The city has initiated a push to liquidate many of its industrial properties with very little transparency, advertising and foresight. These sales are being conducted through the Philadelphia Industrial Development Corporation, and its financial arm, Philadelphia Authority for Industrial Development, which was created to issue tax-exempt debt for industrial and commercial development projects.

Currently, 12 city-owned properties are up for bid. The highest bidder usually wins, and the best use for the property from the perspective of the neighborhood is only technically considered—behind closed doors. Three are on the Philadelphia Register of Historic Places; one is a firehouse built by Philadelphia architect James Windrim in 1893. (For a complete list, go to www.pidc-pa.org.)

The PIDC, formed in 1958 by the city and the Greater Philadelphia Chamber of Commerce to "retain existing business, and develop new business," allows the government to engage in more commercial practices to attract businesses. For example, PIDC/PAID created many incentives to attract ship builder Kvaerner to the Navy Yard. The PIDC has been used to inject business sense into what can be a cumbersome city government. But auctioning off playgrounds or historic firehouses? How does that help?

In the case of the Windrim firehouse, the highest bidder is a developer who wants to build condos. Accepting only the highest bidder is shortsighted and a waste of city assets; the city sells the property into a kind of indentured servitude. It must be made to produce the absolute highest return in order to pay back the investor and service his loan. These days the highest return means conversion to condos, and lots of them, usually with the bare minimum of square footage and other amenities.

To take the firehouse as an example, a manufacturer who wanted to start a business in that building would never be able to outbid a condo developer. And I doubt very much that Kvaerner would have been able to win a highest-bidder auction against condo developers for the property they occupy now.

If PIDC is a nonprofit industrial developer, why are they getting involved with residential real estate? Condos create short-term jobs, the developer cashes out and the city harvests the transfer tax. But what are the neighbors left with?

The city, through the PIDC, has shifted the awarding of public property sales away from a "highest use" concept toward a preference for the highest bidder. This may be the industry standard for the private sector, but the city must be held to a higher standard. Will 16 new $350,000 condos improve quality of life on your block?

Once the PIDC has selected a winning proposal, the councilperson from the property's district must give the sale his approval. If he does approve, City Council must authorize the sale. Although councilmen from other districts can vote against each other's bills, they usually rubber-stamp them to avoid getting tit-for-tat on their own bills.

Asking a councilman to play developer has an upside and a downside. On the one hand, it gives him the power to physically shape his district. On the other hand, any bad decision he makes falls entirely on his shoulders. Why shouldn't a councilman accept a lower but "higher use" bid? He has the power. For that matter, why doesn't the councilman knock $500,000 off the developer's cost, so the guy can afford to do an above-average job—and perhaps make larger and fewer condos.

That $500,000 might make the difference between what the small businessman can afford and the condo developer is willing to pay. So, is the city going to do something extra special with that money? Something worth the trade-off? Something that will last for 100 years? Or even something that will improve our quality of life?

Councilmembers, the free market doesn't need any more help generating profit from real estate. Please be stewards of the city.

Duncan Spencer builds sets for motion pictures in the Philadephia area.