Every year, 120,000 federal agency actions, $8.8 billion in private renovation spending and tens of thousands of construction projects across America hinge on the interpretation of just 17 sentences, last updated almost 30 years ago.
These sentences are the secretary of the Interior’s Standards for Rehabilitation, and they govern how virtually all historic preservation projects are designed and carried out.
At their best, these standards help preserve the historic buildings, homes, schools and places of worship that form the soul of our communities. But when applied too rigidly and without regard to the needs of communities, they become yet another source of red tape and an obstacle in efforts to expand housing, retrofit buildings for energy efficiency, and spur economic growth.
Like old buildings themselves, historic preservation standards need to be modernized to ensure they’re meeting today’s needs.
As chair of the federal historic preservation agency, I have heard from countless people about the surprising hold these rules have on our communities, and the pressing need to update them. It could be a main-street business owner trying to spruce up her storefront, a church board hoping to adapt a worship space for new uses, a family eyeing solar panels for its historic bungalow, a city leader planning to restore an old schoolhouse as a community asset, or a developer transforming an unwanted office building into housing.
By their telling, these obscure federal rules have been applied to increase costs and delay or even prevent projects altogether. That’s because decisionmakers at all levels have taken a conservative approach to interpreting the standards, sometimes unnecessarily prioritizing historic materials over people and the communities they’re seeking to rebuild.
Earlier this month, I issued a 600-page report describing key issues related to the standards, drawing heavily from comments submitted to my agency. It represents the views of thousands of organizations and individuals. In lurid detail, the comments revealed that strict interpretations of the standards have hindered economic growth and environmental sustainability. Moreover, inconsistent interpretations by the many institutions applying the standards erodes confidence in preservation-related processes.
The commenters told of how decisions about paint color choices and other inconsequential matters put millions of dollars of private capital at risk. They reported creative plans for school auditoriums that have been thwarted by boards that barred them from subdividing such large spaces for housing. They conveyed denials of small-scale rooftop solar energy projects, energy-efficient window replacements, and insulation — even in chilly New England.
For years, the developers who brave the risks and challenges to do rehab projects have sounded the alarm about these issues. In their comments, the developers sought clarity, consistency, and fairness. They weren’t alone. Such comments also poured in from preservation leaders, including the largest municipal preservation agency — the New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission — as well as state officials and federal agencies collectively own and steward hundreds of thousands of historic properties.
The comments confirm that we preservationists are thinking critically about the field from within, and that we are ready to collaborate on necessary change.
The federal government, which sets the tone and creates the interpretations used by state, local, and private parties, must and will lead the charge. The Department of the Interior can address some of the issues with the current standards by issuing new, bright-line rules that would allow more housing conversions and solar energy projects, among other things. The department must also tackle the standards themselves, rewriting them to improve our climate-related response. In particular, explicitly approval of the relocation of historic properties could give shoreline communities more options as they try to stay one flood ahead of the rising seas.
My agency, which is independent of Interior, is already updating the way we interpret the standards for the federal housing projects that we regulate. Consistent with our task of advising on historic preservation policy, we will also convene conversations in the preservation community about how we can do better at the federal level.
Ironically, in looking at the standards with a fresh eye, we’re actually returning to the roots of the federal historic preservation program: the National Historic Preservation Act of 1966. It said that the federal government should ensure that “our historic property can exist in productive harmony and fulfill the social, economic, and other requirements of present and future generations.”
When we rebalance our practices in light of these values, we’ll see more of our historic places reinvigorated for the next generation.
Sara C. Bronin chairs the Advisory Council on Historic Preservation, an independent federal agency that promotes the preservation of our nation’s diverse historic resources and advises the president and Congress on national historic preservation policy.