Regulations will not save this place. But the right ones might bend the curve to ensure development in East Hampton that is more in keeping with what town leaders some 20 years ago took great pains to describe.
"The Town treasures and is committed to sustaining its rich array of natural and cultural resources, authentic sense of place, rural character, and the people who make it unique. East Hampton is and will continue to be a 'green' community, a leader in protecting the environment, saving energy, and preserving open space. Future development should be harmonious with the existing character of the community. . . ."
What a fine vision — pulled from the town's 2005 comprehensive plan. But it raises the question: Is this us anymore?
Anyone who's paying attention knows that development in this town has run amok: too big, out of character, wasteful, too much clearing, injurious to the very things that have drawn people here — the countryside, the shorelines, nature, community.
Which is why more than a year ago the town board wisely put together a group of town staffers and citizens to tighten town zoning codes: to reduce house sizes and the scale of development and generally to begin the process of bringing new construction more in line — environmentally, aesthetically, emotionally — with what town leaders envisioned two decades ago and with what is surely the prevailing local will.
The first wave of proposals are up for a public hearing with town board members next Thursday, Nov. 7, at 6 p.m. at Town Hall. "First wave" is aspirational; it very well could be the only wave, which would be a terrible shame.
What is being proposed so far is modest, but it has come up against fierce headwinds from developers — builders, architects, real estate agents, all representing clients, employees, suppliers. With many in that all-powerful industry in lockstep, there is slim guarantee of additional sensible proposals. Yet more are needed.
The proposals so far include regulations to get structures out of the groundwater and to reduce regrading and soil displacement in new construction. They also would require that all attached garages over 600 square feet in area and any portion of a finished basement over 600 square feet be counted, at least in part, toward allowable house sizes. Accessory structures and garage heights would be limited to 20 feet for pitched roofs and 15 feet for flat roofs, down from 32 and 25 feet.
The proposed rules also would close a loophole that enables developers to excavate and regrade lots to build walk-out basements — creating three-story houses, which are not allowed.
The only thing in this set of proposals specifically on house sizes would be a reduction in the maximum allowed to 10,000 square feet, down from 20,000. But that would apply only to a tiny percentage of building lots in town.
Stopping the immensification of neighborhoods around town will require tackling something called — in municipal speak — the gross-floor-area formula. The zoning code working group, headed by Cate Rogers of the town board, has said it intends to tackle the formula after these initial proposals are approved.
The formula's inadequacy is visible everywhere around town — from the lots east of Ditch Plain in Montauk to the Lanes in Amagansett to areas of Springs. As it stands now, houses are limited to 10 percent of a lot's area plus 1,600 square feet, with a maximum allowable size of 20,000 square feet. So, for example, the four lots at Ditch Plain, where the East Deck Motel used to stand, will each have houses of more than 5,000 square feet — two have already been built — in a neighborhood where a house half that size would be considered big.
It's astonishing that even as so many see and know with immediacy and vividness what development has done and is doing to our world out here we just carry on, as if doing basically the same thing we've been doing for 40 years will result in anything other than the further erosion of the quality of life and environment here.
Bringing some rational restraint to allowable house sizes across all lot sizes is the right thing to do. It's in line with all the town's stated goals: to reduce the waste of materials and resources, to address the affordable housing crisis, to minimize the growth of energy and electricity consumption and water use, to reduce the corrosive impact of development on groundwater and surface waters, to pull back on clearing and the destruction of natural resources and wildlife habitats, to increase our flood resilience, to protect dark skies, and to protect open space and the character of our various communities.
The building industry folks will argue that further restrictions — size limits in particular — will erode the value of our properties. That's unsubstantiated alarmism. Yes, restrictions will hopefully yield smaller, more carefully considered construction, buildings more in line with the character of the existing community. But does building size always translate to value?
There is much evidence that zoning regulations that protect the very essence of communities — in places like Martha's Vineyard, Charleston, S.C., Carmel, Calif., and Santa Fe, N.M. — have ensured they remain real estate gems (even as they continue to struggle with the flip side of high value — the same socioeconomic and environmental problems we face here).
Regulations will not be a silver bullet. The real estate feeding frenzy will continue. Most of our remaining unpreserved woods and dunes will be gobbled up by luxury, seasonal-only housing, and all the modest houses that remain — most of them perfectly good — will likely be torn down and replaced.
But we must push back. So much good remains. It is within reach to preserve what is left, our sense of community, the look and feel and livability of the place. The only way is to keep pressing our public policy imaginations to do everything possible to save this place from being gobbled up only for the money. Every step with that mind-set is worth taking.
See you Nov. 7.
Biddle Duke lives in Springs.