The Death of Seattle

By Dale Kutzera

SOMETHING IS WRONG IN SEATTLE. We can feel it in our bones. The city we knew has changed in ways both bewildering and hostile. The remarkable prosperity of a tech-based economy has brought with it crime, homelessness, and a higher-cost, lower-quality of life. Just what happened to Seattle? Through extensive research, Dale Kutzera charts Seattle's path from livable town to hostile city...a troubling destiny faced by many aspiring tech-centers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Salmon Bay Books
• Release date: Dec 9, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393365204

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The Death of Seattle: How a Great Town Became a Lousy City

Copyright © 2019 by Dale Kutzera. All rights reserved.

Published by Salmon Bay Books.  

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews.

In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the author constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the author at www.DaleKutzera.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

www.DaleKutzera.com

Contents

Introduction 

Part I: Population

Part II: The Cost of Density

Part III: The Quality of Life

Part IV: Can Anything Be Done?

Part V: The Eulogy

About the Author

Introduction

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It must have been a great place to live.

Picture a member of the Duwamish tribe walking on the shore of Puget Sound, the gentle surf lapping over water-worn pebbles. Across the sparkling bay rise tree-covered islands, and beyond them a jagged wall of distant mountains. On clear days, blue skies frame the great mountain to the southwest. Even when clouds and rain (rarely snow) spread across the region, the bounty of the forests, lakes, and rivers is wondrous. Temperatures are moderate year-round, great trees provide shade and shelter, seafood and game are plentiful, and waterways offer a convenient means of trade between tribes.

People first discovered this inland sea after the last ice age carved it into existence. They formed tribes that grew, prospered, and splintered into other tribes that found their own place to call home among the islands, rivers, and valleys. Apart from the rare Japanese fishing boat blown across the Pacific, the outside world rarely intruded upon these people. Conflicts with tribes to the north and east were rare blemishes on an otherwise blessed existence.

The first sight of a European sailing ship must have been a shock. The vessels, so much larger than native dug-out canoes, were the first of many wonders brought by newcomers through the 19th century. Mirrors, glass, metalwork, and other trade goods were exchanged for beaver and otter pelts. For generations the trade benefited both sides. Metal tools allowed the tribes to create art of great complexity and sophistication.

Perhaps our Duwamish friend was searching for a fallen tree to carve into the center-post of a longhouse when he saw the first outsiders on horse-drawn wagons. The Duwamish had little use for horses or wagons, or for that matter wheels. The water was their highway.

Unlike the European traders visiting by ship, these newcomers had no intention of leaving. They cut down trees, made cabins, and planted crops. But mostly they cut down trees, radically transforming the landscape. The landmarks the Duwamish used as way-finders were erased. Old trails were widened into roads. Old names were replaced with unfamiliar words. Traditional fishing and gathering sites were transformed into farms, towns, and cities.

The changes must have struck the native peoples with a mix of bewilderment and concern. Perhaps they believed things would eventually go back to how they had been, familiar and recognizable. But instead, the changes grew in scale and speed. Harbors were dredged. Meandering rivers straightened. Entire hills sluiced flat, the dirt used to bury tidal beds of clams, mussels, and oysters. There must have been a moment when a deep sadness settled over the Duwamish as they realized there would be no going back. The future was uncertain, but the familiar past was gone forever.

This is the state in which much of Seattle now finds itself. No city has gone from hospitable to hostile faster than Seattle. In the decade since the Great Recession of 2008, the population has grown by 150,000 (25%), the cost of living has doubled, crime has gone through the roof, and traffic has become a blood sport.

Only war can change a city faster.

These striking changes in urban living are not unique to Seattle. They are happening in every region reshaped by the tech economy. San Francisco, Boston, New York, Austin, and Silicon Valley changed over a period of generations while Seattle’s transformation has happened in less than a decade.

Seattle’s best of times/worst of times problems are the envy of many cities still recovering from the Great Recession. Yes, the cost of living has risen in Seattle, but unemployment is paltry and opportunities abound. The city boasts fine dining, world-class entertainment, and is home to some of the most dynamic companies on the planet. The population remains well-read and highly educated. Detroit, St. Louis, or Memphis would gladly stand in the path of this growth bullet. But all these urban delights existed decades ago when the average college grad could buy a house for a smaller slice of their income than today’s graduates spend on a studio apartment.

The result is a tale of two cities: Old Seattle and New Seattle. The population of Old Seattle tends to be older, whiter, and land-rich even if income poor. The citizens of New Seattle tend to be younger, multi-cultural, with high incomes but little hope of home-ownership. How one city vanquished the other and the impacts of that death are the topics of this book. Part One presents an overview of the region’s population and demographics. Part Two studies the cost of density on the built environment as Old Seattle falls the wrecking ball.

The transformation from Old Seattle to New involves more than population and architecture. The very psyche of long-time residents has been abused into submission as the city morphs into something strange and mean. Our home is no longer recognizable. The stores where we shopped have gone out of business. The restaurants where we dined have been replaced. Buildings that served as geographic markers have been torn down. Views of hills and water are increasingly blocked so that even the natural wonders of the region—Lake Washington, Puget Sound, the Olympic Mountains, Mount Rainier—are no longer readily accessible orientations. And we are lost inside as the common moorings of our society have been cut. Part III examines this diminishing quality of life and Part IV discusses what might be done about it, with some radical ideas thrown on the table for consideration.

I wrap up the book with a eulogy for Old Seattle, the city that once was but will never be again. I wish I could end on a happy note. My past work as a screenwriter instilled the belief that heroes rise from the ashes of defeat in the third act. I’m not confident that Seattle will enjoy such a storybook ending. The forces of change are too complex and profitable to reverse. The powers creating and nurturing growth are too entrenched. But something is terribly wrong  when a town that once had it just right is now filled with squatter camps, garbage, and syringes. As the widow said over the salesman’s grave, Attention must be paid.

We are speeding toward a cliff. I hope you have a parachute. If not, try to enjoy the wind rushing through your hair as we fall.

Part I: Population

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POPULATION CHANGES EVERYTHING

Imagine you are a farmer in the late 19th century. A trip to the nearest town involves hitching Bessie to a wagon and travelling down a narrow dirt road. The road is narrow because yours is the only wagon to use it. Ruts fit your wagon wheels precisely because you’ve made the trip frequently, coming and the going in the same grooves.

Now jump a century forward. The farm is no longer a farm but a subdivision of five hundred houses, each with a garage and at least one car. To accommodate the increased traffic, the road is no longer narrow, dirt, or rutted. It is wide, paved smooth, and painted with a line down the middle. Drivers are trained to stay to the right side of the line. Driving on the left side will result in a ticket or worse. A legal process is established to license drivers, enforce traffic laws, and levy fines. Taxes are collected to pay for the roads, the laws, and the police officers who enforce them.

All of this because of increased population.

Americans bristle at government intrusion into their lives, but requiring people to drive on the right side of the road is generally accepted as a sensible way to ensure that more people reach their destinations safely. We understand that as population rises such behavioral mandates and the cost of their enforcement will also increase. That is the price of enjoying the benefits of a dense urban environment.

Seattle has, from the very beginning, been a real estate speculation with the goal of increasing population. The city’s founders, Arthur Denny and Doc Maynard, were each given 360 acres as part of the Donation Claims Act, but they had no intention of farming or ranching. They wanted to establish a city in order to raise the value of the land the federal government had given them for free.[1]

Any real estate investment is contingent upon a growing population. The value of dirt is entirely dependent on how many people want to live and work on it. More people create more demand and a higher value. This is the founding principle of Seattle and much of the American West. People bought land cheap and sold it to new settlers for a profit. Southern California had an easy time selling sunshine and orange groves. The Pacific Northwest could only offer rain and timber.

As a result, the Puget Sound was one of the last regions in the lower 48 states to be settled. The population grew slowly. It took twenty years for Seattle to go from a couple hundred settlers in 1850 to 3,533 in 1870. The growth of milling and shipbuilding drew more people to the region and the population rose to 42,837 by 1890. When gold was discovered in Alaska’s Yukon region in 1897, Seattle became a major departure point for fortune hunters from across the country. This first boom exploded the population to 80,671 by the turn of the century. Seattle never looked back, growing to a population of 237,194