Pensacola’s irrepressible “economic development” experts are at it again – and by “it” I mean their self-appointed duty to defecate all over anything that might improve stagnant local…everything.
This time, our bottomless supply of professional job whisperers are aiming their keen, collective sense of “somebody might do something that doesn’t have anything to do with me” radar on a planned Bruce Beach fish hatchery project.
Needless to say, the hatchery MUST BE STOPPED.
For the good of the people, of course.
So something “more appropriate” can be placed there, obviously.
What might that appropriateness look like, o wise and learned Blatherers of Pseudo-Academic Jargon?”
On that topic, our esteemed Central Planning experts offer the usual vague blandishments. You needn’t concern yourself with specifics. You probably wouldn’t understand the complicated urban revitalization concepts anyway.
If we could just dream up the “highest and best use” (read: housing) Master Plan for the spot, you see, “good paying jobs” will miraculously materialize from the “economic development” ether. One for everybody! Save me a desk by the water cooler!
Meanwhile, an actual project; a real thing that’s already approved, that will actually produce something, specifically, supplies of a dwindling food and ecological resource; MUST BE STOPPED.
Just like the Port! And the Lexington! And the aquarium suggestion somebody tossed out a couple of years ago! All that stuff that was supposed to make the Maritime Park something more than a grotesque debt drain/housing development “anchor!” The cruise ship! Etc.!
From what we can piece together out of the pompous jargon soup our shining “economic development” geniuses are vomiting all over it, a fish hatchery will apparently interfere with certain longstanding-yet-nebulous “urban waterfront” fantasies that involve “enhanced” cultural…something.
A dog track museum, perhaps? A compendium of poetic odes to government salaries and multi-generational nepotism?
Needless to say, Pensacola News Journal is cheerleading imaginary “vision” reveries over the actual something that might be built and operated.
Cancel the hatchery, PNJ’s Central Planning Ph.D.s urge! We must make way for a “chance to offer a more functional and appropriate site for the facility.”
Like what, PNJ? Ummmmmm….let me guess. Housing development?
On that note, I’m sure we’re all surprised to learn that your friend and sponsor Mr. Studer also opposes the hatchery project.
He must know what he’s talking about because his Maritime Park pet project has worked out so wonderfully for taxpayers. How many times over is it paying for itself? When will the debt bond be retired? What ever happened to all the non-housing “amenities” that were supposed to accompany it?
What’s the return on investment, and when can we expect a PNJ investigative report? Ha ha, just kidding!
The key factor our central planning experts seem to be missing in all their fuzzy reveries about shoehorning European-style café stradas into a town whose latest claim to fame is the kid smothered by Auntie’s fat rear end is that Central Planning, historically, doesn’t work. Just ask Joseph Stalin and Kim Jong Un.
Real “urban” areas – the kind with people living and working and generating money in them – develop outward from real enterprises and industries. Industries that are often less than aesthetically charming.
Real, productive economic activity is what drives the fancy cafes and shops and olive oil emporiums. It doesn’t work the other way around.
You can’t build a colorful façade and hope it’ll magically attract “jobs,” other than “economic development” and other unsustainable, tax-subsidized water cooler ones. You’ll just waste money and chase real opportunities away.
Rome wasn’t built from a “master plan.” Not every city is a Paris waiting to happen if you just paper it over with the perfect Disneyworld shell. The world needs Marseille and Naples…and Pensacola, too. Here’s an “economic development” “Master Plan” “long-term strategy:” stop interfering with real commerce and let it grow itself.