Death Of A City: The Portland Story?

How long does it take for a city to die? Downtowns across the country have emptied due to the pandemic, causing many stores and restaurants to close. Suburbs are doing much better, in many cases hardly touched by the recession. But in Portland, Oregon, continued violence and vandalism have combined with high housing costs, homelessness and poor community leadership to raise the question: how long before this city dies?

Portland has been doing well for years, and current problems are not certain to end the city’s life.

But without significant change, decline is certain. In many other cities, leaders stepped up to the challenge and saved their cities. That will probably happen in Portland, but there are few signs of change at this point.

Cities can die. Death can be sudden, as with Pompei, or gradual, as with the Mayan city of Tikal and the Jordanian city of Petra. The United States abounds with ghost towns in the mining country as well as communities left behind by economic change. Down the road from Portland are a number of mill towns that have emptied out.

Economists tell stories about the growth of cities, usually starting with trade. Most of our old cities are on the ocean or other waterways: New York, Boston, Philadelphia. Most of the not-so-old cities are also on trading locations: New Orleans, St. Louis, San Francisco. Railroads pushed some cities forward, such as Atlanta. Although moving cargo is still important, these cities are no longer dependent on being cargo terminals.

Other cities are built on natural resources, such as access to a rich fishery or forests or minerals. Denver and Spokane come to mind.

Once cities are established, though, they often become regional trading centers. The small towns scattered around the countryside need a larger city for access to specialized goods and services. As the nation grew, so did the cities. Cities are places where people can better connect with others offering more specialized products.

Adam Smith pointed out that the division of labor created great benefits but was limited by the size of the market: “A country carpenter deals in every sort of work that is made of wood ….. [He] is not only a carpenter, but a joiner, a cabinet maker, and even a carver in wood, as well as a wheel-wright, a plough-wright, a cart and waggon maker.” In a small city, however, the woodworker can specialize on one type of products, such as tables and chairs, becoming far more efficient through experience and specialization. In a larger city, another woodworker can make a living providing jigs and fixtures to the many table makers. These benefits of a large city accrue to the workers as well as the customers. Everyone is better off.

Thus cities start with a specific advantage but often grow in ways that are quite different from their original advantage.

Portland began as a place from which beaver pelts could be shipped to China, and then lumber to the California boom towns, eventually adding Oregon wheat to be shipped to Asia. Then cheap hydropower brought the aluminum industry to the region. As the city grew, however, it expanded in surprising ways. A local college student married a voltage meter to an early television screen, creating an oscilloscope and a company to make them. That company’s success in attracting engineers to the city led Intel to locate its largest facility in a Portland suburb. And a local boy ran track at the University of Oregon and founded Nike to make running shoes.

Today many cities have reasons for existence quite different from their origin stories. Shoes and computer chips can be designed anywhere—at least anywhere that good designers and engineers are willing to live. If Portland had to rely on its natural advantages of shipping, lumber, agriculture and fishing, it would be a few hundred thousand people, not two and a half million.

Given its starting point and past development, what could cause such a city to die? Walking the streets of Pompei one sees the effect of sudden catastrophe on a thriving city. Portland sits atop an active volcano field and in an earthquake zone. Neither are likely to kill the city, though the possibility exists.

Portland has already weathered losses to its traditional industries. Container ships seldom stop here anymore. Logging is less than half the volume as in the 1950s through 1970s, and lumber mill efficiency has reduced the labor needed by the industry even more.

The economic base that remains depends on people wanting to be here, to engineer and design goods and services that could be created most anywhere. People have come to the metropolitan area for the quality of life—close to mountains, beaches and deserts—but also because the city has been a vibrant, lively place, with theaters, restaurants, sports and even a few churches. Size begets size, in effect. Having been a major city, it grew more readily than if it had been a small town.

The question about the death of Portland becomes whether people will continue to want to move here. Inbound migration has been the dominant demographic feature.

Portlanders enjoy housing costs less than San Francisco or Seattle, but in a national comparison that doesn’t mean much. The metropolitan area ranks 11^th out of 60 major metropolitan areas. The state decided to limit urban sprawl many years ago, causing land values to be high. Much of the new construction, both single family and multifamily, is in-fill near the urban core. That has made construction costs much higher here than if new homes were built in the outer suburbs.

The quality of life has also suffered due to increased homelessness. A decade ago, one might see someone wrapped in blankets sleeping in a downtown doorway. Now the homeless have discovered inexpensive tents, some as cheap as $25 new. Tents provide a modicum of privacy and, in a group setting, a little bit of security. The police seldom try to move homeless campers. When the Portland Timbers entered Major League Soccer back in 2011, fans could walk the quarter-mile mile from downtown to the stadium without seeing any homeless people. Now the fans—if games had spectators—would pass several encampments on that short stretch.

The city’s dedication to high density urban housing at the expense of affordability shows no sign of changing. Well-paid engineers can afford the cost, but blue collar workers not so much.

Efforts to cope with homelessness primarily consist of spending millions on “affordable housing,” which paradoxically costs more to build than regular housing. That’s because union wages must be paid at affordable housing projects, but otherwise developers use much cheaper non-union workers. Some of the money earmarked for affordable housing buys existing apartment houses, making no net addition to the supply of residences. Few people here imagine that a spate of new construction in outlying farmland would make existing housing affordable through plain old supply and demand.

Riots emerged on top of expensive housing and homelessness. As in most large cities, peaceful protests grew out of the George Floyd killing. As in a number of cities, some of the protestors turned violent. What’s unique in Portland, though, is the continued violence. The antifa mobs regularly commit vandalism and occasionally commit arson on occupied buildings or assault reporters. Local journalist Andy Ngo, himself an antifa assault victim, regularly documents the Portland riots.

Was this the straw that will break the camel’s back? So far that’s unlikely but possible. For most area residents, the riots are merely a straw. Rioters occasionally move outside the central city into the suburbs, but not too often. Portland’s county, Multnomah, has a district attorney who declines to prosecute most riot-related arrests. The other counties in the metropolitan area, however, take a much harder line. Suburban police departments are less hamstrung than the Portland Police Bureau, which is understaffed due to retirements and quits. Portland police are closing out 911 calls without ever contacting those in distress, according to the Oregonian newspaper, but surrounding police departments are doing much better.

With the police struggling to handle the riots, shootings accelerated in 2020, running more than double 2019’s level. More neighborhood shootings and ignored 911 calls make all residents feel vulnerable. Despite this undercurrent, though, the overwhelming majority of residents go about their lives normally, or what passes for normally in a pandemic.

Reputation may be Portland’s greatest damage. Coverage by newspapers, television and current affairs podcasts has been extensive, both across the country and worldwide. This is critical given that the area’s growth comes from in-migrants, mostly from other states in the U.S. Real estate developers and investors have significantly downgraded their attitudes about Portland real estate.

Most cities that die felt economic change. Portland has done well in this regard. New industries rose, replacing the old industries, thanks to the migration of bright and well-educated young adults. Now, however, past policy to restrict housing has combined with lack of civic leadership to provoke further problems. Can one die from shooting oneself in the foot? Yes, if the wound goes untreated. Portland has shot itself in the foot. Most likely, the people of the city will come around and seek treatment. But if they don’t, the wound will prove fatal.

This post first appeared on Forbes.com. To see the original, click here.