The genius of American democracy lies not in the distant capital but in the small town hall. The notion that decisions affecting daily life—schools, roads, zoning—should be made as close as possible to the citizens who live with them is not quaint nostalgia but constitutional principle. That principle is now under siege.
Once again we are back here: Connecticut’s “Fair Share” and transit-oriented development (TOD) proposals, again under discussion in Hartford, would eviscerate local authority by permitting developers to bypass zoning restrictions altogether. Under such statutes, a parcel near the New Canaan train station could sprout a tower of 15 stories without heed to density, height, parking, or neighborhood character. To call this planning is to mock the word.
Since 1989, towns like New Canaan have lived with the strictures of 8-30g, the state law that allows developers to override local zoning if 30 percent of their units are “affordable.” The town responded responsibly: Avalon, Canaan Parish, and other projects were built, granting us moratoria against further impositions. This was not obstructionism but prudence—a balance between meeting state requirements and preserving a livable community.
“Fair Share,” however, discards the balance. It erases the moratorium tool, eliminates local defenses, and hands authority wholesale to developers, whose motives are, understandably, profit—not community. To cloak this in the language of social justice is to confuse the commendable end of affordable housing with the reckless means of dictating from Hartford.
James Madison, in Federalist 45, wrote: “The powers delegated… are few and defined. Those which are to remain in the State governments are numerous and indefinite.” In Connecticut, one level lower, the same principle applies: local government is not ornamental; it is substantive. A zoning board hearing in New Canaan is a form of self-rule every bit as authentic as a session of the General Assembly.
What Hartford proposes is not partnership but commandeering. It suggests that the knowledge of wetlands, traffic choke points, or fire safety possessed by local boards can be dismissed. It would render meaningless the years of planning invested in thoughtful growth, and would reward those who see land not as community but as commodity.
Proponents argue that the state faces a housing crisis. That is true. But crises do not suspend the laws of good governance. Communities have been building incrementally, responsibly. To obliterate that framework in favor of one-size-fits-all diktats is neither wise nor necessary. A blunt state mandate will not only fray the fabric of towns but will ignite the very resistance it seeks to overcome.
The issue is not whether New Canaan welcomes newcomers—it always has. The issue is whether a town has the right to decide how best to integrate growth into its own landscape. The town green, the elementary school, the quiet road—all these are not abstractions but the lived environment of citizens. They are the context in which democracy breathes.
When Tocqueville toured America, he marveled that “the strength of free peoples resides in the township.” Hartford would do well to remember that. To destroy local control in pursuit of a housing mandate is to drain away the strength it imagines it is securing.
New Canaan says this plainly: we are not opposed to housing, but we are opposed to losing the right to govern ourselves.