Copy the peacemakers instead of the haters

A key to unlocking abundant housing for rural, suburban, and urban Americans is a commitment to finding common ground with perceived enemies.

It’s exciting to see the YIMBY (Yes In My Backyard) movement pick up steam over the last several months. Talking about the ways in which local land use regulations limits or prohibits housing is becoming mainstream and bipartisan. 

The “Montana Miracle” made a big splash in the news last year as enough Democrats and Republicans in that state agreed duplexes and accessory dwelling units should be legalized. And they got right back in the news cycle in January 2024, when a judge stopped the new law from being implemented, declaring that if Montana had abundant housing, it would do irreparable damage to single-family home owners. 

Last week, North Dakota’s Governor Doug Burgum went viral during the National Governors Association annual meeting. He used clear and plain language to describe how local governments created zoning rules that ended up ruining so many American cities. The context was housing affordability, and it was the sort of monologue you’d expect to hear at a Congress for the New Urbanism event or on podcasts like Active Towns or Strong Towns. 

His quote that jumped out to me was “We’ve got to get the coffee shops, the barber shops, the law firms back into residential neighborhoods.” Some YIMBYs agreed with my enthusiasm about a politician talking smartly about land use.

But what stood out to many urbanists was that Burnum’s political tribe was different from their own. They came out swinging against housing advocates who shared, let alone cheered Burgum.

“There’s absolutely no room in the urbanist movement for conservatives.”

The anonymous rustbeltcityenjoyer was one of many posters wailing and gnashing their teeth over a perceived enemy saying things they agreed with. That’s a typical human reaction, of course. But what’s so disappointing is the large number of land use reform advocates insisting that they don’t want their political opponents to have any part of the YIMBY movement. In other words, let “those people” suffer. Abundant housing is only for my tribe who agrees to this long list of social and economic policy platforms.

Here’s one of my responses to that.

Here’s a comment from my friends at Bike Delaware.

Shared interests abound when you look for them. Even if it feels painful to team up with a political opponent, it can be strategically advantageous. At a minimum, it’s good for the movement to point out that zoning harms people from all walks of life, even residents of rural North Dakota. 

I wonder if history has any examples of people talking with each other, human to human, to resolve a conflict in spite of extreme cultural, social, economic, or political differences. I wonder if there’s anything to learn from peacemakers.

The brouhaha reminded me of Daryl Davis, author of "Klan-destine Relationships: A Black Man's Odyssey in the Ku Klux Klan." Davis played piano for Chuck Berry, BB King, and other stars. In the late 80s, he started touring with a country band. He was approached by a white man who, after praising his performance, revealed he was a member of the KKK. The guy admitted he’d never even talked with a black man before, let alone admired something he did.

Source: daryldavis.com

Davis had grown up traveling with his parents all over the world in the 50s and 60s, always surrounded by people with different skin colors. He couldn’t wrap his mind around racism because he hadn’t personally experienced it. So his curiosity was sparked that night in the club, wondering how on earth someone who knew nothing about him, except the color of his skin, could hold such deep-seated animosity.

He started a book project, and figured the best way to learn about haters was to talk one-on-one with his haters. He invited KKK members to meet him at restaurants, in their homes, or wherever they felt comfortable, ready to listen and ask questions. He didn’t try to belittle them or even shame them for their group’s horrific acts. Davis was positive he could find at least slivers of common ground. Listening…think about that for a second. Daryl Davis might not have grown up around racism, but he knew exactly what white supremacist groups were capable of, in and out of white robes and hoods.

Imagine sitting across from someone who thinks you're only partially human without treating them as subhuman because of their repulsive beliefs. Not only that, but to approach conversations with empathy and curiosity. The results of his work are wild. Davis has led hundreds of people to renounce affiliations with white supremacist groups. It doesn’t happen overnight, but it keeps happening. 

I doubt most of us are wired like Daryl Davis. But don't fool yourself into thinking the only antidote for hate is more hate. Read his book, watch his TED talks, listen to his interviews, listen to his podcast, follow him on social media, or watch his documentary. The guy has lived an incredible life, and has much to offer anyone arguing about anything.

Now that your mind is spinning over Davis, think back to the smack talk by housing advocates who are mad that not all housing advocates look, sound, or think like them. I know very little about Governor Burgum. But if he holds policy positions that you loathe, consider this: he is unapologetic about his desire for walkable, mixed-use neighborhoods and affordable places to live in those neighborhoods. Burgum knows his constituents don’t want their cities and towns to sprawl into something that resembles Los Angeles, even though that’s exactly the model for their land use regulations.

Members of the YIMBY movement will continue to persuade Americans to support zoning reform and other regulatory obstacles as long as they don’t require some sort of policy pledge on 35 other issues. I sure hope more people take a break from the intense tribal combat so they can see the advantages of shared interests. Obstacles between two radically different people don’t have to be insurmountable. 

A key to unlocking abundant housing for rural, suburban, and urban Americans is a commitment to finding common ground with perceived enemies.