Tactical Moments of Creative Destruction for Affordable Housing

1922 Standard Zoning Enabling Act and Euclidean Zoning

Zoning is the process of dividing a community into a set of distinct areas with specific uses (Abeles 1989; Kelly 2004). Zoning aims to “restrict noxious uses generally from urban areas dominated by housing” (Hirt 2012, p. 376). During the industrial revolution, city planners removed factories from residential areas restricting industry to commercial zones; they were lauded for improving air quality and city life. In the US, the 1922 Standard Zoning Enabling Act provided a common policy framework for local municipalities focused on decreasing density to reduce overcrowding, congestion, and crime, and protect public health (Wickersham 2001). The 1922 Act provided a model and tools to manage development and was adopted by all fifty US states (Kelly 2004). It is referred to as Euclidean zoning because of the court case in Euclid, Ohio, which established the Act’s constitutionality. Today the great majority of the population of the US lives in communities that are zoned (Fischel 2000).

Subsequently, many unintended consequences resulted. Suburbanites driving in cars spend a lot of time in traffic moving among single-use areas just to meet the needs of daily life. This stands in sharp contrast to the way past cities were built. In much of Europe, cities were built as compact, walkable, and encouraged mixed uses (Hirt 2012). Moreover, the four-use plan with interlocking roads requires tremendous investments in public infrastructure to support and manage growth and movement creating legacies structures that are difficult to change (Duany, Plater-Zyberk, and Speck 2010). Euclidean zoning reduced density (Schilling and Linton 2005; Wickersham 2001). But over time, Euclidean zoning separated multi-family housing from single-family housing, as well as segregated families with different incomes (Abeles 1989).

Euclidean zoning is now synonymous with hierarchical zoning where exclusive and attractive zones are set aside for single-family housing (Pollak 1994; Shlay and Rossi 1981). Local policy makers prescribe regulations for each zone addressing its use, intensity, and bulk, which are standardized throughout a specific zone (Kelly 2004). The intensity of a particular use is determined by minimum lot size, number of dwellings, building height restrictions, and parking requirements. Bulk refers to the actual volume of space of a building and is addressed by setback and maximum building coverage requirements (Burdette 2004). Potentially innovative forms of affordable or high density housing are often blocked by regulations around intensity of use and bulk.

Euclidean zoning is widespread despite long standing critiques (Been, Gross, and Infranca 2014; Burdette 2004; Jacobs 1961; McDougal 1972). Zoning is part of socially constructed legacy structures that include public policy decisions, such as those made by Federal Housing Administration (FHA) to offer loans with more or less stringent financing requirements. Social legacy structures include widely shared values and social patterns, such as the American dream of homeownership and the dynamics in the real estate market (Rohe and Watson 2007). For example, builders often focus to meet the needs of higher priced housing market segments and favor building large homes (Smith 2007). Today, builders are constructing fewer single-family homes under 1800 square feet and the building of townhouses has dropped in half (Joint Center for Housing Studies 2017). These marketplace legacies are further cemented through obdurate infrastructure, such as roads, sewers, power grid, waste collection, schools, and policing (see Figure 1).

OPEN IN VIEWER

Figure 1.

Creative destruction within legacy structures.

In Figure 1, we provide a snap shot of how the socially-constructed and obdurate legacy structures work to hold in place a housing market that is difficult to change, even though significant unintended consequences exist. For example, current zoning policy has “unintentionally shaped the US landscape into a sprawling, auto-dependent society characterized by segregated communities of isolated populations” (Burdette 2004, p. 2). Unintended consequences include suburban sprawl (Hall 2007; Wickersham 2001), racial and socioeconomic segregation (Hall 2007; Jacobs 1961; Shlay and Rossi 1981), increased average housing prices (Kling 2002), environmental and energy problems (Newman 1994), strained public services and infrastructure (Levy and Melliar-Smith 2003), and reduced quality of life (Schilling and Linton 2005), to name but a few.

Figure 1 outlines the unintended consequences of marketplace legacy structures.

At the macro level, socially-constructed and obdurate legacy structures create unintended social consequences within the US housing marketplace, such as a lack of affordable housing. At the micro level, however, it is possible to test temporary solutions to the problem of unaffordable housing—such as the rent-to-own example discussed in the introduction. Later in the essay, we explain one approach for encouraging tactical moments of creative destruction where grassroots experiments can be encouraged and evaluated to see if they are potentially scalable. At the meso level, for these fledgling solutions to be successful, social and infrastructure integration is needed. For example, the tiny house experiment in Detroit only worked when the rent-to-own pricing strategy was devised that was sensitive to the economic realities of low income consumers. Similarly, we know that people see their homes as an extension of themselves (Belk 1988). These one-of-a-kind homes with different styles were likely appealing to consumers and could be part of a successful formula horizontally scalable to other cities that also have blighted neighborhoods. Such a program will only be integrated if infrastructure exists, from sewers and plumbing to trash and educational services. In this rent-to-own program, other services already existed, such as bicycle loaning program for affordable transportation and a jobs program to help the chronically unemployed (PBS Newshour 2017). The next two sections demonstrate this interconnectivity by outlining the legacy structures and tactical moments of creative destruction needed to integrate affordable housing into the marketplace system.

Tactical Urbanism as Creative Disruption

Tactical urbanism is an approach to re-envision and re-design public spaces to be more people-centered. Other terms abound, including participatory urbanism, DIY urbanism, open-source urbanism, pop-up urbanism, and guerilla urbanism (Finn 2014; Hou 2010; Wortham-Galvin 2013). Specifically, tactical urbanism is the use of small-scale interventions that are “short-term, low-cost, and scalable” yet are aimed at long-term social change (Lydon and Garcia 2015, p. 2). One of the earliest examples is guerrilla gardening where citizens took over a vacant lot, cleared it, and built a community garden even though they had no legal right to the property (Wilson and Weinberg 1999). Often local community members, and even gatekeepers, become advocates when these interventions are well executed; urban tacticians’ ability to build multi-stakeholder coalitions is an important advantage (Davidson 2013; Radywyl and Biggs 2013).

Successful tactical urbanism uses an incremental, beta-testing approach. Projects are completed without investing large amounts of capital or jumping through bureaucratic hurdles that exist as legacy structures. This also means a greater variety of people can participate democratizing this process and perhaps generating a greater diversity of ideas. As Davidson (2013, p. 3) explains, tactical urbanism can be “very generative, allowing players to pilot projects on a small-scale, minimizing risk and cost.” Consistent with Darwinian Theory, this method expands the diversity of the genetic pool to maximize the chances for a beneficial mutation.

Tactical urbanism encourages citizens to take back their right to access the city. Tactical urbanism is perhaps most powerful when it helps stakeholders think in new ways about old problems. For example, the Open Street Movement is a widely popular government-sanctioned idea that emerged in Bogota, Columbia. City streets are closed for art festivals, biking, or other social gatherings that welcome people into the heart of the city on the weekend (Tactical Urbanism 2012). But revealing different uses for a city street is different than finding new affordable places to live because homes depend on obdurate infrastructure of water, power, sewer, and other public services.

But the methods of tactical urbanism, if modified and expanded over a longer time horizon, could work in the area of housing. For example, Portland, Oregon’s Dignity Camp emerged in 2000 as a grassroots protest by a group of homeless people who set up a “tent city” in an act of civil disobedience. Tired of being hassled by police, forced to relocate regularly, and often losing what few possessions they had in the process, they illegally set up a camp on unused public grounds. They garnered significant media attention and eventually got permission to permanently locate their community on public land that the city zoned as a transitional campsite. This experiment has evolved from “Dignity Camp” to “Dignity Village,” which is now a non-profit organization. The transition did not occur overnight. Dignity Village needed to develop social structures to support them, such as the social norms and self-governing rules shared by the 60 residents. They also needed to develop more permanent dwelling structures, like small individual homes and shared communal facilities, as well as the public utilities to support them. But this successful experiment has become a model replicated by other cities and countries beset by the problems of homelessness and housing affordability (Heben 2014).

The Method of Tactical Urbanism as Natural Selection

Successful tactical interventions seek to question taken-for-granted assumptions about how public space is used and who gets to use it. In this manner, tactical urbanists challenge current beliefs, behaviors, practices, and regulations (i.e., the socially constructed legacy structures) to creatively disrupt the current system and drive change. In the case of homes, some adaptations would be needed. We might use their approach to challenge where homes are located, the materials used to build the home, the size of a home, and so forth. But we would still need to examine the fit between the home and the social and obdurate legacy structures to consider how successful ideas are integrated. The goal is to catalyze long term change in the physical environment or policies (Lydon and Garcia 2015), which includes changes to integrate with marketing infrastructure (Layton 2015).

Tactical urbanism originally emerged as a response by citizens who were frustrated by legacy structures. Even the simplest of interventions in public spaces often faces significant legacy hurdles within local and state governments. Thus, advocates of tactical urbanism tryout small unsanctioned interventions and ask for forgiveness later. This is a boundary that obviously must be carefully crossed.

In Figure 1, we layout the process of tactical urbanism (see the micro level processes). The process first involves local people identifying a problem. For instance, the homeless group was the local group who questioned Portland’s right to ban their access to the city. Using low cost and often temporary materials, a small-scale solution is tried out. In this case, Dignity Camp was quickly set up using tents and campers. Urban tacticians expect to fail, and good solutions occur iteratively as they learn and refine. They try to generate many ideas but only select and develop those solutions that prove most effective. Dignity Camp, for example, had to move several times as the city enforced new zoning rules. But a key tool in the urban tactician’s toolbox is the use of publicity and media to build public support and exert pressure on those decision makers enforcing (and potentially trapped by) legacy structures (Davidson 2013). In this case, each time the City Council forced the camp to relocate, the homeless group generated pubic sympathy by having media document their long procession of shopping carts as they slowly moved to yet another site. Ideally, these experiments are carefully scrutinized, and the successful ones are promoted beyond their locale. For example, researchers and filmmakers have widely documented Dignity Village, which has helped this “good mutation” spread to new cities.

Although originally tactical urbanism was a plan for grass roots community organizing, more recently, governments and businesses are using the approach to break through calcified practices and beliefs that are also part of their legacy structure (Lydon and Garcia 2015). As Davidson (2013, p. 52) finds, “tactical urbanism can serve as a creative way for government to publicly source innovation while minimizing risk.” Thus, working at the meso level, the government becomes an innovation spotter. Radywyl and Biggs (2013, p. 162) argue that even unwieldy, large bureaucracies can employ these “agile strategies to reconfigure large urban environments.” They allow policy makers to plan and design in a people-focused manner and ensure that the public has input into the temporary reconfiguration before any expensive capital works occur.

Some city governments, operating at the meso level, are temporarily lifting zoning requirements in experimental areas of the city to open opportunities for businesses to innovate free from some of these legacy codes. For example, micro apartments are springing up and being evaluated to see if they better meet the housing needs of modern urbanites (Friedlander 2015). Obviously, this is a plan that requires significant investment in infrastructure for the city even as a trial case. But significant investment is not always required. For example, pop-up retailing can be a tool for urban renewal where entrepreneurs try out new retailing models within abandoned or dilapidated sites using existing infrastructure (see www.renewnewcastle.org). This could be a particularly potent urban renewal tool if cities encourage groups of would-be entrepreneurs to create a pop-up retail district by building new social structures and infrastructure to support them (e.g., tax free holidays, pedestrian walk areas, partnerships with tourism bureaus, low interest loans, short term insurance, public toilets, amenities, and so forth.)

Creative and Collective Disruption

However, we challenge and extend Layton’s MAS framework. Layton (2015) argues individuals, groups, and entities interact competing for individual advantage. As these actors struggle within a given action field to establish local dominance, their actions impact the structure, function, and outcomes of the marketing system. We argue that, as well as “jostling for individual advantage” (2015, p. 311), participants may also work together to enhance collective well-being. Actors may adopt a narrow, self-interested perspective in some settings, but they are also willing to initiate “reciprocal cooperation in the hopes that others will return their trust” in order to manage collective resources (Ostrom et al. 1999, p. 279).

Much of the immediate power of tactical urbanism arises when the community experiences the tangible idea. This first-hand experience of an idea that has been brought to life may galvanize the public support that is so crucial for greater financial investment and long term changes in legacy structures. The experimental iterative approach of tactical urbanism also allows various stakeholders to adjust to, and “experiment with the space, define activities, share knowledge and expertise, find mechanisms for consolidating practices, and learn to self-organize,” and ultimately build new system institutions or structures to support the initiative (Radywyl and Biggs 2013, p. 164).

It is at the meso level (see Figure 1) that many tactical urban projects succeed or fail. Tactical urbanism is particularly effective at highlighting unmet needs, such as homelessness or housing affordability, and suggesting potential local solutions (Marshall, Duval, and Main 2016). However, the long term success of a given project depends on efforts at many different levels across government, the private sector, the non-profit sector, and civic activists and leaders (Davidson 2013). At the meso level, these diverse stakeholders must be brought together to agree and work on a specific solution to the identified problem. However, tactical, trial interventions represent a key opportunity for reconciling knowledge controversies that tend to arise with a diverse set of stakeholders (Marshall, Duval, and Main 2016). Moreover, project visibility combined with small successes can legitimize a project, which can then be parlayed into greater support from a wider variety of organizations, institutions, politicians, and citizens (Marshall, Duval, and Main 2016). Learning, success, and capital (political, economic, and social) can then be leveraged into developing a permanent solution.

For example, the city of Christchurch, following the recent earthquakes, sanctioned the building of a community gathering place made out of salvaged materials called the Pallet Pavilion. The non-profit organization, Gap Filler, working at the micro level, led the project but worked to build community support, at the meso level, across stakeholders spanning government, businesses, and local citizens. This trial project was well-received by the community leading the city to endorse the structure for continued use and even expand to other vacant sites in the city. But experiencing the collective space was an important step for energizing the public will to crowd fund the sum of $82,000 to finance the structure to last beyond its initial one year lifespan (Tactical Urbanism 2014). These changes at the meso level occurred over months and years involving significant shifts in legacy structures. For example, the fire service had to develop a fire plan for the wooden structure, organizers had to negotiate with the local council to license the site, and they had to organize power and water for users. Eventually a formal trust was developed to manage empty spaces across the city and facilitate temporary uses by helping users navigate bureaucratic hurdles (Creative Spaces 2017).

Experiments in tactical urbanism facilitate social and infrastructure integration by building social networks and raising capital that can be leveraged for other projects. In fact, Gap Filler expanded horizontally into neighborhoods reclaiming abandoned lots and repurposing salvaged materials with the guidance and support of the locals. Radywyl and Biggs (2013, p. 168) advocate for a culture of regulatory experimentation and people-focused tactical urbanism as “the combination of prototyping, iterative experimentation and institutional facilitation prove a critical combination for creating disruptions that can lead to permanent reconfigurations within urban systems, in a variety of contexts.” And Dotson (2016, p. 149) argues, and finds evidence in the case of housing, that “many of the obdurate barriers to urban design alternatives can be addressed by making more room for intelligent trial-and-error experimentation.”

Go Smaller—Challenging Minimum Space Codes

The 2012 International Residential Building Code has, until very recently, required dwellings to have one habitable room with a minimum floor area of 120 square feet. Good reasons existed for having minimum space requirement per person, such as historical overcrowding in poorly constructed tenements and risks from the spread of communicable diseases (Alexander 2005). But given the widespread availability of vaccines, people routinely congregate in small spaces such as when college students live in dorms or military personnel live in barracks.

This minimum size requirement restricts industry from building smaller homes—such as tiny homes that are less than 400 square feet, or repurposing existing materials—such as homes built from shipping containers or straw-bales (Iglesias 2014). Yet the demand for smaller houses is growing with the dramatic increase in the number of single person households and the decline nationally in the average household size (Infranca 2013; Vespa, Lewis, and Kreider 2013). Micro apartments may provide an innovative alternative for young adults beginning their career in urban areas with high rents (Iglesias 2014). Millennials in particular desire housing near jobs and amenities, such as entertainment, recreation, and transportation (Mooney and Kilpatrick 2013).

In New York, Seattle, Boston, Vancouver, and San Francisco, policy makers are relaxing minimum space requirements (Been, Gross, and Infranca 2014; Mooney and Kilpatrick 2013). My Micro NY is one such example of a micro apartment complex built to address inadequate and unaffordable urban housing and to accommodate the growing small household population. At the meso level, the project was the result of a design competition sponsored by the city, and was built through the cooperation of the Department of Housing Preservation and Development and a local developer. The city waived minimum space requirements of 400 square feet and this project is a “trial balloon” that contains 55 units ranging from 250 to 370 square feet. But what are the new unintended consequences of these creative moments of destruction? Potential challenges might include strain on public transportation, limited parking, or complaints of overcrowding by neighbors (Abarbanel et al. 2016).

More is Merrier—Challenging Density Codes

Maximum housing density and single use zoning codes inhibit innovation by restricting lot sizes, limiting the number of dwellings per lot, and enforcing requirements for space for parking. Even when secondary units are allowed, few are built because the permit process is difficult or expensive (Withers 2012). Off-street parking requirements pose another legacy obstacle (Chapple et al. 2011). These ordinances make it difficult for entrepreneurs to experiment with affordable housing alternatives in single-family zones. But consider the benefits afforded to baby boomers retiring if they could build an accessory dwelling unit (ADU) in their back yard for extra income while also providing badly needed affordable housing for millennials or others.

The creative destruction of zoning density requirements creates a space for innovation. Proponents of ADUs argue that they can reduce city sprawl by allowing infill housing. Also, aging in place remains a very strong desire of many seniors (Pynoos et al. 2008). ADUs could accommodate a live-in caregiver, which could enhance seniors’ quality of life, save money, and allow them to stay in their home (Antoninetti 2008). A supply of accessible and affordable housing is critical for aging in place (Joint Center for Housing Studies 2014).

Elder Cottages is an innovative manufacturer that makes small modular units as ADUs. Residents living in Elder Cottages are more satisfied, independent, and use fewer formal services than elders residing in more conventional housing (Altus et al. 2002). Similarly, Santa Cruz, California is one of the least affordable cities in the US, but the city has experimented with different approaches to encourage ADUs (Bernstein 2005). Santa Cruz pioneered ADUs for affordable housing by changing zoning and providing social support, including pre-approved designs and low interest loan programs (Been, Gross, and Infranca 2014). Santa Cruz has continued to change regulations, as ADUs become more acceptable in the city and socially constructed legacy structures begin to break down (York 2017).

Thus, experiments by cities and manufacturers are well underway and they are tackling head on some of the potential legacy barriers. Yet a framework is needed to ensure the various concerns of different housing actors are considered and successful experiments are shared for potential scaling up. What problems arise from housing infills, such as strain on existing infrastructure, changes in the character of the neighborhood, or reduction in property values? Thus, locally appropriate infrastructure integration may be necessary to enable the success of this experiment.

Let’s Get Moving—Challenging Fixed Housing

To circumvent building and zoning codes, some home builders erect their home on a trailer or repurpose existing vehicles like school buses. However, these approaches are not without regulatory challenges (Mutter 2013). To be legal, the builder must register the home with the Department of Motor Vehicles as a recreational vehicle, and the structure must be no larger than allowed by applicable state law (Murphy 2014; Tiny House Community 2015). Yet, the Department of Motor Vehicles is ill-equipped and does not evaluate the inhabitability or safety of these homes on wheels. Moreover, recreational vehicles are not intended for permanent living. This creates challenges for tiny home owners in finding permanent sites for these traveling homes once completed. For instance, zoning regulations must allow year round camping for owners of tiny home owners to site their homes. Even campgrounds often have restrictions on the total number of days vehicles are allowed to stay.

Mobile homes also evoke negative stigmas and stereotypes about the nature of the homes (e.g., cramped interiors and cheap materials) and those who live in them (Hart, Rhodes, and Morgan 2002). These options will not be appealing to some groups. Moreover, once mobile homes are sited they are infrequently moved because costs are prohibitive (Rowe 1998). Yet, in a world where disasters are happening with far greater frequency, a clear need exists for affordable homes that actually move. We evoke the name of “traveling homes” to creatively destroy the socially constructed negative associations with mobile homes and the assumptions that homes must be site-based. The Internal Displacement Monitoring Centre (2014) estimates that disasters displaced an average of 27 million people each year between 2008 and 2013. For example, 600,000 households were displaced by Hurricane Katrina with the storm damaging more than a million housing units in the Gulf Coast region (Plyer 2016). The 140,000 FEMA trailers available to Katrina victims continued and even exacerbated the negative stereotype associated with trailers given their links to health-related disorders (Patel and Hastak 2013).

Imagine the creative destruction of FEMA trailers and the replacement with hand-crafted, locally-made tiny homes. Tiny homes built on trailers are indeed traveling homes. Although they may be an expensive method for housing people for a short duration, properly constructed, they can provide affordable long-term accommodation. In fact, federal authorities failed to recognize the housing needs of those displaced by the Hurricanes Andrew, Katrina, and Ike. Housing needs lasted 18 to 24 months and beyond, which is well past the provision for temporary housing provided by disaster policy (Mitchell, Esnard, and Sapat 2012). Traveling or tiny homes could also provide a housing solution to groups in flux or transition, such as migrant workers or workers who come temporarily to a community attracted by a boom cycle in the local economy.

This example exemplifies both opportunities for innovation in the system but also the potential dangers that come from a lack of helpful oversight. One can imagine that some of the entrepreneurial builders entering this new market are unqualified and the uninspected homes may have risks to home dwellers. But these experiments can also fuel innovation such in the area of efficient composting toilets, rainwater collection, small scale solar power, and small scale furniture that serves multiple functions. This may reduce the constraints imposed by some obdurate legacy structures.

Growing Organic Families—Challenging Single-Family Zones

Zoning policies assume a traditional nuclear family and create single-family zones consistent with this socially constructed vision (Pollak 1994). People unrelated by blood, marriage, or adoption cannot live together in some single-family zones (Alexander 2005). Thus, the traditional family of parents and children is codified into law, even though the traditional family represents only 20.2% of American households in 2010, and one in eight households contain one or more unrelated members (Lofquist et al. 2012). Regulations sometimes exclude households composed of students, families with foster children, group homes for people with mental or physical disabilities, and elders and their live-in caretakers (Pollak and Gorman 1989).

The creative destruction of limiting housing to this traditional notion of family could open up new social arrangements. Families emerge for a variety of reasons from people seeking to share housing costs, looking for companionship, or mutually giving care and support (Liebig, Koenig, and Pynoos 2006). Rather than call these nontraditional families, we call these “organic families” in the sense that their members voluntarily select one another. Although these organic families could take advantage of the existing single-family housing stock and existing infrastructure, many current zoning policies pose restrictions (Pollak 1994). Neighbors often oppose shared housing arguing property values drop, noise and traffic problems rise, and “undesirable” people come into the neighborhood (Pynoos et al. 2008).

Currently, over 11 million single parent households exist in the US, which is more than triple the number in 1970 (Lofquist et al. 2012). Mothers head 8.3 million of these households (Lofquist et al. 2012). In 2011, the poverty rate was 9% for two-parent families and 22% for single-father families, compared to the 41% rate for single-mother families (Casey and Maldonado 2012). Co-housing enables single-parent families to share housing costs and even parental duties. One social media service is CoAbode, which is a nationwide support service for single mothers to find other mothers to share housing and potentially forge organic families (see http://www.coabode.com). In a similar vein, The Golden Girls Network was launched to facilitate seniors co-housing (www.goldengirlsnetwork.com). Are these beneficial mutations that should spread or do new problems arise? In the concluding section, we explore the potential of tactical urbanism as an approach that can help the housing system both adapt and evolve yet still be mindful of the attendant risks.

The Housing Marketplace as a Marketing System

The US housing marketplace provides an example of how the formation, growth and change of marketing systems can be inhibited by historical legacies. Historical legacies are likely to be most consequential for hybrid systems where multiple, specialized, and interconnected markets compete for their own strategic interests. This would include any marketplace where numerous public and private entities are interconnected such as healthcare, transportation, and education.

Layton’s (2015) Mechanism, Action, Structure (MAS) provides a framework for identifying the causal processes that underlies the formation, growth, and adaptive change within systems. While we are sympathetic to this Darwinian perspective on systemic change, we seek to highlight the challenges to rethinking the beliefs, behaviors, norms, values, and social practices within a system where specific legacies support the status quo. For this reason, we argue that Darwinian change at times needs to be accompanied with moments of tactical creative destruction. We also challenge and extend Layton’s MAS framework. We argue that in these moments of creative destruction participants may work together to enhance collective well-being rather than compete for individual advantage.

Tactical Urbanism as a Possible Solution

We suggest the techniques of tactical urbanism as one potential approach for identifying innovative solutions to the affordable housing crisis. Tactical urbanism enables small cases of disruption to legacy elements without initiating overall destructive change. We argue the short-term, low-cost, neighborhood appropriate approach enables stakeholders to work incrementally beta-testing real world projects. This approach enables stakeholders to learn from these experiments and adapt the housing system to be more responsive to a wider spectrum of housing needs, especially those households who lack access to affordable housing. This is a strength of the tactical urbanism philosophy. Through such an approach, it may be possible to garner wider community support for change in both the built housing environment as well as housing policy to support a diversity of housing needs. Thus, we argue that both social and infrastructure integration at the meso level will be necessary to support these micro experiments.

In this way our proposed form of adaptive change is different to previous macromarketing research that has examined destruction and change within marketing system. Rather than systemic change as a result of unexpected environmental destruction (e.g. Baker et al. 2014; Ozanne and Ozanne 2016; Phipps and Brace-Govan 2011; Saunders 2016), these are planned moments of creative destruction that are strategic within the marketplace’s evolution. This approach seeks to balance the hybrid interests of competing entities to continue to exist within these complex and interconnected marketplaces.

Nevertheless, wider system change is possible within the US housing marketplace (Dotson 2016). Although Euclidean zoning still dominates, alternatives exist and are gradually emerging. A shift in the 1980s-1990s, called New Urbanism, saw some contemporary urban planners advocating for a return to the older principles guiding traditional neighborhoods that are well-loved and built with people in mind—albeit these are still centrally planned projects (Kunstler 1994). These form-based codes use “physical form (rather than separation of uses) as the organizing principle for the code” (Form Based Code Institute, formbasedcodes.org/definition). Therefore, instead of separating zones into specific uses such as residential, work, shopping, or government, a template can be used that is “intended for local calibration to your town or neighborhood” (SmartCode, www.smartcodecentral.com/).

The principles that guide many of the tactical urbanism projects share some of the same assumptions as New Urbanism. “In brief, the principles of new urbanism include high density, mixed use neighborhoods; convenient public transit, bicycles paths and pedestrian-friendly street networks; strategically placed open spaces; and architecture designed to foster social interaction” (Song and Knaap 2003, p. 219). These principles are consistent with many tactical urban projects. However, although many cities have adopted the philosophy of New Urbanism in their policies and plans, development patterns in North American suburbs often remain single-use and car-dependent (Al-Hindi 2001). Moreover, New Urbanism does not necessarily embrace the participatory and grassroots ethos of tactical urbanism and works within more traditional established legacy processes. Some of the architectural features associated with New Urbanism have caught on, but in a piecemeal way (Grant 2002) and often “weak political commitment and market pressures frustrate planners’ desires to create accessible and open communities” (Grant 2009, p. 11).

Envisioning Problems and Opportunities

Tactical moments of creative destruction are also not without problems. For instance, some tactical urbanism projects aim to raise consciousness and do not necessarily result in social or system change. For instance, Boneyard Studio showcased a tiny-house community in Washington, D.C. to demonstrate creative urban infill, promote the benefits of tiny houses, and model what a tiny house community could look like (see www.boneyardstudios.org). Ironically, these houses were uninhabited because existing zoning prohibited people from living in them. Similarly, Uneven Growth, a project of the Museum of Modern Art (MOMA), elicited proposals from interdisciplinary teams to address the challenges caused by rapid and uneven growth in cities around the world. The resulting exhibition and online repository highlighted the challenges that will face the world’s megacities and provided innovative solutions to ensure they will remain habitable. But interesting ideas must be backed by capital and political will and confront the legacy structures in the system.

Finn (2014) similarly raises a number of cautionary flags. An overreliance on the DIY efforts of tactical urbanists may in fact cede responsibility for the public commons to individual or private interests, “an abdication of public responsibility for, and control over, decisions that affect the citizenry at large” (2014, p. 392). In addition, the efforts of tactical urbanists to improve the city environ in low-income and under-developed areas may in fact hasten gentrification and potentially exclude those who are most vulnerable and in need of urban improvement. From a housing context, Bermann and Marinaro (2014) argue that DIY approaches, working in isolation, may be unable to overcome the legacy forces necessary to provide affordable housing. To state it more bluntly, one could argue that the shanty towns and urban slums are also examples of tactical urbanism and people reclaiming the city for their use. But, in their examination of two temporary settlements outside of Rome, Bermann and Marinaro (2014, p. 411) suggest these “DIY responses are stopgap solutions unable to challenge, let alone undermine, larger forces in urban power dynamics such as racism, housing inequality and the privatization of the city.”

To scale up ideas and challenge legacy structures, moments of creative destruction may work best when a coalition of partners work together and operate at both the micro and meso level. These coalitions need to take into account the interest of both public and private entities. For instance, the New York City proposal, from MOMA’s Uneven Growth project, aims to provide permanent affordable housing for very low, low, and moderate-income households through the development of a hybrid tenure framework, a cooperative housing trust which is sponsored by the public sector and co-managed by public representatives, community, and cooperative members (Cohstra 2016).

Other projects can be more carefully crafted with political ends in mind, engaging with government, and changing laws, or using social or infrastructure integration to create other supportive mechanisms to facilitate change. Tactical urbanists often miss the need to work with political and institutional bodies to formalize their interventions and implement long-term system change (Davidson 2013). Scaling vertically to work at the meso level with government and policy makers may be important to challenging legacy structures permanently (Radywyl and Biggs 2013).

Atlanta, a city described by the New York Times as “the epitome of suburban sprawl” (Fausset 2016), aims to convert 22 miles of unused railway beds into a biking and pedestrian loop. Submitted as an idea to city officials in 2001, the Atlanta BeltLine project illustrates the potential for tactical urbanism projects to resonate with policy officials and the community at large. Although only two miles are completed, 1.3 million people already walk the BeltLine every year and surrounding neighborhoods are increasingly desirable (Fausset 2016). Despite the success of this project in connecting mixed racial and socio-economic neighborhoods, fears exist that housing could once again become unaffordable if gentrification occurs. Thus, this process is best conceived of a push-pull process that must be continually scrutinized to encourage successes and guard against lost ground.

What might policy makers seeking to increase the supply of affordable housing learn from the micro experiments provided by tactical urbanists? Many aspects of tactical urbanism are central to the core ideals of urban planning, particularly the idea of democratic and participatory involvement (Finn 2014). Thus, policy makers should seek tools to engage tactical urbanists, encourage their input, facilitate their efforts, and harness their creativity. Tactical urbanists are place-based activists that can be part of a multi-stakeholder solution. Policy makers might support their efforts, at the meso level, through sponsoring projects, such as MOMA’s Uneven Growth or the New London Architecture’s competition to find solutions to London’s housing crisis (Mairs 2015). City officials might leverage additional resources from engaged citizens especially on initiatives that lack sufficient public funding and where policy makers are happy to accede to citizen-led efforts (Campo 2014). Monitoring the entrepreneurial activities of tactical urbanists is a creative means for policy makers to spot innovation while minimizing risk (Davidson 2013). Policy makers might also support or enable tactical urbanists’ experimentation through experimental and temporary regulations, which provide consumer protection while the innovative projects are allowed to proceed. The temporary nature means that both regulations and the innovation can be evaluated when the regulations expire so attendant risks can be identified and improved regulations put in place (Ranchordas 2015). For example, temporary regulations were set up to allow tiny homes to be sited on blighted urban land in Washington, DC.

What might marketers, seeking to increase the supply of affordable housing, gain from tactical urbanists’ attempts to challenge legacy structures in the housing system? First, when legacy structures are weakened a host of marketing opportunities arise to serve a diverse array of consumer housing needs. We have shown that when regulators relax zoning requirements it creates opportunities for marketers—from serving urban millennials with micro apartments, to meeting the housing needs of aging baby boomers with ADUs or tiny houses, or fostering organic families through social media. As tactical urbanists, regulators, and marketers work together, at multiple levels in the system, a transformation of the housing marketing system will begin as beliefs, values, behaviors and practices co-evolve to ultimately build new marketing system institutions (Layton 2015).