A 32,000 square foot McMansion?

One aspect of McMasions is that they are large houses. But here is a description of 32,000 square foot home that is called a McMansion:

Coeur d’Alene is interested in all things Hagadone. Even dated things. So I browsed the 20-page, color-photo, online spread in the Robb Report that named Duane Hagadone’s Palm Desert hilltop hideaway as the “2009 Ultimate Home.” Huckleberries has visited Hagadone’s mega-manse before, during the construction phase, when lesser millionaires and townspeople were fighting city approval that allowed the Coeur d’Alene tycoon to construct his 32,000-square-foot McMansion in the viewplane on one of the area’s few buildable hilltops. Now, according to the Robb Report, Hagadone prides himself on having to point out the location of his spread to golfing buddies because the color schemes and the footprint make it hard to see from the plain below. Of all the items featuring Hagadone sizzle enumerated in the article, none impresses Huckleberries more than the three-sided, 4,000-gallon aquarium tunnel leading into the dining area, featuring a shark tank on the ceiling. Mebbe the shark tank is to remind well-heeled Big Fish at Hagadone’s brunches of their humble beginnings.

In my thinking, a 32,000 square foot home is simply a mansion.

So what might make this extra large home a McMansion? Based on this short description, a few possible reasons come to mind:

1. The McMansion idea refers to the recent growth in Couer d’Alene, Idaho. Could this be referring to sprawl and building on one of the areas “buildable hilltops”? (But at the same time, this hints that the home has to be pointed out because it is “hard to see” from below.

2. There is something about the quality or design of the home that is reminiscent of other homes. So it is a big home but more so looks like a copy of other homes, hence the “Mc” prefix.

3. Is this term used just because McMansion is a pejorative term?

 

In defense of larger Australian homes

In 2009, new Australian homes became the largest in the world, beating even new US homes. But while large homes in the United States are sometimes derided as greedy, unnecessary, wasteful, and simply status symbols, data from one Australian survey suggests homebuyers purchase such homes because they want or need the space:

Homeowners are also increasingly happy to trade the traditional back yard for a larger lounge room and home cinema, according to a survey of more than 2500 people by removalists Grace Removals.

Space trumps neighbours and location, with 19 per cent of people saying the best thing about their home is its size, ahead of the suburb they live in (12 per cent) or being close to family and friends (7 per cent). The toilet was named the most important item in the home by 62 per cent of respondents…

But it’s family considerations, rather than status or greed, that is behind the popularity of so-called McMansions, McCrindle Research personal demographer Mark McCrindle says.

“We have a lot more going on in these larger homes,” Mr McCrindle said. “We are trending towards multi-generational households, where you have children living well into adulthood in the family home. We are also seeing more people work or run a business from home.”

I wonder if such an explanation would fly in the United States. It might be hard to make this case as the average size of the American family has decreased even as the average new house size has risen since World War Two.

Will future historic preservation districts include McMansions?

From the concluding portion of a recent column, it appears columnist James Lileks does not like McMansions. But, he also brings up an idea I recently described in discussing how a 1920s suburban home could now be considered authentic and worth preserving:

Everything is historic. Doesn’t mean it’s good; doesn’t mean everything must be preserved ,without exception. But what’s contemporary to you is history to your kids, and hence boring — and a relic of a golden past to the generation after that. Ah, to live long enough to see them fight for the preservation of a ghastly overscale McMansion. It’s the only example of substandard poisonous Chinese drywall we have left!

Just how long might it before McMansions are considered historic homes that are worth saving? And if they are not worth saving, what else might be done with them?

Habitat for Humanity limits foreclosures for lower-income homeowners

Some recent data about Habitat for Humanity suggests that it may still be possible to have lower-income homebuyers without higher risks of default or foreclosure:

A recent study led by the Cox School of Business at Southern Methodist University, which was commissioned by the Dallas branch of Habitat, found that foreclosures in Habitat’s Dallas market were less than 2% last year. Although the report only looked at the Dallas office of Habitat, the findings mirror those found in other Habitat offices across the country, the organization says.

If this data holds up across the country, we should then ask why Habitat owners have such low foreclosure rates. Is it just because Habitat for Humanity has a limited operation each year (a small sample to work with) or is there something about their program that makes a difference?

The article suggests that Habitat’s particular program is what makes the difference: the homebuyers go through “home-ownership education,” there is consistent interaction with Habitat after the home purchase, the purchased homes are relatively modest (not “McMansions”), and Habitat imposing a less punitive late fee for late mortgage payments. One of the study’s authors sums up the impact of what Habitat does:

“These are practices that I think any bank should implement, particularly after looking at the foreclosures in the last five years,” said Paul Hendershot, lead author of the Dallas Habitat report and an adjunct University of North Texas professor.

It would probably cost quite a bit for lending institutions to adopt the practices of Habitat for Humanity for each mortgage holder. While the up-front costs are prohibitive, the lenders would save down the road as homeowners would go through fewer foreclosures.

Are Section 8 vouchers now being used for McMansions?

WalletPop has a story with a provocative opening line: “In what may be one of the strangest twists to the housing market crisis, Section 8 housing tenants are moving from urban housing projects and into high-end condo complexes and single-family McMansions that just a few years ago sold for hundreds of thousands of dollars.” The premise makes some sense: in an unstable housing market with a lot of potential for vacancies and foreclosures, landlords are looking for steady money. While Section 8 users were “treated by landlords as the tenants of last resort” in better times, now landlords are looking for this consistent money from the government.

But as I read this article, I tried to figure out where the McMansions come into play: most of the examples here feature Section 8 users moving into nicer condos or apartments, not large homes out in the suburbs. So are Section 8 vouchers really be used for McMansions, which at the most basic level are large, single-family homes? Does a Section 8 voucher provide enough funding to allow people to live in McMansions, even ones with reduced prices? There is not much information here to back up this assertion although it does sound as though the housing crisis has allowed Section 8 users to access a broader market.

Also, the headline of the article, “Section 8 Tenants: the Housing Market’s Salvation?,” doesn’t really address if there are enough Section 8 vouchers to help the broader housing market. For this to happen, the federal government would need to free up more money for more people in this housing assistance program.

Chicago Tribune calls for phasing out of mortgage-interest deduction

What interesting arguments people will make in the midst of an economic crisis. While one commentator has a number of reasons why he is “never going to own a home again,” the Chicago Tribune argues that the United States needs to phase out the mortgage-interest deduction. The main reason seems to be that the deduction primarily benefits wealthier homeowners, not the middle class:

Trade groups such as the National Association of Home Builders portray the benefit as a middle-class tax break. But it does a lot less for most Americans than those with a vested interest in promoting home sales would have you believe: If you rent, you get nothing. If you have reasons not to itemize deductions, you get nothing. If you pay off your mortgage to live debt-free, you get nothing.

Borrow a fortune for a McMansion, however, and the Internal Revenue Service provides a big discount, at the expense of every other taxpayer. More than three-fourths of the benefit from the mortgage-interest deduction goes to the 14 percent of tax filers reporting six-figure incomes. Almost one-third of the subsidy goes to the population reporting incomes of $200,000 or more. Those 3 percent of tax filers at the very top receive about the same amount as do the 86 percent earning less than six figures.

As a consequence, this deduction does little to promote homeownership — supposedly its main objective. Data suggest that almost no one now benefiting from the break would flee the real-estate market. People just wouldn’t borrow as much to fund home purchases.

What is remarkable to me about both of these arguments is that such arguments might have been unheard of before this economic crisis. But since the economy has gone downhill, the housing market in particular (and the most recent housing figures are not good), desperate times apparently call for desperate measures.

All of this bears watching: will homeownership remain a cornerstone of the American Dream?

From former suburban home to authentic home to be restored

What happens to suburban homes that were once on the outskirts of the big city? One writer describes the 1927 rowhouse she and her husband bought in Jackson Heights (part of Queens, New York City) and their plans to restore it:

Friends warn me this will be a lifelong endeavor. But my husband and I have always preferred houses with some history in them (this is our fifth, and maybe last, transaction). I suspect it’s a rejection of my New Jersey McMansion rearing.

To get a better sense of this house’s past, I turned to Daniel Karatzas, an agent with Beaudoin Realty Group and the local historian. He wrote the book, “Jackson Heights – A Garden in the City,” which sits on our coffee table. Well, it used to. Now it’s in storage.

Our house, Karatzas told me, was designed by Robert Tappan, “one of those unsung architects” who helped develop the neighborhood into a slice of suburbia just a few miles from midtown Manhattan.

“It wasn’t like Frank Lloyd Wright,” says Karatzas. “They were building traditional styles that would appeal to upper middle-class families. They used vernacular architecture. … Tudor, French, Georgian. That made it seem the houses had been there longer than they had.”

The houses on my block first sold for between $24,000 and $28,000. If he had to liken it to a modern-day phenomenon, Karatzas said, our 1920s house might have once been considered like “those McMansions in New Jersey.”

A couple parts of this stick out to me:

1. This neighborhood was once a suburb of New York City. While the home is now 80+ years old, it is still more of a suburban setting. According to this brief history of Jackson Heights, the community was built primarily after World War I, which would have been during a large wave of suburbanization.

Suburban homes generally get a bad name, both today and historically for being relatively cheaply made and looking all the same. Perhaps this is epitomized by the 1962 song “Little Boxes” by Malvina Reynolds – here are the opening lines:

Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky tacky,
Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes all the same.

There’s a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one,
And they’re all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

And yet, with age, some suburban homes can become the sort of authentic homes that people desire. This house has history but it is suburban history. While the realtor suggests this home was probably like a McMansion of the 1920s, the writer is interested in restoring and rehabilitating this home, gold-metal cabinets in the kitchen and all.

2. The primary comparison made is between this new purchase and the McMansion the writer grew up in New Jersey. We don’t quite know why this writer disliked this New Jersey upbringing but it is clear that this new home has more character than that home did. She also suggests that her father is likely puzzled by her decision to move back to Jackson Heights: “Sometimes, I suspect my decision to settle in Jackson Heights puzzles him, since he worked so hard to get out and buy a house in the suburbs.” While one generation viewed a move to the suburbs as a good thing, some people in later generations see a move back to city life (though this is somewhere between city and suburban life) as desirable.

Does this mean that the sort of suburban homes that people now call McMansions may one day be authentic and the sorts of places that others will want to restore? This idea perhaps assumes that Americans will continue to move further and further out from the center of metropolitan regions and then the older suburban homes will age and no longer be on the fringes. What is the long-term fate of McMansions: will they fall apart? By co-opted for other uses (like perhaps being subdivided into multiple units)? Become desirable reminders of the past? Become teardowns themselves and the land put to other uses?

A Houston Chronicle editorial pushes for historic preservation districts

When sociologists talk about urban zoning, Houston is often cited as an example of a city that has had and has little zoning. However, there is a recent debate about instituting the city’s first six historic preservation districts. The Houston Chronicle wrote an editorial supporting these districts as they only affect a small part of the city:

In a council meeting earlier this month, one council member compared city restrictions on property rights to Gestapo tactics.

People, please: We’re not talking about seizure of private property. We’re talking about bungalows, Victorians and Dutch colonials. The new rules don’t say that you can no longer build McMansions or townhouses in Houston — just that you can’t plop them into a historic district. That leaves 99 percent of Houston wide-open.

Tomorrow, council will vote whether to accept the maps for the six most controversial districts, all of which are in the Heights and Montrose.

All six districts survived a postcard referendum that could have obliterated their historic status completely; the only change to the maps is the removal of a single commercial property from Montrose Commons.

Opponents have argued that historic designation will hurt neighborhood property values, but that strains credibility.

It sounds like this battle over historic districts is quite similar to other historic district battles: are there limits to what property owners should be able to do? And as is often the case, these historic districts are proposed because some of these older homes are being torn down to make way for newer homes, the larger ones which are dubbed McMansions.

But the larger issue may be neighborhood change: just how much should any neighborhood be allowed to change in a short period of time? Buildings in a historic district are protected because they are older (perhaps at least 50 years old?). But these questions can also pop up in newer neighborhoods: should a religious building or a park or a gas station be allowed to be built on the corner at the edge of the neighborhood? Should a set of townhouses be built the next street over? What happens if more traffic starts driving down the main street in the neighborhood? The same people who would want the right to build a McMansion in an older part of town after tearing down an old home would also probably not desire an apartment building constructed next door or a garbage facility built a block away.

Where exactly you draw the line between these competing interests is not an easy decision but one that must be made by individual communities.

Florida leads country with 18% home vacancy rate

While foreclosures and vacancies are a problem throughout much of the United States, some states have been hit harder than others. New data from the Census Bureau shows Florida has the highest home vacancy rate in the country:

On Thursday, the Census Bureau revealed that 18% — or 1.6 million — of the Sunshine State’s homes are sitting vacant. That’s a rise of more than 63% over the past 10 years…

The vacancy problem is more dire in Florida than in any other bubble market: In California, only 8% of units were vacant, while Nevada, the state with the nation’s highest foreclosure rate, had about 14% sitting empty. Arizona had a vacancy rate of about 16%.

In Florida, the worst-hit county is Collier — home of Naples — with a whopping 32% of homes empty. In Sarasota County, 23% of the housing stock sits vacant, while Lee County (Cape Coral) has a 30% vacancy rate. And Miami-Dade County has a vacancy rate of about 12%.

The article goes on to say that the problem of vacancies has grown partly due to a slow-down in population growth in the state in the late 2000s. Additionally, the large number of vacancies has helped lower housing values: “The median price for homes sold in January was just $122,000, according to the Florida Association of Realtors. That was down 7% from 12 months earlier and less than half the price at the peak of the market.”

It would be interesting to see new or recent studies that look at how these vacancies impact community and neighborhood life. Beyond the economic impact, how does having a large percentage of empty houses effect interactions that people have with each other?

Also, how exactly are vacancy and foreclosure statistics related? Nevada has the highest level of foreclosures but a lower rate of vacancies – is this because more people have actually gone through the foreclosure process?

(If you want some insights into how the Census Bureau calculates different vacancy rates, see here. This would have been helpful information for an earlier discussion about seemingly different vacancy statistics.)

Subdividing the McMansion into multiple housing units

With many houses around the country in foreclosure, an idea regarding McMansions has popped up in a few places: why not subdivide these large suburban homes into multiple units? A writer for the Sarasota Herald-Tribune brings up this suggestion when reviewing a book about granny-flats:

The only serious omission is any example that would show how the enormous, 4,000-square-foot, 5- or 6-bedroom McMansions that dot the country could be creatively subdivided into separate living units. This strikes me as an obvious move because it would create affordable housing for renters while it would help financially pressed owners to stay in their houses. And the square footage that would be allocated to a granny flat would not be missed — most owners of these big houses have a lot of space they never use.

Litchfield concurred that such conversions seem obvious, but in most cases, he said, suburban residential zoning codes prohibit it.

Several things are interesting in this short section:

1. The McMansion is roughly 4,000 square feet and larger according to this writer.

2. Subdividing the McMansion would benefit multiple parties: the homeowner who could rent out a few units and people who need affordable housing, a particular need in higher-end suburbs where a lot of the available jobs are service or low-paying jobs but there is little nearby housing for such workers.

3. People have so much space in these 4,000+ square foot homes that they won’t really miss the extra space. I wonder if anyone has ever studied this in large homes: how much of the space is regularly used or even filled with furniture or storage? Is this really unused space or is this just the perception?

4. Zoning codes generally are against this idea as single-family home districts typically restrict the creation of multiple units out of single units. Once renters are in a neighborhood, people often have the impression that the neighborhood has changed: renters don’t care as much about keeping up the property, renters are different types of people than homeowners (sometimes hinting at class or race concerns), etc. But if converting larger homes into multiple units helps stave off foreclosures, should communities allow renting rather than contributing to empty houses in empty neighborhoods (which brings on its own set of issues)?