In his Aug. 12 column in Viewpoints [Stop calling us racist!], Josh VanderBerg makes an argument that I understand and do not think should be dismissed. Housing discrimination, restrictive covenants, redlining and exclusionary land-use practices are part of American housing history and Oak Park’s history as well.
Race belongs in this discussion.
Where I differ is in what follows from that recognition.
Acknowledging racial exclusion in the history of zoning does not, by itself, tell us what present-day policy will best produce affordability, integration or opportunity. History tells us how we arrived here. It does not automatically tell us which zoning change will get us where we want to go.
VanderBerg asks residents to look at their blocks and consider who lives there. I understand the point. But those observations alone cannot explain why neighborhoods look the way they do. Housing prices, income, taxes and available housing also matter.
They also do not tell us what will happen if single-family-only zoning is eliminated.
Suppose we accept VanderBerg’s historical argument. We still have to ask what comes next.
Will permitting duplexes, triplexes or other missing-middle housing produce substantial numbers of new units? What will they cost? Will people of modest incomes afford them? Will the change produce greater racial and economic integration? What effects will it have on infrastructure, schools, taxes, preservation and neighborhood character?
Those questions help determine whether a policy intended to remedy exclusion will accomplish that purpose.
There is also a danger in reducing this debate to a choice between maintaining an unjust system and supporting one particular reform. Oak Park can examine zoning reform alongside other strategies to expand affordability and opportunity.
VanderBerg writes movingly about the personal reckoning that followed his reading of Richard Rothstein’s The Color of Law. I respect that. Each of us must decide what responsibility we bear for correcting injustice.
But public policy requires another step.
After the moral reckoning comes the practical question: What works?
A policy can be motivated by admirable values and still fail to achieve its objectives. Conversely, asking whether a policy will work does not mean rejecting the values behind it.
That is where I find myself in this debate. I accept that race matters. I accept that exclusion matters. I accept that history matters.
But affordability matters too. Housing supply matters. Infrastructure matters. Schools matter. Taxes matter. Preservation matters. Renters matter, and homeowners matter. Longtime residents matter, newcomers matter, and future Oak Parkers matter.
The challenge before us is not to decide which one of those concerns is legitimate. It is to determine how they fit together and what combination of policies is most likely to produce the inclusive, affordable and sustainable community we say we want.
That is why I believe the debate should move beyond the question, “Are you willing to change a system with an exclusionary history?”
A more difficult, and ultimately more useful question, is this:
What changes will actually produce the community we seek, and what evidence do we have that they will work?
That question does not deny our history.
It asks us to learn from it.
Robert Milstein, an Oak Park resident, is a former village trustee.