To the editor:
In May 2021, the people of Nahant voted decisively — 647 to 271 — to use eminent domain to preserve East Point. This wasn’t a close or uncertain result; it was a clear mandate, rooted in years of community engagement and the sustained efforts of the Keep Nahant Wild movement. The purpose of the taking was, and remains, conservation: to protect one of Nahant’s last remaining natural areas for future generations.
On that basis alone, Judge Karp’s ruling is inconsistent with the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court’s decision in Pheasant Ridge Associates v. Burlington, which cautioned against attributing improper motives to a municipality when valid public purposes are evident — and should be overturned on appeal.
But even if one accepts Judge Karp’s assertion that the Town’s primary motive was to block Northeastern University’s development — not conservation — Nahant should still prevail on appeal. Why? Because the core assumption underlying Karp’s ruling — that halting development is inherently an act of “bad faith,” even when done to avoid potential financial collapse — is deeply flawed.
Eminent domain law in Massachusetts, and in the broader American legal tradition, has long recognized that municipalities may act to protect the public welfare — including financial sustainability. The idea that a town cannot use its legal tools to prevent a project that threatens its solvency runs counter to the very purpose of local government.
Nahant is the smallest town in Massachusetts by land area, located on a narrow peninsula with just one road in and out. It has a population of roughly 3,300, aging infrastructure, and a limited, static tax base. The town already carries substantial public debt and cannot expand its boundaries or attract meaningful commercial development.
Now consider Northeastern’s proposed 55,000-square-foot expansion at East Point, which would bring at least 228 additional students, researchers, and faculty — representing nearly a 7% increase in the island’s daily population. These individuals would require fire, police, EMS, snow removal, water, and sewer services — yet Northeastern, as a nonprofit with a $1.85 billion endowment, would pay no property taxes to support them. The costs would fall squarely on Nahant’s residents.
This is not conjecture. Nahant’s Advisory and Finance Committee projected that the expansion would cost the town between $16.9 million and $21.7 million more than 40 years. For a community of fewer than 1,600 households, that burden is not only unsustainable — it could lead to financial insolvency.
Larger municipalities might be able to absorb such shocks. Nahant cannot. Nahant is not Boston, with an annual budget of $4.8 billion; not Cambridge, with $955 million; not Worcester, with $893 million. Nahant is the smallest town in Massachusetts, with an annual budget of approximately $16 million. Every added expense is felt directly by residents — many of whom are retirees on fixed incomes. The margin for error is razor-thin. The risk of insolvency is real. This year alone, Nahant faced a budget shortfall of more than $75,000 due to increased snow and ice removal costs.
Contrary to Judge Karp’s holding, after conducting a financial analysis of a development’s impact, a town must be able to say: We cannot afford this. We cannot survive this. And when it does, that conclusion must be respected.
This is not Pheasant Ridge. In that case, the alleged pretext for the taking was to block an affordable housing project based on opposition to its low-income character — clearly an act of bad faith. Here, by contrast, the alleged pretext is to block a massive academic campus expansion that poses an existential threat to the town’s financial viability — clearly NOT an act of bad faith, but rather an act of responsible governance.
So whether you rightly view the eminent domain taking as an act of environmental conservation, as the Town Meeting vote demonstrated, or believe it was a pretextual taking based on financial concerns, Nahant should win either way. Because if preserving the financial viability — and future — of a town is not “good faith,” what is?
Ben Harvey
Nahant