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Are we really worried about growth? Or is it something else?

Published 26-Sep-1995 in the Denver Post
Copyright ©1995 by Ed Quillen. All rights reserved.

Survey after survey reveals that the problem we Coloradans most fret about is growth. Not crime, not transportation, not education -- but growth.

This invites some contemplation. Most of us grew up when bigger was better, and growth represented opportunity: jobs for your children, a chance for advancement or promotion in your own career, more choice of goods and services within convenient range, that sort of thing.

So why is it that we see growth as a threat to all that we hold dear, rather than as a chance to improve our lot?

The answer might lie in what I'll call the Western Experience. Imagine a band of Arapaho camped at the mouth of Cherry Creek in 1858.

The Arapaho were traders. More people passing through their territory would give them more goods to trade and more people to trade with.

They weren't above luring a guest into some games of chance which left the visitor somewhat impoverished (reservation gambling represents, in some respects, the continuation of certain Native American traditions). And they sometimes sold the carnal services of their womenfolk, which also represented a chance to prosper from growth.

And so, the Arapaho might have seen the arrival of gold-seekers, not as a threat, but as an opportunity to better their lot in many respects: more customers for prostitution, more horses to steal, more clientele for their wagering, more beads and iron kettles available for barter.

As it turned out, the Arapaho were nearly exterminated. Those who survived Sand Creek in 1864 were hauled off to reservations in Oklahoma.

What confronted them in 1858 was not growth, but an invasion. Mere growth would have meant more people living pretty much as the Arapaho did, and living by Arapaho rules and standards at that.

What they got instead was an influx of folks who made their own rules concerning things like land ownership. The convention of hunting grounds, and of giving presents in exchange for safe passage, was replaced by things like mining claims and homesteads.

In other words, the Arapaho lost all control over the situation. In 1858, they might have been dealing with growth; by 1864, they were being chased by soldiers, and it was an occasion for the militia if the Arapaho even tried to camp where they had camped for generations.

Bring this forward to current times, and it might explain why Coloradans so fear growth. It should represent an opportunity, but if the growth takes the form of an invasion by people who play by different rules, then there's every chance that the new people will persuade the federal authorities to come after you if you camp in the wrong place -- even if you've been camping there for years.

To put it another way, we can handle more people who know how to close gates behind them (or, more properly, to leave a gate the way you found it). But if we get an invasion of folks who don't know that, they'll think there's something wrong with the law if the sheriff arrests them for allowing someone's livestock to stray.

If there are enough of them, they'll change the law. And it gets that much harder for the livestock operator to operate.

Many mountain communities, backwaters a mere decade ago, are experiencing growth in 35-acre ranchettes. There used to be an understanding that, if you wanted to live off in the woods, you were lucky if REA ran electricity to you. You managed with a pump and a privy alongside a rough county road that might not get plowed for days after a storm, and if you had an eight-party line, well, it was better than nothing. And since the sheriff didn't patrol all that often, you kept a .30-30 handy.

A rural county could handle that sort of growth indefinitely. But if the newcomers want their roads plowed frequently, and the sheriff to come quickly if little Jason was traumatized after seeing a neighbor urinate from his front porch, and a state-of-the-art telephone connection, and indoor plumbing, and various other accouterments of civilization, then the influx is not mere growth -- it's an invasion which changes the rules.

We were once content to leave self-esteem out of the school curriculum, but this is a democratic society, and if enough voters arrive, then it will be there, whether we want to pay for it or not. We could once confront our neighbors directly if we didn't like their fences or their gardens; now the neighbor is likely to say see you in court.

This analysis could continue indefinitely. The point that seems important is that it isn't growth per se that appears so threatening, but the nature of the influx. In other words, we'd have similar problems and fears if half the resident population were removed and replaced with wealthy newcomers. It isn't the size of the population, but its attitudes, that seems so hard to cope with.

The Arapaho could have coped with many more traders and trappers who were willing to deal with them on their own terms. They couldn't cope with people who brought their own terms, and the Arapaho are gone.

This is a plea to the people who conduct surveys. Next time you're asking about growth, ask people what they're really worried about. I bet it isn't quantity, but quality.


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