Learning from the Past: What Historic Villages Can Teach Us About Modern Zoning
Two of my earliest professors shaped how I see places and how I plan for their future. Michael Swanson and Kevin Jordan weren’t just instructors at Roger Williams University during my time there in the early 1990s; they were foundational to the historic preservation program. Their influence continues to guide my work today.
Mike Swanson passed away recently, and it prompted me to reflect on just how much his teachings remain present in my daily practice. He was a towering figure, literally and figuratively. He was kind, funny, and full of presence. His history classes helped us see places differently. Not just as collections of buildings, but as stories built in wood, brick, and stone. He showed us how the layout of a street or the shape of a village revealed the values of a time, how people built around their needs, and how those needs evolved.
Kevin Jordan brought a different but equally essential perspective. He pushed us to think more critically, not just about the past, but about how people use places now and what policies shape those places moving forward. I remember him urging us to see historic neighborhoods not as relics but as vibrant systems that support community life. He taught us that even buildings that look worn on the outside often reflect deep, resilient patterns of human connection. Walkable blocks. Homes with front porches. Families living in separate units of a triple-decker, maintaining multigenerational ties.
Kevin and Mike intersected in the way they taught us to see places as living, layered systems. That understanding has never left me.
What Zoning Gets Wrong
As a graduate student in the mid-1990s, I studied North Stonington, Connecticut, a small village that still held onto its historic form. I drew a figure-ground analysis (by hand) to map the relationship between buildings, and what emerged was a picture of compact, connected, human-scaled development. It worked because it had evolved in response to human needs.
Then I looked at the zoning. That historic village pattern—the very thing people loved about the place—was no longer allowed. New development had to comply with large setbacks, big lots, and strict use separation. The zoning code was completely out of step with the built environment it governed.
In my graduate thesis, I wrote: “If these dimensional regulations dominated the appearance of the village over the next few decades, it is probable that the village would appear and function like a typical suburban residential neighborhood. This historic village would no longer be a village.
Another special place is being ‘zoned out.’”
The village’s original fabric—smaller lots, narrower frontage, shallow setbacks, and a mix of uses—was incompatible with the R40 zoning district.
Even nearly 30 years later, this disconnect isn’t rare. What struck me then as a grad student still fascinates and motivates me today. This issue ties directly to my roots in historic preservation and has shaped my path in community planning ever since. At JM Goldson, my team and I regularly encounter this same mismatch between zoning and the physical surroundings people value most.
Over the years, we’ve refined our analysis of dimensional compliance. It's a mapping analysis that compares what’s on the ground to what zoning allows. In one recent community, we zoomed in on a beloved residential neighborhood near their historic downtown. Everyone on the Planning Board knew the area. They loved its walkability, its mature trees, and its architectural variety.
Then we showed them the map: nearly 80% of the properties were out of compliance with current zoning.
That got their attention.
Historically, it was common to "downzone" older neighborhoods, often as a way to shut the gates to further development. But the unintended consequence is that we froze these places in time. We made it illegal to replicate the very patterns that create vibrancy and resilience illegal.
Seeing What’s Possible
Earlier this year, I had a chance to revisit Providence on a walking tour hosted by Union Studios as part of the Congress for the New Urbanism conference. We toured Parkis Avenue, where large Victorian era homes had been thoughtfully adapted into multi-unit affordable housing. New infill construction was integrated seamlessly, respecting the scale, setbacks, and rhythm of the existing neighborhood.
The result? More housing. More affordability. And a neighborhood that still feels beautiful, livable, and loved.
That kind of transformation doesn’t happen by accident. It takes vision, and it takes zoning that allows neighborhoods to evolve.
Kevin Lynch and the Power of Legibility
This idea, that people instinctively understand and value places that are coherent, connected, and complete, isn’t just something we feel. It’s something scholars like Kevin Lynch described decades ago. In his classic book The Image of the City, Lynch writes:
“In the process of making decisions, organizing actions, and orienting ourselves in the world, we rely upon the external environment and its image in our minds.”
When we walk through neighborhoods that make sense to us, where the patterns are legible, where we can tell what streets connect, where destinations are nearby and the scale feels human, we feel grounded. Safe. At ease.
Many of our historic neighborhoods offer this kind of clarity. They are what Lynch would call “imageable,” easily mapped in the mind because of their structure and coherence. That imageability is part of what makes them beloved. It also gives us, as planners and designers, a clue. Zoning should reinforce what people intuitively recognize as livable.
At JM Goldson, we use visual analysis tools not just to study form but to restore legibility. This allows communities to see their own best qualities and build from them.
What Planners and Officials Can Do
If you're a planner, local official, or volunteer board member, and this resonates with you, here’s where to start:
Analyze the Mismatch: Use mapping to understand how much of your community’s beloved neighborhoods are technically non-conforming. How big is the gap between zoning and reality?
Use Visual Tools: Don’t just rely on numbers. Maps, photos, and figure-ground diagrams help people see what’s at stake. When residents and officials can visualize what’s working and what is being prevented, they’re more open to change.
Start with Low-Hanging Fruit: Align your base zoning with the density that’s already there. Allow infill that matches the neighborhood. Legalize the kinds of places you already love.
Honor the Past While Planning for the Future: Thoughtful updates to zoning aren’t a betrayal of history. They’re a continuation of it.
Preservation & Planning Together
Preservation and planning are often seen as opposites. I’ve never believed that. What I learned from Mike Swanson and Kevin Jordan is that the past has everything to teach us about building for the future. And that the patterns people created, before zoning even existed, still offer lessons for how we live today.
At JM Goldson, we help communities see those patterns clearly. We bring the data, the visuals, and the respectful process to help planners and residents align their values with their regulations.
When we update zoning to reflect the places we cherish, we’re not just solving a housing problem.
We’re making space for the next generation to find home in neighborhoods that grow with them.
Zoning isn’t destiny. It’s a tool.
Let’s use it to carry our communities forward, without losing what makes them meaningful.