How Can Villaraigosa Succeed?

Immediately after his landslide victory, more than a few editorials wondered if Los Angeles Mayor-elect Antonio Villaraigosa would inevitably govern in accordance with the new, Chablis-liberal ideology that has infected so many of our nation's cities. Antonio Villaraigosa is garnering attention across the nation. But he'll find that Los Angeles' problems are unique.

I prefer to think that he will use his mandate to accomplish something that none of the overhyped "models" of urban revival have been able to achieve. Unlike the mayors of supposedly hip, high-tech Boston, San Francisco, or even Pittsburgh, Villaraigosa cannot hope to lead Los Angeles forward unless he builds a city that works as well for the working and middle classes as it does for cocktail-party progressives.

Villaraigosa takes charge at a particularly bizarre moment in U.S. urban history. Despite their overwhelmingly blue-state politics, many cities have openly abandoned any interest in retaining or growing "old economy" industrial and middle income jobs. Beguiled by the promise of attracting the next Bill Gates -- and windfall tax revenues - they focus almost exclusively on appeasing affluent, educated classes by building fashionable arts and chi-chi retail complexes, retro-chic sports facilities, and subsidized, manicured research parks. In the process, factories and small businesses that are already reeling from intense global competition have been regulated and priced into oblivion.

There are several reasons why this odd form of trickle-down economics has captivated American mayors. Industrial and middle class pursuits are messy and aesthetically unappealing. Replacing them with top-drawer concert halls or pricey ballparks is something any politician can support. The beneficiaries of the new "creative class" urban development, including computer and entertainment executives, lavish money and positive press on those who cater to their interests. And many cities happily discovered that abandoning broad-based growth policies tended to restrict development and boost property values. Buildings and houses seemed to ooze new wealth as if by magic.

Given these trends, it's no wonder that today's urban leaders yearn for the adoring treatment afforded San Francisco's Gavin Newsom, Pittsburgh's Tom Murphy or Boston's Thomas Menino. None has successfully diversified his city's employment base, created a single net new job since taking office, or tangibly upgraded urban schools. But by embracing such elite progressive concerns as costly historic district renovations or gay marriage, they have been hailed as the very epitome of an enlightened 21st century mayor.

The problem, however, is that Chablis-liberalism can flourish only in special areas with unique demographics. The dirty secret of America's most ballyhooed cities is that they can afford to ignore the working and middle class because they increasingly resemble exclusive Malibu more than America's diverse, hardscrabble towns like McAllen, Texas.

Few realize, for example, that Boston and Pittsburgh are among the most socially monotonic, affluent areas of the country. Their metropolitan populations are an astonishing 83% to 90% white, compared with just 31% of greater Los Angeles. Three-quarters of San Francisco is either white or Asian, the highest income groups in the country, and more than 40% of Bay Area households earn at least $75,000 per year, double the national average. In contrast, 60% of the Los Angeles metropolitan area is Latino and black, the nation's least wealthy demographic groups. Over 30% of L.A.'s residents aged 25 or older have less than high school educations, one of the highest proportions in the nation and twice the rate in places like San Francisco.

It would be great news indeed if San Francisco, Boston or Pittsburgh demographics reflected widespread upward mobility. But their affluence clearly results more from working- and middle-class attrition than expanded opportunity. Each city lost population during 2001-2003 while the average U.S. urban community grew by over 2%, and Los Angeles expanded by 3.4%, adding more than 125,000 residents. Since 2001, San Francisco, Boston and Pittsburgh have lost nearly 300,000 jobs and still have the weakest economies in the country. Even during the 1990-2000 boom, San Francisco's black population fell by nearly 25%, one of the largest declines in America, and its Latino population growth was just half the average rate for California.

In short, America's celebrated, boutique cities depopulated and disenfranchised themselves into an illusion of urban success, much like what would happen if L.A. suddenly rid itself of everything but Brentwood and Hancock Park. Given these realities, why would Villaraigosa want to emulate urban policies that could only dispossess his core political constituencies and alienate much of the region's younger, aspiring work force?

I think he won't. Yet, defining an urban growth strategy in today's economy is hardly a simple task. Although regulations and taxes unquestionably hurt L.A.'s manufacturing employment, for example, Chinese competition is probably a bigger problem than the City Council. What exactly can Villaraigosa do to foster working and middle class prosperity?

The answer, I believe, is to leverage the city's existing assets, such as its mammoth sea and air ports and unique resource protection programs, to stimulate new industries and local investment. Urban renaissance projects can also be redirected to better unite generally isolated communities, such as East Los Angeles and the commuter-dominated Downtown Los Angeles, and generate economic opportunities. We'll explore these strategies in detail over the next few weeks.