Ethics: Not In My Backyard, You Don't

Call it the NIMBY syndrome. It is happening in New York City, where middle- class homeowners are on trial on charges of setting fire to a foster home for infants. In tiny Louisa, Ky., it is the battle cry against a proposed hazardous-waste incinerator. It has cropped up in Berkeley, where residents banded together to keep out a drop-in center for the emotionally disturbed. The acronym stands for "not in my backyard," and it symbolizes a perverse form of antisocial activism. "Everybody says, 'Take care of the homeless, take care of the boarder babies,' " says New York City Mayor Edward Koch. "But when you need a facility, they say, 'Not in my backyard.' "

Such problems are growing because there are more homeless, more AIDS victims, more drug addicts, more prisoners, more garbage, more toxic waste. The result is budget-busting pressure for more services that many people do not want in their vicinity. But beyond the fiscal debate, there is a painful ethical dilemma for many communities: Who should bear the burden of the common good? As often as not, neighborhoods are rising up to resist responsibility, and in some cases are turning to violence. "Too often we assume that the human being can achieve a good life without attending to the collective good," says Dr. Willard Gaylin, head of the Hastings Center for ethics in Briarcliff, N.Y.

In April 1987 the tranquillity of Gladwin Avenue, in the Queens section of New York City, was shattered when a fire erupted in a two-story house that the city had rented to use as a foster home. Today five respected citizens who live on the block each face up to 25 years in prison if they are convicted of arson. "These are nice middle-class people, not hoodlums," says Defense Lawyer Jacob Evseroff.

Gladwin Avenue is white. The foster children and the workers who care for them are black. Local residents, many of whom joined in a lawsuit against the home, fretted about falling property values; others argued that the babies' visiting relatives might commit crimes. "They don't belong here," says Mary Meyer, a retired waitress. "The city pushed this down our throats." That sense of alienation was accentuated by the city's failure to hold public hearings or educate the neighborhood about its plans. "It's a racial issue, but it's also a political issue, an economic issue, a class issue and a fear issue," says R. Susan Motley, a city official.

The element of fear is understandable for families that have saved for years to buy a home. Who wants a garbage dump next door? Or wants to invite recovering drug addicts to walk their sidewalks? "Put it in Nancy Reagan's backyard!" was the shrill cry when neighbors demonstrated against a proposed drug treatment center in California's San Fernando Valley. While many worries may be unfounded, experts believe planners and politicians must address the emotions people develop in such situations. Perry Norton, an emeritus professor of urban planning at New York University, advocates tax abatements for homeowners who live near an undesirable public facility, or a guarantee on the resale value of their homes.