Duke was dealt a setback-or a "hiccup," to be precise-this week when the Durham Planning Commission voted against changing Central Campus' zoning designation from "residential" to the more flexible "university-college."
In fact, Duke's plan was torpedoed by a coalition of activists and businesspeople who want to prevent a "private retail Shangri La" on the new Central Campus.
Given their interests, it's easy to see why these local merchants and neighbors might be opposed: In 2005, our 12,085 total students spent an estimated $92.5 million off campus, and visitors chipped in an additional $325 million to the local economy. Clearly, an on-campus retail operation threatens their Duke-guaranteed profit margins, which accounted for fully 30 percent of municipal Durham's total 2004-2005 retail sales.
But what's surprising (and disheartening) is community members' deeply flawed argument against the Central redevelopment: They primarily object to Duke "taking unfair and perhaps illegal advantage of their tax-exempt status" to construct a retail operation.
Along these lines, another Durham resident notes, "the fact that [Duke doesn't] pay taxes has a big effect on the tax bill of those of us who do. What would Durham's budget be like-meaning how low would taxes be. if the biggest landowner and employer in the county paid taxes like other companies?"
Like this Durhamite, I wanted to know.
So I started with the $7.4 million Duke actually paid Durham in property taxes for fiscal year 2004-2005. As it turns out, we shoulder a hefty tax bill for University-owned properties not used primarily for educational purposes, and we lease fully 27 percent of the office space in Durham.
Of course, $7.4 million hardly offsets the fact that we're sitting on 8,709 acres of tax-exempt heaven (also known as the Duke Forest).
But the situation becomes less alarming when you consider the $57 million we donated to the community in 2004-2005, including $46 million in uncompensated medical care, which primarily benefits Durham County residents.
Add to this the $16 million that we spend annually to maintain municipal-type services like bus routes, roads, water, sewer operations and our Police Department.
Then throw in the $842 million in wages and benefits paid to employees for 2004-2005 (which are subject to state and local income tax rates between 6 and 8.25 percent), and it's suddenly hard to tell who's free-riding whom.
Is it Duke, since we're supposedly taking advantage of our non-profit status to build a lucrative strip-mall on campus?
Or could it be Durham residents, who benefit handsomely from the University's economic engine even as they lodge Internet-based protests against our plans to build "three restaurants, an on-campus bookstore with a coffee shop, a performing arts center, a 99-room hotel, a Duke apparel store and a bowling alley?"
To be fair, this conflict is not specific to Duke and Durham: Yale made news this month when it chose to commit $470 million "in lieu of taxes" to New Haven, Conn. over the next 50 years. Indeed, the Yale Herald called the University's 2006 contribution, which totaled $4.2 million, the "largest payment by a non-profit to any city in the country."
Clearly, Yale's commitment offers an innovative way to bridge the town-gown divide. And considering the Durham community's apparent dissatisfaction with existing agreements between Duke and the city, we, too, might consider offering even more explicit support for Durham municipal services.
But it's also clear that Duke's so-called advantage as a tax-exempt institution is less significant than some would have us believe; by the time we've finished donating free medical services and dispensed assorted other acts of charity (not the least of which is the $12-million Duke-Durham Neighborhood Partnership), we offer the Durham community much more than we take.
That's why I hope that we will not allow a small (if nonetheless vocal) group of community activists to continue skewing the debate over Central Campus: These business owners have 92.5 million good reasons to continue lobbying Duke and Durham officials.
When they do, I certainly hope that students' needs-which are best served by more on-campus development-will not get lost in the fray.
And let's be clear: We're only talking about building 50,000 sq. ft. of retail space, with no single store exceeding 20,000 square feet-approximately the size of an Eckerd's. This hardly constitutes a "retail cocoon for students and faculty and staff."
Indeed, we need only drive 10 minutes to behold a real student-centered business district. It's called Franklin Street.
Kristin Butler is a Trinity junior. Her column runs every Friday.
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