I’d like to take a few moments to recognize some great things that are happening all around our community… we’re seeing very promising signs of true recovery. New businesses are coming to Kaua’i: Taco Del Mar, Sports Authority, Pier One, Ross, Safeway, Petco, Wall Greens, Jack in the Box, and guess what? Central Pacific Bank just opened a new branch in Kapa’a.-Mayor Bernard Carvalho Jr- State of the County Address, Monday March 17, 2014
The dust fences are gone, along with my memory of what Lihu'e used to look like without a Petco and Safeway. On Kaua'i’s forward march along the path of progress that new strip mall is forever part of the landscape. Cheap pet food from China and industrially grown Organic food from developing countries are now readily available in the heart of Lihu'e.
As Kaua'i’s fallow fields disappear under the momentum of endless development, and the warmth of the sun on red dirt is replaced by cold fluorescence on linoleum floors-- we are silencing the story of Hawai'i.
Wide sidewalks and bike paths are valiant attempts at
rectifying vehicle-centric zoning codes, but the only way to navigate the
concrete canals and asphalt fields of Lihu'e is by car. When we drive in our
climate controlled comfort wondering if Petco is having a grand opening sale,
it’s easy to miss the story being whispered by the last remaining agriculture
in the center of town.
If we were to get out of our cars and listen to the hum of insects in that sea of waving green cover crops, we would hear a tale of globalization, of the death throes of Hawaiian agriculture, and of the breeding technique that has ripped our community in half. While that story is still unfolding, the wind carries a deeper tragedy. Close your eyes, tune out the steady roar of the cars, and you may be able to pick up the haunting lament of auwe. From the Great Mahele in 1848 to the overthrow in 1893 to statehood in 1959—the tragic cry of the Hawaiian people as they are displaced grows faint in the distance of time.*
No matter what generation we’re part of, we all mourn for the Hawai'i of our childhoods. We dread the Hawai’i of our children’s future. And we vote for politicians who vow to “keep Kaua'i, Kaua'i” or those who can ensure that we “don’t become like Maui.” The same political rhetoric is replayed year after year.
Governor George Ariyoshi said in his State of the State Address in 1977:
If we were to get out of our cars and listen to the hum of insects in that sea of waving green cover crops, we would hear a tale of globalization, of the death throes of Hawaiian agriculture, and of the breeding technique that has ripped our community in half. While that story is still unfolding, the wind carries a deeper tragedy. Close your eyes, tune out the steady roar of the cars, and you may be able to pick up the haunting lament of auwe. From the Great Mahele in 1848 to the overthrow in 1893 to statehood in 1959—the tragic cry of the Hawaiian people as they are displaced grows faint in the distance of time.*
No matter what generation we’re part of, we all mourn for the Hawai'i of our childhoods. We dread the Hawai’i of our children’s future. And we vote for politicians who vow to “keep Kaua'i, Kaua'i” or those who can ensure that we “don’t become like Maui.” The same political rhetoric is replayed year after year.
Governor George Ariyoshi said in his State of the State Address in 1977:
Too many people means too few jobs and too much competition for them; too many people means too little land for agriculture and parks and scenic vistas; too many people means too much crime and too much erosion of possibly our single most important commodity, the Aloha Spirit; too many people means too much pressure on all our governmental and private institutions.
In short, too many people can spell disaster for this State.
Hawai’i is a national treasure, but it is a very fragile treasure, one which can be easily destroyed by over-population and excessive demands on its resources.
Thirty-eight years after that ground-breaking and insightful speech, and our islands are nearly unrecognizable from the Hawai'i of Ariyoshi’s governorship. On Kaua'i, our population is growing by 1% per year (the large majority of which are births). At this rate, we’ll have 190,000 residents in 2115 and 1.5 billion in 3015. Such is the power of compound growth. Obviously, Kaua'i does not have the natural resources to sustain either of those populations.
So, how do we control growth?
Governor Ariyoshi tried unsuccessfully in 1977 to push for one-year residency requirements for all state and local jobs (12% of workforce) which would make it more difficult to move to Hawai'i. His failure highlighted the most important aspect of growth management in Hawai’i: the “right to pursue happiness” guaranteed by the State of Hawai'i Constitution and the “right to travel” guaranteed by the 14th amendment of the US Constitution ensure that Hawai'i can not slow down population growth through residency requirements or restrictions. As long as we remain part of the United States, any U.S. citizen has the uninfringeable right to move here.
If people can always move here and people will always be born here, how else can we control development? While Hawai'i’s current strategy to reduce development depends on the complexity and bureaucratic friction of our unique dual state and local approval process, there are examples of counties who have successfully limited development for infrastructure and environmental reasons. When we bump up against the limits of our expansion (likely due to water shortage), the County of Kaua'i will have the legal precedent and authority to halt development.
But, local people are already getting priced out of living on Kaua'i—imagine the day when development is capped. It’ll take less than a generation for our island to become the exclusive home of the wealthy.
The county is relying on “smart growth” initiatives, with the goal of limiting sprawl and pacing development to delay that day of reckoning. But, it’s not enough. The population will continue to grow and the resource pie will continue to shrink until we reach the end of growth.
With the knowledge of the tragic displacement that a development cap will have on our local population, reducing inequality and improving social justice have to go hand in hand with smart growth policies and all aspects of environmental preservation.
For example:
How do we support the expansion of rooftop solar while ensuring that it doesn’t increase rates for those who can't afford the upfront cost of panels? How can we expand public transportation without the use of a regressive tax? How can we preserve open space without raising property taxes to fund acquisition? How can we balance the need for cheap food with sustainable farming practices? How can we slow development while providing affordable housing? In other words, how can we preserve the environment without placing the burden on those who can't afford it?
If you own land, have solar
panels, and aren’t affected by the daily price of fuel and electricity, then
it’s easy to overlook the social side of those questions in favor of the
environmental. That is the fatal privilege of environmentalism. Those who rally hardest, those who hold public office, those who are loudest on social media-- are all often buffered by the social effects of their decisions.
While we head towards an inevitable future of over population, changing climate, and resource depletion, the divide between the haves and the have-nots will continue to increase. As citizens, we have to temper our desire to preserve Kaua'i with an awareness of the privilege of environmentalism. We all need to seek solutions, but it’s important to be vigilant that the answers always support those on the lower end of the economic spectrum.
* There is one thing that sets Hawai’i apart from the rest of
our country: Native Hawaiians have a legitimate claim for sovereignty and
reparations for the theft of their land. Since we know that we’re heading
towards a future of limited resources and development restrictions, the only
way to ensure that the native people (defined by blood) don’t get priced
forever out of their own ancestral home is through supporting their efforts for
self-governance.
