”Teardown” has become part of the lexicon of the real-estate boom. It refers to a house a builder or family buys with the express purpose of replacing it with a newer, bigger and more valuable home. “Teardown,” it should be noted, has also become an ugly word, and municipalities from Maryland to Atlanta to Texas are coming up with ways to limit the practice. In Miami Beach, Fla., a special permit is required to knock down any home built before 1942, and a group of Atlanta residents moved last year that new homes in existing neighborhoods be less than 33 feet high.
In suburban communities, fighting teardowns can be complicated. In older suburbs, major renovation and infill development can turn a dilapidated area around. And remodeling, not to mention privacy and self-determination, is part of any homeowner's birthright. The look of the community, however, is also paramount. A Bethesda, Md. homeowners association is agitating to impose a six-month moratorium on demolition, hoping to halt the spread of McMansions while town leaders consider how to protect the character of the town---one of the oldest suburbs in the nation, and filled with colonials and ranches locals call “American classics.”
Other suburbs are fighting not just complete teardowns, but extensive remodeling known as “massing”: additions that so maximize the space on a lot—usually by building up as well as out—that they block neighbors’ light. A related bane is infilling, where a builder develops unused space in a subdivision, squeezing as much onto the lot as will fit.
As unpopular as rapacious rebuilding is, the real-estate boom has made the economics of teardowns nearly unresistable. One realty company that specializes in matching sellers and builders looking for teardown properties,
Value in Land, even forgoes its commission from the seller to encourage those who might feel the pinch of conscience about the effect of their sale on their neighborhoods.
Zoning rules are the most direct way to limit the size of new houses replacing old ones, or to make sure new homes conform to the look of the neighborhood. In
Blue Ash, Ohio, near Cincinnati, the town council is looking at restricting how far a structure can be set back from the street. Other towns, like Highland Park, Ill. has tried taxing tear downs, using the tarrifs to pay for low-income housing.
The trick is to limit aggressive teardowns and massing without quashing the normal remodeling and renovation. In
Geneva, Ill., town planners want to revise zoning tables to consider the total volume of a house, rather than just the square footage of a house’s footprint on its lot. Critics of the plan say the new way of calculating house size will discriminate against people with older houses, which usually boast higher ceiling heights. if people want to add a sunroom, or a porch, or a garage, to an older house, the city might turn them down because they already have too much square footage for their lot,” says one critic TK. Rules governing building, he says, “are about property rights, personal investment, neighborhoods, economic development and the future of a community.”
Other communities have actually encouraged teardowns,arguing that they allow growing families to stay in town. Through its “Richfield Rediscovered” program,
Richfield, Minn., acquires and demolishes small and unsightly homes, then sells the empty lots to builders for redevelopment. By upgrading its housing stock, Richfield leaders hope to retain their growing families.
Individual homeowners can do their own part to make the best of teardowns, of course. A couple recently bought a 50 year-old home on a half-acre in
Tempe, Ariz., that didn’t fit their needs. They donated it to an organization that provides houses for low-income people. The tax deduction they receive will cover most of the cost of demolition and moving. "The house was a solid-block home,” Elizabeth Cling told the Arizona Republic. “We didn't see any reason to tear it down." The Clings say they will replace it with a 5,000-square-foot home.