Thank You, Private Property Rights Obsessers.

At the state level, the 2006 elections in Arizona weren't only about the anti-marriage equality amendment (Proposition 107, narrowly defeated). Proposition 207 was a ghastly bit of legislation that was cheerfully dumbed down to "no gummint meddlin' in whut ah kin do with muh own private property" in order to appeal to the braindead masses. It was framed as a safeguard against eminent domain; maybe the recent memory of Kelo scared people into supporting it without a shred of critical thought about the impact on communities when local governments are stripped of their authority to create zoning ordinances.

Who ultimately benefits from a law saying that if government restrictions on property use devalue your property, they gotta compensate you for it? Pretty much not the average homeowner. Real estate developers, however, make out like bandits. A recently arising scourge of neighborhoods in Tucson near the University of Arizona is something called the minidorm. A developer buys a house in a single-family residential area, bulldozes it, and slaps up the largest multi-bedroom building he can (albeit with a single entryway to avoid designation as an apartment), and rents it to as many undergrads as can be crammed in. These are problematic for several reasons, ranging from aesthetics to parking to noise to trash. If you have the misfortune to live next to a property that's been snapped up and converted like this, you can kiss your immediate peace and your long-term equity goodbye.

Even historic districts are no longer immune, thanks to Prop 207. Local governments are terrified of crippling lawsuits that may be brought by developers who will argue that neighborhood zoning restrictions illegally prevent them from maximizing the financial potential of their properties. The City of Tucson's response is to propose architectural guidelines that will minimize the eyesore effect, and to offer incentives to builders to locate the minidorms along major arterials rather than the quieter interior neighborhood streets. These are only cosmetic touches, though, that give very little teeth to neighborhoods interested in retaining their single-family residential character.

Two minidorms have already popped up down the street in the historic district where I live, including one that was built after the historic bungalow occupying the property was razed. My next door neighbor occupies a prime oversized corner lot. And he's 85. I try not to think too hard about what will happen to his property when he dies, because if a minidorm goes in I will not be able to tolerate living there, and will be unable to sell my house for what it's worth. Or what it was worth before 207 took effect.

Maybe that's the solution--filing a countersuit claiming damages from the city government for the property devaluation suffered due to their refusal to enact zoning laws. Way to go, private property screechers. You've preserved property values for real estate developers and eliminated protections for average property owners. Here's a little hint for y'all: government regulation of property use isn't always a bad thing.