San Francisco, Measure C
San Francisco Measure C, subtitled “Real Estate Transfer Tax Exemption and Office Space Allocation,” was passed by the voters in March, 2024. It passed because it is an appeal to The American Dream. Upon closer scrutiny, I think, this will prove unrealistic. I am a lifelong city person. I, too, dream the American dream but, when I dream it, it is not the city. It is anywhere but the city. It is a return to a more congenial environment, beyond the confines of the urban “environment.”
Rooftop gardens are pitiful. I have spent a lot of time on rooftops, the only practical escape from the harsh, city environment. I have been an occupant of several “artist buildings,” more-or-less adapted for artist live/work use. I say an occupant, not tenant, resident, or any other such respectable title because I know I was tolerated—indulged—as a special needs tenant. All the buildings had outlived their use for industrial purposes, as are the buildings in San Francisco, now being marked for conversion to private property.
It has ever been a case of economic transition. The Covid pandemic work-from-home trend appears to have taken hold, and for technological reasons, will not reverse. While the particulars differ from past economic transitions, the paradigm holds. Let us call it what it is. What is about to take place is simply another instance of gentrification. Both the commercial property holders, and the people who now occupy the district, will be dispersed. And then only if gentrification succeeds, which I assert is not certain.
The economic calculation is too sketchy for serious consideration at this point. My reservations keep coming back to the experience of downtown living, to the aesthetics of the transfer deal. As an exit survey follow-up question of my own, I would like to know how many voters who voted “for” would consider joining the proposed neighborhood -of actually living there? Not to put anybody on the spot, but that is assuming all respondents already know what it is like to live downtown, and can't wait for another opportunity to do so.
It's weak journalism to put oneself in the foreground. However, it's either suppress comment on the matter entirely, or bring up my own memories of city living as I review the controversy at hand. It was neither the best, nor the worst experience, I had occupying a former industrial building converted to legal habitation, when I got caught-up in the City of Los Angeles Convention Center expansion, guided by the Community Redevelopment Agency (CRA), in, or around, 1986-87.
I was courteously—but firmly—asked to move out of a condemned building. As luck would have it, at the exact same time, an abandoned industrial building on the East Side of L.A. was acquired by a coalition of private and public interests for conversion to specifically artist lofts. Located on Santa Fe Avenue, it would be designated the Santa Fe (artist) Colony. For context, it was all on paper at that point. Nonetheless, as the same City agency forcing me out of my current location was participating in the artist lofts project, I was entitled to preferred treatment. I reserved one of the basement units. The bare concrete floor was more appropriate to metal sculpture, which I was working with, than the old wood flooring of the upper units.
To return to the point, and one which matters (or should) to everyone concerned, the commercial district allocated for conversion under Prop. C is already occupied by private-sector tenants. It may not be legal occupancy, but, as I said, landlords will compromise when business calls. From my experience in Los Angeles, I predict the San Francisco City Council will, sooner or later, vote to condemn all the commercial property, claiming it under right of Eminent Domain. So, as to the experience of living in an area designated for commercial use, many lease agreements will soon be worthless pieces of paper. That's what happened to me.
Lucky for me, the CRA allocated relocation compensation. If I may ask, are you ready to compensate those persons who will be forced to relocate? Where will the money come from? Perhaps a bond, or another ballot measure, to make up the difference? Back to the subject of the aesthetics of city living, be forewarned none of the proposed units will be ready for occupancy any time soon. Let's consider the need for toxic building materials abatement. What could be sweeter than moving into a Leeds Certified office building? What you should consider is the problem of bringing an old commercial building up to environmental standards, standards suitable for 24 hour human occupancy.
What fun it would be to decorate a high-rise office space converted to residential occupancy! Architectural Digest is reserving an entire issue for the debut. My next concern is whose dwelling is it? Since very few individuals have the expertise—and the resources—to renovate a commercial space, we may expect most owners will not actually reside at the location. Finished units will (more likely) be available for investment, sale, lease, timeshare, and even Airbnb arrangements.
Why this matters is because the main thrust of Prop C is to create housing, and I think what we all mean by “housing” is sustainable neighborhoods. As Mayor Breed says in a section of the Measure published for comment, the project is intended to “create a dynamic neighborhood where people can live, learn, work, and play.” It is a noble, worthy aspiration, but does anyone at this point not have creeping doubts as to the likelihood of that happening? Won't it, rather, become a vacation playground for mostly foreign visitors to San Francisco?
I thought of a catchy corporate identity for the project. Let's call it Epicenter. After all, isn't the danger of living in a high-rise, of being in a high-rise at the moment of impact from earthquake the unstated premise, the fine print on the agreement to live in San Francisco, with its beauty, wealth, refinement, all gambled on a random event that will reduce most faulty construction to rubble in a moment? That's what we love about San Francisco! When there, I imagine I hear the rumble of an infernal engine miles beneath the ground. The proud downtown buildings look (to me) like rows of tuning forks. Each one vibrates at its own, unique, pitch. Like a tune in the head, it is perceived by the sense organ of the inner ear.