Vote for the city you want.

Vote for the city you want. 

That's the message on PSAs in subway tunnels and on bus stop glass as New York City prepares for next week's mayoral and council primaries. 

The author Michael Greenberg posed a similar challenge in his widely read analysis of the affordable housing crisis in the New York Review of Books last month:

To what extent should a renter who fulfills the terms of his lease be shielded from the vagaries of real estate markets with their speculative booms and busts? More broadly, what kind of city do New Yorkers want to live in? What responsibility, if any, do we bear to make sure that our most besieged citizens are not pushed out by our current urban prosperity?

Last week, I left my job in Washington Heights and jogged southeast, through the NYCHA towers toward Harlem River Drive and over a pedestrian bridge to Harlem River Park. Three people sat on a dirty futon surrounded by shopping carts and boxes at the shady and secluded end of the bridge, just before it reached the sunny grass. On the other side of the overpass, a man slept wedged, almost hidden, between large gray rocks. 

What kind of city do you want?

In a Slate interview, Greenberg summarizes the power the City and – especially – the State wield over private developers but fail to deploy in address the humanitarian crisis. It's a key point in his essay:

There’s a tremendous amount of power that the city and the state have to shape the real estate market. They have more power than the private developers, because they have zoning power, they have tax break power. They can strengthen rent laws. They can weaken them. They can put lower-paying tenants in rent-stabilized and regulated apartments in jeopardy. They can make it easier for developers and speculators to push them out in a rising market.

In the first Democratic Mayoral Primary debate, moderator Brian Lehrer asked a hypothetical question to Mayor Bill De Blasio and challenger Sal Albanese about halting for-profit development until developers created a meaningful number of affordable units. Albanese embraced the idea, but De Blasio rejected it.

"He has basically turned over the city to big developers. That's the bottom line," Albanese said during the debate. 

The next day, when Lehrer hosted his fellow moderators Errol Louis from NY1 and Laura Nahmias from Politico on his WNYC show, they discussed Lehrer's affordable housing question.

Louis said that were such a for-profit freeze to take effect, construction crews would immediately work three shifts a day, every day to build the required number of affordable housing units so that they could resume building their money-making luxury towers. 

But instead, the city has given up. The city requires virtually nothing from developers aside from a bit of affordable housing for upper-middle class people with other options – not the truly needy families making less than $40,000 a year (Not to mention that to a few million people, $40,000/year sounds like a hell of a lot of money).

Greenberg writes that, in 2016, of the 6,844 new affordable units that developers built using the 421-a tax break/giveaway, only 35 percent or fewer than 2,400, went to "households making less than $40,000, the income level that is being most relentlessly pressured with eviction from older, 'undervalued,' rent-stabilized buildings."

What kind of city do you want?

A city that evicts its low-income citizens then ships them back in every morning from Central Jersey so they can care for our elderly? Rouses them from their municipal shelter cubicles so they can wash the clothes we drop off at the laundromat in their old neighborhood?

Or a city that integrates cultures and incomes? That takes care of the engines who make it run? 

I want a city no longer beholden to real estate developers, with the capability to design its own housing laws and to resist developers' influence over upstate lawmakers abetted by DINO senators and a fauxgressive governor, led by councilors with experience advocating for tenants' rights and affordable housing. I want a city where neighbors have an apartment, not a campsite under pedestrian bridges or a narrow space between boulders. 


Ten gentle strategies for motivating low-income tenants to move out so you can jack up the rent guilt-free while maintaining plausible deniability

Upwardly mobile hipster kids are eager to fork over a few thousand bucks for any modest studio in a trendy neighborhood. Do you own a building in one of those up-and-coming spots? Well aren’t you are a savvy speculator.

Unfortunately, you’re probably saddled with a handful of low-income or, even worse, rent-stabilized tenants. You need to get them out of there so you can double the rent for some graphic designer who just moved from Ohio! But, understandably, you don’t want to be mean about it.

Therefore, you have to avoid all the standard slumlording strategies. You can’t neglect maintenance and repairs. You can’t cut off the heat and hot water. You can’t send fake eviction notices. You can’t bribe them with pitiful buyouts that seem like a ton of money to a poor person. You definitely can’t threaten them.

So here are ten gentle strategies for motivating low-income tenants to move out so you can jack up the rent guilt-free while maintaining plausible deniability.

1. Frame your tenants for a victimless crime that carries a relatively light sentence at a minimum security prison. Insurance fraud or tax evasion would work. 

2. Host a community-building backyard cookout. It won't be your fault when the s’mores campfire accidentally sweeps through the first-floor apartment (Bonus points for collecting insurance money and jacking up the rent).

3. Commence relentless doxxing campaign in which you share your tenant's home address and vital information.

4. Borrow your tenant's computer and stumble upon some shameful photos, texts or internet search results that inspire your tenant to change cities once they are shared online. 

5. Play the long game: Begin dating your tenant. Encourage him/her to break their lease and move in with you. Cohabitate for roughly two months. Gradually lose interest in them. Retreat from their touch. Mysteriously fail to come home after a work party. Sit them down for an important talk later that week. Tell him/her it’s not working out. 

6. Another long game: Find out where your tenant works. Research the company. Apply for a job in a supervisory role. Prepare for interview. Nail it. Get hired. Conduct quality review. Propose a cost-saving employee reduction plan. Receive praise from budget-conscious administration. Lay your tenant off. Expect them to pay rent despite reduced income.

7. Pump marijuana smoke through the radiator. Only a herb with no chill would complain. Your tenant would likely save face by quietly moving. 

8. Be too nice.

9. It would be pretty messed up if some of those notorious “sewer alligators” crawled up through the pipes. Just saying.

10. Cut off the cold water.