With a $15.8 billion price tag — six times its original
estimate and double the price of the Panama Canal — to say nothing
of some 12,000 design modifications (make that 12,001 once they’ve
figured how to plug all the leaks), one wonders why any sane state
would want to replicate the experience of the “Big Dig” under
Boston Harbor.
Make that: any sane state with the exception of California,
which seemingly parted company with common sense some time ago.
At issue in the Golden State is the “TriTunnel Express,” a
proposed 10-12 mile tunnel system consisting of three tubes
burrowed under the Santa Ana Mountains, connecting Orange and
Riverside Counties in the southern portion of the state. If
implemented, it would be the longest subterranean highway in the
U.S. (by contrast, the Holland Tunnel spans a mere 1.6 miles).
Why the necessity for such a grand undertaking? Chalk it up to
two fatal flaws in the California psyche: dreaming big and ignoring
reality.
Five years ago, then-Gov. Gray Davis announced that the newly
opened Foothill Freeway extension near San Bernardino was “the last
freeway” in California — “Primacy of the Car Is Over, California
Governor Declares,” the New York Times quickly proclaimed.
Still, that didn’t stop folks in Orange County from dreaming big.
The vision: bore three tunnels through the local mountains, charge
a $3 toll each way, and nature will take care of itself as
homeowners in affordable Riverside drive to and from the job-rich
O.C.
Unfortunately, reality indicates that California’s “Big Dig,” if
not doomed to failure given the state’s complicated political
landscape, most likely would be a financial sinkhole.
Let’s start with the politics. Developers first would have to
figure how to appease environmentalists, who plan to fight to
tunnels’ current projected path under the Cleveland National
Forest. That means legal challenges and design changes
(cha-ching!). Add to that a ruckus from fringe groups, which, in
California at least, are a curious blend of mischief-making and
self-centered NIMBYism. Such a group is Warrior Society, which is
devoted to mountain biking and fears that the TriTunnels plan could
lead to a second tunnel project running under the San Gabriel
Mountains near Los Angeles, destroying pristine bike turf. My
favorite question: who gets stuck with the excavated earth
(Boston’s “Big Dig,” though only 3.5 miles in length, produced
541,000 truckloads of dirt)? California’s energy woes exist, in
part, because few communities want an oil refinery or nuclear
reactor in their backyard. Green is the operative color, not soiled
brown.
Add to this the cost factor, not a casual concern in
tax-loathing Orange County (indeed TriTunnel’s proponents argue
that the project can be built without new taxes, but neglect to
mention that cost overruns are sure to devour the O.C.’s
transportation tax, which inevitably would lead to higher taxes to
keep all road projects moving).
Though advertised with a price tag of “only” $3-3.5 billion,
private studies put the actual cost at closer to $6 billion. And in
California, it’s smart to go with the high number: ask any commuter
who drives across the eastern span of the Bay Bridge, the
replacement of which is now six times its original estimate of a
decade ago. Still, that hasn’t stopped Congress from moving
forward. TriTunnel’s proponents managed to slip a $20 million
provision deep inside the recent federal transportation bill
allowing the two California counties to further study the tunnel
project.
Are there alternatives to the TriTunnel? Expanding existing
highways would be an option. So would a nonpartisan study of “smart
growth,” which at the very least would produce an honest picture of
overcrowding and traffic congestion (in California, realtors use
this fear of traffic congestion and long commute times to keep the
housing market afloat).
Rejecting TriTunnel might usher in a better era for
Californians, one in which the feasible became the new norm. In
Sacramento, Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger came to office promising a
revolution he’s yet to deliver, in part because the state’s
political system is incapable of rapid radical change. In
Hollywood, filmdom promises bigger and better products, yet a
diminished box office indicates otherwise. But the biggest
disconnect may be on California’s roads — long the symbol of the
Golden State’s promised status.
Lawmakers talk about multi-billion high rail systems and
expanded infrastructure, yet there’s no political will — nor a
public appetite — to put the state further in hock. Which is where
the TriTunnel likewise promises to take California: deep into the
earth, and deeper into debt.
It’s a myopic vision, which may be why they call it “tunnel
vision.”
Bill Whalen is a research fellow at the Hoover
Institution, where he follows California and national
politics.
