Abstract
“Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” provocatively claims that the movement to eliminate exclusionary zoning is misguided, and will create a worse set of social, economic, and political conditions than those currently produced by contemporary land-use regulations. In this response, I present several challenges to this claim. First, I demonstrate that “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” misses the well-documented political harms wrought by exclusionary zoning. Second, I illustrate that “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” misidentifies the central problems and solutions proposed by scholars and policy makers comprising the so-called Anti-EZ Project. These advocates seek fair and equitable land use—not the elimination of all regulations—as part of a broader housing policy agenda to increase the supply of housing in places that need it. They do not view local land-use reform as a panacea to urban inequality.
“Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” tackles a timely subject of increasing scholarly and public interest: exclusionary zoning and its relationship with housing and social justice outcomes. It makes a provocative claim: that getting rid of exclusionary zoning—a policy goal sought by many scholars and policy makers—would be a “cure [that] is clearly worse than the disease itself” (p. 215). It cautions readers against handing the levers of power in urban development to developers and market-oriented interests that drive urban politics’ growth machine (Logan and Molotch 1987).
There are several issues in “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” that lead me to recommend that readers should not, in fact, “learn to love exclusionary zoning.” First, it understates the enormous political harms wrought by exclusionary zoning, and how the political inequities engendered by these regulations preclude the exact sort of pro-housing, pro-equality political movement that “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” proposes.
Second, the article misdefines the social problem that researchers comprising the so-called Anti-EZ Project are trying to address. This leads the article to misidentify the most popular proposed policy solutions as “deregulatory.” Instead, scholars and policy makers in this space are trying to alter the contemporary regulatory regime to ensure that it better represents the interests of the general public, rather than the most vocal and privileged segments of society. Moreover, they do not, as “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” purports, believe that changing land-use regulations alone will serve as sufficient housing reform; rather, these scholars and policy makers view these zoning changes as an important first step in a broader housing policy reform.
This response to “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” shows that land-use regulations—rather than serving as tools of democratic empowerment—amplify the voices of an advantaged group of older, White homeowners overwhelmingly opposed to the construction of new housing. This potent group of opponents fights market-rate and affordable housing alike, blocking the production of the subsidized and affordable housing endorsed by “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning.” I then outline proposed responses to these inequities. Policy makers and scholars concerned about these political inequalities—and their policy consequences—endorse a series of policy reforms at the state and local levels to create more fair, equitable, and sustainable land use. These reforms stand to increase the production of housing in the places where we most need it. But, I argue, their reach—especially in the most disadvantaged segments of the housing market—will be more limited as a consequence of massive federal government disinvestment in this arena. They are a necessary, but insufficient in isolation, policy reform.
Political Inequality and Exclusionary Zoning
Exclusionary zoning has a profound and distortionary effect on local politics. There is a rich political science literature that shows that the structure of public policies can have a substantial effect on political participation. Sometimes, policies enhance participation by providing individuals with the tools they need to participate, creating constituencies that seek to maintain their benefits, and increasing trust in government (Campbell 2005; Mettler 2007). Other times, the picture is bleaker, with public policies depressing political participation by reducing individuals’ resources and trust in government (Michener 2018; Weaver and Lerman 2010; White 2019). Policies can also amplify underlying participatory disparities; many efforts at electoral reform have succeeded in increasing turnout—but, only among the most advantaged voters, thereby increasing participation gaps between the rich and poor (Berinksy 2005; Burden et al. 2013).
What kind of participatory effects should we expect from exclusionary zoning? Land-use regulations frequently trigger public hearings on local development projects, including many that are quite modest in scope (Einstein, Glick, and Palmer forthcoming; Schleicher 2013). Indeed, in response to the developer excesses of urban renewal, American cities moved in the latter part of the twentieth century to encourage neighborhood involvement as a standard part of development review (Schleicher 2013). “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” makes a presumption that the neighborhood participation baked into land-use regulations will enhance democoratic representation.
But, there is ample reason to expect the opposite. My work with David Glick and Maxwell Palmer shows that these neighborhood forums create gross political inequalities in land-use proceedings (Einstein, Glick, and Palmer forthcoming; Einstein, Palmer, and Glick 2019). We outline a number of reasons that we should expect the voices heard at these ostensibly empowering forums to be unrepresentative of the broader community. Canonical political science research predicts generally higher political participation among advantaged residents (Schlozman, Verba, and Brady 2012). These forces are likely especially potent for homeowners eager to defend their property values and exclusive access to public goods (Fischel 2001; Trounstine 2018).
Moreover, the racist origins of zoning (Rothstein 2017; Trounstine 2018) may prove especially dissuasive to residents of color. Negative state–citizen interactions can reduce trust in government, and thus political participation (Michener 2018; Weaver and Lerman 2010; White 2019). The impact of racially exclusionary zoning and land-use regulations is more indirect than that of the American carceral state (Weaver and Lerman 2010; White 2019) and Medicaid (Michener 2018)—two policy areas where these depressive participatory effects have been well-documented. Nonetheless, we might expect the racist history of America’s land-use regime to decrease trust in local govenrment, thereby depressing turnout among residents of color.
My data analysis (with David Glick and Maxwell Palmer) reveals disparities that are normatively troubling and startling in their magnitude (Einstein, Glick, and Palmer forthcoming; Einstein, Palmer, and Glick 2019). “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” contends that “the mobilized inhabitants fighting development in their neighborhoods or communities are seen [emphasis added] to be generally unrepresentative of the community’s political will” (p. 233). These disparities are not simply a matter of perception; they are clearly and empirically documented.
We assemble a novel data set of participants in all planning and zoning board meetings across a three-year period in 97 cities and towns in Massachusetts. These towns cover a wide spectrum of communities, from racially diverse, socioeconomically disadvantaged cities, to small, homogenous, and affluent suburbs. Perhaps most importantly, they encompass a range of housing markets, from booming metropolitan Boston communities to struggling central Massachusetts former industrial cities. We collect the names and addresses of all commenters who participated in planning and zoning board meetings about the construction of more than one housing unit; these meetings featured both affordable and market-rate housing developments. The availability of addresses—an unusual feature only consistently available in Massachusetts—allowed us to merge this database of meeting participants with administrative data from the Massachusetts voter file and CoreLogic property records to learn detailed demographic information about these individuals (Einstein, Glick, and Palmer forthcoming; Einstein, Palmer, and Glick 2019).
Table 1 compares meeting participants to all voters (Einstein, Glick, and Palmer forthcoming; Einstein, Palmer, and Glick 2019). Meeting commenters are significantly more likely than voters to be older, homeowners, men, and White. The disparities by age and homeownership status exceed 20 percentage points. The racial differences were also sizable; Latinos comprised 8% of voters, but only 1% of meeting commenters in these cities and towns. All of these differences hold when we employ more rigorous statistical models controlling for individual-level and community-level traits. Moreover, the comparison group we employ is voters; many of these disparities would likely be even more sizable when compared to the general public (Einstein, Glick, and Palmer forthcoming; Einstein, Palmer, and Glick 2019). Importantly, these trends hold across a variety of socioeconomic contexts. Within disadvantaged neighborhoods and localities, the most privileged voices are the ones participating in these land-use forums. There was not a single community in which land-use institutions empowered the socioeconomically disadvantaged or underrepresented minorities. In all communities—rich and poor, diverse and homogeneous—older, White, homeowners dominated land-use proceedings.
Demographic Differences Between Commenters and All Voters.
Source. Reprinted from Einstein, Glick, and Palmer (forthcoming).
Note. Differences on gender, race, and homeownership are statistically significant.
What’s more, the participants in these land-use forums were overwhelmingly and disproportionately opposed to the construction of new housing—both affordable and market-rate. A striking 63% of meeting commenters were opposed to the construction of new housing; a mere 14% showed up in support of the construction of new housing (Einstein, Glick, and Palmer forthcoming; Einstein, Palmer, and Glick 2019). This opposition persists in the face of a variety of project types. Moreover, few individuals opposed these projects on the “neoliberal” grounds frequently highlighted by “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning”; only 6% of opponents cited affordability as their reason for opposing a proposed development (Einstein, Glick, and Palmer forthcoming; Einstein, Palmer, and Glick 2019). These meeting participants are not, for the most part, using neighborhood planning institutions to enhance community affordability or redistribute resources.
This potent opposition stands in stark contrast to strong community-level support for affordable housing. In 2010, Massachusetts held a referendum on a piece of affordable housing legislation called Chapter 40B. In communities where less than 10% of the housing was affordable, the law permits developers to bypass local zoning, so long as they are building a development in which at least 25% of the housing units were affordable. We compare town-level support for Chapter 40B with the proportion of town-level commenters who expressed support for new housing developments (Einstein, Glick, and Palmer forthcoming; Einstein, Palmer, and Glick 2019). Figure 1 displays these results.

Support for 40B referendum.
In every community, support among voters for Chapter 40B exceeded support among meeting commenters for specific housing developments. It is not—as “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” purports—“the Anti-EZ Project’s deregulatory land use agenda” that the mass public opposes, but rather the construction of more housing—market-rate and subsidized—in their neighborhoods (Einstein, Palmer, and Glick 2019; Hankinson 2018; Marble and Nall 2017). Indeed, in Massachusetts, the state-level preemption of local zoning garnered 57% of the state vote in a midterm election.
The motivation of these local development opponents makes sense. New housing comes with concentrated costs to neighbors. In contrast, the benefits are quite diffuse (Einstein, Palmer, and Glick 2019; Fischel 2001; Hankinson 2018; Marble and Nall 2017). These data make it hard to understand where the “mobilized and democratically empowered local communities” who “employ a full range of public/community-controlled regulatory powers towards the construction of a robust affordable housing and anti-poverty/anti-inequality urban policy agenda” (p. 238) will come from. In no city in which these data were collected did such a coalition emerge at public meetings—even when highly subsidized housing developments were on the docket. Individuals may support affordable housing in the abstract, but not when there is a specific project proposed in their neighborhoods.
Moreover, poor communities are disadvantaged in land-use politics on multiple dimensions. They frequently lack the regulatory tools that wealthier communities are able to employ to their advantage to stop development (Gabbe 2018). Even when they do have these regulatory tools, the proceedings are dominated by the most advantaged, who wield their influence to fight all development. What’s more, Levine’s (2017) work shows that, when disadvantaged groups do mobilize—using community defense as their justification—their words (unlike those of more advantaged NIMBYs) are largely ignored by political actors. These factors jointly spur the troubling gentrification and uneven land use that “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” rightly condemns. They concentrate new housing in locations that lack the regulatory features and turnout to participate (Einstein, Glick, and Palmer forthcoming). Privileged communities are politically protected from development, while disadvantaged communities bear the brunt of new construction.
Neighborhood participation in land use sounds good in principle—and, as such, has been a cornerstone of urban planning (Arnstein 1969; Brabham 2009; Fung 2006). But, in housing politics, it in practice acts contrary the very forces that “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” purports to support. Rather than amplifying the voices of the underrepresented, these neighborhood forums have empowered privileged White homeowners to defend their communities. In cities large and small, rich and poor, diverse and homogeneous, the most advantaged dominate land-use proceedings.
These participatory inequalities also pose some important normative obstacles to “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning’s” claims about who has rights to the city. What if we somehow obtained universal participation in these forums? This would clearly be better than the current system. But, it still privileges the voices of current residents. Should we be privileging these voices? In contexts where communities are under heavy threat of gentrification, this feels less normatively problematic, with participatory forums acting as a bulwark of minority rights (Guinier 1994). But, in many communities, this type of system effectively allows current residents of affluent neighborhoods to block newcomers, locking in their privilege. Moreover, such a system excludes those who have no fixed place of residence, such as the homeless or migrants.
Perhaps, in response, we might devise a system where all residents or prospective residents could participate in land-use planning. But, it is unreasonable to expect people to learn about every possible land-use decision. Moreover, those living outside of a community may not feel that their voices will matter as much to community residents or elected and appointed officials. Information and efficacy are both important drivers of political participation (Finkel 1985; Lassen 2005; Shingles 1981), leaving these “outside” groups less likely to participate in land-use politics, even if theoretically welcome.
Understanding the Housing Crisis
Exclusionary zoning engenders profound political inequalities. It also—in part through these political processes—has a substantial effect on the housing market, limiting the overall supply and spurring a sizable increase in housing costs (Glaeser 2011; Glaeser, Gyourko, and Saks 2005; Glaeser and Ward 2009; Goodman and Pendall 2016; Gyourko and Molloy 2014; Gyourko, Saiz, and Summers 2008; Quigley and Rosenthal 2005; Schuetz 2009). This is not, however, the central social cost on which “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” focuses. The article notes that “the list of societal ills seen to be caused by EZ is as long as its supposed harms are deep” (p. 216). It, however, then focuses almost entirely on economic and racial segregation as the chief ills wrought by exclusionary zoning. It observes, “It is the supposed effects of this segregation that drives the Anti-EZ Project to vilify EZ most severely” (p. 217). Exclusionary zoning regulations were written with class- and race-based segregation in mind—and they succeeded, alongside federal policy and private markets, in their aims (Rothstein 2017; Trounstine 2018). This segregation has a profound effect on economic opportunities, health outcomes, our perceptions of other community residents, and the quality of local public goods, from schools to sewers (Butera 2018; Chetty, Herdren, and Katz 2016; Enos 2018; Rothwell 2018; Sandel et al. 2018; Trounstine 2018). Even if we curtailed exclusionary zoning, however, racial and economic segregation would no doubt persist—it is a multifaceted problem that defies single-pronged fixes at any level of government. Thus, if the sole aim of opponents of exclusionary zoning were to significantly mitigate economic and racial segregation by reforming land use alone, I agree that the movement would be, at a minimum, overly optimistic in the projected efficacy of their policy remedy.
However, most of the researchers who criticize exclusionary zoning contend that restrictions on the construction of multifamily housing are detrimental because they have contributed to exploding housing costs across the country—especially in communities with large numbers of employment opportunities (Glaeser 2011; Schleicher 2013) and high-quality public goods (Schuetz 2009)—by restricting the supply (Glaeser 2011; Glaeser, Gyourko, and Saks 2005; Glaeser and Ward 2009; Goodman and Pendall 2016; Gyourko and Molloy 2014; Gyourko, Saiz, and Summers 2008; Quigley and Rosenthal 2005; Schuetz 2009). Indeed, when scholars note costs to developers, they do not, for the most part, view developers’ social and economic interests as quantities of interest in their own right; rather, they theorize and estimate developer costs because these costs are passed along to consumers (Einstein, Glick, and Palmer forthcoming; Glaeser and Ward 2009; Schuetz 2009). When development becomes more expensive, less housing—and less multifamily housing, in particular—is produced, leading to an increase in housing prices.
On top of these substantial economic costs, the failure to construct enough high-density housing is a significant obstacle to sustainable urban growth in the face of climate change (Environmental Protection Agency 2017; Glaeser 2011). Indeed, as a recent New York Times op-ed observed, “In order to solve the climate crisis, we have to solve the housing crisis” (Wiener and Kamenn 2019). “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” instead makes the case that we can somehow address a growing need for housing and sustainability with “the pursuit of de-growth or a post-growth or a steady-state economy” (p. 229), though it is unclear how this would operate in a national and global context that continues to feature population growth and urbanization. Places with more land-use regulations of all types produce less multifamily housing, reducing community affordability, and environmental sustainability (Einstein, Glick, and Palmer forthcoming; Glaeser and Ward 2009).
A Deregulatory Solution?
“Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” misidentifies the central problem of great concern to the “Anti-EZ Project”; this leads it to confuse the purported solution. “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” claims that the central thrust of the “Anti-EZ Project” is a deregulatory one, involving the elimination of all land-use regulations. 1 This characterization belies a diversity of policy approaches in this movement. Most observers concerned about the deleterious effects of land-use regulations on the housing market want to see the construction of more multifamily housing—in many cases affordable and subsidized multifamily housing—and support regulatory tools that allow cities to accomplish these aims. This goal requires changes in land-use regulations—not necessarily their elimination.
Many in the “Anti-EZ Project” support eliminating single-family zoning—in which only single-family homes, often on large lots, can be built—replacing this regime with a regulatory approach that incentivizes the construction of multifamily housing (Grabar 2018; Yglesias 2014). Some offer specifics on how this might be accomplished equitably through additional regulation. Schleicher (2013) proposes imposing stringent limits on city downzoning (zoning an area for less dense usage, such as changing a multifamily district into a single-family district). He suggests cities have “targeted growth (or shrinkage) in the number of available housing units”; until they meet said target, “no downzonings would be allowed” (p. 1721) (see also Mills and Schleicher 2011). Mills and Schleicher (2011) outline a number of protective steps to ensure that such a measure does not drive development into politically weak areas, while politically powerful areas remain protected. Other regulatory possibilities include facilitating development via upzoning—zoning areas for higher-density housing—while imposing substantial impact fees, in which developers pay for the increased demand for public services generated by their development (Fennell 2014; Schleicher 2013). Others endorse inclusionary zoning, in which a predetermined percentage of housing developments above a certain size must be subsidized in perpetuity (Mukhija et al. 2010, though see Ellickson 1981, Powell and Stringham 2005, and Schuetz, Meltzer, and Been 2011 for evidence that inclusionary zoning does not reduce housing costs).
There are, no doubt, some members of the “Anti-EZ Project” who endorse a purely deregulatory agenda. “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning,” however, mischaracterizes the “Anti-EZ Project” movement as a misinformed “neoliberal” monolith, rather than a diverse collection of scholars and practitioners who endorse (and debate) a wide variety of regulatory proposals. While “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” acknowledges some movement interest in inclusionary zoning, it describes these policies as “a hybrid form of neoliberal urbanism” (p. 222), framing the accompanying measures such as permitting multifamily housing “by right” as deregulatory and market-oriented. In this vein, it presents an overly simplified picture of this complex policy arena.
The second set of solutions promulgated by the “Anti-EZ Project” center on state-level preemption. “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” highlights one that was perhaps least cognizant of spatial inequalities and unequal patterns of land use—the failed SB 827 in CA. SB 827 proposed allowing higher-density development—far beyond what was permitted by most local zoning codes—in areas proximal to transit stations. Importantly, this state-level preemption did not take into account the wealth of neighborhoods or municipalities that would be subject to state-induced upzoning. Notably, SB 827 failed because it did not acknowledge these spatial inequalities and uneven land-use patterns (Einstein, Glick, and Palmer forthcoming; Shaw 2018). State-level preemption that targets affluent communities and mandates the production of affordable housing—such as Massachusetts’ Chapter 40B—is, in contrast, significantly more popular with affordable housing advocates.
For many of these researchers and policy makers, land-use reform at the state and local level is part of a multipronged progressive housing agenda. Data for Progress’ “Homes for All: The Progressive 2020 Agenda for Housing” outlines the case succinctly. Before policy makers can “build millions of homes through publicly owned and other affordable social housing,” they must first “end racist exclusionary zoning” (Harrison and Kraemer 2019). Without changes to local land-use regulations, local, state, and federal governments simply cannot build public and subsidized housing, even when they are inclined to make such investments. Importantly, these advocates do not push for land-use reform alone as a solution to urban housing crises. Baca and Lebovits (2019) note, It isn’t news to those who work on the issue that simply changing a few elements of a zoning code within a small area would not, in isolation lead to new housing that’s affordable, nor make existing housing more affordable by creating more supply. Advocates recognize that reforming zoning on its own is not, has never been, and never will be a silver bullet.
These policies would help address a significant housing shortage and allow for sustainable housing growth. They may also help to redress significant socioeconomic and racial segregation and disparities; though here, their contributions will likely be more modest because of the broader scope of the problem and the recalcitrance of the most efficacious government partner. Indeed, at least some of these scholars—especially the “progressive” wing—seek these local- and state-level policies not because they believe them to be the most effective tools for redressing spatial inequality out of the full menu of options; it is because they are feasible. Sizable redistribution is most effectively accomplished at the federal level (Peterson 1981). Federal policy, however, is heavily constrained by high (and growing) levels of partisan polarization (Abramowitz 2010; McCarty, Poole, and Rosenthal 2006). Republicans currently control key branches of the federal government, making ambitious, progressive, urban-oriented initiatives unlikely (Dreier, Mollenkopf, and Swanstrom 2004). Moreover, American housing policy has experienced decades of federal disinvestment and retrenchment (Goetz 2013). Indeed, “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” contends, It is thus a far more sustainable solution (both socially and economically) to manage uneven neoliberal growth patterns properly in the first place, rather than cleaning up the mess after-the-fact by promoting additional growth in affluent suburbs (via Anti-EZ measures). (p. 229)
I am sure that many in the “Anti-EZ Project” agree that pursuing a different set of urban policies in the 1950s would have been preferable; but, given the many constraints presently facing massive federal investments in urban housing, the more modest state- and local-level approaches promulgated by the “Anti-EZ Project” represent promising and feasible—though more limited—alternatives.
Federal Retrenchment and the Housing Crisis
While scholars and policy makers can disagree about what precise mix of market-rate and subsidized housing is necessary to address the housing crisis, the unambiguous reality is that in many communities we need more housing, and that existing residents—especially homeowners—do not favor housing in their own communities. Indeed, neighborhood opposition–empowered by land use regulations–makes building the publicly subsidized housing that “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” and I both agree is desperately needed virtually impossible. These regulations are in every bit as much force—likely even more so (Tighe 2010)—when the developer in question is a nonprofit organization proposing affordable housing.
Where “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” and I agree is in the need for a strong political movement to push for progressive land-use and housing policy. The article portrays the anti-EZ movement as viewing “the cause of massive levels of both inequality and inefficiency” (p. 217). “The cause [emphasis added]” is an oversimplification; scholars and activists in this movement view land-use regulations as a critical impediment to equitable housing policy. They push for sensible land use as part of a broader movement about building our cities more densely, affordably, and sustainably. “Rethinking Exclusionary Zoning” contends: “The Anti-EZ project is, at its core, about a particular means to get affordable housing built (neoliberal market deregulation), rather than about the fight for affordable housing more broadly (including strong non-market measures)” (p. 223). It is, indeed, the case, that the “Anti-EZ Project” endorses a specific set of policy tools; but, I would argue that connecting a movement with achievable and effective aims enhances its likelihood of success.
At some level, these debates feel like we are fighting over scraps because of massive retrenchments at the federal level. More equitable and just local land-use policy must be a part of this conversation. Even if the federal government starts massively funding housing—not an especially likely outcome in the contemporary polarized climate—we will not be able to build enough of it if we do not reform local land-use policy. But, the private market and state and local subsidies, alone, will not provide enough housing for those who find themselves on the low end of the income and wealth distributions. For those broader social challenges, we need a return to strong central government support of housing. Moreover, many individuals are unable to secure housing not because of high local housing costs but because of insufficient incomes (Murray and Schuetz 2018). Here again, we need strong economic development policy oriented toward the production of more living-wage jobs.
These broader economic and political battles notwithstanding, the fight against land-use regulations that empower the advantaged is one still worth fighting. Indeed, substantial government interventions in the housing market—such as public housing and Low-Income Housing Tax Credits—are stymied by privileged neighborhood groups amplified by land-use institutions (Harrison and Kraemer 2019; Tomlinson 2019). As a recent Nation article observes, “While by no means a panacea, increasing the density of America’s cities is a prerequisite for any remotely left-leaning vision of the future” (Schneider 2019). Increasing density alone will certainly not be enough to address critical affordability, equity, and environmental challenges facing many American cities. It is, however, a critical part of these important struggles.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
