Slow-Growth Forces Now Hold City Hall Power

The meetings convened in a conference room in San Diego City Hall during the last two weeks, the participants summoned by Mayor Maureen O’Connor to hammer out a behind-the-scenes compromise over how to control urban growth.

On one side of the negotiating table sat some of the heavyweights in the local development industry: A premier land-use attorney with a stable of impressive clients; the president of goliath Pardee Construction Co.; the lobbyist for the Construction Industry Federation, a trade group that serves as a rich source of political contributions.

On the other side of the table: A Pacific Beach activist, a Mission Hills real estate agent and an architect with offices in Del Mar--leaders of a group calling itself Citizens for Limited Growth.

“I don’t know who those people are, but that doesn’t seem to really matter, does it?” said Kim Kilkenny, the lobbyist. “ . . . These people have power. Very real power.”

Unlikely Choice

Two years ago, “power” would have been an unlikely choice of descriptions for the people who found themselves eyeball to eyeball with representatives of the development industry last week.

Yet they and a handful of other environmentalists and slow-growth advocates have emerged as a political phenomenon, an unstoppable force for change in municipal government--despite the lack of financial resources and social connections that normally accompany movers and shakers at City Hall.

Brought to life with the stunning 1985 victory in Proposition A, the slow-growth ballot measure, leaders of the environmental movement have used the threat of still another citizens’ initiative to outmaneuver the powerful building industry and convince the City Council to limit the number of new homes to be built over the next 18 months.

And Friday, the group won another victory when the City Council voted to adopt restrictions on what can be built on hillsides, canyons, wetlands and flood plains.

Loose-knit Union

The loose-knit union of activists has ties to community groups and environmental organizations, most notably the local chapter of the Sierra Club, which has 11,000 members.

Their personal political views run the gamut from liberal Democrat to evangelical Christian Republican. Their occupations include attorney, homemakers, architect, and a Social Security employee. One current leader was once a developer in the Midwest.

Some of them are veterans of many community-versus-developer skirmishes or have been bird-dogging the actions of the City Council for years; others have just recently begun, bringing to the battle fresh energy and outrage.

Their power, they say, comes from the fact that the majority of San Diegans feel the same way they do about controlling growth.

“The ball is rolling in our direction, and we’re going to play with it for a while and see how far we can take it,” said Jim Kelley-Markham, the architect from Del Mar.

“We have to admit, the pendulum swings, and it is going in the direction we want,” said Kelley-Markham. “You can see the anti-growth sentiment all over California now . . . . The time is right.”

Added Kilkenny from the development industry: “Right now, a sizable portion of the public (in San Diego) wants to slow and stop growth. That gives power to those who by sheer force of luck or happenstance call themselves leaders of that position. . . . My personal opinion is that they will have influence for several years.”

The quest to influence government is fueled by a basic distrust of locally elected officials, said Kathy Giles, a Scripps Ranch housewife and one of the newest members of the slow-growth group.

“It’s anger, frustration,” she said. “I guess each of us has our stories about having watched the council in action in what we consider to be duplicity and evidence of them being in the pocket of the developers.”

Turning Point

It was exactly this kind of feeling that galvanized the slow-growth group in the first place. The turning point was an emotional 5-4 City Council vote in September, 1984, to permit development of La Jolla Valley, a 5,100-acre project that included a Christian university, industrial park and housing.

The vote outraged environmentalists because the La Jolla Valley project was located in the city’s urban reserve--52,000 acres, concentrated mainly in San Diego’s northern tier, that were designated by city policy as off-limits to development until 1995.

Spurred on by fears of Los Angeles-type sprawl, the Sierra Club-based activists began holding meetings to hash out a strategy for repealing the council’s La Jolla Valley vote, as well as drafting a citizens initiative to protect the urban reserve from future development.

They eventually formed a nonprofit group called San Diegans for Managed Growth, and its 20-member steering committee has become the nucleus for the slow-growth movement now muscling city government.

Still Active

Some founding members who are still active include Bob Hartman, a Sierra Club activist who works in a local Social Security office; Emily Durbin, a former chairwoman of the Sierra Club; Kelley-Markham, an unsuccessful City Council candidate and veteran of many community battles in the Mission Hills and Hillcrest area; and Dave Kreitzer, a longtime resident of Rancho Bernardo, where opposition to La Jolla Valley ran high. Kreitzer was chosen to chair the new group because he did not have ties with the Sierra Club, a connection that others felt could be a political liability.

The group also developed two other vital links: Legal and political. Attorney Dwight Worden, a veteran environmentalist who once served as Del Mar city attorney, would be the one to draft the citizens initiative, which became known as Proposition A.

Bob Glaser, who runs the La Jolla Group, a political consulting firm favoring Democrats and environmental issues, would collect signatures for initiative petitions and help conduct the campaign on a paltry budget.

What San Diegans for Managed Growth offered voters was Proposition A, a revolutionary measure requiring a citywide vote for approval for any construction project proposed for the urban reserve.

56% Majority

Despite heavy spending by developers, who outspent the slow-growth advocates many times over, the measure passed with a 56% majority in November, 1985.

The outcome gave the slow-growth coalition instant credibility, said David Lewis, the campaign consultant hired to fight the initiative.

“Pre-Prop. A, everyone knew they were there,” Lewis said. “I don’t think anyone worried about them. They were a fringe group and a pain in the ass . . . But the scenario has changed.”

“Prop. A was sort of the test case whether this amorphous coalition of environmentalists types could put together a ballot measure and deliver,” said Worden, author of other initiatives aimed at limiting growth in Coronado, Riverside, Redlands, Corona, and Del Mar.

“They’ve always known where the public opinion lies,” Worden said about members of the slow-growth movement. “What’s changed is that it is organized and is focused in an effective way.”

Some of the early activists have become woven into the fabric of city government. Sal Giametta, a member of San Diegans for Managed Growth, is now an aide to O’Connor. Lynn Benn, who served on the Torrey Pines community planning group, was recently appointed to the city’s Planning commission.

Meanwhile, political consultant Glaser said the Prop. A campaign helped show slow-growth advocates exactly what they had to do if they needed to put another citizens’ initiative on the ballot.

First off, he said, they know any initiative must be written to address a single issue, rather than a whole range of environmental and growth concerns. They also have learned that it takes initiative campaigns a “bare minimum” of $35,000. The trick, said Glaser, is to find several large donors to supplement the smaller contributions coming in from Sierra Club members and other environmentalists.

In addition, Glaser said, slow-growth advocates should aim to put an initiative on the ballot during odd-numbered years when there isn’t the plethora of federal, state and local candidates to crowd the ballot. That way, said Glaser, the newspapers can dedicate more space to the initiative campaign, which needs plenty of free publicity to counter any heavy spending by developers.

Another Hard Reality

But with that knowledge came another hard reality.

“Prop. A was a very long and difficult effort for a group of volunteers to go through,” said Emily Durbin. “I don’t know anybody who is jumping up and down and anxious to repeat that. I think that many of us view it as the tool of last resort . . . .”

Yet it wasn’t long after Prop. A that slow-growth advocates found themselves reaching for the club of the initiative again. Although voters had expressed their anti-growth sentiment by shutting down the urban reserve from development, council members continued approving dense porojects for the city’s suburban and inner-city neighborhoods.

Of particular concern, said those involved in the Prop. A fight, were the council’s decisions to adjust the boundaries of the urban reserve to allow for construction of a freeway and developement of the 385-acres County Island project in Scripps Ranch without a citywide vote.

Debate Expanded

“It definitely was the recognition that Prop. A wasn’t enough and there was a need to do something more,” said Benn. “We felt that the City Council hadn’t really responded to the growing support, the growing concern for the quality of life and for limiting growth.”

Thus, the debate became what should be done about the stop-and-go traffic, overcrowded schools, inadequate parks and inner-city canyons threatened by development.

Meanwhile, the character of the core group began to change, and it took on some new activists with fresh enthusiasm for an initiative fight.

One of them was Linda Martin, a Pacific Beach woman who moved here from Hawaii in 1983. Born in the Midwest, Martin’s involvement in the slow-growth movement is an ironic twist because she and her first husband became small-time developers by building income property during the early 1960s.

But Martin said her experience living in major American cities caused her concern about the way San Diego was growing out, and not up. She also said her penchant for community organizing drew her into the Proposition A fight, during which she served as a foot soldier by passing out leaflets at shopping centers and circulating petitions.

Other New Faces

Other new faces came forward: Tom Mullaney, a Mission Hills real estate agent who became interested in the slow-growth movement after reading an article by Martin in the Sierra Club newsletter; Giles, a born-again Christian and Scripps Ranch homemaker who got involved because her backyard is adjacent to the proposed County Island project.

“Two years ago, I would have never thought I would be involved with the Sierra Club,” said Giles. “But what I’ve noticed is that growth development in San Diego crosses all party lines.

“You can’t stereotype the people who are concerned about growth,” she said. “You can’t say they’re just a bunch of left-wing tree-loving people. I am a very conservative Republican.”

With the infusion of new blood, the core of advocates once again tapped Worden to help write two initiatives aimed at blunting growth.

The first would have dramatically slowed the city’s general growth rate by imposing a limit on the number of new homes that could be built. The limit would start at 6,000 units the first year, drop to 5,000 the second and level off at 4,000 units from the third year on.

The second would severely restrict development on the city’s wetlands, flood plains and canyons--including all hillsides that can be viewed from any of San Diego’s freeways and major streets, a provision that has the development industry worried.

In May, the activists followed the Proposition A example and formed yet another nonprofit group called Citizens for Limited Growth. The purpose of the reconstituted group, Martin said, is to push the new initiatives, which she said were designed to “break the back” of an economic boom cycle that is drawing outsiders to San Diego to find jobs.

“It draws a lot of carpetbaggers, the pyramid schemes,” said Martin. “It adds to this whole go-go mentality. There’s no commitment to the community, no commitment to the long-term. It is dedicated to the quick turnaround, the quick profit.”

Enjoyed Success

So far, the group has enjoyed success without having to resort to the ballot.

Publicly and privately, O’Connor used the threat of the drafted initiative to convince her colleagues to enact the controversial Interim Development Ordinance, despite strong opposition from developers. The compromise measure, which was approved by a 5-4 council vote and is good for 18 months, limits construction of residential units to 8,000 every 12 months.

And the waiting initiative aimed at preserving hillsides and wetlands was enough to allow Councilman Mike Gotch to push for a similar measure during the IDO debate. On Friday, the council put the finishing touches on the ordinance, which is called the Resource Protection Overlay Zone.

Before Friday’s vote, however, O’Connor invited Martin, Mullaney and Kelley-Markham to three private, closed-door negotiating sessions with the development industry heavyweights. The sessions were held in O’Connor’s conference room and took place over the last two weeks, during which the sides made some progress but were unable to forge a compromise over how much protection should be given to city hillsides, said Mullaney.

Clout Counts

Kilkenny, the developer lobbyist who participated in the private talks, credits the clout of the slow-growth group for the way the City Council hurried to adopt the building limit and environmental protections in recent months.

Land-use attorney Paul Peterson adds: “The perception of politicians is there is a great groundswell of opposition (to growth) and this small but influential and persuasive group of environmentalists have unprecedented success in getting drastic and far-reaching ordinances passed.”

And so it should be, say members of the group.

“We slapped them in the face and made them wake up,” said Glaser.