The classic image of a preservationist is something like this: earnest dreamer stands stiff-legged and flinty-eyed in front of irreplaceable community gem holding a sign demanding gem’s protection. Backhoes and wrecking balls may or may not be in the picture, but either or both are implied, or on their way. In this universe, developers represent the unfeeling hand of capitalism squashing community character and soul.

Many preservationists have learned, however, that assuming a black-and-white view of developers and development often works against their goals. Before federal law and city ordinance required review of potentially historic properties, uncompromising, sometimes militant efforts were absolutely necessary. The rush of passion linked to protest helped the movement sustain itself in the early days when the road was hard, and friends were relatively few.

But as historic preservation has been absorbed into project review, and adaptive reuse has become relatively conventional in this country, some preservation advocates have been revamping their approach and image, oftentimes substituting suits for signs, and using facts and figures to communicate with developers and development-minded property owners in a common fiscal language.1

The Federal Case
In the beginning of the movement, however, The Cause was the case. Recognition of the unquantifiable but nonetheless significant value of preserving the best of our past spurred the 1966 Historic Preservation Act and the National Register of Historic Places, and stimulated a number of regulations governing the protection and stewardship of historic resources.

This restriction of property rights (The Stick) was soon followed by financial incentives (The Carrot), which generally came in the form of tax breaks.

In 1976, the federal government began its tax incentive program for historic preservation activity. This was ramped up in 1986 with the Tax Reform Act that allowed a 20% tax deduction on the cost of rehabilitating income-earning properties. The program, coupled with a set of standards governing the rehabili-tations qualifying for the incentive, uses tax benefits as a carrot for historic sensitivity. Many local governments followed suite and created tax incentive programs dovetailing with the requirements and benefits of the federal program.

The State Case
In 1985, the Washington State Legislature passed a law allowing a “special” valuation--or frozen property tax levels--for ten years after approved improvements to landmark properties have been made.

In some cases, the financial benefits of this program can be tremendous. If, for instance, the property in question was a church, which is tax exempt, the buyer and developer of the church property would not pay taxes for ten years if the rehabilitation of the building complied with federal guidelines, and project costs exceeded 25% of the property’s initial value.

This program becomes an excellent selling point when negotiating with property owners of buildings who currently pay very little in taxes, or who have properties in significant disrepair located in neighborhoods zoned at moderate to low density.

The Special Case
Easements, yet another tax incentive, are voluntary arrangements between an owner of a property and a preservation-oriented nonprofit or governmental entity in which the owner gives up development rights for an initial federal income tax deduction equal to the value of the easement, and may benefit from a reduced estate, and lower local property taxes. An independent appraiser evaluates the value of the property; this developable value above the value of the extant historic property is considered a donation, and taxes are deducted accordingly.

The easement, whether it controls alterations to a historic fa�ade or to historic interiors or a historic landscape feature, requires that the easement holder (the nonprofit or governmental entity) maintain the property’s historic character, as laid out in the easement language, in perpetuity. This entity also has the right to nix plans for the property that do not preserve its historic character.

Historic preservation organizations like Historic Seattle hold easements on landmark properties. Some organizations have very active easement programs. The work of maintaining an easement program, especially an extensive one, is time consuming. And forever is a very, very long time. Some easement programs have proven to be an economic drain on the organizations that hold and administer them.

The Local Case
Nonetheless, easements, other tax benefits, and a small number of grants-in-aid have been the primary incentives used to coax wary developers away from demolition and new construction. Newer incentives fold preservation into real estate development in ways that affect the size and shape of the surrounding urban context (historic and non-historic). These incentives and related discussions about incorporating the past into new development tend to revolve around economic feasibility. The historic significance of a given property is a factor, but ultimately, if adapting a historic building into new plans is not economically feasible, the property’s preservation is unlikely if maximum profits are the priority. This is especially true in dense urban areas like Seattle’s downtown core.

The Transfer of Development Rights (TDR) program in Seattle technically provides incentives for preservation by trading additional height for contribution to community amenities including preservation. Recently, Seattle’s IDX Tower received these benefits in partnership with the YMCA, which is both a landmark and provides affordable housing. In spite of the benefits, the program has been used relatively infrequently in conjunction with preservation activity downtown.

Places like Pike Place Market, that hook into a city’s soul can (and did) withstand development opportunity and emerge protected and funded because Seattle cares about them. It was incon-ceivable for Seattle to lose the Market, whether or not it maxed out the building envelope or generated maximum revenue.

Recently, the Market commissioned a study of its economic benefits to the city in preparation for a $45 million capital campaign. While the study’s findings were interesting, its conclusions merely quantify the benefits most of us understand intuitively. It’s good to know the Market provides steady revenue, but ultimately, Seattle will support the Market because we love it.

The Good Case
Generally however, in a location like downtown Seattle, relatively few sacred cows transcend the development potential of the land under the building. How does a preservationist argue that a building’s historic significance is more important than the property owner’s right to maximize the development potential of a downtown site? The question is rhetorical. They don’t. Such an assertion goes nowhere, or is likely to.

Ken Alhadeff rehabilitated the Coliseum Theater at Fifth and Pike and in spite of its tremendous development potential. Why? Because preserving the building evidenced his personal ethics and preserved his family’s legacy. They were the original developers.

The Rainier Club, an organization comprised of many property rights advocates, gave up carte blanche development activity on their site and submitted to landmark regulation. Why? Because the building is meaningful to their organizational identity and attracts members interested in social environments linked to an authentic past. The Rainier Club wouldn’t be the Rainier Club without its building.

Even with incentives and economic analyses that prove the benefits of preservation within communities, the single most compelling reason property owners will willingly give up some of their rights has more to do with personal passions and private motivations than anything else. No manner of carrots will sway developers who simply prefer big bags of oats.

Preservationists who come out of the woodwork solely to waggle fingers when tragedy strikes only undermine the value of preservation in the hearts and minds of those we most need to engage. Preservationists will forever be mistaken for obstructionists if we rely solely on regulation, and fail to tap the passion of the community, which includes developers.

Most of all, preservationists should celebrate loudly when good things happen to good buildings.