Can an older home be remodeled into a McMansion?

Teardown McMansions are common but here is a less common scenario: an older home remodeled into what a neighbor claims is a McMansion. Here is the original complaint:

About four weeks ago, this project began with a slow stripping of the original cape on the site. The stripping got all the way down to just the chimney and a few original 2x4s. But in a week — boom! — a giant plywood box erupted as if from nowhere totally around and above the old house’s frame.

Why wasn’t the original modest house just razed? Surely it would have been easier for the builder just to get the old house completely out of the way first. Could there be a builder-friendly municipal regulation that gives special tax treatment to the builder of a “remodel” instead of a “new build?” Are builders being permitted to perpetuate a fiction of remodeling for lower taxes while really building anew for higher profits?

A believer in personal property rights, I don’t begrudge property owners (even speculating builders) to do as they wish on their own land. I accept that McMansions are now an unfortunate fact of Princeton life, even if I don’t like the crass, in-our-face, beggar-the-neighborhood architectural “lifestyle” expressions that some of them egotistically manifest.

As a local taxpayer, however, I (and many others) would have a big problem with any municipal sweetheart arrangements with the builders of these whales, permitting them by some perverse incentive to pay less than their fair share of local taxes on such imaginary “remodels.”

And then a reminder in the comments that people have been adding to houses for a long time:

There is no sweetheart deal going on. Working off of an existing foundation does simplify the permitting process because you are rebuilding or adding on to the “existing” house.

If you tear down the old house including the foundation you start off with a completely new house. This requires a new house permitting process. This may take time and money. Possibly hearings with public input if variances are required.

You might also want to take a tour of Princeton’s old houses. As happens today, houses were expanded and added to as families grew or as the family was able to afford more house. The issue was no different 200 years ago as it is today.

There is also a lot of pressure to preserve open space which restricts any kind of building which then puts pressure on rebuilding in existing areas.

Without knowing more details of this particular situation, it is hard to know whether this is a big remodel or an intention end-run against zoning regulations that make it difficult to build teardown McMansions. Is this a tactic that could be pursued elsewhere? I assume there are also some limits, or at least necessary permits, to remodeling so municipalities could respond by tightening those rules.

Additionally, one marker of a McMansion is a garish facade. If the remodeling is primarily done on the interior or the additions are to the back, this could mean the front still looks like a more traditional older home. The home could still be a McMansion due to its relative size compared to its neighbors but it may not appear from the front to be as much of a McMansion as other homes.

Online discussion of how to avoid selling a home to someone who will build a teardown McMansion

I ran into an interesting online discussion originating out of the North Center neighborhood in Chicago: how can a seller keep their home from becoming a teardown McMansion? Here is the discussion starter:

To my wonderful North Center Neighbors,

My partner & I will be selling our late, well built, 2 bedrm late 1800’s home in a few months( through Baird Warner-realtors need not contact me). We have lived here for 20 yrs, and love North Center with all of it’s old homes & history, which seems to be on the endangered list, becoming prey to developers of McMansions. So…my question is this; Is there a way to ensure(legally) we don’t sell to a developer, or sell to someone who would want to do a tear down? I am a firm believer in preserving & protecting our well built old homes, which also serves to lessen the impact on the environment.

Thank you in advance for any insight.

Here are a few of the responses (separate responses in each paragraph):

No, unless it’s a landmarked property, people can do whatever they want. The good news is, many people WANT a sweet old house with a yard and will not McMansion a home if it’s a solid, well-functioning property. Good luck with your sale!

You could do a restrictive covenant. A restrictive covenant is a type of real covenant, a legal obligation imposed in a deed by the seller upon the buyer of real estate to do or not to do something. Such restrictions frequently “run with the land” and are enforceable on subsequent buyers of the property.

Yes, restrictive covenant is an option but it will decrease your ability to sell. As said, the covenant runs with the land so not only does it restrict next owner but it will also restrict future owners as well. So this will significantly bring down the sales price. I’ve actually not heard of this being done in a sale situation, just through estates and gifts of land. My guess is that your lawyer will recommend against it. However, you could discuss putting conditions in the real estate contract (which only run to the next owner). Talk to the lawyer you intend to use for the sale.

Another solution is mentioned by another commentator: blocks or neighborhoods could enact or argue for particular zoning rules that could limit what kind of teardown home could be built. Of course, it takes more work to get a lot of neighbors to agree and then have the powers-that-be put the new restrictions into practice.

I suppose another option would be to rent the current home and purchase elsewhere. Thus, the current owner still retains some control over the property even though they would then have to manage it.

Thinking more broadly, I wonder how many Americans would go the extra step to try to preserve their existing house. I suspect most Americans tend to see their homes more as temporary housing solutions rather than structures they really care about and would want to preserve for future generations. This could be a function of having suburban neighborhoods where homes may be somewhat interchangeable, an American interest in mobility, or a rise in disposable consumerism where more goods are seen as temporary.

Can a “gigantic luxury house” meet LEED standards?

Kain Benfield recaps an argument that LEED standards may really no be up to par if they big houses can obtain the awards:

In particular, did you know that this latest LEED-Platinum home – the highest rating bestowed by the Green Building Council, in theory only for the very greenest of green buildings – is nearly three times the size of the average new American home?  Would you be surprised to learn that it sits on a lot occupying two-thirds of an acre, consuming nearly twice as much land as the average new-home lot in a US metro area?  How about that it is located in a “gated community” on the far outskirts of Las Vegas (Mike Tyson is a fellow resident), 1.2 miles to the nearest transit stop?  Or that its Walk Score is a miserable 38 out of a possible 100 points?…

The building in question is the latest in a series of showcase homes featured by The National Association of Home Builders every year during its annual trade show.  It’s called “The New American Home” and the idea is to celebrate and publicize the state of the art in American homebuilding.  This one has 6,721 square feet of floor space, nine bathrooms (but only three bedrooms, plus a home office and library), and extensive “water features.”  The house also includes 17,261 square feet of “outdoor living space.”  (The average size of a newly completed American, single-family home in 2011 was 2480 square feet.)…

All this means that a household living in the New American Home, all things considered, is as likely to be brown as green in its environmental performance if the measure of that performance is determined by a full accounting of the home’s characteristics, no matter how many efficiency gizmos are built into it…

In other words, since we can’t stop people from building trophy houses in the desert even if we wanted to, we should at least encourage them to build those trophy houses a little better:  if you’re determined to build a house almost three times bigger than the average American house, in a gated luxury subdivision where you have to drive long distances to do anything, it’s better to do so with green technology than not.

But, come on, platinum?  The Seven Hills development wouldn’t come close to qualifying for a certification under LEED for Neighborhood Development, which takes location and neighborhood design into account as well as building technology.  LEED-ND includes a prerequisite that a development applying for a rating, even at the lowest level, include certified green buildings.  As a leader of the environmental groups involved in constructing that system, I supported that prerequisite.  I wanted us to create a system that defined and encouraged smart growth; it’s my belief that, in this day and age, smart growth isn’t really smart unless it includes green buildings.

I’ve wondered about this myself – it seems like the context in which the house is located should matter.

But, I still think there is a bigger issue here that bothers some people: how can a really large house, in this case just over 6,700 square feet, ever really be considered green, even with all of the green bells and whistles as well as the greener context, when that amount of space is simply unnecessary and wasteful.

From modest homes in a Canadian prairie town to McMansions

R.J. Snell returned to the Canadian prairie town of his youth and was surprised to find that its modest homes had been replaced with McMansions:

Having just returned from a two-week visit, I’m struck by the visible demise of modest restraint, particularly in the homes. Driving about the countryside, for this is what one does there, I saw many new homes of a preposterous scale, many thousands of square feet (one even had an outbuilding to house all the mechanicals), with multiple garrets and turrets, all jutting conspicuously from the fields and into my purview. They could not be hidden, nor were they meant to, and on the treeless flatness were visible for great distances.

Right beside them, sometimes just across the road, stood the old farmhouse, diminutive, overshadowed. In the towns, a kind of segregation had taken place, with the older neighborhoods a mix of homes smaller or larger (but of a kind), but new developments on the far side of town housing looming monstrosities dwarfing the older places.

This was not neighborly. This was not modest. This was a thumbing of the nose at those with less, a demand to be noticed, seen.  Roger Scruton writes of the bad manners of much contemporary architecture compared with older patterns, saying:

The principal concern of the architects was to fit in to an existing urban fabric, to achieve local symmetry within the context of a historically given settlement. No greater aesthetic catastrophe has struck our cities—European just as much as American—than the modernist idea that a building should stand out from its surroundings, to become a declaration of its own originality. As much as the home, cities depend upon good manners; and good manners require the modest accommodation to neighbors rather than the arrogant assertion of apartness.

Rod Dreher follows up with an interesting question:

The question is, did money cause this cultural revolution in domestic architecture, or did the arrival of wealth happen to coincide with a cultural revolution in the way people thought about themselves and their desires, causing them to build their houses in a certain way now as opposed to then?

Which comes first: the cultural values or the material conditions? If looking at this from the production perspective in the sociology of culture, changes in material conditions like how architects are viewed, how single-family homes are viewed (as Snell suggests, should homes fit into the neighborhood or stick out?), how houses are constructed, how the real estate business operate, how zoning laws and local regulation encourage or discourage larger homes, etc. In other words, architectural styles or consumer desires don’t just change because individuals desire this. Rather, they change in conjunction with material and cultural change.

I also wonder about larger factors affecting this community. Where did residents get this money to spend on bigger houses? I ask this after lecturing this week about the Ferdinand Tonnies’ ideas about gemeinschaft and gesellschaft as well as Emile Durkheim’s concepts of mechanical and organic solidarity. Both theorists were interested in the shift from small town life to more urban life. Both suggested urban life contained fewer strong interpersonal relationships and systems where people were joined together by interdependence and external constraints rather than tradition, family ties, and shared values. Is a similar process taking place in this prairie town, perhaps through suburbanization or the rise of a good nearby job source or the Internet which opens up more possibilities for residents to connect to the outside world?

Trade in a McMansion…for a mid-century pre-fab modern home?

One blogger suggests she would rather have a mid-20th century prefab modern home than the new McMansions going up around her:

I’ve never been a fan of “McMansion” houses. They have spread across this country like a plague and have taken away from the unique architectural style of certain regional areas. For example, where I live in New England, we’ve always been known for capes, ranches, split levels and the colonial style of older homes. McMansions have no business being here. And yet, every time I see a parcel of land become available around here and a new home going up, it’s always a McMansion. Always. No offense to anyone who lives in one, but I fail to comprehend their appeal–they’re unnecessarily huge, expensive, lack any uniqueness and stick out like sore thumbs. And yet this behemoth has been nothing but successful since it first sprouted up in the 80s.

Now that my rant is done, I’d like to turn your attention to the humble mid-century modern home. Ahhhh…aren’t these great to look at? National Homes was at one time one of the country’s largest providers of pre-fab homes. It was founded in 1940 and by 1963, had built 250,000 homes across the U.S. I think these houses are beeeeeooootiful. What I wouldn’t give to find a little ranch with a carport and white fence for the right price in my area like the one in the ad above. And the designs were customizable and affordable. If only they’d make a comeback…

The complaints about McMansions are not unusual. Compared to the McMansion, the modern home is smaller, has a carport (which is less ostentatious than the multi-car garages many McMansions have), has only one story, and has a nostalgic appeal. However, I’m not sure the modern pre-fab home would be considered beautiful. Is it built with more quality or design that today’s McMansions? How many other Americans would also choose modern homes over McMansions?

If someone really wanted to go retro and avoid the McMansion, why not go back further to homes that didn’t require mass production or pre-fab pieces? This would require going back to pre-World War II era and finding homes that were constructed by smaller builders in more traditional styles.

 

Living in a more isolated neighborhood of McMansions could limit how long you live?

In discussing a recent piece  from sociologist Eric Klinenberg about how cities can better prepare for climate change and natural disasters, MarketWatch jumps to an odd conclusion about McMansions and longevity:

As politicians and civil servants study how to prepare communities for the possible effects of future disasters or climate change, Klinenberg writes, they’re taking social infrastructure into account. And while it’s tricky to extrapolate broader lessons from these very specific situations, Klinenberg’s work does seem to reinforce the broader point that, for older people, social isolation can become a health threat in its own right. For the baby boomer trying to decide between a “Main Street” condo and a McMansion, or a retirement community and a farmhouse, it’s food for thought.

I don’t understand why a McMansion is mentioned here. The suggestion does fit with general stereotypes that neighborhoods of McMansions tend to be antisocial places where wealthy suburbanites only want to retreat to their electronics and nuclear families rather than engage the broader world. Critics suggest McMansions are all about privatization and not engaging with others. Hence, solutions to McMansions and sprawl such as New Urbanism tend to design things in such a way to encourage more interaction.

But, this connection doesn’t necessarily fit with Klinenberg’s analysis of the 1995 heat wave in Chicago. McMansions tend to be located in wealthier areas where people have the resources to access other forms of social support. In other words, would you be better off in a dense urban neighborhood with a strong social infrastructure or a looser suburban neighborhood with more money? Also, do a McMansion and a farmhouse really fit in the same category for isolation?

In the end, I would like to see data that people living in McMansions suffer in terms of longevity because of their houses and neighborhoods as compared to other settings.

New alternative to McMansions: “post-recession houses”

A number of builders and architects have proposed alternatives to the McMansion but I recently ran into another term: “post-recession houses.” Here is a description of what such homes are about in Tennessee:

Powell expects houses in the Village section, which will range from 2,800 to 3,400 square feet, to appeal to young families and to older couples who are downsizing.

There, Woodridge Homes is building what company founder Lloyd Craig describes as the “post-recession house” with less square footage than the McMansions that were once popular but with high-quality finishes.

“The recession made all of us realize that more is not necessarily better. Bigger is not necessarily better,” said Craig.

Woodridge’s homes will feature open floor plans that combine the kitchen, dining and living spaces. They will also have walk-in storage, island “breakfast bars” in the kitchen, luxurious master baths and outdoor living spaces.

“People can buy a $375,000 house and have the same amenities as an $800,000 house,” he said.

The “bigger is not better” idea has been popular in recent years. However, two things work against this idea of a “post-recession house” in these new homes:

1. These homes are still larger than the average new American home which is around 2,500 square feet. So while these are not huge houses, they are still larger than normal. Families moving into these homes are still going to have plenty of space.

2. The homes are still going to be luxurious. While they won’t be as large as McMansions, they will still be well appointed. Again, people living in these houses are going to have plenty, though it will come in a smaller size.

To me, it sounds like the idea that these are “post-recession” means they will be slightly smaller and yet won’t skimp on the nicer features. The same critiques that are sometimes leveled at McMansions, that they are bigger than necessary and are about showing off wealth, could still be aimed at these new houses. (Plus, the homes are in a gated community with more expensive homes and nice features such as LED streetlights and a saltwater neighborhood pool.) Is this much of a change? Perhaps we could change the term for the homes to “less obvious McMansions”?

$2.1 million Chicago McMansion would be worse if it was in “the tacky suburbs”

Curbed Chicago takes notes of a listing for a $2.1 million, 9,000 square foot McMansion in the Bridgeport neighborhood. Interesting enough but the first comment for the story is more fascinating:

It looks like it belongs in the tacky suburbs like Hinsdale, Barrington, Highland Park, Naperville, and many more suburbs where the new houses look so hideous. More is not always better. Also, many houses in Bridgeport don’t have trees in front of them so they look even worse as the streets aren’t tree-lined in front of many houses. Trees make any area look so much better.

I guess it could be worse with an aluminum-sided facade. It is at least in the city and not the ugly suburbs. It could be worse.

Here we get a concise summary of what is said to be wrong about McMansions: they are too big and they don’t look good (too much siding, not enough trees). But, the overriding concern here is that McMansions contribute to suburban sprawl. “It is at least in the city” is the Bridgeport home’s only redeeming quality as it then is not contributing to “tacky suburbs.” Of course, these suburbs do indeed have McMansions but there is more to these communities than just their garish homes. For example, Hinsdale and Naperville are known for their money and large homes, both in newer subdivisions as well as teardowns, but each suburb has over 100 years of history, a historic downtown core, train stations for commuting into Chicago, and businesses inside the community or nearby that provide thousands of jobs. In other words, these “tacky suburbs” are not just about McMansions though they may look that way from the city.

Question: “What are some pictures of McMansions that some people find aesthetically pleasing and well designed?”

In contrast to looking for photos of the most garish McMansions, one Quora user ask the opposite question: “What are some pictures of McMansions that some people find aesthetically pleasing and well designed?

This is a fascinating question because it assumes such pictures could be found. The definition of the term itself tends to imply something is wrong with the home: it is too big (absolutely or relative to other nearby homes), it is not designed well, or it is tied to other issues (sprawl, excessive consumption). Beyond that, McMansions could be viewed less as a matter of bad taste and more as morally wrong. There are not too many loud defenders of McMansions though it seems like builders like Toll Brothers, who critics have argued have built such homes for years, are doing okay.

So if people can’t bring themselves to suggest a McMansion is well designed, I wonder if tweaking the question might get better results: “are there McMansions that are less problematic?” If phrased this way, we could place McMansions along a continuum of well designed to poorly designed or better to bad and see the range of possibilities.

Posting your favorite McMansion photos

A discussion board at DC Urban Moms and Dads starts with a simple order: “The last threads about McMansions have been very entertaining — as has been seeing people so worked up one way or the other. Let’s have a good laugh and post your favorite McMansion picture here!” And the results are fascinating. There are a variety of pictures here and the discussion ends up revolving around what exactly makes a McMansion. A number of the traits line up with the four I found in looking at how the term was used over a ten year period in the New York Times and Dallas Morning News.

Here is the photo that several discussants declared the winner among the postings: