Corporate Philanthropy in the New Urban Economy:

 

 

The Role of Business-Nonprofit Realignment
in Regime Politics

 

by

Leonard Nevarez

Department of Sociology

Vassar College

 

Accepted for publication in Urban Affairs Review

November 2000

 

 

BUSINESS-NONPROFIT ADVOCACY COLLABORATIONS

 

On the whole, corporate philanthropy in the new urban economy indicates civic divisions within the urban business community; although tourism modestly aligns to the traditional civic arena, entertainment and software tend to direct their generosity and service to outsider nonprofits in, respectively, environmental groups and higher education. How does this divided business community and the increasing prominence of outsider nonprofits affect regime politics? I now examine new urban economy collaborations with environmental organizations and universities to advocate local policies and secure collective goods for these community nonprofits. I cannot assert a causal argument here, since certainly far more than civic relationships shapes local policy and politics. Still, these episodes at least suggest caution in inferring that a divided business community (alone) makes a difference for the thrust of urban politics.

 

Defending Quality of Life Amenities

In many ways, business coalitions with environmental groups lay the ground for subsequent philanthropy. Thus, for environmentalists, a primary issue is how to get the new business leaders initially interested in working with them. Heal The Bay's executive director described the problem:

 

To be honest, we're completely ignorant of how to really make that connection with the high-tech industries. That's not to say we don't get a check here and there, but from the standpoint of real regular support and involvement, say, even at the board level, to find someone in his or her 20s [who] has really made a mark at that point and could really help our organization understand technology and see how it can work for what we're doing, we haven't crossed that bridge; we haven't figured it out.
 

Software firms' local business structure is one factor that reduces the chances of interaction, albeit probably of an adversarial kind, with environmental groups, since most firms in the research sites are too small to buy their own properties (which could trigger land-use permitting and environmental impact reports) and have no regulated processes or substances. Consequently, most environmentalists believe that the most persuasive appeal they can make to these companies lies in the local context for industry growth: the quality of life. However, the degree to which this latent interest mobilizes corporate collaboration varies by sector.

Tourism appears most ready to join environmentalists on issues of industry-wide interest, since it depends on the natural and aesthetic amenities that local environmentalists seek to preserve. Thus, many tourism firms have endorsed various environmentalist efforts, at least informally. In Santa Monica, tourism firms and organizations supported lobbying by Heal The Bay and other environmental groups to require regional businesses to obtain "stormwater permits" as part of urban runoff and sewage reduction programs. In Santa Barbara and San Luis Obispo, both individual firms and tourism organizations regularly endorse environmentalists' efforts to restrict offshore and coastal oil and gas drilling. The campaign manager for an anti-coastal oil drilling initiative informed me that "all the local chambers of commerce opposed [our initiative]. The Santa Barbara Lodging Association was a crucial endorsement to balance the influence that the chambers had." Many San Luis Obispo hoteliers and other businesspeople dependent on visitors added their voices to local protests against "big box" retail stores and a 650-room resort/golf course, fearing that such projects would mar the coastal and pastoral drives that (many feel) favorably distinguishes the area from more urbanized areas. However, industry-wide coalitions usually break down around protests of individual development projects. As ECOSLO's director explained:

 

[On land-use issues in general, tourism endorsement] is pretty much a NIMBY thing. So, if they're talking about a development on the beach in south county, you may have some hotels that fight it for competition reasons, but not for the principles of land use or sustainable resource management kinds of things.... In general, the tourism industry, I have found... is pretty much progrowth, prodevelopment, pro-large resorts, pro-large golf courses, pro pretty much anything that will attract lots of visitors, without a lot of discretion.
 

Environmental issues are less galvanizing for software. Individual firms and industry leaders may support efforts to protect the local environmental quality, but with even less unanimity than their tourism counterparts. Consequently, many residents in the quality of life-conscious research sites have discerned an apparent paradox in software firms' reticence. In Santa Barbara, for instance, new and growing high-tech firms claim they value the local quality of life and can enhance it as a clean industry that pays higher than average wages. A Santa Barbara software trade association's marketing materials are fairly typical: "[We are] developing a path where the quality of life and economic vitality of the region operate together, rather than in opposition." However, some locals argue that software firms' growth speaks more loudly than their "commitments" to community well being, particularly given their weak philanthropy to environmental organizations. These perceptions threaten the acceptability of software growth; in at least one public hearing, community activists were heard to shout, "We don't need more high-tech growth&endash;let 'em go away!"

Amidst this controversy, some software leaders have looked for opportunities to demonstrate their industry's good will. One example is Santa Barbara's recent "Community Indicators" project, which (in contrast to tourism) represented the industry's only major collaboration with environmentalists. Designed to help local decision-makers incorporate and monitor local quality of life concerns during regional and project planning, the project follows a model used by a number of other cities. First, input is solicited from citizens, businesses, and community leaders to identify "indicators" of the region's social and environmental quality, from grade school lunch program participation to indigenous bird species counts. Then, a steering committee of public and private representatives operationalizes these indicators (in addition to more common indicators of economic vitality) and oversees data gathering.

By not regulating the business or growth of any firms, the project offered a palatable form of business support for a largely symbolic environmental effort that entails little economic sacrifice. The origins of the Community Indicators project, however, reveal the software industry's concerns about maintaining its political legitimacy in a community perennially concerned about its quality of life. The executive director of Santa Barbara's Community Environmental Council's took advantage of this growing legitimacy crisis through his honorary seat on the local software trade association's "leadership group":

 

One of the things I've been doing is really haranguing them and saying, "You know, you guys keep talking quality of life&endash;what do you mean? Define yourself?" And they give me, "I don't know how." And here, here's the Indicators program; this is what it's about. It's about defining the quality of life, sustainability, community, whatever. It's a broader measurement of the standard of living; if the standard of living goes up, everything is good. And I had a number of conversations&endash;well, one in particular&endash;with [the trade association's founder] saying, "This is a step in this process, and you guys really need to be doing it as part of the [trade association], because you're saying that economic development supports quality of life, but you're not saying what that means. And so no one's going to trust you."
 

Thereafter, the local software organization became instrumental in implementing the Community Indicators project: serving on the project's steering committee and trustees, helping to secure grant funding for the project, obtaining an economist to conduct the research, and soliciting business support for the project's mission.

Did software-environmentalist collaboration around this symbolic effort lay the foundation for effective policy advocacy? After the Community Indicators project, a few environmental leaders agreed to endorse higher land-use densities for software and other targeted industrial and commercial sectors than local growth control ordinances previously allowed. In return, the leading local software trade association committed to preserving the antisprawl intent of local growth controls by strengthening urban limit lines and discouraging high-tech campus development along the coastline. The only notable policy collaboration after the Community Indicators project, the new land-use consensus failed to later local land-use policy for at least two reasons, including a lack of broader political momentum to make prior changes on additional policies unrelated to high-tech growth. However, this lack underscores the second and, for my purposes, more germane factor; the unprecedented coalition between several software and environmental leaders proved controversial enough to threaten disunity among the larger business and environmental communities. Among the business community, some developers quickly supported the new land-use principles, yet others expressed resentment that these "unfair" policy changes would violate the ethos of investor prerogative and promote certain developments at the expense of other kinds. On the environmental side, the new land-use consensus (inspired, according to its advocates, by New Urbanism) alienated many slow growth activists. Subsequently, environmental leaders backed off from their policy collaboration with the software industry; as one of them told me, "Seeking new allies [among software firms] is fine, but if it comes at the expense of old allies, that's a problem."

 

Briding the Campus/Private Industry Gap

Business collaborations with higher educational institutions produce more familiar policy goals, albeit with important consequences for the traditional urban business community. Consider, for example, this statement from UCSB College of Engineering's 1996-97 Annual Report of Private Giving:

 

The College is dedicated to building a solid high-technology community on the South Coast. The synergy between the community and the College is reflected in the critical role it has played in the development of [two local software organizations]; the existence of over 25 local companies founded by College alums or faculty; its proactive outreach into primary and secondary schools; and the tremendous talent pool and intellectual capital made available to the community.
 

As this suggests, local universities and other educational institutions seek a stronger role in supporting the institutional infrastructure and even the private fortunes of local high-technology firms in technology sectors (see also Powell and Owen-Smith 1998; Massey, Quintas, and Wield 1992). To the extent their goal entails supporting physical expansion for their own or local companies' facilities, some university administrators may privately express frustration with the "xenophobia" (a university administrator's private remark at a local high-tech trade association event) of local land-use policy. More generally, university administrators delicately engage the dominant progressive regimes. The dean of engineering at California Polytechnic University's San Luis Obispo campus (Cal Poly) explained to me one reason; in embryonic software districts like San Luis Obispo, where firms seek any boost they can get, "the industry is so fragile that it has to endear itself to both sides." To this end, university administrators demonstrate their "nonpartisan" perspective by avoiding taking sides in local politics. UCSB's dean of engineering, for example, declined to endorse the campaign of a personal friend, the area's Republican state assemblyman: "I don't think he was happy with me on that point, but I felt that was important." Just as importantly, although they are quick to publicize the benefits of university-related policy for local business and residents, university administrators refrain from enlisting the traditional urban business community's activism. Instead, they frame their policy goals to invoke new sectors like software or tourism with more political favor as potentially "clean" industries and new sources of "jobs for our kids."

Cal Poly's recent real estate developments illustrate this enlistment. Many of my San Luis Obispo software informants have been involved in research collaborations with the university; virtually all the rest support "bridging the campus/private industry gap" (the topic of a local high-tech forum). Yet until lately, the campus did not combine civic and economic roles; town and gown relations were somewhat chilly, especially with the traditional urban business community. As a university administrator told me,

 

We existed in our own little island here and didn't pay any attention to what was going on. We didn't have to, because all of our money came from outside, all our support came from outside, and we sent our projects back outside. So we didn't do a very good job of letting the locals know what we were producing, and we're trying to turn that around now.6
 

Recently, Cal Poly stepped up its civic presence with two major additions to the local "amenity infrastructure" (Hendon and Shaw 1987, 215) that, in the process, has made the university perhaps the slow growth city's most successful large-scale developer. In 1996, the campus and city jointly funded construction of a $30 million, 1200-capacity campus performing arts center that many believe will upgrade the caliber of culture and entertainment for locals and visitors alike. Although the center's long-term fiscal benefits remain to be seen, tourism leaders and other local boosters have already deemed it a success and anticipate construction of a university sports complex.

Cal Poly also revived a perennial high-tech research park proposal. Local high-tech firms had long hoped a university-sponsored project would have the political "juice" to galvanize support from the city, which rejected three prior proposals due to potential growth impacts. To this end, Cal Poly obtained the services of the Bechtel Infrastructure Corporation, the internationally prominent engineering and construction firm, to conduct a feasibility study and lend credibility to the proposal (Bechtel formerly employed the university administrator appointed to oversee the study). The study eventually disappointed local boosters and reassured many growth opponents when it concluded, "A research park based on a large real estate development is not an appropriate model for San Luis Obispo" (Bechtel Infrastructure Corporation 1998, n.p.). As of this writing, the university-sponsored research park task force is investigating ways to establish incubator facilities using existing infrastructure, in what some call a "virtual park." In whatever its eventual form, the research park proposal's fate shows how Cal Poly adds tremendous weight to the city's modest software industry, whose political, economic, and organizational resources pale in comparison. Even the chamber did not let members' frustrations with Cal Poly overshadow its stakes in the R&D park; it coauthored a city study investigating the quality of the local technological infrastructure for the R&D park and local high-tech industry. However, the chamber hardly represented the largest beneficiaries of a new R&D park, and its resources arguably added little to the proposal's momentum.

 

 

NOTES

 

6. Another source of business-university conflict has been Cal Poly's for-profit business ventures. Cal Poly's president recently closed a university-backed marketing firm only three months after it formed, when the chamber of commerce and other San Luis Obispo businesses (including Cal Poly contributors) protested its public sector competition. For reasons such as this, only 15% of San Luis Obispo chamber members agreed with a recent survey statement, "I believe we can trust Cal Poly to do what's in the best interest of our community" (reported in Jones 1997). Back to text.

 

 

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