This book is about politics and planning outside of cities, where urban political economy and planning theories do not account for the resilience of places that are no longer rural and where local communities work hard to keep from ever becoming urban. By examining exurbia as a type of place that is no longer simply rural or only tied to the economies of global resources (e.g., mining, forestry, and agriculture), we explore how changing landscapes are planned and designed not to be urban, that is, to look, function, and feel different from cities and suburbs in spite of new home development and real estate speculation. The book's authors contend that exurbia is defined by the persistence of rural economies, the conservation of rural character, and protection of natural ecological systems, all of which are critical components of the contentious local politics that seek to limit growth. Comparative political ecology is used as an organizing concept throughout the book to describe the nature of exurban areas in the U.S. and Australia, although exurbs are common to many countries. The essays each describe distinctive case studies, with each chapter using the key concepts of competing rural capitalisms and uneven environmental management to describe the politics of exurban change. This systematic analysis makes the processes of exurban change easier to see and understand. Based on these case studies, seven characteristics of exurban places are identified: rural character, access, local economic change, ideologies of nature, changes in land management, coalition-building, and land-use planning. This book will be of interest to those who study planning, conservation, and land development issues, especially in areas of high natural amenity or environmental value. There is no political ecology book quite like this-neither one solely focused on cases from the developed world (in this case the United States and Australia), nor one that specifically harnesses different case studies from multiple areas to develop a central organizing perspective of landscape change.

This book is about politics and planning outside of cities, where urban political economy and planning theories do not account for the resilience of places that are no longer rural and where local communities work hard to keep from ever becoming urban. By examining exurbia as a type of place that is no longer simply rural or only tied to the economies of global resources (e.g., mining, forestry, and agriculture), we explore how changing landscapes are planned and designed not to be urban, that is, to look, function, and feel different from cities and suburbs in spite of new home development and real estate speculation. The book's authors contend that exurbia is defined by the persistence of rural economies, the conservation of rural character, and protection of natural ecological systems, all of which are critical components of the contentious local politics that seek to limit growth. Comparative political ecology is used as an organizing concept throughout the book to describe the nature of exurban areas in the U.S. and Australia, although exurbs are common to many countries. The essays each describe distinctive case studies, with each chapter using the key concepts of competing rural capitalisms and uneven environmental management to describe the politics of exurban change. This systematic analysis makes the processes of exurban change easier to see and understand. Based on these case studies, seven characteristics of exurban places are identified: rural character, access, local economic change, ideologies of nature, changes in land management, coalition-building, and land-use planning. This book will be of interest to those who study planning, conservation, and land development issues, especially in areas of high natural amenity or environmental value. There is no political ecology book quite like this-neither one solely focused on cases from the developed world (in this case the United States and Australia), nor one that specifically harnesses different case studies from multiple areas to develop a central organizing perspective of landscape change.

"Sprawl" is one of the ugliest words in the American political lexicon. Virtually no one wants America's rural landscapes, farmland, and natural areas to be lost to bland, placeless malls, freeways, and subdivisions. Yet few of America's fast-growing rural areas have effective rules to limit or contain sprawl.
Oregon is one of the nation's most celebrated exceptions. In the early 1970s Oregon established the nation's first and only comprehensive statewide system of land-use planning and largely succeeded in confining residential and commercial growth to urban areas while preserving the state's rural farmland, forests, and natural areas. Despite repeated political attacks, the state's planning system remained essentially politically unscathed for three decades. In the early- and mid-2000s, however, the Oregon public appeared disenchanted, voting repeatedly in favor of statewide ballot initiatives that undermined the ability of the state to regulate growth. One of America's most celebrated "success stories" in the war against sprawl appeared to crumble, inspiring property rights activists in numerous other western states to launch copycat ballot initiatives against land-use regulation.
This is the first book to tell the story of Oregon's unique land-use planning system from its rise in the early 1970s to its near-death experience in the first decade of the 2000s. Using participant observation and extensive original interviews with key figures on both sides of the state's land use wars past and present, this book examines the question of how and why a planning system that was once the nation's most visible and successful example of a comprehensive regulatory approach to preventing runaway sprawl nearly collapsed.
"Planning Paradise" is tough love for Oregon planning. While admiring much of what the state's planning system has accomplished, Walker and Hurley believe that scholars, professionals, activists, and citizens engaged in the battle against sprawl would be well advised to think long and deeply about the lessons that the recent struggles of one of America's most celebrated planning systems may hold for the future of land-use planning in Oregon and beyond.