Too Big

So much of the conversation at East Hampton Town Hall centers on “preserving the community’s character.” What, precisely, does that mean?

Does East Hampton’s character trace its roots to 1648 and the original idea of a small cluster of dwellings and businesses, dependent on the land and water around them for life and purpose? Is it about peace and quiet? Is it about architecture or culture? Should there be a nod to the fact that it’s become an enclave of wealth, with median property values seven times the national average? Is affluence an element of character?

This isn’t merely an exercise: It should really be at the heart of the debate over the proposed zoning code changes currently being considered by the Town Board. Those changes, the product of a year of study by a working group, are meant to close some loopholes that allow massive structures, which are largely heading underground to avoid zoning restrictions on the surface.

The proposed limits are still, by any measure, shockingly generous. The biggest change would halve the overall cap on house size — from 20,000 to 10,000 square feet. In this country, most “mansions” are between 8,000 and 10,000 square feet; the number larger than that is so small it’s hard to even find one online. It’s hard to imagine anyone “needs” more than 10,000 square feet — it’s literally superfluous.

Meanwhile, the new code wouldn’t allow basements to sprawl beyond the footprint of the first floor, nor have more than one level. The height of a basement would be “limited” to 15 feet — the typical height of a cathedral ceiling at its peak. Only when expectations are completely out of whack would a 15-foot basement ceiling feel constricting. And the water table makes a great deal of this irrelevant.

There are many other aspects to the new proposal, but it’s really rooted in the simple concept that there exists something called “too big.” Too big for what? Certainly not for someone’s personal resources, or ego. But the answer is: It’s too big for a community’s character. Which, after all, we are supposed to be desperately trying to protect, as everyone agrees.

The construction and real estate communities can’t be blamed for barking — both are built on customer satisfaction, and bigger projects simply mean more revenue, more income. But perhaps when it comes to a community’s true character, the voice of someone like Jaine Mehring, who has insistently nudged the town in the direction of curbing monster houses after seeing the impact while walking her dog in its neighborhoods, should carry a little more weight.

Without question, the part-time resident with money to spend matters — the town’s economy is largely based on her. But she is buying into this community for a reason. Let’s call it “character.” If, finally, that character is nothing but monuments to wealth, replacing houses with actual working families and children in school, that is simply a place that embodies a motto: “Too much is never enough.” The wealth overwhelms the character and smothers it.

There is a new concern, that the new rules will force all that demand for subterranean space above ground, perhaps worsening the very problem you’re trying to fix. That suggests growth that’s truly out of control. Restricting it isn’t just a wise thing to do, it’s essential — if any character at all is to survive.