Decay

Now decay is a word freighted with such negative meaning as to cause anyone's soul to wither in contemplation. Nevertheless, decay has its purpose, rendering what once was consequential substance into unrecognizable matter and by nature's healing hands into the nurturing compost from which new life will arise. That pretty picture, however, is not so much the case when it applies to urban blight.

Today's decaying cities are too young yet to pass into moss covered ruins, burnished by centuries of weather revealing a glimpse of the life that once was in a long past age. I visited such a city yesterday, one whose name I will not reveal, not wishing to denigrate those who still live and work there. Assuredly it was winter, post Christmas and New Year, the sky was overcast lending an even gloomier aspect, and some shops were shuttered for a seasonal hiatus, but many more were simply closed, never to return. Evidence of the city that once was was still traceable even in its present state. Wide boulevards, brick sidewalks, victorian storefronts, a few imposing churches all the makings of a once charming community. But the flaking paint, dark and empty shop windows and dated signs suggested that this decline was a long time in the making.

There have been a few attempts over the years to resurrect this area, and I have visited on other days when the sun shone and the streets held more pedestrians; when it seemed a renaissance might be just around the corner. But sadly it has not happened and only a few new businesses, a bougie coffee shop and a health food market take their place next to seedy taverns, closeted restaurants and empty lots. Two long standing shops remained as welcome oases, outposts curated by shop keepers who have minded their businesses for decades. One owner who lives above a magnificent gallery that spans four storefronts is about to retire and while he says he will continue living in his charming home, the closure will be yet another loss to the community.

How does a community resurrect itself from such decay? The city of Detroit is an amazing example of people's determination to rebuild and restore, and it offers some important lessons at this particular time in history. Like Detroit, the city I visited is still intact. While there are a few vacant lots on its main boulevard most of its shops and buildings remain intact and as can be witnessed by the preservation of the few still open, the bones are good. What is more, the cost to buy or rent is ridiculously cheap. In other words the barriers to entry are very low for an enterprising businessperson. But what is missing is a critical mass, a collective will to not just survive but to thrive, one that will spark new growth.

I witnessed such a transformation in another city where I once lived and worked. The area was in a word seedy, and not only did it attract unsavory enterprises, it was unsafe to the point we walked our female staff to the transit station nearby in the dark Winter evenings. Shuttered storefronts and half demolished buildings were scattered everywhere. Today it is a vibrant commercial area with shopping, dining, art galleries, hotels and more. So what changed? A single enterprise opened--a sports arena- and attracted nightime visitors. In the beginning, those visitors came and left hurriedly finding nothing but unsavory surroundings when the event they had attended was over. But in a matter of months a handful of restaurants opened in old storefronts. As more people came and lingered after the games other businesses opened and soon no one felt uncomfortable walking the nearby streets. An art gallery or two decided to move in, followed by the transformation of an old public building into a chic hotel, and very sson after new residential construction began. In just a few years this decaying neighborhood became a nearly unrecognizable hive of new construction, refurbishment and a transformed community.

Researcher, Richard Florida has written extensively on the rise and fall of urban areas and the ingredients of successful communities. At the risk of doing him a disservice by over simplifying his body of work, I was struck by one of his observations. Among other factors, he suggests that thriving communities can always be found where the arts, education, as in universities, libraries and museums exist. He posits a creative class of writers, artists, students, and technologists who are attracted to and choose to live and work in such areas, fueling a demand for services and attractions. It might seem obvious but crucial that business follows the migration of people, and not the other way around. Larger and more successful enterprise follows once a community ignites the critical spark and the fears and obstacles to living in any town that appears in decay are overcome by those who can see beneath superficial ruin.

What does this say about our present direction. Science, the arts, public works, museums, and education are all under attack, defunded, demeaned, or reduced to cheap and tasteless glitz devoid of any integrity, intellectual or otherwise. Artists, writers, educators and scientists likewise are under attack, deprived of support, their work labelled 'woke' or simply cast into the void of disfavor. Books are banned, science is denied, replaced by quackery and shamanism. History is denied, its lessons lost on generations to come, and evidence of the past swept away as false narrative. We are witnessing the moving hand writing our future decay even as civilizations before us did and failed to halt what was to come.

It is my fervent hope the community I visited will one day rise again. What is needed is the vision and the courage to resist the plundering of our past, the denial of our achievements, and the willing ignorance of our decline. The future of this city is a bellwether of our country's path. Will it become yet another site of ruin and decay or rise from its metaphoric ashes? Only time will tell.