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In Berkeley, the community is hard pressed to make its voice heard on development issues, despite a few recent successes. So I’m sorry to report that on June 10, good process took a baby step backward at the Zoning Adjustments Board (ZAB) Blood House hearing. But the improprieties were more subtle than usual, and perhaps arose as much from an atrophied understanding of public process as from bad intentions.  

In fact, it appears that ZAB is now inclined to kill the Blood House with a most expedient kindness, “rescuing” it from the shadow of a potentially damaging development on Durant and moving it to a more “suitable” location, where it won’t be in anyone’s way. Whether the Blood House, Durant Avenue, the new location, or the public would actually benefit from this move, I’ll leave to other writers, along with the daunting task of separating ZAB and the “developer-preservationists” from their rationalizations. 

On April 8, ZAB balked at demolishing the 1891 Blood House to make way for a five-story development project between two other two-story landmarked sites at 2526 Durant Ave. Although not fond of the Blood House, ZAB bowed to the historical resource protections of the California Environmental Quality Act (CEQA). The applicant was encouraged to return with a building plan that would preserve the Blood House on site, generally the preferred solution under CEQA.  

But the applicants didn’t like this alternative and apparently abandoned it. Instead, they decided to pursue another alternative: moving the Blood House and another Victorian to a small lot on Regent Street at Dwight Way. While a couple of the participants apparently believe this will improve our historic legacy, make no mistake about it: The new alternative will damage at least three (and maybe four) historic buildings and one streetscape on Southside—our common, irreplaceable cultural heritage—to further the immediate business interests of three developers and UC Berkeley.  

On June 10 the potential Blood House move was officially presented for the first time to both ZAB and the public, without any supporting details or paperwork for anyone’s review or response. The applicants and staff then asked ZAB to “signal” how it felt about the general idea of moving the Blood House. Since this is a departure from standard procedure, ZAB seemed slightly confused. But there was no confusion on the part of the staff. To encourage the developer to proceed, they needed a significant de facto action on an entirely new and vague project, but had to avoid a legal “action” that would require agendizing, public noticing, or a new application. And staff deftly guided ZAB toward this goal. But the reason it was wrong for ZAB to act formally at this meeting—i.e. questionable process—also made it wrong to act informally. No matter how you slice it, an important new action occurred without public notice or a meaningful hearing. 

To me this exemplifies just how atrophied our sense of public process has become in Berkeley. This is far from the worst thing the Planning Department has ever done; in fact, there is an appealing rationale for it. The Mayor’s Task Force on Permitting and Development had recommended “establish[ing] a formal pre-application process,” which would facilitate community discussion of, and provide early guidance for, “conceptual plans” through early interactive meetings with ZAB and all stakeholders. Here the applicant would find out if his idea was a non-starter with ZAB before he spent a lot of resources on it. Director Marks views this Blood House hearing as step toward this new process. But unfortunately, it was not ready for prime time. 

The reason is that no “formal process” has yet been thoughtfully developed to govern this early input, so the “signal” was given by the wrong body, at the wrong time, and without enough information. I think the “pre-application process” will work someday, but fair process cannot suddenly arise in a vacuum without addressing other existing dysfunctions in the system. Therefore—predictably—five persistent problems played themselves out on June 10. 

First, the “signal” was an inappropriate form of early decision making. Front-loading the process grossly disadvantages neighbors because of their inability to gather, understand, and present information like professionals. Nor are complex arguments quickly digested. If good process had been followed, historians and others who have thought deeply about siting in preservation would have had the chance to weigh in, educating all concerned. In addition, the Task Force envisioned ZAB giving direction in matters within their own purview such as height and density. In historic matters, ZAB follows the direction of the Landmarks Preservation Commission (LPC). Leapfrogging the matter to ZAB was inappropriate and removed the time and expertise necessary to thoroughly examine the issue. 

Second, ex parte speech limitations and the short speeches at public hearings both now prevent the meaningful discussion the Task Force envisioned. Why it is damaging to move historic buildings around is not readily apparent nor easy to explain in three-minute sound bites without dialogue. In fact, all unconventional, non-intuitive, and complex thoughts are disadvantaged by current procedures in this muzzled “Athens of the West.”  

Third, surely the task force hoped that informal interactive meetings would reduce the natural tendency for ZAB to favor their acquaintances in the development community, while viewing “those other people” as annoying party-poopers. On June 10, ZAB dialogued at length with the enthusiastic developers, but I was not permitted to respond briefly to even one point. After all, they had already heard 12 minutes from us! How much more could they endure? So in effect there was an informal workshop for the applicant, and a constrained formal “hearing” for the public. As long as these old habits are in place, new types of hearings will be a step backward, not forward, for fairness. 

Fourth, in the “formal process,” staff would not act as advocates for developers as they do now. But to pave the way for the largest possible building on Durant, the staff encouraged ZAB to approve the move alternative. They failed to point out that this proposal had had no public notice or previous discussion, instead placing it on equal footing with the other options that had been fully aired. The staff also glossed over the applicant’s failure to research the CEQA-preferred on-site option as earlier requested by ZAB.  

Finally, no procedures are in place to prevent early “buy-in” by ZAB. Now that ZAB has encouraged the applicant to expend resources exploring this option, how will it feel about turning it down six months from now? And psychological buy-in begins once people make a decision, no matter how many caveats they attach. 

But if I were the applicant, I would not take this “signal” to the bank. It is the Zoning Ordinance, the LPC, CEQA, and eventually the City Council that will decide whether Ruegg & Ellsworth will continue their 40-year cannibalization of Southside, not off-the-cuff opining from ZAB. As it is, the signal that this overeager and underinformed ZAB sent to observers was that our planning community still has a lot to learn—about both process and preservation. 

Sharon Hudson is a tenant in Berkeley’s Southside. 

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