The University’s Role in Town-Gown Issues

Yesterday, I posted on housing density in the city, and the push to move sudent housing to the northwestern part of Whitewater.  See, Old Whitewater Dreams of a Student Rez. 

A recap: the plan won’t work because (1) student housing is widespread in the center of the city by voluntary choice that cannot be undone and (2) pointing to the northwest corner of the city without actual, additional housing in that area is an empty solution.   

(That’s the point of a reservation theme: wanting people to live in an area without market forces, or even state forces, to support housing isn’t a practical solution.)

A longtime reader, very sharp, wrote in reply to yesterday’s post, and one of his points was that I had neglected the university’s role in all this.  (He had several very solid points, all appreciated; I wrote yesterday in direct reply to his message.)  

He’s right, of course: I seldom write about the university.  It’s my mistake. 

But what of the university, in all these years of contention over student housing? 

The easiest way, really, to think about the university is as a planned community, where some of the consequences of their planning are confined to campus, but other consequences reach far beyond.  In this regard, university planning has been a decidedly mixed bag.  

There have been unalloyed university successes (new on-campus classrooms, more competitive enrollment, nationally-ranked athletic programs). 

There have also been some equally obvious problems: (grant-chasing for a now-struggling tech park building, failure to provide sufficient housing options, a laughable tendency toward exaggeration of faculty and administration accomplishments, and a descent into crony-capitalist schemes that – in the unlikely event that any of them should ever turn a profit – would benefit primarily a few salaried, white-collar academics. 

The accomplishments of many the university’s athletes – genuine and enduring triumphs – are among the best of recent achievements.  Those young men and women did not pretend to be nationally talented – they truly were and are. 

By contrast, the university administration’s tendency toward professional exaggeration – silly insistence that everything is the best, the greatest, in all North America – is embarrassing.  Many in the city, knowledgeable and well-read, are neither shocked nor awed by ceaseless puffery.  It’s very close to a 24/7 confidence game, the marketing of exaggerations as truths. 

The university (1) has seen an increased student demand for residential housing but not committed to similar increases in student housing on campus, (2) has spent money on headline-grabbing projects over additional housing, (3) may not have the money (or the will) to build more housing now.

What’s to be done, if the money’s not there for big construction?  (I’m not sure it is, and I’m even more convinced that the city’s fiscal account, weak economy, and hectoring over zoning only further reduce the incentive for additional, high-density private construction.) 

Quick suggestions for the university administration:

1.  The university will have to advocate for students, and commit to this community, beyond committees that have made no practical difference.  There will have to be a day-and-night effort to aid the integration of students into the whole community. 

How do I know a few committees have made no practical difference? 

Because if they had, we wouldn’t be arguing about zoning and enforcement all these years later.

2.  Commit to additional, residential construction near the (public) Starin Residence and the (private) Element. 

The university has asked Whitewater for millions in city bonds (municipal debt) to fund the tech park.  It’s time to seek money for residential housing from non-city sources.  

3.  Private works better than public: time to lobby Whitewater to create enterprise-style zoning for construction in the northwest corner of the city.  Here’s a goal: the fewest regulations possible in any Wisconsin community for that area. 

I heard a councilmember in March declare that he didn’t want Whitewater to wind up like Houston.  It won’t; between Houston and our stagnant present there’s ample room for a very low-regulation area.

It’s unpersuasive that Old Whitewater’s stalwarts want building in the northwestern corner if they can’t – or willfully won’t – understand that their regulatory schemes and profligate spending have impaired private capital investment. 

Pointing to the northwest corner isn’t enough: there will have to be buildings there.

4.   The university should do everything it can to get its faculty to live in town.  They work here, why won’t they live here?  I’d not compel, but the university’s not even trying.  I am well aware of recent academic studies on housing that (a) compared Whitewater with other, nearby towns, and (b) of student housing in particular. 

Overall, though, what has the university done to encourage faculty to become residents?  Not much, as more and more of them seem to be living beyond Whitewater.

I’d choose Whitewater over any other city, and they would, too, if only there’d be a greater effort.  (Telling people sotto voce that it’s better to live in Fort Atkinson is both discouraging and wrong.  Whitewater’s the place to live.)

These are hot-button issues, but I don’t write to be popular.  I write because I believe these points to be true.  I know that the Old Guard prefers to discourage alternative points of view.   They may prefer as they wish, but to no avail; they’ll never have that closed and controlled media scene again.     

More ahead, tomorrow.

Tomorrow: Zoning Debates are Often Just a Distraction from Failed Criminal Enforcement Strategies.