Austin @ Large: Welcome Back, Kirk
Austin Inc. embraces the man while ignoring his message
By Mike Clark-Madison, Fri., Dec. 5, 2003
Let's recap, shall we? From 1997 to 2001, Kirk Watson was the mayor of Austin. During that time he (in the chamber's words) "presided over Austin's biggest economic boom." He left office to run for state attorney general. He is, of course, not attorney general now; instead, he's been lawyering and (again, according to the chamber) "speaking throughout North America about economic development, urban planning, and regionalism, using Austin as a practical model of how cities can create economic health while maintaining their special character."
The chamber is telling us this because it has just ("unanimously") chosen Watson to be its chair-elect -- making His Nibs the heaviest political hitter in memory to assume such a role. Yes, we remember the many times and ways the Chronicle suggested Kirk Watson was not, in fact, such a great guy or such a big deal. But we also concede he has cast a giant shadow that has obscured City Hall's vision ever since. Placing him at the apex of the Chamber of Commerce is pretty couplike, a salutary step toward the chamber's stated goal of making itself once again relevant. (It's also a nice, high-profile perch for Watson to occupy for the next two years, from which he can climb down in 2006, just in time to make another run for office: statewide, or for the Lege, or even for his old job. But we'll leave that aside for now.)
Time Marches On?
Being in a generous holiday mood, I hope the chamber's bestowal of its crown upon Kirk Watson means that time has really marched on. Because Watson ran for mayor in 1997 against Austin Inc. and its longtime council champion Ronney Reynolds, and his victory was the culmination of the Green Machine's slow and steady conquest of City Hall. Even at the time, progressives had to stifle their gag reflex -- watching Watson throw around trial-lawyer money and strike the relevant poses to convince mainstream Austin (whoever that is) that he wasn't one of those crazy hippies who just happen to have been right all along about Austin's economic and cultural destiny. (It was because of Watson, after all, that we have a $100 campaign contribution limit.)
If Austin Inc. had been right, by its own reading of the history since, there might be no Austin success story for Watson to now share with civic leaders in Manitoba. (It was us lefties who said the boom would have happened with or without the Kirkster.) And had Austin Inc. elites not bet against the Green Machine and its vision, they would not now (at least in the chamber's case) be worrying about their relevance. Them's the facts. During the boom years, when I covered the rise and fall of the tech titans, I heard the same message often from the Silicon Generation: Kirk Watson was the first leader who ever impressed them enough to engage in politics, and they couldn't give a rat's ass about the Chamber of Commerce.
It's been a long five years, and the political landscape has fractured along new fault lines, and the idea of Kirk Watson leading the chamber now seems a lot more sensible. Or at least it would if Austin Inc. were not -- simultaneously -- letting the city know that it's 1997 (or earlier) all over again. Which brings us back to the chamber and RECA's soft-headed and shrill (respectively) denunciations of the City Council's proposed ban on big-box retail over the aquifer.
The Real Smart Growth
Like I said, I have misgivings about an aquifer big-box ban, or I would if I dealt with the issue as superficially as has Austin Inc. Yes, it's true that grocery stores generate more traffic than do other kinds of retailers, so an exemption for grocery stores makes little sense if trip counts alone were the issue. And yes, it's true that a size cap within the city limits might encourage big boxes to take their tilt-wall and polluted runoff and sales tax outside those limits, which would be counterproductive if Austin had no means, tools, or interest to devote to working with its neighbors. (Who is it, exactly, that wants big boxes? Sunset Valley doesn't want 'em. Bee Cave doesn't want 'em. Lakeway doesn't want 'em.) And yes, it would be silly to allow three identical little boxes to occupy the footprint denied to one big box -- which is why we also need the design guidelines that the chamber and RECA both say they support, while vociferously opposing a size cap.
But what was it, again, that Kirk Watson was preaching on from sea to shining sea? Oh, yes: "economic development, urban planning, and regionalism." A retail size cap, whether over the aquifer or citywide, supports Austin's stated needs and objectives in all three of those areas. Allowing untrammeled big-box development -- an orgy of low-value, low-wage, short-term investment -- to soak up desirable land and capital is hardly the kind of "economic development" Austin needs. It is the opposite of urban planning, particularly over the recharge zone, which really needs planning to become a functional (albeit low-density) urban area, instead of an arbitrary patchwork of atrocious sprawl and green forbidden zones. And as for regionalism, well, ask Sunset Valley.
A big-box size limit over the aquifer, along with water quality controls, real land-use planning, and partnership with Austin's neighbors, is, in fact, smart growth -- even smarter than the initiative that will forever define Watson's tenure as mayor. I don't know if Watson actually supports such a ban, but many of his friends do, because they realize it's consistent with the consensus Watson represents (see p.23). It's also consistent with what the citizens of Austin have been saying at the ballot box for more than 10 years, so one wonders when the land pimps will finally get a clue and start backing the mixed-use urban infill with local flavor that is still so dreadfully in short supply, given the size of the unserved market. (Tune in next week for the survey results from Envision Central Texas.)
The best the chamber and RECA can offer, in lieu of a big-box ban, is a "collaborative partnership" to invest in new pollution controls -- that is, a big public spending program by Austin's extremely cash-strapped water utility. (Of course, if the city raises water rates to fund such spending, it will be blasted by Austin Inc. for increasing the cost of doing business. It really is cheaper to simply regulate land use, guys.) This was the same solution, more or less, offered to the voters -- and soundly thrashed -- as an alternative to the 1992 Save Our Springs Ordinance. It falls far short of any Watson-sized vision of Austin's future glories. And for this to be the fanfare accompanying Kirk Watson's return to Austin public life makes even me feel sorry for the man. 
Got something to say? The Chronicle welcomes opinion pieces on any topic from the community. Submit yours now at austinchronicle.com/opinion.
