About 50 people gathered on the Lower East Side of Manhattan this spring to discuss a common villain they said was causing problems in their neighborhoods: the rising number of bars in New York City.
NEW YORK — A resident of Inwood testified to trash-strewn streets and violence in her corner of Manhattan, while a woman from the Upper West Side lamented the departure of a shoemaker and barbershop. A man from Williamsburg, Brooklyn, complained that his community was “overrun.”
About 50 people gathered on the Lower East Side of Manhattan this spring to discuss a common villain they said was causing problems in their neighborhoods: the rising number of bars in New York City. Then they pointed to the state Liquor Authority, accusing the agency of issuing too many liquor licenses and eroding their quality of life.
“The SLA is less concerned with the public welfare and more concerned with granting licenses to bar owners,” Diem Boyd, who helped organize the meeting, said afterward. “We’re at a critical point.”
A spokesman for the state Liquor Authority, William Crowley, offered a different perspective, saying: “The SLA takes a balanced approach in our review process, weighing the merits of the individual application, while placing substantial weight on the recommendations of residents, community boards and elected officials.”
There is little doubt that liquor licenses can reshape a neighborhood. To the state Liquor Authority, bars and restaurants are “a vital part of the city’s economy.” Critics say a flood of drinking spots can turn neighborhoods into unruly entertainment zones, hasten gentrification and make streets less safe.
Block associations and other groups have long fought licenses one at a time.
But now a new coalition, Neighborhoods United, which held the spring meeting, is focusing on their cumulative impact and beginning a campaign to limit new licenses based on a 25-year-old state statute.
The law forbids the state Liquor Authority from issuing a liquor license to any premises within 500 feet of three existing licensed establishments — unless the authority consults a community board or a municipality, holds a hearing, finds that the license would be in the public interest, and records its reasons.
The state Liquor Authority has written that the 500-foot rule “clearly creates a presumption that the license should not be issued.” At the same time, coalition members say the authority has improperly placed the burden on the community to prove that an exception should not be granted.
The authority rarely gives specific reasons for its exceptions, the coalition said.
Last week the coalition, which has 36 member groups from across the city, began sending letters to Gov. Andrew Cuomo and other officials with recommendations, including “strict enforcement” of the 500-foot rule, a greater number of state inspectors and a uniform process to inform the public of license applications.
“The saturation of liquor licenses and irresponsible nightlife-driven establishments are turning many neighborhoods into ‘night life malls,'” the letter said. “At stake is the rich cultural diversity and vibrant mix of neighborhoods that define NYC.”
Not everyone sees the licensing process as too lax. Robert S. Bookman, of the NYC Hospitality Alliance, a trade group, said he thought it gave the public too great a voice in opposing licenses.
“If the 500-foot law was to be interpreted to be an absolute ban, then there would be no restaurant row, no Times Square,” he wrote in an email message.
Gripes about rowdy bar-goers are nothing new, but the number of licenses in the city allowing bars, clubs, restaurants and hotels to sell liquor has risen to 7,616 this year from 5,391 in 2000, according to figures from the state Liquor Authority, an increase of 41 percent. (When beer and wine are included, there are nearly 12,000 licenses in the city.)
In some neighborhoods, particularly those that have seen significant real estate development, the increase is palpable.
The 11101 ZIP code in Queens, which covers Long Island City and part of Astoria, has 94 establishments with liquor licenses today, up from 40 in 2000. The 10002 ZIP code on the Lower East Side grew to 175 from 41. And the 11211 ZIP code, in Williamsburg, leapt to 238 from 40.
The 500-foot rule was adopted in 1993 after an alcohol-fueled brawl led to the fatal shootings of an off-duty police officer and another man on Bell Boulevard in Queens, where two dozen bars lined an eight-block strip. The state Liquor Authority allows the approval of licenses after hearings when “there is no community opposition and no other reason for disapproval.”
Hearing reports obtained through Freedom of Information requests by coalition members and their allies provided a window into that decision-making process. They showed that applicants often said licenses would benefit the public by creating jobs and tax revenue.
Neighborhood residents often did not attend hearings, the reports showed. Community boards sometimes failed to register their opinions. At other times, community boards supported applicants who agreed to operating restrictions.
When elected officials or a community board opposes the license, decisions are referred to the state Liquor Authority “full board,” which has granted exceptions even in cases where up to 30 to 40 other licensed establishments were within 500 feet.
State Liquor Authority reports showed that in August 2017 there were 80 hearings at the agency’s New York City office for applicants seeking exceptions. Administrative law judges for the authority found that 70 of those showed that a license would be in the public interest. And records indicated that the state Liquor Authority eventually reached the same conclusion for seven of the remaining 10 applicants.
The state Liquor Authority spokesman, Crowley, wrote that elected officials and others will support applicants even when a community board does not. He added that some applications scrutinized under the 500-foot rule have been for new businesses replacing licensed businesses at the same location.
Critics of the exceptions often cite the Lower East Side, where noisy and sometimes disorderly throngs are drawn to a three-by-three-block section with about 50 premises serving liquor.
On a recent Saturday night there, a 17-year resident, Tom Cole, watched as shouts from revelers blended with bleating car horns and music leaking from bars. Long lines formed in front of some establishments. Groups roamed, or staggered, arm in arm. Some people sipped their drinks while standing outside.
“It’s like being inside a college fraternity party,” Cole said. “This has become one of the most popular parts of the city, and that’s what has turned it into one of the most hellish.”
This article originally appeared in The New York Times.