Outer Borough No More

I love Brooklyn. While I am a Manhattanite by birth and by upbringing, I am a Brooklynite by choice. For the last 13 years I have called the borough my home, first Carroll Gardens, then Park Slope, then Gowanus, and for the last seven years, Greenpoint, the neighborhood in which my wife was born and we are now raising our daughter.

Over that span of time, Brooklyn has transformed at a dizzying pace, growing from a bohemian oasis of cheap rents, enchanting novelty, and old world charm to a booming metropolis and a global brand. Of course the borough’s metamorphosis was underway before I crossed the East River—and I am well aware that the migration of people like myself to its shore hastened its mutation. But just during the window of time I have had to observe it up close, Brooklyn has changed so profoundly that I believe it is imperative that the city and its policy makers now take a step back and evaluate it afresh in order to best chart its future.

For good or ill, the battle to preserve Brooklyn as it once was has been lost. The ravenous drive for the city to expand upwards and outwards was simply too great a force to be contained by the nuance of neighborhood identity and nostalgia. While longtime Brooklynites bemoan what has become of their borough, it was always just a matter of time; throughout its history, our city has invariably brushed aside sentimentality as stagnation whenever it has slowed the ascent of capitalism—and though we mourn the landmarks of our memory, it is also this hardheartedness that has kept us on top for over two centuries.

The new Brooklyn needs a master plan— one that both internalizes its singular identity and history, and yet one that does not keep it paralyzed in the past. Though the 1898 consolidation relegated Brooklyn to a satellite of Manhattan in the eyes of the world, it never lost its autonomous spirit as a separate city—one that would be the fourth largest in the nation if it ever wound up going solo again. It is unreasonable to believe that Mayor de Blasio, even as a Brooklynite, given the immensity and complexity of his portfolio, can simultaneously plot a course for the city as a whole, while crafting a holistic vision for Brooklyn as its own entity.

That is why I would like to suggest that the mayor appoint the first ever deputy mayor for Brooklyn. The deputy mayor would be the borough’s dedicated urban planner— its mastermind. She or he would take all the disparate threads spooled out by the city’s many agencies and weave them into a uniquely Brooklyn tapestry. Unlike the borough president, the deputy mayor would be vested with real power—the power of the mayor’s office—and thus would not just be able to advocate for change, but to effectuate it. Moreover, as a non-elected official, the deputy mayor would be free to a much greater degree to formulate policy divorced from the constraints of politics, and the influence of contributors, patrons and special interests.

It is only a matter of a generation before downtown Brooklyn becomes a mountain range of skyscrapers rivaling the iconic peaks across the water. The few remaining neighborhoods that now seem off the beaten path will be drawn closer to the city’s nucleus as professionals prospecting for affordable housing keep widening the radius of their search. As more businesses big and small set up shop in the borough, fewer Brooklynites will cram their way onto the subways to commute away from it, and instead work, live and play all in the same place. No longer will the city mean Manhattan and the term outer borough apply to the county of Kings.

To keep pace with these inevitabilities, Brooklyn’s infrastructure, its transportation network, its parks, beaches, cultural institutions, all will have to be upgraded on a scale not seen since Robert Moses remade the city. To accomplish this mighty labor, Brooklyn needs a great visionary. I have no doubt that the mayor need look only within its own borders to find someone up to task.