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424 pages, Paperback
First published August 9, 2001
Lacking water, the cartel simply imported it from hundreds of miles away, using whatever political clout and legal skullduggery was required. ("If we don't get it," William Mulholland once said, "we won't need it.") Lacking people, they imported bodies, luring trainload after trainload from the frigid winter climes of the Midwest with the promise of an eternal summer, a moral society, and a nice little bungalow, Lacking an economy, they invented one, using a Ponzi scheme of real estate speculation until they could kick-start other industries, such as entertainment, oil, and aerospace. No challenge in this task of city-building was too great...
These engineers of the growth machine engaged in a wide variety of activities-streetcar companies, electric utilities, water service, publishing. But many of these tasks were loss leaders that didn't see a profit. Their real purpose was to facilitate the growth machine's underlying goal: to consume land profitably. And for everything that Los Angeles lacked, land was one raw material available in abundance.
In short, power in Los Angeles city politics revolved largely around an iron triangle of nominally nonpartisan politicians, developer/ contributors, and the Democratic party-an iron triangle which, though theoretically liberal in political philosophy, was really part of the business-oriented growth machine.
The suburban cocoon can be figurative as well, keeping outsiders away through financial and political means. Special taXing districts established by cities and developers after the passage of Proposition 13 have woven financial cocoons around many suburban subdivisions. Unable to pay for roads, parks, and schools out of property tax revenue, the cities essentially bill the residents of new subdivisions for the cost. Also since [340] Proposition 13, suburbanites have turned increasingly to the practice of seceding from the surrounding metropolis by creating new cities. It should not be surpriSing, then, that people living inside these suburban cocoons become cocoon citizens, defining the common good as that which benefits only those inside their particular cocoon. Far from identifying themselves as citizens of a region or a metropolis, they often have trouble identifying themselves even as citizens of the small suburban cities of which they are a part.
The standard joke urbanists make about denizens of the Los Angeles metropolis-the joke that is intended to single them out for ridicule as people who truly live on Mars and not in a real city-is that most of them have never been downtown. ... But you would never, ever mistake downtown Los Angeles for an actual place that has significance in your life.
Unless, that is, you are somehow connected to L.A.'s blueblood elite, such as it is.
And to the arriving hordes of Midwesterners, many of whom had cashed handsomely out of the family farm, the new subdivisions offered exactly what they wanted: a reminder of a rural past without the harsh realities of the hardscrabble life they'd left behind. The popularity of the car was the result of L.A.'s suburban ethos, not its cause.