By 1998, the Bay Area economy was heating up.
Hercules time had come. More that twenty development proposals, most for the vacant
central Hercules parcels, were on the table. The Planning Commission was feeling
overwhelmed by an avalanche of large projects. Applications had to be processed, but there
was no overall framework to assess the quality of proposals, or even to understand their
cumulative impact. In the rush, there seemed to be no regard for the principles of good
urban design that had informed the 1972 Hercules city plan.
What, then, was meant by "good urban design?" The Planning
Commission took time in its regular meetings to hear speakers on the topic. Commissioners
sought out workshops and presentations, and read books on current trends in urban design.
The leading thinkers on the national scene had agreed on a set of principles calling for
"The New Urbanism."
These principles, at the level of the neighborhood and town, seemed to
speak directly to the challenges facing Hercules. The images were compelling: walkable
streets, real civic spaces, buildings with doors and windows facing the street,
automobiles served but kept in their place, vibrant retail streets bustling all day and
all week, a variety of commercial uses, a wide selection of housing options.
Design matters, after all. More development does not necessarily mean less
quality. It is the pattern of development that makes the difference between a good place
and a bad place.
Hercules needed to seize control of the pattern of development. But how?
Land development, and the shaping of cities, is a joint public and private
process. The public sector sets the rules, runs a fair process, and the private sector
takes the financial risks and builds according to approved plans. Since World War II,
development in suburban America has been governed mostly by mere zoning. Urban design is
an afterthought, at best, when conventional zoning is the main tool for regulating
development.
Zoning, by itself, is a crude classification system that strictly
segregates the uses of land. The places to work, the places to shop, and the places to
live are flung apart; people must rely on private automobiles to thread together the
places needed every day, in the various parts of the city. At its heart, this
"conventional suburban" pattern of development does not require any notion of
urban design at all. There really is no intentional, active planning.