Contracts—Key to Urban Rebirth


It is widely acknowledged that our urban areas, and in particular our central cities, are in serious trouble. As the quality of public services in the city degenerates, more people flee to the suburbs, depressing city property values and weakening the tax base. Yet rising costs of government generate ever larger tax levels, which further hasten the flight to the suburbs. The suburbs, too, are in serious trouble. As more and more people arrive there seeking relief from high taxes, seeking peace and quiet, clean air, and open space, local public services become strained to capacity, necessitating tax increases. The glut of people drives land values skyward, causing high density housing to be built, taking away once prized open spaces. As crowding sets in, crime increases, pollution appears, and a new wave of out migration—to still further suburbs—begins. All the while the government officials left behind cry out for more revenue, hoping to tax the suburbs or the commuters, or to "federalize" certain of their programs, or to "revenue share" with their ever generous Uncle in Washington.

This discouraging cycle of flight and decay has been going on at an ever increasing pace since World War II, but during the late '60's and early '70's it has become especially pronounced. Costs of local government are increasing at rates of better than 10% per year in many areas. In New York City, the six years of the Lindsay regime have seen expenditures rise by 136%. [1] New York City's current budget is $8.8 billion, ten times the budget of Chicago, which has 43% as many people. And yet New Yorkers complain vociferously about the abominable quality of public services [see "Block Associations in Fun City" on p. 12 of this issue].

Although New York is admittedly an extreme case, it is likely a harbinger of things to come across the country. New York has set the pace for unionization of municipal employees, leading to the highest pay scales of any government in the country (including the federal government). And since labor costs account for more than half of the city's operating budget, it is easy to see why the budget keeps increasing. As unionization spreads to municipal employees elsewhere (including police and firemen), the existing financial plight of U.S. cities is bound to worsen. Already tax revolts are occurring in California cities, as citizens reach the limit of their patience with the runaway cost of local government.


As noted above, politicians of all stripes appear to think that the answer lies in making more money available to local government from "somewhere": the suburbs, the state, or Washington. Besides the fallacy of composition involved here (if all cities look to "Washington" to take care of welfare, for example, where is "Washington" supposed to get the money?), the proponents of such measures have no answer to the question of how much more money would solve the cities' crisis. All they can do is ask for more and, when that has been spent, ask for still more. But to solve a problem, one must look beyond the symptoms. Our cities' and suburbs' lack of money is not the problem—rather, it is a symptom of more fundamental problems, problems involving the basic nature of the agencies which provide our local public services of law enforcement, adjudication, fire protection, education, utilities, etc.

Unlike most services, those which are designated "public" are provided not by business enterprises but by government bureaucracies. This is no minor difference; a business enterprise, because it is organized in hopes of returning a profit to its investors, must marshall its resources with utmost care and make rational decisions with reference to well-defined goals and objectives. All of these attributes are missing from public bureaucracies.

Moreover, if a service enterprise does not provide acceptable service to its customers, they are free to patronize other suppliers, and such competitors are free to organize at any time. But with forced funding via taxation, and a legal monopoly in providing its services, a government bureaucracy provides no such options to its "customers". The basic feedback mechanism of consumer choice, expressed via the price system, is missing from public services. As a result, rather than seeking to meet consumer demands in a cost-minimizing way, government agencies become dedicated largely to self-enhancement, subject only to occasional political pressure and temporary budget ceilings. The result, predictably, is escalating costs for deteriorating levels of service.

None of this is news to students of the free market. It has long been acknowledged, by all but die-hard leftist ideologues, that the market, with the feedback and discipline of the price system, provides the most efficient and effective way to produce both goods and services. It isn't just ignorance that prevents most public services from being offered on the market. Through long acceptance of tradition, it never occurs to most people to demand an alternative to governmental monopolies. Many public services are looked upon as "natural monopolies," and as long as the government is the monopolist, most people never consider any alternative. All of which certainly works to the advantage of those whose livelihood depends on the continued existence of these bureaucracies. The entire political system, with its reward structure of power and prestige, depends on the continuation and expansion of the sphere of government monopolies. Between this incentive to preserve the status quo and the public's studied indifference, it is easy to see why there has been no rush to introduce market mechanisms into the public services.

Yet if the cost-tax-flight cycle is ever to be broken, and some sort of sense of order and community restored, it is clear that the discipline induced by profit-seeking, businesslike organization must be introduced into the public services. Moreover, from an ethical standpoint, the coercion involved in enforcing monopolies on people must be terminated. The question, then, is how best to accomplish this, given the present dominance of the field by professional bureaucracies. The remainder of this article explores several mechanisms for accomplishing this.


The deepening fiscal crisis of local government provides the opening wedge by which entrepreneurs can begin to topple the public service monopolies. As noted earlier, revenue sharing and other share-the -wealth schemes, even if enacted, will not solve the cities' financial problems (although they may disguise the symptoms for a few years). Rising costs will eventually threaten to get completely out of hand, to the point where city administrators will be willing to listen to (almost) any plan for relieving the pressure. At this point, the entrepreneur should be ready with an offer to take over a specific public service function, on a contractual basis, for a specific period of time (e.g., one or two years). In exchange for a free hand with personnel and other management policies, and complete control over the internal cost structure, he and his firm will agree to take over and run the department, for a specific price, say 25% less than the current budget. The contract would contain certain minimum performance standards but would otherwise leave the firm free to innovate, so as to do the job in the most efficient way. Such contracts could revolutionize the delivery of public services.

The cities where such contracts exist today bear out this point. Garbage and trash collection in many cities are handled contractually, sometimes by means of franchises to more than one firm. One of the more notable examples of completely private garbage collection occurs in San Francisco, where the per capita cost is one fifth that of New York's Sanitation Department [REASON, September 1971, p. 28]. Another well-known contractual public service occurs in Scottsdale, Arizona. There, the Rural/Metropolitan Fire Protection Company has a contract with the city (population: 65,000) to provide fire protection services on an annual fee basis. Using cost-effectiveness criteria and sound business methods, the company is able to provide high-quality service for one third of the cost of comparable fire protection in cities the same size [2].

Contract law enforcement [see "Rent-a-Sheriff," p. 14, this issue] provided by one government agency to the citizens of another jurisdiction, currently exists in 55 California cities, generally in the form of contracts between individual cities and the County Sheriff. Similar contracts exist in Atlanta and Fulton County, Georgia, on a city to county basis and by means of the "resident trooper plan" in 46 Connecticut towns [3]. As James Q. Wilson points out in his article, there is no inherent reason why the same type of contract could not be signed between a city and a private firm (e.g., Burns or Pinkerton) to provide a defined level of law enforcement services.

The existing contract law enforcement programs, even though provided by government bureaucracies, still save the recipients money. This is due to the economies of scale inherent in having a large agency serving many clients; all the "overhead" functions (crime lab, communications, records, etc.) are shared over many users, instead of having to be duplicated for each city. Thus, a private law enforcement firm would probably want to follow this pattern, by contracting with a number of cities, especially if they were small communities. The combined savings from economies of scale and private enterprise management could be quite significant.

Thus, the pattern for contractual performance of public services already exists. It is merely a case of applying the concept to more situations. One of the more recent innovations has been performance contracting in education [see REASON, March 1972, p. 30]. In these contracts, a private firm takes over a school or a particular subject in a school, with the payment being dependent on how much the students' performance improves. In another context, former IBM manager of urban systems E.S. Savas, now serving as First Deputy City Administrator of New York City, recently suggested that the city issue refuse collection vouchers, which the citizens could use to pay any trash collector, private or public, as a means of breaking the Sanitation Department's untenable monopoly on the citizens' money. This was only one of a number of Savas' suggestions for attacking "municipal monopolies" in his recent HARPER'S article [4].


In the ethereal realm of the political/economic theoretician, contracting out public services sounds like a trivial reform. After all, the political structure is still intact, the system is still financed by coercive taxation, the standards are still set by government administrators rather than by market demands. Yet in the real world of cities and politics, such a step seems almost revolutionary. To adopt such contracting, a city government acknowledges that the bureaucratic mode of production of services is a failure, and that outsiders—upstart entrepreneurs—can do a better job than professional public servants. That the First Deputy City Administrator of New York City should be conceding this point is a highly significant indicator of the depth of the problem and of the inevitability that, sooner or later, the realities of the situation will be faced. Furthermore, once people begin to see that individual public services are no different from any other services, and that they can be supplied more efficiently by private companies, the stage will be set for further extensions of the free market in solving urban problems.

Contracting for public services via the existing government structure will go a long way toward alleviating the current fiscal crisis facing many urban taxpayers. Fire, police, sanitation, water, sewage, and school systems can all be contracted out to private firms relatively easily, both in central cities and in suburban area. Where this is done, it will have a significant effect, both reducing costs and improving service levels. Still, many cities may find it politically impossible to take this step; still others may be too far advanced into total decay to attract any entrepreneurs to provide such services. In addition there is a whole class of environmental problems that will not be solved by contracting for public services. For these reasons, a broader look at the market for public services must be taken, to consider more thoroughgoing applications of the contractual principle.


Of all the demands expressed in the marketplace, none has been so poorly put forth or so unsatisfactorily supplied as the demand for a good environment. As mentioned earlier, this demand is one of the factors (along with high taxes) motivating the migration to the suburbs. Yet in another example of the fallacy of composition (or the tragedy of the commons), when enough people move to the suburbs, the very qualities they are seeking (natural beauty, open space, clean air, etc.) tend to disappear. The result is that an ever increasing portion of the countryside gets paved over and built up, with an ever increasing turnover as more people attempt to reacquire the lost amenities of country life.

What has gone wrong? Why isn't this demand being met effectively by the market? A good part of the blame may be traced to the nature of the political-economic system of our suburban areas. For in fact, these areas are not "free markets" but "mixed economies"—thoroughly interwined mixtures of private enterprise (land sales, construction, retail trade, home ownership) and government (roads, zoning, sewage systems, parks). Despite the existence of zoning laws and governmental planning bodies, whose alleged purpose is to protect environmental values, the fact that adjacent properties are under the control of hundreds of different people, each seeking his own ends, works against any positive effects of governmental planning and zoning. Indeed, the ineffectiveness of zoning as a means of preventing the imposition of external costs on others has been well documented recently [see "Trends," p. 32 in this issue]. By its nature as a political tool, zoning is subject to frequent abuse; in addition, it is often unrealistically rigid and simple-minded in its attempts to legislate good environmental design. Furthermore, both planning and zoning by government are subject to hard-won limitations designed to protect people from the arbitrary taking of their private property.


Despite these constraints the market is in fact slowly responding to the failure of our suburban mixed economy to provide a good environment. On a small scale, housing developers are beginning to design entire subdivisions as a whole, with environmental considerations given important consideration. Second-home communities like Sunriver, Oregon, and Sea Ranch, California, have skillfully applied these principles on land areas of about 5000 acres. Both are located in rural areas of great natural beauty. A person buying a lot automatically becomes a member of the property owners' association, which owns the common areas. Over 50% of the land at Sea Ranch will be preserved in this manner. Included in the common facilities are the private roads, trails, recreation facilities, and underground utilities (including cable TV). A private security force protects the privacy and property of all the residents. Thus, the market is responding to environmental demands far more effectively than government planning and zoning can do.

The lesson of these rather small-scale ventures has not been lost on large land developers and major corporations. One of the hottest growth industries of the '70's is likely to be the development of new towns—entire cities, not just vacation or residential communities. A new town is designed and master planned from the ground up, rather than having its growth and development left to the forces of the suburban mixed economy.

The new town idea orginated with Ebenezer Howard, author of the classic GARDEN CITIES OF TOMORROW, in the late 19th century. But it was not until after World War II in Europe that the idea began to take hold in earnest. Many new towns were developed by the British government, with mixed results. Probably the most successful new town in Europe is the privately-developed Tapiola in Finland. Besides possessing a remarkably good environment, Tapiola boasts unique design features, including a central heating system utilizing the waste heat from the city's power plants. [5]. Architect Alfred Boeke of Oceanic Properties (developer of Sea Ranch) says of Tapiola, "Private initiative in a democracy has achieved a magnificent urban environment…the maturity of the concept and the beauty of every detail places Tapiola first among man's contemporary community developments." [6]


In the United States, meanwhile, the market for large scale new towns is growing rapidly, spurred on by the failure of both cities and suburbs to provide a good environment. Ads for Kaiser's 95,000-acre Rancho California development stress that "It hasn't been mindlessly bulldozed, black-topped, or stuccoed. It hasn't been turned into a crazy-quilt of instant suburbs.…there's been development…but it doesn't stick out like a sore thumb. That's the whole idea." The giant Irvine Ranch in sprawling Orange County, California, is being developed by the Irvine Company into a group of communities and industrial parks permanently set among large areas of open space. Irvine is the largest of the American new towns, comprising 130 square miles.

The most famous new towns, Reston, Virginia, and Columbia, Maryland, have survived their infancy and early financing problems and are starting to develop into real (and profitable) communities. Reston, with 11,000 residents and 34 companies, is soon going to be the home of a "community study center," as part of Virginia Polytechnic Institute, which "will be a focal point for research, planning, development, management, and operation of new communities. It will include a school for training new-city personnel—now in short supply". [7] Columbia, too has succeeded, with 20,000 residents and 44 plants, including a huge new GE "appliance park." Like most new cities, Columbia's houses are grouped into small villages, with all underground utilities, winding streets, and lots of green space; all the industries are grouped into industrial parks. Among Columbia's unusual features is a voluntary, citywide health insurance plan, headquartered in a central clinic run by Johns Hopkins Medical School. [8]

Now that the basic concept has been proven and is making money for the pioneers, giants of American industry are getting into the new town business. Gulf Oil rescued Reston from financial failure in 1967 and is now making money; and now McCulloch Oil has begun building 12,000-acre Fountain Hills near Scottsdale, Arizona. Fountain Hills is planned for 70,000 residents, with 25% of the land reserved for open space and recreation. Even aerospace companies are getting into the act. Boeing recently announced plans to develop a 100,000-acre tract in northeastern Oregon that it has leased until 2040 [9]. Boeing plans to convert the largely desert land into an agricultural community. Cooling water from a soon-to-be-built nuclear power plant, instead of being returned to pollute the Columbia River thermally, will be used for year-round irrigation of the land. To enrich the soil, Boeing has contracted with a consortium of Portland waste disposal firms to recycle garbage and sewage sludge into the irrigated desert soil. Farming, food-processing, and related industries will be developed, along with a community of 10,000 residents, all master-planned by Boeing systems management experts. [10]

What the planned city does, of course, is accomplish the alleged objectives of government planning and zoning but without coercion and without politics. Moreover, because the developer has a financial stake in providing a good environment, he takes great pains to conduct detailed advance planning. The harmful externalities of incompatible land use are internalized when the entire community is planned as a whole. People can buy a home with some degree of confidence that the green meadows, forests, trails, etc. that are nearby will remain nearby, rather than being bulldozed away to build more houses. Schools and stores can be within walking distance in pre-planned villages which won't sprawl outward 10 years later, leaving behind a decaying downtown. In short, the developers of new towns have found that there is a market for good environments. Columbia, Maryland, made $3.6 million for the Rouse Company in 1971; property sales at Irvine and Sea Ranch are booming.


One question remains, however. Once the lots are all sold and the developer has recovered his investment, what happens to the new town? Thus far, the answer is somewhat discouraging. Irvine Company planners have recently incorporated Irvine as a (political) municipality, and the first government has been elected. Rouse Company has already turned over school property, roads, and other facilities to the county government, although it plans to maintain them itself. The Columbia Association is still dominated by the company, but by 1980 will have become an elected government.

Despite the long U.S. heritage of local self-government and hostility to "company towns," these moves may well turn out to be a profound mistake. The introduction of a political process, displacing professional management, could well lead to the evolution of all the standard metropolitan ills. Once politics becomes a factor, the stage is set for the development of special interest groups, manipulation, influence peddling, and the like. Before long, the new town's zoning will become a political matter, with all that politics entails. In short, despite the advantage of a rational beginning, the new towns run the serious risk of losing their designed-in benefits via the evolution of political government.

We have seen historically how the ideals of municipal planning and zoning invariably become perverted by political power. In the name of protecting property rights, a majority or their alleged representatives are given the legal power to use force against individual property owners who are deemed nonconforming, whether or not their use of their property is causing harm to others. The political mechanism provides, at best, a very tenuous protection of one's property and environment (and, in many cases, becomes the means for its destruction). The security that the residents thought they were buying, in moving into a new town, may become an illusion if put in the hands of a political body. Ten years later, what is to prevent the town council from bowing to pressure to allow an office building in the green belt? Such moves are as likely as the granting of zoning variances in today's unplanned communities. The grand dream of a planned, protected community could easily slip away.


What alternative is there to introducing political government in new towns? What sort of device do people use in other contexts to guarantee performance and to protect specific rights? That device is the contract, freely entered into, which binds both parties for the term agreed to. Just as contracts with profit-seeking companies provide incentives to ensure more efficient delivery of public services, so a contract between a resident and a profit-seeking proprietor provides incentives for preservation of property values.

The use of contracts as the basis of a community has been explored in detail by Spencer H. MacCallum in his book THE ART OF COMMUNITY [see the book review, p. 25 in this issue]. MacCallum sees the function of land developers as not just the creation of new values, in the form of communities, but the ongoing development and management—for profit—of such communities. In order to retain the incentives and control properly to manage the proprietary community thus created, the developer/manager would likely retain title to all the land, rather than just the roads and common areas. Residents would be able to sign long-term lease contracts which, considering the length of time most people stay in one house today, would be in many ways equivalent to today's "ownership" via mortgages. The leasing contracts would spell out precisely the proprietor's responsibility to maintain certain environmental features and values, for the life of the contract. The contractually-agreed upon monthly fee would include the costs of all services, which the proprietor would provide, possibly via contracts with specialized outside companies. Because of the long terms of some of the leases, the proprietor would have an incentive to keep his operating costs low. Yet because of the turnover of residents, his contractual obligations, and the opportunity to continue to increase property values, he would have incentives to keep the service level high and the environment in good shape.

Contrast the operation of a proprietary new town with that of a politically governed new town. As MacCallum points out, the management of a proprietary community, in contrast to the "sovereign" government, has the authority of ownership to use in planning and administering the community The sovereign's power of force is an entirely different kind of authority—it is not the alleged authority to force others to make certain uses of their own property. The role of proprietor, vis à vis each and every resident, is clearly spelled out by the contracts; there are no degrees of responsiveness based on political influence. Nor can the individual resident's use of his (leased) property come into conflict with that of his neighbor's or with the plans of the proprietor, since all such uses are spelled out in advance in the contracts. The contracts, voluntarily entered into, make possible a degree of social cohesion and harmony that is unheard of under political management.

"I see no reason why you can't have privately financed entrepreneurial cities of 400,000 people." Herbert Holloman, former Assistant Secretary of Commerce for Science and Technology.


Walt Disney World in Florida [see box below] is a 27,000-acre proprietary community, which will eventually house a 20,000 resident Experimental Prototype Community of Tomorrow, in addition to the current amusement park and recreation areas. Disney World has a municipal charter from the state of Florida, thereby exempting it from the political jurisdiction (and taxes, zoning laws, and building codes) of any adjacent municipalities. [11] The Disney organization provides the basic public services itself but has contracted with outside companies such as Gulf Oil and GAF, to provide various other products and services on an exclusive basis. Some two dozen firms have paid handsomely to be the exclusive suppliers of such services and to use this fact in their advertising. [12] In the absence of political zoning and building codes, Disney and U.S. Steel are turning out modular buildings from an on-site automated plant.

Century City in Los Angeles and the Prudential Center in Boston are both large urban commercial and residential complexes, under a single ownership which leases space to tenants and provides all necessary services as part of the leasing contract.

Century City, owned and operated by Alcoa, contains 500,000 square feet of retail stores, 800 high-rise apartment units, 800 hotel rooms, and 12 high-rise office buildings. In Costa Mesa, California's South Coast Plaza has an enclosed mall, soon to be expanded from 1.2 to 1.8 million square feet. It will be joined by an adjacent South Coast Town Center containing high-rise office buildings, hotels, three movie theaters, a supper club, financial center, and 75 shops and restaurants.

Developers of these giant proprietary shopping / working / living / entertainment centers know exactly what it is they are doing. James Rouse of Rouse Company (which opened four such centers in a single month last year) says the key words are "comprehensiveness [and] completeness—the integration of all the retail and commercial functions of modern life and the activities that people are involved in." [13] In a word, these developers are doing city planning, and they know it. But when they finish a portion of their "city," they do not abandon it to the political process; instead, they put it in the hands of competent, professional, profit-minded management. The same can—and will—be done with new towns, before much longer.


There is one further logical step in the evolution away from the urban mixed economy to a private-enterprise, contractual community. Given the pressure of expanding population and the spiraling cost of land, it is clear that to a much greater extent, communities of the future must be three-dimensional, rather than eating up the countryside on a single level. This trend is already apparent in such high-rise proprietary communities as the Prudential Center and Century City, and in the newer multi-level shopping mall complexes. Visionary architects and planners, such as Buckminster Fuller, Athelstan Spilhaus, and Paolo Soleri [see book review, p. 29 in this issue] have proposed the construction of megastructures—giant constructions a cubic kilometer or more in bulk. Such cities represent perhaps the ultimate in master-planning and comprehensive design, dwarfing the fledgeling city-planning skills of today's commercial mall complexes. Because of their unified design, fully-integrated utilities and provision of other services (e.g., security), megastructures will naturally tend towards proprietary management. They will be built as income-producing ventures, with lease and rental income recovering the huge start-up capital costs and providing for operating expenses.

With the emergence of proprietary megastructures, the evolution from a politicized mixed economy to a contractual, free-market system will be complete, in both urban and suburban forms. One can imagine a society in transition, in which people can choose between the old, nearly-bankrupt central cities, the chaotic jumble of conventional suburbs, the initial new towns trying to make political government work, a new generation of professionally-managed proprietary new towns, and here and there (for the cosmopolitan and urban-minded) a proprietary megastructure rising skyward out of the surrounding urban chaos or standing aloof in an untouched wilderness. On whatever grounds are considered—cost, amenities, stability, security, sense of community—it isn't hard to predict which types of environments people will select. The free market can provide these kinds of choices, if only we let it do its work.

Robert Poole, Jr., is a systems analyst with a California think-tank. A graduate of MIT, he has pursued additional graduate studies at New York University and UCLA. He is presently editor of REASON.


…The truth of the matter is that the only New Towns of any significance built in this country since World War II are Disneyland, in Anaheim, California, and Disney World, in Orlando, Florida. Both are "New," both are "Towns," and both are staggeringly successful.…

Only the Disney people (of all the daring New Town planners in the United States) have constructed entirely new mass-transit systems. Only the Disney people have built lakes and lagoons, artificial surf and waterfalls; only they are building, at Disney World, four miles of new beaches…and only they have built, also, housing, stores, golf course, stables, nature trails and camping grounds—while not at all bankrupting themselves or the taxpayers (whoever they may be) but getting richer and richer, and making the people of Florida and southern California and the world happier and happier.

All the extraordinary technical innovations introduced in Disney World as a matter of course have been known to every U.S. urban designer for decades; unhappily, however, nothing can ever get done in New York because there are too many people gainfully employed in the city bureaucracy whose function it is to figure out why something unprecedented will never work.…But at Disney World there was no such gainfully-employed bureaucracy, and so they installed (for example) a city-wide, underground vacuum-cleaner system with ducts that run under the streets, surfacing now and then to become garbage chutes which suck in all garbage through pneumatic tubes to a central compacting and garbage disposal plant.

What all this suggests, to repeat, is that the time has come to lease Manhattan (and selected portions of other boroughs) to Walt Disney Productions, under some sort of management contract…With Manhattan operated by the Disneys, we might even persuade those Indians to come back and live here. But with Manhattan operated by our present urban design experts, all the rest of us may soon be selling out, just as the Manhattan tribe did in 1626.

Excerpted from "Mickey Mouse for Mayor!" by Peter Blake, NEW YORK, 7 February 1972, p. 41.


[1] Dan Cordtz, "How Come It Costs So Much to Run the City?" NEW YORK, 11 November 1971, p. 57.
[2] Lou Witzeman, "The Challenges Facing the Fire Service," FIRE JOURNAL, May 1970, p. 11.
[3] June Romine and Daniel L. Skoler, "Local Government Financing and Law Enforcement," THE AMERICAN COUNTY, May 1971, p. 20.
[4] E.S. Savas, "Municipal Monopoly," HARPER'S MAGAZINE, December 1971, p. 55.
[5] Harry Perry and Harold Berkson, "Must Fossil Fuels Pollute?" TECHNOLOGY REVIEW, December 1971, p. 43.

[6] Quoted in advertisement for Heikki von Hertzen and Paul D. Spreiregen, BUILDING A NEW TOWN, Cambridge, MIT Press, 1971.
[7] Leon B. Sager, "New Directions for Our Cities," BUSINESS AND SOCIETY (reprinted in SANTA BARBARA NEWS-PRESS, 16 January 1972).
[8] Jack Rosenthal, "A Tale of One City," NEW YORK TIMES MAGAZINE, 26 December 1971, p.4.
[9] Richard G. O'Lone, "Boeing Sows Diversification Seed in Desert," AVIATION WEEK, 29 November 1971, p. 44.
[10] Ibid.

[11] "Disney World Shakes Sleepy Orlando," BUSINESS WEEK, 14 November 1970.
[12] "Riding the Coattails of Mickey Mouse," BUSINESS WEEK, 11 September 1971.
[13] "Shopping Centers Grow into Shopping Cities," BUSINESS WEEK, 4 September 1971.