This editorial was originally published by The Post & Courier on August 31, 2022, and is reprinted with permission.
File this under a picture is worth a thousand words, with a hearty thanks to a couple of Columbia reporters for a great illustration of what’s wrong with South Carolina’s annexation laws.
After The State’s Bristow Marchant tweeted out a picture of West Columbia’s new election districts, The Associated Press’ Jeffrey Collins crystallized what we were actually seeing: “South Carolina with its high hurdle for annexation and donut holes.”
If you look smack dab in the middle of the map, where it says District 5, you’ll see the clearest example of what Mr. Collins was referring to. That’s not a separate district. That’s what we call a doughnut hole: a tract of land surrounded by a city that is not itself part of the city. Look closer, and you’ll see four other doughnut holes below it and, depending on how you define a doughnut hole and how you define just bizarre city boundaries, three or four more in District 6 in the upper left.
Doughnut holes are a logistical nightmare for city and county officials, who have to backtrack around them to pick up garbage, fill in potholes and provide other local services. They’re a danger to public safety because police and firefighters have to figure out who’s supposed to respond when there’s an emergency inside of them. And of course, by burdening officials and endangering lives, they drive up the cost of government.
The reason we have so many of them throughout the state is completely political:
South Carolinians don’t like authority, and being part of a town or city means one more government gets to tell you what you can’t do: You can’t open a 24/7 convenience store in the middle of a quiet residential street. Or a strip club. Your band can’t blare its music at ear-splitting levels all night in that same neighborhood. And of course, you often have to pay higher taxes for the extra services. So legislators don’t want to risk angering people by making it easier for cities and towns to grow naturally as population growth turns rural and suburban areas into urban sprawl.
The Legislature created special-purpose districts to provide specific urban services back when counties had no power, and these districts don’t want to lose their business to more efficient municipalities, so they have amassed significant political power to fight annexation reforms.
And of course there are the legislators themselves, many of whom don’t like the idea of anybody except legislators having any power, so they’re just fine with limiting the jurisdiction of city officials.
Doughnut holes are only the most obvious example of why our state needs to give cities and towns greater leeway to annex land that is adjacent to the city and has a high enough population density that it needs municipal services. Many residents just outside municipal boundaries still take advantage of municipal services, such as parks; they just don’t pay for them. That disparity places an extra burden on city residents to pick up the tab for their neighbors, through property taxes and business license fees.
It also makes government for everyone a little more expensive, because people who live near cities still want their own city services. So counties end up providing services that county governments weren’t designed to provide, even to residents who live in remote areas.
Many states allow cities to annex adjacent property once it reaches a certain “urban density.” But South Carolina invites people to remain outside the taxation and zoning jurisdiction of a city while taking advantage of its benefits: Property owners or residents must agree to be annexed, even when they’re encircled by a city. Either three-quarters of property owners have to sign a petition requesting annexation or else a quarter of the residents can request an annexation referendum, which voters must approve, and large landowners can opt out.
We’d like to see the Legislature adopt the urban density approach, so city boundaries reflect the reality of city life. But lawmakers at least should give cities an easier option for closing up the doughnut holes. A 2020 proposal that never got off the ground would let a city annex tracts of up to 25 acres — about half the size of the College of Charleston campus — that have been completely surrounded by the city for at least five years. It’s a fair approach that’s unlikely to get any traction next year either.
But now maybe you understand a little better why it’s needed.