This is not another story about Overton Square and its buildings. Many of us are ready to give that subject a rest, at least for a few weeks.

But as is often the case, the debate over that proposed redevelopment has unleashed a great deal of commentary – hostility, even – about historic preservation and its proponents.  Some even found something negative to say about three architects who volunteered their own time to research and publish a book documenting the city’s mid-20th Century buildings (thank you, Lee Askew, Marty Gorman, and Keith Kays).  One online Commercial Appeal commenter groused that the publication would just give Memphis Heritage executive director June West and “her band of obstructionists another group of buildings to save at all costs.”

While I’m not necessarily in the “Save the Overton Square Buildings!” camp (although we shouldn’t rush to tear them down either), the discussion has revealed a lot of misinformation and misunderstanding about preservation.  While we proponents still call it ‘historic preservation’ and the movement probably did get its start with the goals of protecting historic buildings, for most of us, preservation encompasses buildings, larger places such as small towns and neighborhoods, streetscapes, cultural resources, even such things as unique views and vistas.  Speaking broadly, you might even say it is about protecting places that are for some reason important to the community at large or a segment of it.  By this definition, architectural and historical significance are only two of reasons why a particular community asset may deserve to be protected and preserved.

There has already been a lot written about why preservation is important. It has been called the ultimate recycling; a critical ingredient in retaining our ‘sense of place;’ an engine of economic development; a key to Memphis’ success in attracting movie, TV, and commercial productions; and much more. But even the most ardent preservationist will admit that not everything can be saved. Moreover, all historic properties are not alike or equally important. The 1848 James Lee House in Victorian Village is not the same as the Union Avenue Methodist Church, although both are on the National Register of Historic Places and both are threatened – the former by deterioration and the lack of a preservation plan and the latter, by a rumored drugstore that wants to occupy a high-visibility intersection.

So in an era of scarce public resources and in a community with many old buildings and neighborhoods crying out for redevelopment, how do we decide what to preserve or to fight for? How do we sift through the many factors such as age, history, architecture, context, and cultural importance? One promising proposal that has emerged from the effort to update Memphis and Shelby County’s Preservation Plan could provide an important decision-making tool.

The goal of the Preservation Plan and an accompanying historic properties database is to identify Memphis’ most important historic, cultural resources and to recommend strategies for how these resources can and should be used in planning and development decisions, economic development, and for community outreach and education.  The plan was last published in the mid-1990s, and now, a committee of public planners and citizens are working to update and streamline it.

This time around, instead of just cataloging the community’s historic resources – there are more than 700 on a list that is hardly complete – members of the committee are recommending that each property be assigned points in several categories. These include age and condition, the latter taking into account not only how good a shape the property is in, but also if is threatened by potential development as in the case of Union Avenue Methodist.  Properties will also be evaluated for their ‘stature’ or importance on a scale ranging from national significance to city/county significance to importance to a neighborhood.  Taken together the point system allows all properties on the register to be ranked and compared, giving the community a more nuanced perspective from which to discuss and determine whether or not properties should be protected and how far we should go to insure that they are. If implemented, the register and its ranking system should also serve to highlight the handful of buildings that it is the most urgent to preserve – our ‘most threatened’ – and which warrant immediate public attention and priority.

Of course there will always be a subjective element to such a ranking system, especially when it comes to a property’s stature. Is Aretha Franklin’s birthplace – a modest clapboard cottage in South Memphis – of local significance only, or nationally important?  Does it get extra points for being part of one of the city’s critical redevelopment districts, and potentially a draw for tourists?

Nevertheless, by having this information in the historic database our community – planners, developers, elected officials, activists, and residents – will be in a better position to evaluate our historic resources and their appropriate roles in tourism, economic development, and neighborhood revitalization. We won’t always agree, and historic preservation will likely continue to be a hot-button issue in Memphis. But for those of us who are advocates for both historic preservation and community redevelopment, making the hard decisions could get a little easier.