Sunlight suffuses Hiawatha Golf Course in Minneapolis as golfers play an early-morning round on July 27. (David Joles, Star Tribune/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

Opinion editor's note: Editorials represent the opinions of the Star Tribune Editorial Board, which operates independently from the newsroom.

•••

The plan to remedy both water issues and perceived shared-space inequities by halving the number of holes at the Hiawatha Golf Course in south Minneapolis is an expensive attempt to show that less is more.

It's back on the Minneapolis Park and Recreation Board agenda yet again — for a fourth time, depending on how you count the cycles — and should be rejected yet again. The timing of Wednesday evening's anticipated vote, however, suggests that proponents believe they now have the support to advance the proposal.

A recap:

The surface of the 18-hole course, like much of the developed area near Lake Hiawatha, is close to the water table. The course can flood after heavy rainfalls. Keeping it dry requires pumping. Nearby homes also benefit from this.

After significant flooding in 2014, the Park Board decided to re-envision the golf course and adjacent parkland. It began developing a master plan that, as stated in the resolution before the board on Wednesday, "pursues a balance of golf and other activities set in a landscape guided by water management." The tangible outcomes would be to cut the course to nine holes, manufacture a wetland and add non-golf amenities — at a cost of more than $40 million, as yet unfunded.

During the eight years leading up to this reprise, two things seem to have caught the board by surprise: first, the degree of water pumping taking place, which exceeded permitted levels and appeared to validate arguments for shrinking or even closing the course; and second, the historical significance of the course among Black golfers, which did the opposite.

Both considerations have mingled with a third force — a belief that golf is an exclusive activity crowding out more worthy uses of public space.

To expand on each:

The pumping at Hiawatha is not unique. In both urban and agricultural areas throughout Minnesota, water is redirected for the benefit of human activity. The practice is properly seen as an environmental concern, but permitting agencies consider each situation in context. It isn't clear that an amount of pumping required to preserve 18 holes of golf at Hiawatha is beyond the pale — or beyond approval.
The racial reckoning catalyzed in Minneapolis two years ago by the murder of George Floyd is not just about obvious acts of ill intent. It extends to the impacts of routine decisions and to the priorities that prevail when values are in conflict. Though Hiawatha is not just a Black course, it is important to Black golfers because it was once the only one in the area that welcomed them. It was where a legacy developed and still grows. While the fate of a golf course is far from paramount among racial concerns, this particular course is worth prioritizing.
Minneapolis is blessed with an abundance of parkland. Golf and other activities need not be seen as zero-sum. Yet the resolution before the Park Board almost reluctantly acknowledges interest in the course's future, calling it "advocacy for the perpetuation of golf." The word choice is technically correct but loaded. What's relevant is that an 18-hole course exists and is enjoyed in sufficient numbers by those who appreciate access to the sport close to where they live and at a reasonable price.

Other concerns raised by opponents of the golf course involve trash and pollution. Both scapegoat the course by failing to observe the extensive urban environment around it.

Proponents of the Hiawatha plan are convinced that the anticipated effects of an evolving climate on the site compel them to act. We cannot dismiss their prediction, but we can tell you that taking something away is divisive. Skepticism in this case is also driven by a perception that Park Board staff ruled out remedies that preserve 18 holes too early in the process, without ever sufficiently showing their work.

A narrow approval would not serve the public. Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey has veto power over Park Board resolutions. He's used it before and should again, if necessary, to ensure that all options are exhausted to the public's satisfaction before an amenity — and a legacy — are diminished. It would likely save money, too.