Preservation Politics Are Strangling the Future Of New Orleans - Let's Talk Landmark Reform"

By J.A.K. Harris

New Orleans is a city that wears its history on its sleeve. Our architecture tells stories—of Creole culture, French colonialism, Black resilience, and economic booms and busts. But while we should protect what makes this city special, we must also ask: At what point does historic preservation become historic obstruction?

Right now, our historic landmark commissions—responsible for safeguarding the visual and cultural identity of New Orleans—are operating as if frozen in time. Antiquated rules, vague designations, and a blanket approach to what’s deemed “historic” have slowed growth, blocked much-needed housing development, and deterred new business investment.

Let’s be honest: just because something is old doesn’t mean it’s historic. A 1920s shotgun double with crumbling siding and no architectural significance shouldn’t carry the same weight as a Creole townhouse in the French Quarter. Yet, in neighborhoods across the city, property owners are forced to jump through the same hoops for minor repairs or redevelopment on buildings that have long outlived their usefulness—just because of an arbitrary date or aesthetic.

New Orleans style 1920s shotgun home.

These policies have created a bottleneck for revitalization. Infill and adaptive reuse proposals routinely stall as developers grow frustrated with delays, bureaucracy, and mounting financial burdens. Young families can’t afford to restore aging homes when even repainting requires commission approval. And in communities still recovering from decades of disinvestment, the message is clear: nostalgia for the past matters more than progress for the future.

No one’s advocating for bulldozing the Garden District or gutting the Vieux Carré. What we need is nuance. A real-time reassessment of what we preserve and why. A policy shift that differentiates between culturally and architecturally significant sites and those that are simply old.

Preservation should support—not strangle—growth. The commissions must evolve, creating clear criteria rooted in historical, cultural, and architectural value—not just age. They should empower local communities to have more say in what’s preserved, especially in Black and working-class neighborhoods where the label of “historic” has too often been used as a weapon against change.

We can honor our past without sacrificing the city’s future. But to do so, we need our landmark policies to reflect the city we are now, not just the one we used to be.

New Orleans is not a museum. It’s a living, breathing city. Let’s start treating it like one.