Born in 1975, St. Paul’s 17 district councils are a decent example of a local neighborhood group structure. Supported by $1.4 million in annual city funding, the system is one of the many quasi-democratic local engagement processes that shape politics in U.S. cities — for better and worse.
For the last half-century, St. Paul’s council system has displayed many of the pros and cons of public engagement and local control, in general a practice that can be a boon to democracy in some contexts and an inflexible hindrance in others. In an era today where change is often difficult — for example, the Abundance discourse — it’s worth pausing to reflect on St. Paul’s local engagement efforts. It’s done some things well, but given the inequality of the current situation across the city’s diverse geography, district councils could be improved in some critical ways.
The local control movement
St. Paul’s district councils emerged in 1975 as part of a planning trend emphasizing local control and community engagement. Then called “citizen participation,” the impulse reflected a reaction to mid-century planning overreach, particularly around urban freeway construction and urban renewal demolition of housing. It also fit into the conversation around bottom-up politics of the civil rights era, and concerns over the future of cities in a rapidly suburbanizing country.
Related: In urban America, abundance framing can actually be a good thing
District councils drew on the federal shift away from direct funds to cities and toward Community Development Block Grants in the mid-1970s. The 1974 passage of a new federal law encouraged the creation of official community groups, and a year later St. Paul’s councils were born.
The early vision laid out laudable aims for the new structure, including “well-informed neighborhoods,” “citizen involvement … channeled into a process which is constructive,” and other improvements to city communication. One early goal was to help people do their own “small area” plans, setting out processes for change to their communities and getting buy-in.
A lot of these ideas were easier said than done. As years went by, in-depth plans and projects became too ambitious and/or expensive to maintain, and they were often left to languish as elected officials and neighbors changed and “turned over.” As city budgets shrank due to shrinking federal and state support, district councils evolved to be less proactive and more reactive. The overall health of groups varied significantly depending on the geography of the community.
That said, having official groups certainly works well for some things, for example, building neighborhood identity and making it appear, at the very least, that people are consulted before change happens. When the small, engaged group is thoughtful about its larger community, the system can be a case study of local good governance.
“Ideally you’re able to, with the city’s help, pull together a system of creating a district council elected to be somewhat representative of the community,” explained Jane Prince, who served for eight years as a city council member on St. Paul’s East Side. “It just felt really good to me that that [the structure] was available in St. Paul.”
Before public office, Prince worked as a city council aide and city staffer, dealing with district councils for decades. She’s a fan of the system, and often used district council votes as a barometer of public opinion.
As she explains it, when she began working for the city in the 1980s, district councils were relatively new. In those early days, the city had planners dedicated to serving district councils, three staff who split up the 17 groups across the city and attended each meeting.
“There was a really good feedback loop in those days,” Prince said. “The system was relatively new when [Mayor George] Latimer came into office, but he was very respectful of it.”
Prince points out that not every mayor or elected official has worked well with the council structure, and the results vary quite a bit.
“There’s a huge variety of factors that can make a district council effective or less effective,” she said. “One of the things we realized in the last 15 years or so is that the district council should do a better job of reaching out to renters and neighbors of color.”
(That’s a common critique of local government groups like this; see also the recent study of Minneapolis “neighborhood group” engagement practices, which often perpetuated already existing inequalities.)
No two councils are the same
In St. Paul’s case, each of the 17 district councils is idiosyncratic. Though they all get annual funding based on a complex formula, typically enough to hire one or maybe two staff, and none of them is exactly like another. There aren’t strict rules or measures by which the councils are evaluated, and other than being supported by a single City Hall staffer, they’re mostly left to their own devices. As a result, some of the city’s district councils languish for years doing very little, while others are continually active with volunteers doing outreach, education, serving on committees or hosting events.
That kind of variability remains a problem.
“I think it was an ahead of its time idea, especially back pre-internet, became a great organizing tool for neighborhoods,” said Amy Brendmoen, who served as St. Paul City Council president from 2018 until 2024.
One of Brendmoen’s first moves when she took her Ward 5 office was to adjust a district council boundary, a process that proved to be more controversial than she had initially thought.
“I don’t regret it,” she admitted, but also pointed out that inflexibility was a problem with the district council structure. Even small changes prove difficult, illustrating a heavy bias toward maintaining the status quo. As a result, she has ideas for improving the system.
“There could be an even better way to do neighborhood engagement that provided some continuity and similar expectations to neighbors,” Brendmoen offered. “For example, could they have similar website formats? Could they have shared health insurance plans? Could they share costs for different things? It’s a horribly inefficient system.”
Brendmoen points to another problem that emerges from the lack of transparency around district councils. In some cases, district councils become so negatively polarized against government officials that, in effect, city funds end up creating opposition to its own efforts. For example, there might be an ambitious plan, policy or service proposal put forward by a hypothetical mayor. If district councils launch campaigns against them, it’s as if the city is creating its own road blocks to change.
“It’s a sign of the times, but some of the district councils are really very political,” Brendmoen said. “That can be useful, but it’s also difficult for council members and elected officials who happen to work in those areas. [District councils] have a blurry line around the city-funded work [versus] the political work that they’re doing. I do think it should be clear that, if you’re going to be an advocacy organization, you’re not also the district council.”
Personally, I’ve more than once witnessed unrepresentative groups of people at district council meetings — typically a handful of older homeowners — use neighborhood groups to subvert city plans or policies. With the legitimacy as an official neighborhood group, a tiny group of people can prevent change that might benefit thousands. Those who do show up are often already the most privileged people in the neighborhood.
Related: Minnesota Homeownership Center’s new president wants the state’s racial gaps gone
This is because, in general, the level of “democracy” within district councils and similar groups leaves a lot to be desired. District council board elections are often informal, with infinitesimal “turnout.” Years ago in Minneapolis, for example, elections in neighborhoods around universities were deliberately planned to disenfranchise students. Thankfully, since then there have been a lot of useful reforms around university neighborhoods.
All in all, nobody is likely to change the system anytime soon. In Minneapolis, for example, a policy that might have upended the existing “neighborhood group” structure proved to be politically toxic after advocates protested mightily.
“Most [district councils] have hired somewhat professional executive directors, people who know how to raise money and apply for grants,” Prince said. “Some don’t, and some neighborhoods probably at any given time are struggling and not getting the attention they need. It’s by no means a perfect system, but it gives neighborhoods in St. Paul a way to organize where they can be heard.”
If St. Paul is going to keep its district council structure in place, then it makes sense to tweak it, for example, by making the groups larger or more streamlined. I hope that the next 50 years allows for more flexibility and transparency than the last.
When they work well, and do the difficult job of reaching out to renters and less engaged residents, district councils make the city work for the better.
The post At age 50, assessing the pros and cons of St. Paul’s district council system appeared first on MinnPost.
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