Tom Daniels is director of the agricultural preserve board of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania and co-author of Holding Our Ground

(Island Press, 1997).

The Metropolitan Fringe: America's Premier Land-Use Battleground

It's a war. How else would you describe it? —Til Hazel, Virginia developer

Short-term gains have been defining the character of the battlefield. The short-term gain of a few at the expense of the many—not to mention the inefficient, non-sustainable use of the land—is not right. —Councilperson, Lorain County, Ohio

One Man's Struggle: A Cautionary Tale

Next to Clay Peterson's cattle farm, a developer has proposed building thirty-four houses on a 173-acre tract. Peterson's rolling farmland is about four miles from Interstate 83 and thirty miles northeast of Baltimore, Maryland. Peterson has owned his property for nearly twenty years, and in 1987 he sold his development rights to restrict the land to farmland and open space. He is worried that dozens of neighbors may threaten his livelihood and his way of life. Thirty-four homes could draw groundwater from the same aquifer, possibly lowering the water table and threatening his own water supply. Peterson expects to hear complaints about the smell of his cattle and is afraid his insurance rates could soar because of neighbors wandering onto his farm and possibly hurting themselves.

Clay Peterson has decided to fight the development in court, hoping either to reduce the number of houses or to force the developer to put them farther from his property line. It's too late to change the zoning next door, which allowed the houses to be clustered on one-acre lots as in a suburban subdivision. Sooner or later houses will be built next to Clay Peterson's farm.

"In two years, I'll see fifteen houses right out my front door," predicts Allen Moore, a neighbor to Peterson, adding, "this whole issue of development is a very heated one."

Once the Peterson case is settled, Baltimore County planners have vowed to change the zoning to avoid future conflicts between farmers and nonfarm neighbors.

Clay Peterson's predicament encapsulates the political, legal, social, economic, and environmental struggles that are erupting all across America in the fringe countryside just beyond the suburbs. Politicians want to promote economic growth, yet they have to be sensitive to the wishes of the voters to control taxes, protect the environment, and maintain a good quality of life. Politicians, planners, and developers are trying to decide how much development should be put within cities and towns and how much in the countryside. Local governments are sensitive about imposing land-use controls that may stir up property-rights advocates or be ruled a taking of private property by the courts. For landowners, developers, and concerned citizens not satisfied with the planning process, the courts have become the forum of last resort.

Newcomers from the cities and suburbs can bring pronounced and rapid changes, and long-term rural residents, like Clay Peterson, can feel invaded. Newcomers alter the social mix, reduce the amount of open space in the landscape, and change the local political priorities. As the number of newcomers increases, owners of farmland, timberland, and open ground face rising property taxes to pay for more public services, especially schools. And lucrative offers from developers tempt rural landowners to sell.

Some observers may see the changes to the countryside as a form of "creative destruction," a term coined by economist Joseph Schumpeter to describe the process of economic growth. Silicon Valley, for example, emerged in the Santa Clara Valley on top of what was once highly productive orchard land. The contribution to economic growth made by the computer industry has far exceeded the value of growing fruit. Others, however, may claim the countryside is worth retaining as a haven from urban life or as a place to produce food and fiber.

Differing opinions about the countryside beyond the suburbs point to the fact that it has become a tremendous economic asset. The strong economy of the 1990s, along with the communications revolution of computers, modems, faxes, and e-mail, has meant that Americans have a greater choice about where to live. The highly concentrated heavy manufacturing economy of the first half of the twentieth century has given way to a global economy dominated by services and high-tech manufacturing. The owners, managers, and employees of these businesses want to live in quality environments. Christopher Leinberger, managing director of Robert Charles Lesser and Company, the nation's largest independent real estate consulting firm, explains, "In the new knowledge economy, an area's quality of life translates into economic growth. Yet the places with the highest quality of life are always at risk of being 'loved to death.'"

Economists Peter Gordon and Harry Richardson point out that "most job growth, regardless of economic sector, is in the outer suburbs far away from downtowns and transit stations, even in the more transit-oriented metropolitan areas."

A home in the country is often perceived as a better investment than one in the city or suburbs. And the rural environment may be more pleasant. There is less traffic and crime and more open space, fresh air, and privacy. But as more people move to the countryside, these amenities begin to disappear.

Much of the new housing and commercial developments in the countryside comes in one of two forms: ( 1 ) a wave of urban or suburban expansion that sweeps into the countryside; or (2) scattered housing, offices, and stores outside of established cities and towns. Both of these forms of development are called sprawl, and sprawl presents a complex and serious challenge to local, county and regional governments seeking to manage their growth.

Growth Management

Growth management describes how people and...