much we can actually do at a global level, barring a unified world order or some undreamt of technological breakthrough. In truth, there's no such thing as the quick, global fix. The global condition is too multi-dimensional to respond to slam-bang solutions. It will only be through a multitude of diverse, localized strategies, each carried out with awareness of its larger context, that we will come together to alter the course of the planet in the next 20 years. As Rene Dubos first said, we must think globally and act locally. In Toronto in 1980, the First Global Conference on the Future—the largest international symposium on the human prospect to date—chose as its theme Dubos' simple maxim. It was by no means a coincidence. The trend toward localization, though still something of a dark horse, is becoming every bit as important as the trend headed in the opposite direction. "What is happening," said conference speaker and futurist Roy Amara, "is that we are beginning to tackle problems at grass-roots levels, restructuring institutions with which we are directly in contact, initiating changes from the bottom up. In fact, participatory movements of all kinds— the world over—are likely to become one of the dominant transforming forces in the remainder of the 20th century." Another conference participant, Bruce Stokes of the Worldwatch Institute, has since then authored a book. Helping Ourselves: Local Solutions to Global Problems, that begins to give measure to this new trend. Local self-help, first and foremost, is cited as the natural response of individuals and communities to make ends meet, gain a sense of control, or merely survive in a world gone awry with unsettling changes. After all, it is on the local level, as Stokes points out, that the consequences of global problems are the most obvious, the motivation to solve them most direct, and the benefits of action most immediate. When hundreds and thousands of such localized actions take place—as is now beginning to happen—larger solutions emerge; weatherization to cut energy costs at home becomes one of society's cheapest "new" sources of energy; housing rehabilitation and neighborhood revitalization create affordable alternatives to expensive new suburban development and continued urban sprawl; community gardens and local food buying clubs reduce food importation and avoid unnecessary processing and transportation costs; carpools and alternatives to driving cut back on air pollution and reduce the need to import oil. For these and a host of other community self-help activities, the aggregate impact is to reduce the escalating demand for resources that feeds the existing global condition. More important, perhaps, all these actions work together to reinforce self-determination at the local level. People exercise greater control over their lives. Communities become more self-reliant. The world is not nearly so intimidating a place. We can look forward again to the year 2000. The Evolving Portland Vision Portland already has a certain tradition for looking forward. This was symbolized in its early days by its experience with such visionary planners as John Olmstead and Edward Bennett. But their elaborate visions were, unfortunately, seldom realized, and the city's growth and change over the years was haphazardly inspired by profit and ambition. In 1938, an important juncture in American history, Lewis Mum- ford visited the area and cautioned Portlanders to plan more wisely for their future. "You have a basis here for civilization on its highest scale," he said. "Are you good enough to have this country in your possession?" But Mumford, who once said that freeways could only widen chaos, was spurned in favor of the prophets of mobility. In 1943, Portland adopted the city plan of mega-developer Robert Moses. As historian Dick Pintarich notes, the Moses plan was not intended to make Portland livable as much as to make it driveable. As a result, Portland in the postwar era was ringed with freeways and massive bridges as the nation took to wheels on inexpensive gas. By the 1970s, however, the free ride came squealing to a halt, as area neighborhoods rose up to fight the blatant destruction imposed upon them by freeway construction. Some large projects were abandoned in their entirety. Amid signs that rapid, unplanned growth was whittling away at the region's quality of life, a new resolve to plan ahead and think long range began to appear. A great deal of this spirit emanated from Portland City Hall, but it also involved citizens' task forces, neighborhood activists, historians.
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