To understand the permanent state of crisis in which Dallas finds itself, begin with a few frequently repeated questions. Why are Dallas streets so unattractive? Why is downtown perpetually struggling? Why is it so hard to maintain a new business in this city? Why is development sprawling ever farther north? Why is it so hot? Why do we have such persistent problems with inequality?
These questions can be addressed independently and with a myriad of reasonable explanations, but there is one relatively simple answer that covers them all: Parking.
And no, the problem isn’t that there isn’t enough of it, although there are those who will tell you as much. Don’t believe them. If your idea of a healthy city is one in which you can always drive up and park in front of your destination, then you’re living in a world of delusion. We’ve tried that here, and if you spend any time downtown, the evidence is pretty much indisputable. It doesn’t work.
But I’m not here to take away your parking. I would just like this city, with its “business first” ethos and conservative history, to live by its own principles and put an end to its absurd over-regulation of parking. That means eliminating the mandatory minimum parking requirements that are the irritating stone thrown into the urban design pond: Their ripples expand concentrically, disrupting the functional well-being of the entire city.
There is some hope. The city has launched an initiative to address the parking situation, but as you might expect from an entity with the rather frightening acronym ZOAC (that’s Zoning Ordinance Advisory Committee), the bureaucratese can be mind-numbing. At a recent online public forum, a committee representative announced that it would “eliminate parking minimums except in cases where it would not be appropriate to eliminate those minimums.” Thanks.
At the moment, Dallas thinks it’s appropriate to have parking requirements in virtually every case. City code specifies more than 180 different uses, each with its own minimum parking requirement. There are requirements for a bingo parlor (1 spot for every 50 square feet of space), a pawn shop (1 for every 200 square feet), a furniture repairer (1 for every 500 square feet), and a taxidermist (1 for every 600 square feet). If this has you thinking “heaven help me,” you’re on the right track, because there’s a whole section of the code devoted to church parking.
There are requirements that would look appropriate in a Joseph Heller novel. A 250-room-hotel must have 250 parking spaces but, because of a flawed incentive ladder, a 251-room-hotel can have 188 spaces. Of course, it’s reasonable to wonder why a hotel in the urban core should require any spaces — especially when most visitors come here by air.
When Dallas builds housing for the homeless, guess what — it needs to meet standard residential minimum parking codes. And that’s for people who can’t even afford homes, let alone cars. The city bureaucracy, tangled up in its own red tape, is intransigent in granting waivers. A request to reduce parking requirements for the Cottages at Hickory Crossing, a permanent supportive housing project directly adjacent to a public transit, was rejected.
A college must have one parking spot for every 25 square feet of space. For a classroom of 500 square feet, one needs 20 spaces — essentially a space per student, a ridiculously high number for a low-income cohort that is moving away from automobility.
The special cases are irritating, but the larger problem is the onus placed on the most common types of building: residential projects, offices and restaurants. Parking requirements jack up costs on these businesses, a burden that is especially difficult for smaller businesses with less capital. And then there’s the spatial component; real estate that might be otherwise used is turned over to car storage.
The results are punishing. Some businesses just don’t open. Others move to the suburbs, where the costs of supplying parking are far lower. This constitutes a self-imposed economic drain on the city, pushing its tax base outside of its limits. That means higher taxes on those of us who live and work here, along with diminished services. Hit hardest are minority residents, who are most likely to live in poorly maintained neighborhoods, and are forced into an expensive automotive existence chasing jobs moving ever-farther away.
Parking requirements make affordable housing even harder to build, because the margins are slim to begin with, and adding in parking — for people who don’t necessarily need or want it — can be a deal-breaker. That is no accident, either. Minimum parking requirements (and minimum lot-size requirements) have often been a tool to keep poor and minority populations out of neighborhoods. This is NIMBYism at its worst.
The economic and social costs are matched by aesthetic ones. Parking requirements encourage strip mall, parking-fronted development that is oriented to cars, rather than friendly streets designed for people. All those boring podium buildings you see? There would be fewer, and less intrusive ones, with the removal of requirements.
And that final point gets to the crux of the matter. What parking requirements do is create a city that privileges the use (and storage) of cars, that encourages driving not walking, and expands the (heat-capturing) sea of concrete. It is economically, environmentally and equitably unsustainable.
To its credit, ZOAC has put forward some positive proposals, the most important being the reduction or elimination of requirements in areas adjacent to public transit.
That is a start, but not enough. Except in rare cases, parking requirements should be eliminated altogether. The free market can determine just when and how many parking spots are necessary. The one requirement the city can adopt is that when citizens do park, they should pay for the privilege. Too many spaces in this city are left unmetered, or are metered at inadequate rates.
Dallas has been talking a big game in recent years about remaking itself as a more walkable, appealing, and equitable place. Any number of initiatives and plans have been put in place to achieve those goals, and that’s a good thing. But in city planning, success is determined by the fine print. Parking requirements are the terms of service that we accept without reading with every new digital application, because it seems like we have no choice.
With the installation of several new progressive members on the City Council, this is the moment where the city can actually change those terms. You get what your code encourages. It’s one thing to talk the talk, but Dallas needs to walk the walk, or it will never be pleasant to walk here at all.
