PPS recently posted an excellent blog story (
here)
discussing the location of state DOT buildings and speculating what effect
those locations might have in shaping how DOT engineers think about
transportation problems. They used
the Walkscore methodology to rank all 50 buildings.
As it turned out, many state DOTs ranked badly in
walkability. Each building has its
own history, but I suspect many of the poor locational decisions were a result
of state highway engineers (at that time) wanting to be adjacent to a state
highway and to have a big footprint, in order to accommodate maintenance
facilities as well as offices.
Other state DOTs ended up in downtown state capital complexes and have
high scores.
The honor of worst walkability score goes to the Maryland
DOT, at 5. This is more than a
little ironic, because MDOT is one of the very best DOTs in terms of promoting
transit, bike/ped programs, multimodal planning, and linking transportation and
land use. And I can confirm from my
own experience that their headquarters is definitely isolated.
The best score goes to Massachusetts DOT (100!) for its
headquarters building in central Boston.
Their building not only has a terrific location for access to services
(which gets it the high score), it was specifically designed for neighborhood
revitalization, transit accessibility, mix of uses, and urban scale (see
architect Goody Clancy’s project summary
here). Interestingly, the Massachusetts Transportation Building was
in place well before there was a Massachusetts Department of
Transportation! I’m told that one
of the purposes of the building was in fact to encourage greater coordination
among the various transportation agencies in the state’s byzantine governmental
structure, which actually preceded statutory reorganization.
Anyone who has used the Walkscore methodology knows that it
gives only approximations of walkability and doesn’t tell the whole story. Two examples that I happen to know well
illustrate this point.
Connecticut DOT is scored as the 20th worst (63,
“somewhat walkable”) but is actually in a dreadful location. There are some shops within a half-mile
radius, but it would be a bold pedestrian from ConnDOT who would brave a walk
across the parking lots or landscaping (no sidewalks) and high-speed highways
(with no crosswalks) to get there.
(More on ConnDOT shortly.)
New Jersey DOT ranks lower than Connecticut (score 52) but
is actually much friendlier to pedestrians. The location is definitely suburban (therefore discouraging
collaboration with other agencies and contact with a broader array of
stakeholders) but the building is surrounded by a traditional neighborhood mix
of housing, shops, and offices on a decent grid of local streets.
Now I do support the author’s contention that building
design and location can affect how people think about the world (despite some
examples, like Maryland, that don’t work very well). As Winston Churchill said, “We shape our buildings, and
afterwards our buildings shape us.”
I also believe that states can and should use their real estate muscle
to leverage growth in desired locations and to model “good behavior.”