Fate can teach us fiscal sustainability

(Reading time: 5 minutes)

In a somewhat puzzling change of venue, Staunton’s city council will be meeting Wednesday evening to discuss the Comprehensive Plan update not at city hall—where its chambers have more room, better seating and the proceedings can be readily videotaped—but in the second-floor meeting room of the Staunton Public Library. The ostensible reason for this choice is to bring the discussion into more of a community setting, which doesn’t speak well of the council’s perspective on its own digs. But given that the community is invited to watch but not speak at this last public airing of the update before a council vote later in the month, you do have to wonder about the logic of it all.

But let me not quibble. With the deadline for public input now past, it will be interesting to see just which of the plan’s shortcomings will be addressed and how, and whether they will be deemed sufficient to send the whole exercise back to the Comprehensive Plan Commission for revisions. That seems unlikely, even though some of the update’s omissions are rather glaring, as I recently documented. That’s not how these meetings usually work.  But one of those omissions—any  acknowledgment of the city’s huge unfunded liability to replace a leaky and brittle century-old water delivery system—when viewed in the context of the McIntosh Village development, which recently received qualified approval, underscores an even more fundamental hole at the center of the plan: its failure to address issues of fiscal accountability. And that all by itself should compel a do-over.

Just as the “comprehensive” plan conveniently ignores major capital improvement expenses that will become unavoidable over the next 20 years, so the McIntosh Village application was processed without any true understanding of what it ultimately will cost the city. Unlike infill development, which is how the comprehensive plan assumes the city will add most new housing over the next couple of decades, and which benefits from existing city infrastructure, McIntosh Village will add 267 new homes over a five-year period. That’s 267 homes that will have to be serviced by thousands of feet of new roads, new curbs, new water lines, new sewer lines and new storm water management systems. Once in place, all that new infrastructure will become the city’s responsibility in perpetuity to maintain, upgrade as needed and eventually replace.  

How much will that cost? No clue. But as with the ignored water mains that supply Staunton with its water, this is the kind of predictable but significant expense that the Comprehensive Plan doesn’t recognize—not just at McIntosh Village, but in numerous other parts of the city where such development can be reasonably expected, such as the large open tracts zoned for low-density residential housing along Springhill Road. There simply is no city policy that requires a staff assessment of what financial obligations Staunton is accepting when it approves a new development.

A housing development isn’t only a financial burden, of course. Improved property adds to the real estate tax base, the residents who fill its homes presumably spend money in local businesses and thereby pay city sales tax, and so on. But just as any well-run business won’t undertake a significant expansion without preparing a spreadsheet that balances expected costs against anticipated revenues, a city shouldn’t willy-nilly take on 40- or 50-year obligations without a clear-eyed understanding of what that means for city residents.

This isn’t a revolutionary idea, although admittedly it remains somewhat rare among municipalities. But consider the example of a city northeast of Dallas, Texas, with a population of roughly 23,000, or just a bit smaller than Staunton. Fate—yes, that’s the name of the city—adopted its first comprehensive plan in 2015, then updated it five years later. It’s worth a look, if only to dispel any notion that the Lone Star State is completely allergic to any kind of land use planning. Apparently, that’s true for only some parts of the state.

As Fate would have it (sorry, couldn’t resist), any proposed developments within the city have to provide answers to four basic questions:

  • What infrastructure costs will be created?
  • What long-term maintenance obligations will result?
  • What tax revenue will be generated?
  • Does the math work over the long-term?

Or as the city explains at more length, its comprehensive plan includes a “fiscal sustainability” policy, which “means that over a long-term period the City of Fate will be able to cover its cost obligations and provide high service quality for its residents without major increases in property tax rates, high levels of debt through bond issuances, or degradation of city facilities due to lack of maintenance staff or resources. To maintain fiscal sustainability it is therefore critical that we  evaluate new development proposals not only against our adopted development regulations and construction standards but also in relation to the fiscal productivity of the project” [emphasis added].

There’s a whole lot more explanation in Fate’s comprehensive plan for anyone who wants to get into the weeds, including a definition of fiscal productivity and a sample of the spreadsheet the city uses in its evaluation, but the bottom line is simply this: “These contributions and costs are compared to one another to ultimately determine if a project is going to contribute to the long-term fiscal sustainability of the city, or whether it will serve as a financial drain on our city’s taxpayers.”  The remarkable thing about that statement is that it comes from a city marked by explosive growth, with a population that is expanding almost 8% annually—precisely the kind of city most susceptible to the municipal version of a Ponzi scheme, in which current residents get the benefit of a sudden infusion into the tax base while the cost of paying for its long-term obligations are kicked down the road.

We’re seeing now how that works out long-term, and it’s not pretty. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t adjust course for the benefit of future Stauntonians by having a comprehensive plan that adds fiscal sustainability to inclusivity, harmony, and all of the other aspirational values it embraces.