Susanna J. Sturgis   Martha's Vineyard writer and editor
writer editor born-again horse girl

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This Land Is Whose Land?

June 19, 2008

It only seems like everything I've written in the last two months is part of the puppalog. From time to time I contribute to other forums; I just haven't got around to re-posting my favorite stuff here. Here's one, and it's even island-related. Barbara Ehrenreich recently had a piece in The Nation about how the superrich are buying up the country's beautiful places and turning them into their own little fiefdoms. You don't say! I had no idea! Ehrenreich's article ended with a reference to Woody Guthrie's "This Land Is Your Land." That's where my piece started.

* * *

My favorite verse from Woody's song is never sung at school assemblies and uplifting chorus concerts -- at least I've never heard it, or sung it there either:

As I went walking, I saw a sign there
And on that sign it said "No Trespassing"
But on the other side it didn't say nothing
That side was made for you and me.

It's happening where I live, not far from Cape Cod, and here the superrich are getting significant help from local officials, who (I hope) mean well but are so short-sighted that they're giving away the farm. If you're lucky enough to live in a jurisdiction that includes beautiful places, take a look at property tax policy. In New England, property taxes often account for a larger share of municipal revenues than they do elsewhere. Property taxes are based on the market value of the property -- what you theoretically could sell it for even if you have no intention of selling, even if the property has been in your family for several generations. Superrich sharks with sky's-the-limit budgets grab a beautiful place or two for three or four or ten times more than anyone ever paid in that neighborhood, and presto! everyone else's assessed value -- and property tax -- goes up and up and up. Fighting the assessments takes time, money, and (usually) lawyers. The pressure to sell to one of those superrich sharks gets more and more intense, even if that's the last thing you ever wanted to do, and you're afraid you won't be able to look yourself in the mirror if you do it.

So slowly but inexorably the neighborhood, the area, the whole region changes. Local officials and many townspeople don't catch on till it's way too late. All along they've been seduced by the apparent short-term benefits: if the beautiful places are taxed out the wazoo, then taxes on the not-so-beautiful places can hold steady while the town spends whatever it wants.

Push does have this way of catching up with shove, however. Where I live, everyone's forever bleating about the environment -- water quality is a particularly important issue. So now we're routinely treated to little absurdities: the conservation commission can cite you for pruning a few bushes close to a wetland, and to build an ordinary house you have to jump through all sorts of hoops that are meant to promote responsible growth, but at the same time the beautiful, environmentally fragile places are passing into the hands of the superrich whose sense of stewardship is minimal to nonexistent, and who have the legal clout to beat any restrictions you put in their way.

The brilliant, brilliant thing about our market economy, which sets a price even on the priceless, is the way it seduces so many of us into working against our long-term interests. If you're fighting to hang on to your own home, how much energy do you have to spare for the beautiful places?

 

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