The 89-year-old woman had seen her neighborhood come full circle in the 75 years since her family had moved there. Once merchants had lived in the area south of downtown, but it slowly deteriorated with crime, prostitution, and drugs, and she was embarrassed to have visitors. Then a homeowners' association won city approval to install gates to close off some of the streets, and residents now anticipate the area will again become appealing.

Gating existing subdivisions may be rare, but the number of new developments protected by bars is soaring, according to the new hardcover book, "Fortress America," by Edward J. Blakely and Mary Gail Snyder (Brookings Institution, $24.95). While real numbers are difficult to pin down, the authors believe there are 20,000 gated communities with more than 3 million household units, adding, "A leading national real estate developer estimates that eight out of every 10 new urban projects are gated."

Walled communities are as old as cities themselves, but the modern practice of gating, which was once restricted to retirement villages and compounds for the super-rich, has now spread to all residential developments, from single-family subdivisions to high-density apartment complexes. Besides the security zones, where fear of crime is the motivation, there are lifestyle communities, where residents share an interest such as golf, and prestige communities, which are enclaves for the rich and famous.

But, as the book's title suggests, the authors find fault with the exclusionary aspects of the practice, asking, "Can there be a social contract without social contact?" They write, "Residents told us repeatedly that they want to protect themselves from crime, reduce traffic, and control their neighborhoods. And they believe that gates work." However, the statistical evidence indicates "that although people feel safer, they probably are not significantly safer. Fear and anxiety feed on themselves. Gates and walls reflect fear and serve as daily reminders of the perceived dangers on the other side, and at the same time they do little to improve the reality. Even if crime is lower in the gated communities, the city and suburban streets outside are unchanged."

If crime is the oft-cited problem, community is the authors' answer. Blakely, dean of the School of Urban and Regional Planning and the University of Southern California, and Snyder, a member of the department of City and Regional Planning at the University of California, would prefer speed bumps and sharp street corners to impede traffic. Window arrangements, fences, and lighting can help deter crime. They would like to see public spaces that bring people together -- a corner store, pedestrian-friendly, tree-lined streets, as well as front lawns and front porches where neighbors can congregate.

It is possible to read between the lines of the authors' scolds when they write: "Community ... recognizes that individual lives and the futures of local places are indivisibly joined to their cities, regions, and nation. We must protect our neighborhood communities because they are essential and fundamental to our democratic society. It is the mutual support and shared social relationships of community that require protection and deserve our material and intellectual resources, not the symbols of separatism and alienist consumption."

If it is sometimes hard to keep in mind that they are writing about gates and guards, the chapter headings and subtitles allow one to remain focused: "You Can Run, But You Can't Hide," for example; or, perhaps what represents the book's theme in a nutshell: "Divided We Fall."

Published: April 6, 1998

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