Since the 1990s, urban parks across the US have undergone a renaissance akin to the rapid increase in large urban parks in the latter half of the nineteenth century.1 High-profile contemporary urban parks, such as Millennium Park in Chicago, Illinois; Buffalo Bayou Park in Houston, Texas; and the High Line in New York City, New York, are often hailed as innovative symbols of urban design, community investment and economic development.2 The eye-catching design of these parks, which are referred to in this article as ‘urban destination parks’, has made them popular tourist destinations and internationally recognised symbols of their respective cities. Those parks have become so iconic that other cities across the US are developing their destination parks as status symbols.3 Adrian Benepe, the senior vice president of the Trust for Public Land and former parks commissioner for New York City, said, ‘There is a peacetime arms race as cities compete. Having a great public amenity like a park helps draw residents and investors to a city.’4

Rural parks perform many similar functions to urban parks, although they garner far less attention from scholars, tourists and philanthropists. Driving this attention discrepancy is an urban misconception about the need for rural parks. To many urban residents, the rural landscape is inherently natural, despite the industries that activate and define the land’s use.5 In reality, most rural spaces in the US are neither natural nor accessible for human recreation; they are industrial spaces that have been manipulated to extract resources.6 The industrial reality of rural spaces means that rural parks play a critical role in the production and sustainability of rural life. Similarly to their urban counterparts, access to rural parks significantly affects rural residents’ health.7 Specifically, rural residents with access to parks have lower rates of chronic health diseases such as obesity and diabetes, two of the leading drivers of rural mortality.8

Given that parks contribute to both urban and rural residents’ health outcomes, ensuring access to public park space remains an important social investment. This research explores park funding in the US within an economic environment of limited financial support and investment by local governments. Using four examples, funding sources are compared between urban and rural parks, with similarities and differences between these parks highlighted (see Figure 1). Local social, political, geographic and economic conditions are outlined for each case, with a view to identifying barriers to and/or the potential of rural parks in adopting funding strategies like those deployed in urban areas. To contextualise this research, a brief discussion of how neoliberal policies from the 1980s onwards have impacted on park funding in the US is provided, along with an outline of funding obstacles unique to rural municipalities. This is followed by an introduction of the four case-study sites with a focus on their development history and summaries of their funding.

Starting in the early 1980s, the US adopted a suite of economic theories collectively known as neoliberalism. Unlike the policies of the preceding six decades, which favoured ideas of worker-focused government intervention, neoliberal policies favoured the capitalistic expansion of corporations.9 In the US, neoliberal economic and political theories were enacted through tax cuts for corporations, deregulation, the downsizing and privatisation of public services and broad fiscal austerity measures.10 As a result, state and federal tax revenues decreased.

The peak of ‘White flight’ – the mass migration of mostly White, wealthy individuals from urban centres to suburban and peri-urban areas – coincided with neoliberal austerity measures.11 The dual pressures of decreasing local tax revenues and the gravitational pull of expanding suburbs forced many municipalities to scale back public services. As city budgets shrank, park and recreation programmes were often the first to be cut, leading urban parks to visibly decline.12

As global industrial systems and structural employment changed in the 1990s, cities competed for highly educated ‘creative class’ employees. Corporations and the wealthy elite, recognising that their cities lacked the financial capital to construct attractive municipal amenities, worked with political leaders to fund large-scale public projects (for example, libraries, art centres or museums).13 Civic architecture’s mix of environmental improvement and employment benefits became an ‘irresistible cocktail’ for private investors, politicians and cultural producers.14 Private investors turned to urban destination parks as sites of cultural identity when it became clear that cultural architecture was an effective branding and economic development strategy.15 High-profile parks like Bryant Park in New York City, New York (renovated in 1992) and Millennium Park in Chicago, Illinois (built in 2004) proved that private investment in public parks could bring significant returns on investment.16 Competition and an eagerness to shape cities in their image drove the corporate elite of other cities to fund an explosion of high-dollar urban destination parks (for example, Buffalo Bayou Park in Houston, Texas, and Riverfront Park in Nashville, Tennessee).

Initially, White flight migration patterns increased the rural population in the US.17 By the early 1990s, however, rural industrial shifts, land price increases and agricultural technology advances decreased the demand for rural workers. Young rural residents, facing limited job opportunities and increasingly attractive urban living conditions, migrated to urban areas at a fast rate.18 Facing decreasing populations and neoliberal budget cuts, many rural-majority municipalities, counties and states slashed rural park and recreation funding. Despite those cuts, few rural parks closed, leading to a steady decline in the quality of park programming and amenities, further exacerbating outmigration.19

Many rural leaders employed economic development strategies to reverse the outmigration trend. One preferred option was the expansion of rural quality-of-life amenities like parks and trails. Studies show that rural growth in the US has occurred almost exclusively in areas with exceptional natural amenities, such as mountains or large lakes.20 Other studies show that younger and highly educated people value parks and trails more than older and less-educated people.21 Therefore, many rural communities invested in recreation opportunities to retain and attract educated young people. Many small towns also attempted to amplify their local culture to attract tourists. This investment strategy aimed to transition or expand a rural community’s industry from resource extraction to service by adding hospitality, dining and retail opportunities. Many rural areas, and small rural towns in particular, based their tourism identity around ancestral culture (for example, German, Czech or Danish heritage) and agricultural traditions.22

However, the lack of financial capital hindered many rural areas. Private funding for rural parks was limited because few corporations have headquarters in rural locations, meaning fewer wealthy philanthropists to represent and benefit from the rural locale.23 Instead, most rural leaders turned to state and federal grants to compensate for neoliberal retrenchment, although competition made acquiring public funds difficult. Complicating matters further, many rural agencies lacked the expertise to write successful grant applications or the budget to pay for an experienced grant writer, putting those agencies at a disadvantage compared with other, better-funded and often urban or suburban agencies.24

Over 85 per cent of the urban park construction budgets examined here came from private sources (see Figure 3 and Figure 6). Most private funds came from corporate donations and private family/individual philanthropic organisations. The remainder came from their respective cities. This primarily private funding strategy matches that of many other high-profile urban parks built in the US in the last 30 years.51 In contrast, over 75 per cent of the rural projects’ budgets came from public funding sources (see Figure 9 and Figure 12), with the remaining 25 per cent coming from in-kind services, donated land or corporate and individual donations (see Figure 10 and Figure 13).

The consistency of private funding strategies employed in the urban case studies, which mirrors the funding of several other contemporary destination urban parks mentioned in this article, suggests that private donors have found a reliable and worthwhile return on investment in urban parks. Additionally, rural parks’ reliance on public support suggests that private returns on investments are not as consistent or effective for them; if they were, private philanthropists would fund more rural parks. These assumptions can be explored and reinforced further by identifying the beneficiaries of high-profile urban parks.

The literature on neoliberal urbanism and privately funded urban parks identifies several beneficiaries of urban destination parks, including city leaders, corporate philanthropists, family/individual philanthropists, tourists, residents and the natural environment.52 Each group profits from the park differently, meaning that urban parks fulfil numerous roles simultaneously. With these groups in mind, six primary neoliberal urban park roles are proposed.

The first role is park as environmental benefit, meaning the park provides environmental and ecosystem services like pollution control, stormwater management, carbon sequestration and habitat creation.53

The second is park as quality-of-life amenity, where the park provides recreational amenities to improve health and wellness outcomes.54 Like almost all parks, this study’s four projects successfully played these roles.

The third is park as economic development, meaning the park’s purpose is revenue generation. Corporate investors and developers are the primary beneficiaries of this role because they use the park to attract customers and tourists, which provides a return on investment through increased sales and property values.55 All four case studies were created for economic development, although their intended beneficiaries differed greatly. The two urban parks were created to boost economic development in their neighbourhoods, benefitting property-owning corporations and individuals. The two rural parks, however, do not have adjacent businesses or residential properties. Instead, they were built to create or expand a recreation industry that could supplement existing extractive economies and, ultimately, extend the longevity of nearby rural communities. Urban developers probably see rural parks as less-than-ideal investments because there is limited residential or commercial real estate from which to make a profit.

The fourth role is park as legacy, meaning the park symbolises personal or organisational values. The primary beneficiary is the donor who wants to be recognised or remembered for improving the world. Scholarship suggests that legacy-building is a primary motivator for family/individual donors.56 All four park projects have donor recognition walls or plaques, so all were used to build legacies. However, the urban parks in this study offered legacy-building opportunities to only a select group of wealthy philanthropists, differentiating and elevating these donors as park providers. The rural parks offered the chance for legacy-building to anyone who could donate. Because many rural residents and businesses provided financial support to the rural parks, the park symbolised their dedication to themselves – making it appear more conceptually accessible and democratic.

The last two roles appear as significant differentiators between the urban and rural case studies.

The fifth role is park as political tool, which allows a park to symbolise political engagement and effectiveness. Although many politicians play a role in developing urban parks, city leaders (for example, mayors, city administrators) often have the most to gain because destination parks can be used as a campaign promise and a symbol of constituent support.57 City leaders who have spoken extensively about the parks and their impact provide evidence of this.58 The rural case studies, however, symbolise the efforts of many political leaders due to the multiple jurisdictional scales that overlap in rural areas.

Though rural parks can significantly impact on one jurisdiction, such as Madrid, the overlapping jurisdictional boundaries inherent to rural areas allow the park to concurrently affect and represent the county, state and region. For example, the rotating square pattern of the High Trestle Trail Bridge appears on signs and bike racks within the town, making the bridge the brand identity for Madrid. Additionally, images of the bridge are emblazoned on the front page of the Boone County Parks website59 and the state-wide Travel Iowa website.60 As the scales shift and boundaries are blurred, the values and perceptions of the amenity shift as well because it is incorporated with and contrasted against other cultural icons.

The jurisdictional overlap inherent to rural areas also impacts on the sixth park role, park as quality-of-life symbol. This role allows urban destination parks to symbolise the quality of their city. Importantly, this role can be played without actual park use.61 Instead, it often relies on curated signs of the park (for example, social media posts, news stories or city websites) to symbolise the city’s quality. Although city leaders benefit from this park role, corporate donors profit most because the park’s symbolic image can attract and retain the employees that corporations need to stay competitive.62 When signs of the destination park are used as a symbol of the city itself, the corporation becomes the cultural production source, transforming the civic city into a corporate city where the quality of life is directly tied to and even reliant on corporate benevolence.63

The urban parks in this study are relatively new, but their cities and corporate donors already employ the parks’ images as quality-of-life symbols.64 Donation from Casey’s Convenience Stores to the High Trestle Trail Bridge suggests that rural parks located near urban areas can also symbolise urban life. The company, headquartered in Des Moines, has outlets in nearly every small town in Iowa, including Madrid. Neoliberal urbanism literature would suggest that Casey’s donated to the High Trestle Trail Bridge because the park’s image could be adopted as a symbol of Des Moines’ corporation-subsidised quality of life.65 The fact that the High Trestle Trail Bridge is not in Des Moines suggests that urban areas may have a sphere of influence around them that symbolises the city, regardless of being outside the city limits.

Interestingly, Casey’s did not donate to the Honey Creek Resort, even though the park was built as a destination for Des Moines residents and corporations. Furthermore, the potential for economic return was high, considering that eight Casey’s stores are within a 45-minute drive of the resort. A likely reason for this decision involves the distance from Des Moines; the Honey Creek Resort received no donations from Des Moines-area corporations because it was too far away to symbolise their generosity.

In contrast, Cargill Corporation, a worldwide agricultural company headquartered in Minnesota, donated to the Honey Creek Resort but not the High Trestle Trail Bridge. Cargill’s donation suggests a role specifically for rural parks; instead of symbolising corporation-provided quality of life within a centralised and bounded context (corporate city), Honey Creek Resort can be viewed as a symbol of corporation-provided quality of life in a decentralised context (corporate rural). Importantly, corporate donors to rural parks, such as Cargill, probably prefer overlapping jurisdictions and undefined influence boundaries because their influence extends to all the spaces outside cities. If Cargill can be seen as promoting and sustaining the rural quality of life at the local, statewide and regional levels, its donation is having that much more impact – even if that symbolism is nebulous and disconnected from a single place.

The urban parks in this study benefitted from a concentrated pool of high-wealth corporations and individuals working with city leaders who mutually benefit from the park as a symbol and a recreational space. The urban parks, funded through city/philanthropist partnerships, were designed to appear altruistic and constituent-driven. Because urban destination parks are multifaceted and play numerous concurrent roles, the parks were indeed altruistic and constituent-driven. However, scholars and the public should not stop the interrogation there. The urban parks also signify corporate benevolence and culture creation for the city, directly provide economic benefits to the corporate donors through increased property values and the attraction and retention of high-quality employees and symbolise the political effectiveness of city leaders. In short, the many concurrent roles urban destination parks play make them ideal places for philanthropic investment because they can appear generous and be self-serving at the same time.

Rural parks play many similar roles to their urban counterparts; however, they are not ideal places for philanthropic investment because rural areas are inherently boundless and jurisdictionally ambiguous. This reality means that the opportunities for corporate investors to use the park as a symbol of their generosity and influence are diminished. Rural parks can still receive corporate investment, provided the corporation has a vested interest in rural residents. However, the number of corporations that rely exclusively on rural residents is small and may even get smaller as rural outmigration continues. Therefore, rural parks will most likely rely on public funding for the foreseeable future.