In real life, it’s not enough to just say no

PACKET EDITORIAL, April 8

By: Packet Editorial
   "Build it," the mysterious stranger promised the wide-eyed Iowa farmer, "and they will come."
   So the farmer dutifully mowed down his cornfield, put up a shiny new stadium and, sure enough, all the great ballplayers of days gone by came to play in his "Field of Dreams."
   Imagine if that mysterious stranger had bypassed Iowa and come instead to New Jersey — with a plan that would exacerbate stormwater runoff by increasing impervious surface, produce unacceptably high levels of light and sound pollution, remove precious farmland from preservation, exceed existing floor-area ratios, worsen traffic congestion and promote suburban sprawl. That farmer would still be waiting for a hearing on his first permit application.
   This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, mind you. Bureaucratic rules and regulations exist for a reason. Used wisely, they can achieve goals like curbing pollution, preserving farmland, relieving traffic congestion and controlling unwanted growth and development.
   Used arbitrarily, however, or manipulated to prevent something that some vocal and well-organized group of activists doesn’t like, they can sometimes bring about unintended — and disastrous — consequences.
   Back in the early 1970s, a vocal and well-organized group of activists banded together to oppose a plan to build the Tocks Island Dam on the upper Delaware River. A primary objective of the plan, proposed by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, was to reduce the threat of downstream flooding. But activists contended its real purpose was to allow unbridled growth and development to take place within the Delaware River Basin.
   "Build it," the activists warned federal and state officials, "and they will come."
   So the Army Corps didn’t build it.
   And they came anyway.
   Up and down the Delaware River Basin, from the rolling Sussex and Warren hills to the marshy Salem and Cumberland lowlands, they came. Into the sprouting subdivisions of Hunterdon and Mercer and Burlington and Camden and Gloucester, they came. All along the tributaries in Morris and Somerset and Middlesex, they came.
   And when the Delaware River crested this past weekend above the so-called "100-year" flood stage — for the second time in seven months — the devastating consequences weren’t limited to the homes and businesses along the banks of the river. All across the Delaware River Basin, basements were flooded, appliances destroyed, roads closed, cars stuck in the mud.
   The capacity of this region to withstand the "100-year" flood has been so diminished by development over the years that we now measure the time between catastrophes in months rather than centuries. Which raises the obvious question: What would have happened if the Tocks Island Dam had been built?
   We don’t know the answer. But we do know that preventing it from being built didn’t stop growth and development in the region — which, in turn, resulted in a far wider swath of destruction being left in the wake of the Delaware’s raging floodwaters. We know, too, that failing to complete the missing link of I-95 through central New Jersey — another manifestation of the "don’t-build-it-and-they-won’t-come" mentality — hasn’t prevented sprawl, nor has it caused motorists to avoid the region. What it has done is clog all the other roadways in this still-growing area with an overwhelming amount of traffic.
   Many strategies exist for turning runaway development into smart growth. Better state, regional and local planning. Updated land-use laws. Tighter zoning regulations. Property-tax reform. But, as painful experience has proven, living in the obverse of a "Field of Dreams" world — thinking, wishfully, that if you don’t build it, they won’t come — is a surefire way to make some of your worst nightmares come true.