stability in the real estate sector, the link between transportation costs and foreclosure rates needs to be addressed, say the experts at the NRDC.

The report strongly focused on 'location efficiency' as a way to create this stability. Location efficiency is a phrase that describes how easy it is to live in your neighborhood without a car. If it's easy for you to walk to work, places of interest, grocery stores or the bus stop, then your house is highly location efficient. NRDC researchers say that understanding this concept will be key to predicting mortgage performance and could be a helpful new tool for addressing the continuing mortgage default problem.

Some people get why compact, walkable cities make sense in an instant; others need some convincing. That's why quality research like this, that backs up big picture thinking on bright green cities, is important. Research like this helps people stand up and say no to proposals for more roads and parking lots, and helps others realize that spending more money to live in the city center equals money well spent. Now to get policy that reflects this and politicians who support it. But that will take political will.

Image credit: respres, Flickr CC

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(Posted by Sarah Kuck in Features at 4:17 PM)

Over on Small-Mart: Ideas and Tools for Building Healthy Local Economies, economist Michael Shuman is talking about a different way to stimulate the U.S. economy: local stock exchanges and micro-equity investments.

In his article, Local Stock Exchanges and National Stimulus, Shuman makes the case for reforming old laws that could open up local businesses to local investors.

Outdated federal securities laws have left Main Street dangerously dependent on Wall Street, and overhauling them may well be a key to economic revitalization. The good news is the local businesses could get a huge investment boost with some modest securities reforms that would cost little or nothing.

It's a thorough piece that does an excellent job of explaining why and how local stock exchanges might work, and why they don't exist today. For more thoughts on how the U.S. can nurture local economies and micro-equity, head to Small-Mart.org.

Hat tip to Alex's Twitter feed (@AlexSteffen) for this great resource

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(Posted by Sarah Kuck in Bright Green Economy at 3:20 PM)

Seattle is in the midst of a fierce debate about the future of its waterfront. It's aging seawall needs to be replaced, a project the Mayor wants to take to the voters in a $241 million ballot measure. An elevated freeway -- the Viaduct -- that currently runs along the waterfront is structurally unsafe, and Seattle's in the middle a long battle about whether and how to replace it, with the Governor currently favoring a deep-bore tunnel for a bypass freeway and others favoring switching to a model based on transit and the existing street grid instead. Several major upcoming projects at the Port of Seattle will remake the waterfront as well. On top of all this, rising seas are going to demand that extensive protective measures be built all along Seattle's shorelines in order to protect low-lying areas from floods during storms and high tides.

So, Seattle's going to be redefining its connection to the ocean, like many other coastal cities (just more so). Done really wrong, vast amounts of money will be wasted on infrastructure and development not resilient enough to handle the stormy century ahead. Even done "right" though, the sea walls and flood defenses we need could end up cutting the people of Seattle off from the sea on whose shores we live, while worsening the already serious ecological plight of Puget Sound.

One frequently proposed answer is building "soft" coastlines and habitat at today's sea level: building rising beaches and planting sea grass and other restoration efforts. This may not be smart, given what we know about sea level rise and its risks: it may neither provide the long-term protections we need or the climate-adaptive restoration that reality demands.

At the same time, we do want to reconnect with the ocean as maritime people, so we don't want a coastal Berlin Wall either. Whether that connection demands recreated salmon habitat we know is doomed to be submerged in short order, well, I don't think so. But we could get more creative. We could use the entire waterfront as a sort of giant window into the marine world, providing observable flows (rainwater running off through green infrastructure, for instance) tools for making visible the invisible (art projects that illuminate data pulled from sensors, like the work Sabrina Raaf does, or a walking trail that follows the life cycle of salmon, or some sort of urban habitat wildlife encounter project (ala Natalie Jeremijenko) and efforts to flow the ecological reality underfoot into the augmented reality that is becoming urban life (imagine that every time an augmented view screen turned towards the sound, it revealed news about the seasonal life beneath the ocean's surface, or that every sewer drain carried a tag about where its overflow dumped into the Bay). Perhaps, even, residents could in some way "play" the waterfront, helping different visions of our shoreline emerge through their actions and attention.

Some will say that we need that shoreline to be habitat, but I think efforts to make cities behave like nature can be misguided. The vast majority of a city's impact happens outside its city limits, and often far more good can be done by changing a city's footprint than trying to change its physical structure. I think a city full of citizens more deeply connected culturally to the waters of their home place is a much bigger win than a few hundred yards of incredibly expensive artificial habitat. Though perhaps you can have both.

The point being that we may be thinking both too literally about ecological connection and too timidly about climate adaption, and any real answer to both may demand that we change as much in our heads as at the water's edge.

(image: creative commons, Beaster)

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(Posted by Alex Steffen in Biodiversity and Ecosystems at 3:15 PM)

A rousing success story that shows how great streets foster great communities

Last year Project for Public Spaces and I published the Great Neighborhood Book, which offers hundreds of ideas from around the world about making community improvements on issues ranging from crime prevention to environmental restoration. Since then almost everyone I meet asks: What's your favorite neighborhood?

I should have an answer ready. But each time the question arises, my mind starts wandering through the great places I've explored through the years. Is it the Plateau neighborhood in Montreal, where I became infatuated with cities years ago as a college student? Maybe Trastevere, the old bohemian quarter of Rome my wife Julie and I visited as newlyweds? Or what about Harter Heights, which I enjoyed strolling through recently on a trip to South Bend, Indiana?

To settle the matter once and for all, I wrote up a list of all the wonderful corners of the urban world I've had the pleasure of visiting. Then, with great deliberation, I began to cross off names until only Jacobsburg remained. It is, in my opinion, is the finest neighborhood in America. To keep the suspense going, I will let you figure out the surprising city where Jacobsburg is located. But here are the things I love about it.

Bustling 19th Street in Jacobsburg-- one of the best streets in one of the best neighborhoods in America.

Jacobsburg grew up slowly in a variety of architectural styles between 1890, when streetcars first reached this wooded spot along the river, and 1920, when the boom in automobile sales opened up distant suburban tracts for development. Buses now ply streets where rails once ran, but the corner business districts that popped up to serve trolley riders are still the heart of the community. Butcher shops and haberdasheries, however, have now given way to ethnic eateries and vintage clothing shops.

One of the traits I most admire about Jacobsburg is a knack for being quaintly old-fashioned and au courant cosmopolitan at the same time. At one of my favorite streetcorners in the world, 19th St. and Holly Avenue, a delicatessen run by an old guy named Rocco and his son Gus looks out across the intersection at a high-fashion coffeeshop with fair trade beans from 14 countries and the best selection of design magazines this side of Tokyo. On the other two corners sit the Mogadishu Star, a Somali restaurant, and Krazy Kat Komics, a used and rare comic book store. Within a few steps you'll come across a Reconstructionist synagogue, the largest fan belt dealer in the state, a Carnegie library, a Caribbean seafood restaurant once written up in Food + Wine magazine and a laundromat made famous in an R&B song.

Years ago, the neighborhood was an Eastern European enclave with a sprinkling of Jamaicans who first came to the area as farm laborers during World War II. Today it is a veritable United Nations, thanks in part to the nearby college whose diverse student body keeps the streets lively all day and most of the night.

What do I like most about Jacobsburg? Well, I could mention plentiful trees shading the sidewalks or the pleasing sequence of three-and four-story buildings with front stoops where people sit out to socialize on warm evenings. Then there's the newly refurbished Riverwood park (which everyone says was designed by Frederick Law Olmsted, but wasn't) with a swan pond, skateboard ramps, a weekend farmers' market, summer band concerts and a café with better pastry than you'll find in Copenhagen.

And how could I ignore the invincible spirit of neighborliness, apparent even to a casual visitor? Current residents explain that the neighborhood set aside its own ethnic tensions in the 1960s and came together to fight a freeway that would have essentially leveled the place. That sense of civic engagement endures to this day. The local business association sponsors an annual Spring Festival with a 30-foot maypole in the playground of St. Stanislaus School. Meanwhile a VFW Post, a commedia dell'Arte theatre troupe, a Baptist congregation, a Mexican motorcycle club and a gay men's chorus are among the dozens of local organizations that collaborate to raise money for the neighborhood food shelf.

But if forced to name one thing that makes this neighborhood so great, I would have to say it's the streets. That sounds prosaic, I know-how can mere asphalt compete with Rocco's famous Ukrainian sausage or the boysenberry-fig Danish at the Parkview Café? Please let me explain.

The streets of Jacobsburg-thanks to far-sighted urban planning at the turn of the 20th century and lots of vigilant neighborhood activism ever since-are places for people more than conduits for cars. From my first visit in the early 1990s, I remember being amazed at how liberating it felt walking the streets in a place where pedestrians take priority over automobiles.

Nineteenth Street, like busy streets all around the country, was widened in the 1970s. But after two kids were killed by speeding cars on successive Saturdays, the neighborhood rose up demanding that the road be scaled back to two lanes. It took twelve years, but City Hall finally agreed and the whole area soon blossomed into a favorite destination for visitors from all over town. They come to browse shops, dine in restaurants, drink beer, tour art galleries, see shows at the clubs, but most of all to simply be part of the crowd strolling up and down the sidewalks.

This popularity means the streets carry a lot of traffic in both cars and buses, but not at the expense of pedestrians. Careful attention has been paid to make walking a pleasurable activity. The sidewalks are wide enough to function almost as town squares, so you'll find sidewalk cafes, whimsical sculpture, flower patches, buskers and plenty of benches to sit down for a conversation.

Parking is scarce but that's not been a deterrent to ever-growing economic vitality. Residents generally walk or bike around the neighborhood, and motorists are willing to park some distance away since the side streets are both safe and interesting, thanks to the heavy foot traffic. A new transit line connecting Jacobsburg to the university and downtown has become the preferred way for many folks to arrive. Bike trails proliferating across the city are also helping lighten the traffic load.

One last thing I want to mention about Jacobsburg is the wealth of great pubs, which live up to an older sense of the word -- meaning "public house" -- rather than the current definition as "a place to drink." Families encompassing three generations can be found in the booths at corner taverns like The White Eagle or Syl & Mary's eating supper right alongside laborers celebrating quitting time and students commemorating the end of another day of classes. The great majority of these pubs share a virtue that English novelist George Orwell described as "quiet enough to talk," in a 1946 essay about his favorite London pub, The Moon Under Water.

But The Moon Under the Water existed only in Orwell's imagination, a composite of the qualities he found in pubs across England. And the same is true of Jacobsburg, a neighborhood that I dreamed up out of wonderful experiences I've had on the streets of many American cities. I named it after urbanist visionary Jane Jacobs. Holly Avenue honors William H. (Holly) Whyte, the far-sighted champion of public spaces whose work inspired Project for Public Spaces. The photo you see is actually Chapel Street in New Haven, Connecticut, which was 95 percent abandoned in the 1980s but sprang back to life after developer Joel Schiavone convinced the city to undo an earlier street widening.

But rather than being uselessly Utopian, I see Jacobsburg as the future that's possible for neighborhoods everywhere as people work to create great streets and public spaces in our communities.

We would love to hear your thoughts on the best real neighborhood. Nominate your favorite neighborhood online at PPS's Great Public Spaces page.

This piece originally appeared on The Project for Public Spaces

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(Posted by Jay Walljasper in Community at 1:57 PM)

In November, shortly before heading off to COP-15, Alex Steffen spoke for two nights at Seattle's Town Hall. Over the course of these two talks, Alex explored why the planetary crisis we now face demands a different vision of sustainable prosperity - a bright green future in which sustainability becomes the means through which we provide increased prosperity, security and quality of life for every person on the planet.

Cities are the fulcrum point we can use to leverage that vision into reality. Alex explained that the powerful forces of urbanization and the global spread of knowledge (forces that some see as symptoms of unsustainability) may in fact be the very tools we need to build highly prosperous, ecologically low-impact lives. If we can develop a model of bright green urban living that makes very low-impact prosperity a reality now in the rich countries, we will create the building-block innovations that will help people in poorer countries replicate our rise to wealth without replicating our disastrous ecological footprints.

Where should we start? Wherever we are. Here in Seattle, our global green reputation makes us especially well-positioned to become a leader in the race towards a new kind of urban life, despite the serious environmental challenges our region faces. The ultimate measure, Alex suggested, of Seattle's commitment to a bright green future would be a target of city-wide carbon neutrality by 2030. Nothing less is good enough.

Along the way, Alex discussed a wide variety of new solutions and approaches which could make a bright green, carbon-neutral city a real possibility, now. From clean technology to the street as platform, smart grids to smart growth, attention philanthropy to parallel collaboration, these talks offer a window into what's next in sustainable cities, urban innovation, business and government.

We've had many, many requests to post the video of those talks, and now (with great thanks to the Bullitt Foundation for their support), here they are. We hope you enjoy them and find them thought-provoking:

Night One: Building a Planet with a Future
Introduction by Seattle City Council President Richard Conlin



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Night Two: Seattle's Bright Green Moment
Introduction by Seattle Mayor-Elect Mike McGinn




Download for iPhone/iPod

Thanks to all our cosponsors and everyone who attended what became two terrific evenings.


Alex Steffen Seattle Talks by Worldchanging is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.
Image credit: Craig Allen, CC

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(Posted by WorldChanging Team in Features at 10:30 AM)

A Worldchanging Interview

Solving the world’s biggest problems will require a superhuman outpouring of energy, passion, creativity, and collaboration. Fortunately, Jane McGonigal has a strategy for unleashing people’s capacity to take on hard challenges: playing games. A celebrated designer, researcher, and future forecaster, McGonigal specializes in alternate reality games that engage massive online audiences in real-world issues ranging from energy shortages to health pandemics.

McGonigal brings to the task both academic credentials (Ph.D. in performance studies from U.C. Berkeley) and veteran gamer instincts (as a kid, she hacked games on the Commodore 64). As director of game research and development for the Institute for the Future in Palo Alto, Calif., she frequently collaborates with global partners on game development. Her new book, Reality is Broken: Why Games Make Us Happy and How They Can Change the World, will be published later this year by Penguin.

I caught up with McGonigal by phone as she was putting the finishing touches on her latest project. EVOKE, which she is developing for the World Bank Institute, promises to deliver “a crash course in changing the world” when it launches in March.

Suzie Boss: For the uninitiated, what are alternate reality games?

Jane McGonigal: When people think of computer or video games, they often think of playing in a virtual world that doesn’t exist in reality. But alternate reality game designers are trying to get people to play in the real world. We want people to bring the same curiosity, wonder, and optimism that you feel when in your favorite video games into your real lives and real problems.

SB: Your games sound pretty different from commercial products like World of Warcraft.

JM: There are two big distinctions. First, alternate reality games are not in a virtual environment. They’re built on top of social networks, so we use ordinary online tools like online video, blogs, wikis, and being part of a network. It’s not about graphics and avatars. Second, it’s real play and not role play. You don’t adopt a fictional personality. You play as yourself.

SB: Do your games actually change how people act in real life?

JM: CryptoZoo is a good example of a game oriented to changing your everyday behavior. I developed it for the American Heart Association with the mission of changing the way people think about physical activity. Right now, many of us think of physical activity as requiring you to carve out an hour and changing into your gym clothes. You think you have to go to a special place to sweat. It feels separate from our everyday lives and not integrated into what we do when we’re hanging out with our friends. CryptoZoo inspires people to say, let’s be active for the next five minutes. We teach people to see real streets, real parks, real physical environments as opportunities for playing the game.

SB: How does it work?

JM: CryptoZoo is about chasing these imaginary, bigfoot-like creatures called cryptids. Each cryptid runs in a distinct way. It has specific style of interacting with the environment. Summit monkeys, for instance, swing around any poles they see and run up and down steps. Slaminas run backwards, without stepping on any cracks. (The website includes field reports that describe creatures’ behaviors, along with videos created by players.) So if you’re walking down the street and notice telephone poles and a staircase at city hall, you might say, “Let’s chase the summit monkeys through this block.”

SB: Has CryptoZoo gotten people moving?

JM: That’s the cool thing. Gamer-type people do not necessarily see themselves as athletic. So when we’ve organized CryptoZoo events—such as a late-night cryptid chase through Manhattan at the Come Out and Play Festival—we gather data. At the start, only one in eight people considered themselves athletic. But just from playing the game, they ran more than a mile. They were sweating. Their heart rates were up. These were the same people who had said earlier, “I hate running. That’s not what I do.” But then they did it. It was transformative. The experience changes the way people see themselves. Games are really good at showing us that we’re capable of more than we thought.

SB: Is there more going on here than old-fashioned play?

JM: A lot of people are interested in play. I’m more interested in game play. And here’s the difference: Play is exploratory, open-ended, improvisational. It’s very free. All animals play. Game play is different. It’s outcome-oriented, goal-oriented, and structured. Humans are the only species we know of that comes together to structure an experience where we all understand the rules and work toward the same goal. In fact, cognitive scientists now define the ability to play a game as the distinguishing cognitive trait of the human brain.

People have been playing games as long as we’ve had civilization. As I explain in my book, the earliest dice games were played during times of famine. Whole societies would come together and play these games as a way to diminish their suffering and create social resilience. I interpret that history to mean that games are a way to get massively many people to rally around a common goal.

SB: And that brings us to EVOKE, your new massively multiplayer change-the-world game. Give us a preview.

JM: EVOKE is about rallying as many people as possible around social innovation goals. The goal is to build up our global capacity to change the world in as short a time as possible, for as many people as possible. I call it a crash course in changing the world.

Every week for 10 weeks (starting March 3), there’s going to be a new episode about social innovators working out of Africa. They travel around the world solving epic crises, like food shortages or power outages in major cities. (Game narrative is a graphic novel written by Kiyash Monsef, McGonigal’s husband, with illustrations by Jacob Glaser.

Players take on three missions each week. They learn—basically, filling their brain with information about the topic. They act—doing something in real life to implement what they’ve learned. And they imagine. What could they do about this problem today if they had a team, money, and resources? That’s what social innovation is all about—scaling up local solutions to make big, sustainable solutions that can spread.

The first week, the episode is about a scenario 10 years from today when there’s a major famine in Tokyo. Players learn about the issue of food security. They do something in real life to increase the food security of at least one person they know. And then they imagine a bigger solution.

Meanwhile, real experts (from the field of social innovation, World Bank Institute, and other domains) are watching, mentoring, and giving feedback. At the end of the game, we’ll set up year-long mentorship for people who have ideas. They’ll get support to develop their ventures. We want the game to be a springboard to real action.

SB: Who do you hope will play?

JM: Young people in Africa are our ideal audience. We’re working with universities throughout Africa to get the game into classrooms. Then there’s a wider audience of people anywhere in the world, but especially in areas of high poverty where there’s an urgent need for social innovation. I’m imagining mostly young adults—under 35 (although there’s no age limit).

Finally, there’s a third level. And that’s anybody who knows anything and is willing to funnel that knowledge toward people who can do a lot of good with it. They can participate as a mentor or ally. By coming once a week and spending 15 minutes, they can offer players attention, positive feedback, and ideas. The idea is to create a critical mass of engagement and attention so we have a big swarm of people who come and do something together.

SB: What sort of numbers are you hoping for?

JM: If we could get 50 students in Africa to work their way through the entire game, and get to the point where they have a social enterprise ready to pitch, that’s a huge win. That would be fantastic. Then, I always set a lucky number for people who feel that their life is transformed by the game. They’ll spend enough time participating so that the rest of the work they do afterward is influenced by their new powers, new capabilities, and new allies. My magic number is 1,100. Beyond that, I’d love to see 10,000 people signed up and participating.

SB: I notice you sometimes use superhero lingo when you talk about games (i.e., developing “new powers”). Is that deliberate?

JM: Anytime you work really hard at something you care about, you do develop strengths and abilities. That’s how we humans learn. With games, the level of emotional engagement is so intense. With the bigger games I’ve designed, people play them like a full-time job, sometimes for 40 hours a week. When you put that much time in—and you do it because you love it—you’re going beyond normal learning or normal skill acquisition into the world of superpowers. It’s heroic effort, and you wind up with all these great attributes and assets.

SB: Where did your own passion for gaming come from?

JM: I was a computer geek growing up, hacking my own games on the Commodore 64. But I never thought of gaming as a viable career path. Then when the first-person-shooter genre came out, I fell out of gaming for a while. My brain doesn’t enjoy that. Meanwhile, toward the end of college, I worked in parks and recreation in New York. We put on big game festivals at parks and schools, and I saw the power of games to bring people together and create community. Those were athletic, playground-type games. Once that became possible to do with technology—with all the narrative and interaction of computer games—that was an exciting moment.

SB: Recently, you blogged about how you created a game to help you recover from a concussion. What happened?

JM: I had a fluke accident last summer and slammed my head into a cabinet door. I was in the middle of working on my book and suddenly, I was in this fog. If I tried to read or write, my brain would basically shut down. This dragged on for weeks. There was no purpose in my days. Everything just stopped. It was bleak. So I started making up a game. The idea was, I’d become this Buffy-the-vampire-slayer-type hero and slay my concussion. I came up with missions and allies so I could get my friends and family to help me. It was a cry for help, and it started to work.

I might eventually take it further.

SB: Finally, you’ve said you’d like to see the Nobel Peace Prize go to a game designer someday. Why?

JM: Games wield enormous power in our culture. They’re controlling the attention and getting the most energy and passion out of many, many people.

The commercial gaming industry is our innovation lab. By making games purely for entertainment, we learn more about how to make people happy and how to develop these superpowers.

But if you don’t do something real with these powers, it’s a waste. If we’re not developing games that use all that insight and all that powerful technology for good, it’s a big, tragic waste. So, my benchmark for the games I want to help create is that they should only be games that serve a humanitarian purpose, that give people a chance to tackle urgent problems like poverty, that lead to world peace. These are big human goals that I think games are capable of tackling.

Images courtesy of Avant Game

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(Posted by Suzie Boss in Features at 10:04 AM)

A Worldchanging Interview

Solving the world’s biggest problems will require a superhuman outpouring of energy, passion, creativity, and collaboration. Fortunately, Jane McGonigal has a strategy for unleashing people’s capacity to take on hard challenges: playing games. A celebrated designer, researcher, and future forecaster, McGonigal specializes in alternate reality games that engage massive online audiences in real-world issues ranging from energy shortages to health pandemics.

McGonigal brings to the task both academic credentials (Ph.D. in performance studies from U.C. Berkeley) and veteran gamer instincts (as a kid, she hacked games on the Commodore 64). As director of game research and development for the Institute for the Future in Palo Alto, Calif., she frequently collaborates with global partners on game development. Her new book, Reality is Broken: Why Games Make Us Happy and How They Can Change the World, will be published later this year by Penguin.

I caught up with McGonigal by phone as she was putting the finishing touches on her latest project. EVOKE, which she is developing for the World Bank Institute, promises to deliver “a crash course in changing the world” when it launches in March.

Suzie Boss: For the uninitiated, what are alternate reality games?

Jane McGonigal: When people think of computer or video games, they often think of playing in a virtual world that doesn’t exist in reality. But alternate reality game designers are trying to get people to play in the real world. We want people to bring the same curiosity, wonder, and optimism that you feel when in your favorite video games into your real lives and real problems.

SB: Your games sound pretty different from commercial products like World of Warcraft.

JM: There are two big distinctions. First, alternate reality games are not in a virtual environment. They’re built on top of social networks, so we use ordinary online tools like online video, blogs, wikis, and being part of a network. It’s not about graphics and avatars. Second, it’s real play and not role play. You don’t adopt a fictional personality. You play as yourself.

SB: Do your games actually change how people act in real life?

JM: CryptoZoo is a good example of a game oriented to changing your everyday behavior. I developed it for the American Heart Association with the mission of changing the way people think about physical activity. Right now, many of us think of physical activity as requiring you to carve out an hour and changing into your gym clothes. You think you have to go to a special place to sweat. It feels separate from our everyday lives and not integrated into what we do when we’re hanging out with our friends. CryptoZoo inspires people to say, let’s be active for the next five minutes. We teach people to see real streets, real parks, real physical environments as opportunities for playing the game.

SB: How does it work?

JM: CryptoZoo is about chasing these imaginary, bigfoot-like creatures called cryptids. Each cryptid runs in a distinct way. It has specific style of interacting with the environment. Summit monkeys, for instance, swing around any poles they see and run up and down steps. Slaminas run backwards, without stepping on any cracks. (The website includes field reports that describe creatures’ behaviors, along with videos created by players.) So if you’re walking down the street and notice telephone poles and a staircase at city hall, you might say, “Let’s chase the summit monkeys through this block.”

SB: Has CryptoZoo gotten people moving?

JM: That’s the cool thing. Gamer-type people do not necessarily see themselves as athletic. So when we’ve organized CryptoZoo events—such as a late-night cryptid chase through Manhattan at the Come Out and Play Festival—we gather data. At the start, only one in eight people considered themselves athletic. But just from playing the game, they ran more than a mile. They were sweating. Their heart rates were up. These were the same people who had said earlier, “I hate running. That’s not what I do.” But then they did it. It was transformative. The experience changes the way people see themselves. Games are really good at showing us that we’re capable of more than we thought.

SB: Is there more going on here than old-fashioned play?

JM: A lot of people are interested in play. I’m more interested in game play. And here’s the difference: Play is exploratory, open-ended, improvisational. It’s very free. All animals play. Game play is different. It’s outcome-oriented, goal-oriented, and structured. Humans are the only species we know of that comes together to structure an experience where we all understand the rules and work toward the same goal. In fact, cognitive scientists now define the ability to play a game as the distinguishing cognitive trait of the human brain.

People have been playing games as long as we’ve had civilization. As I explain in my book, the earliest dice games were played during times of famine. Whole societies would come together and play these games as a way to diminish their suffering and create social resilience. I interpret that history to mean that games are a way to get massively many people to rally around a common goal.

SB: And that brings us to EVOKE, your new massively multiplayer change-the-world game. Give us a preview.

JM: EVOKE is about rallying as many people as possible around social innovation goals. The goal is to build up our global capacity to change the world in as short a time as possible, for as many people as possible. I call it a crash course in changing the world.

Every week for 10 weeks (starting March 3), there’s going to be a new episode about social innovators working out of Africa. They travel around the world solving epic crises, like food shortages or power outages in major cities. (Game narrative is a graphic novel written by Kiyash Monsef, McGonigal’s husband, with illustrations by Jacob Glaser.

Players take on three missions each week. They learn—basically, filling their brain with information about the topic. They act—doing something in real life to implement what they’ve learned. And they imagine. What could they do about this problem today if they had a team, money, and resources? That’s what social innovation is all about—scaling up local solutions to make big, sustainable solutions that can spread.

The first week, the episode is about a scenario 10 years from today when there’s a major famine in Tokyo. Players learn about the issue of food security. They do something in real life to increase the food security of at least one person they know. And then they imagine a bigger solution.

Meanwhile, real experts (from the field of social innovation, World Bank Institute, and other domains) are watching, mentoring, and giving feedback. At the end of the game, we’ll set up year-long mentorship for people who have ideas. They’ll get support to develop their ventures. We want the game to be a springboard to real action.

SB: Who do you hope will play?

JM: Young people in Africa are our ideal audience. We’re working with universities throughout Africa to get the game into classrooms. Then there’s a wider audience of people anywhere in the world, but especially in areas of high poverty where there’s an urgent need for social innovation. I’m imagining mostly young adults—under 35 (although there’s no age limit).

Finally, there’s a third level. And that’s anybody who knows anything and is willing to funnel that knowledge toward people who can do a lot of good with it. They can participate as a mentor or ally. By coming once a week and spending 15 minutes, they can offer players attention, positive feedback, and ideas. The idea is to create a critical mass of engagement and attention so we have a big swarm of people who come and do something together.

SB: What sort of numbers are you hoping for?

JM: If we could get 50 students in Africa to work their way through the entire game, and get to the point where they have a social enterprise ready to pitch, that’s a huge win. That would be fantastic. Then, I always set a lucky number for people who feel that their life is transformed by the game. They’ll spend enough time participating so that the rest of the work they do afterward is influenced by their new powers, new capabilities, and new allies. My magic number is 1,100. Beyond that, I’d love to see 10,000 people signed up and participating.

SB: I notice you sometimes use superhero lingo when you talk about games (i.e., developing “new powers”). Is that deliberate?

JM: Anytime you work really hard at something you care about, you do develop strengths and abilities. That’s how we humans learn. With games, the level of emotional engagement is so intense. With the bigger games I’ve designed, people play them like a full-time job, sometimes for 40 hours a week. When you put that much time in—and you do it because you love it—you’re going beyond normal learning or normal skill acquisition into the world of superpowers. It’s heroic effort, and you wind up with all these great attributes and assets.

SB: Where did your own passion for gaming come from?

JM: I was a computer geek growing up, hacking my own games on the Commodore 64. But I never thought of gaming as a viable career path. Then when the first-person-shooter genre came out, I fell out of gaming for a while. My brain doesn’t enjoy that. Meanwhile, toward the end of college, I worked in parks and recreation in New York. We put on big game festivals at parks and schools, and I saw the power of games to bring people together and create community. Those were athletic, playground-type games. Once that became possible to do with technology—with all the narrative and interaction of computer games—that was an exciting moment.

SB: Recently, you blogged about how you created a game to help you recover from a concussion. What happened?

JM: I had a fluke accident last summer and slammed my head into a cabinet door. I was in the middle of working on my book and suddenly, I was in this fog. If I tried to read or write, my brain would basically shut down. This dragged on for weeks. There was no purpose in my days. Everything just stopped. It was bleak. So I started making up a game. The idea was, I’d become this Buffy-the-vampire-slayer-type hero and slay my concussion. I came up with missions and allies so I could get my friends and family to help me. It was a cry for help, and it started to work.

I might eventually take it further.

SB: Finally, you’ve said you’d like to see the Nobel Peace Prize go to a game designer someday. Why?

JM: Games wield enormous power in our culture. They’re controlling the attention and getting the most energy and passion out of many, many people.

The commercial gaming industry is our innovation lab. By making games purely for entertainment, we learn more about how to make people happy and how to develop these superpowers.

But if you don’t do something real with these powers, it’s a waste. If we’re not developing games that use all that insight and all that powerful technology for good, it’s a big, tragic waste. So, my benchmark for the games I want to help create is that they should only be games that serve a humanitarian purpose, that give people a chance to tackle urgent problems like poverty, that lead to world peace. These are big human goals that I think games are capable of tackling.

Images courtesy of Avant Game

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(Posted by Suzie Boss in Features at 10:04 AM)

Curbing stormwater while trimming the bottom line.

by Lisa Stiffler

For years, environmentalists have touted "low-impact development" -- letting soil and vegetation soak up heavy rains, rather than channeling storm runoff into gutters and sewers -- as the best solution for stormwater. But as it turns out, LID has picked up a whole host of new fans: smart economists, developers, builders, and government regulators are now singing LID's praises as well.

The fundamental principle of low-impact development is that it's better -- both for people's pocketbooks and for streams -- to prevent storm runoff than it is to treat it. That means building green roofs and rain gardens, installing rain barrels and cisterns, and using porous concrete and pavers. The conventional alternative is building an elaborate and expensive system of concrete storm sewers that funnel stormwater, as well as the trash and toxics it picks up, into streams, lakes, and bays.

And recent studies from around North America show that the principle has promise: real-world evidence shows that LID is, in fact, a cheaper way to handle stormwater, and it does so without the flooding risk or the damage to marine life, that the conventional approach to stormwater often carries with it.

Take, for example, this 2005 study by researchers from the University of Southern California and the University of California, Los Angeles. They point to a previous study, which had estimated that it would cost a whopping $284 billion, and require building 65 drinking-water treatment plants, to clean the filthy torrents streaming off of LA's highways and rooftops. But the researchers concluded that LID, coupled with related strategies, could deal with stormwater in the sprawling metropolis at a cost of $3 billion to $7 billion -- treating stormwater at pennies on the dollar, compared with the conventional approach.

Seattle Public Utilities has done some number crunching of its own. The utility found that using LID, or what they call "natural drainage systems," to retrofit streets in need of stormwater treatment that the city spent $325,000 per block, compared to $425,000 if they had built traditional storm-drain-and-pipes infrastructure.

A good chunk of that savings likely came from the fact that the LID street has only one sidewalk (this is in a neighborhood that previously had no sidewalks) rather than two. But the comparison doesn't count the many other benefits of LID, including improved property values (thanks to the improved aesthetics of the natural systems) plus the near elimination of runoff. That means no flooding and less dependence on combined-sewer overflows that can dump raw sewage along with stormwater into the sea and rivers (this talk outlines these additional benefits).

If you're looking for good examples of smart LID projects, this EPA document is a stormwater solutions throw down. It concludes that, in 11 of the 12 projects studied, LID is the economic winner over conventional strategies. The savings ranged from 15 to 80 percent. Let's take a look:

SEA Street Seattle: If you're an LID fan, you already know about SEA Street, or 2nd Avenue Street Edge Alternative. This 2001 literally groundbreaking project was a rebuild of a residential street in which the road was narrowed, some sidewalks removed, and wide ditches called swales built along the pavement to catch runoff. The amount of impervious surfaces were reduced by 18 percent, and the redesign captures nearly all of the runoff according to studies tracking its performance. Plus, it's really pretty with native plants and trees lining the street. It's been replicated in neighborhoods around the city.

PROJECT COSTS

* For a conventional retrofit: $868,803
* LID retrofit: $651,548
* Difference: $217,255 in savings

Parking lot retrofits, Bellingham: The city opted for rain gardens instead of underground vaults to capture and treat runoff from parking lots at city hall and Bloedel Donovan Park. Three of the city hall's 60 parking spaces were converted into the rain garden. At the park, a 550 square-foot area was converted.

Rain gardens typically look like traditional landscaping, but can include planted depressions that are lined with layers of gravel and porous soil. Sometimes the depression can contain a drain that leads into traditional stormwater infrastructure to accommodate unusually heavy rains.

PROJECT COSTS

* For vaults: $80,400
* For rain gardens: $18,400
* Difference: $62,400 in savings

Crown Street, Vancouver, BC: This 2005 retrofit of a Vancouver street was based on the SEA Street model. The project is expected to reduce runoff by 90 percent. The city opted for the LID design because the street reportedly drains into the last two salmon-bearing streams in Vancouver.

PROJECT COSTS

* For a conventional retrofit: $364,000
* LID retrofit: $707,000 (this includes $311,000 in consulting fees that would not be required for additional projects, making the cost $396,000)
* Difference: $32,000, discounting consulting fees; however, according to the EPA report, the city estimates that the LID approach would be less expensive than a traditional stormwater system in areas of new development

Downspout disconnection program, Portland: Combined Sewer Overflows (CSOs) are a scourge of urban sewer-stormwater systems. In these systems, stormwater and sewage are mixed and treated in sewage facilities. In heavy storms, the treatment plants are overwhelmed by the extra runoff, and the combined waste gets dumped untreated into rivers and bays. And they're really expensive to fix by separating the systems or increasing capacity.

So Portland is opting for a program that pays homeowners $53 for each downspout it disconnects from the stormwater system. Instead, the water flows into rain barrels or the home's yard. More than 50,000 downspouts have been disconnected, channeling more than 1.2 billion gallons of water out of the CSO system.

PROJECT COSTS (based on numbers provided for the EPA's December 2007 study by which time there had been 44,000 downspouts disconnected)

* For added capacity to CSO: $250 million
* For disconnection program: $8.5 million

If you want some more examples, the Puget Sound Action Team (now the Partnership for Puget Sound) published "Natural Approaches to Stormwater Management" a few years back. It's a great document providing dozens of case studies showing LID in action from around BC and Washington.

I could go on, but you get the idea. LID is smart for the pocketbook, and the only answer for the built environment.

Green roof photo from Rob Harrison under the Creative Commons license.

This piece originally appeared on The Sightline Institute's blog, The Daily Score

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(Posted by WorldChanging Team in Green Building at 3:52 PM)