Why economic justice solutions work where they do

and why they don’t work in other places

I’ve been working on a book with Rosa Lee, with the working title This Shit Works — And Why It Matters.

I’ve been compiling case studies of economic justice solutions — things like Buy Back the Block, which enables average people in poor neighborhoods to become owners of commercial real estate in their own communities… new ways to make deeply affordable housing more accessible… ways to invest in local businesses owned by low- and moderate-income people… and ways to subvert redlining and other forms of systemic racism.

Through Neighborhood Economics conferences, we gather the people who care about using these replicable solutions — solutions that create economic power in neighborhoods in every city where people die, on average, ten years younger than wealthier zip codes just miles away.

The conference helps these innovations propagate. It connects people so the work spreads.

But something has been bothering me.

If these solutions work… why do they produce phase shifts in some places and stall in others

?

Kyle suggested anchoring the book in our earlier work — the Field Guide to Transformation — which outlines the ecosystem of changemakers required to make a system shift in a place.

There’s the system entrepreneur — the community quarterback. The code-switcher. Someone who can talk to capital and power, but also listen deeply to community. That role is catalytic but hard to fund because it’s indirect. They don’t house people themselves. They make it possible for housing to happen.

Then there are what I call the mother hens — the relational infrastructure builders. The ones who send the invites. Take the notes. Sit in the endless meetings. Build trust slowly over time. Without them, coalitions fall apart.

There’s the connected evangelist — often a man — who’s comfortable in the Rotary Clubs and boardrooms. Who opens doors and translates the vision into language the powerful understand. Sometimes he can make a bigger ask than the community safely can.

There’s the prophet — who keeps the moral center intact.

And there are anchor institutions — hospitals, churches, universities — that aren’t going anywhere and have a vested interest in a thriving community.

But when I overlaid those two lenses — the tools and the ecosystem — I realized something was missing.

The local ecosystem determines whether the tool works.

That realization hit when I joined our local housing task force in Buncombe County.

I had just helped create a Common Pool Fund for predevelopment — those soft dollars for design, zoning, and approvals that are hardest to raise. That’s catalytic capital.

And in that meeting, Joe Minicozzi of Urban3 showed again that poor neighborhoods subsidize affluent ones through distorted property taxes.

In Shiloh — a historically Black neighborhood displaced to build Biltmore — residents have been overtaxed for decades. Meanwhile, Biltmore Forest has been undertaxed. Millions extracted from one neighborhood and gifted to another.

The salaries of 150 public school teachers — gone.

The data is brilliant. The visualization is shocking.

But nothing has changed.

Why?

Because having the genius with the solution is not enough.

When you need to change public rules, you need organized, interracial, interfaith activist power.

In San Antonio, foundations engaged. The Spurs hosted a public meeting. Banks said they’d work toward consensus.

Nothing changed.

In Orange County, North Carolina, a multiracial interfaith coalition made tax fairness a central election issue.

That’s different.

That’s organized power aligned with moral authority.

So the breakthrough is this:

The book isn’t just about tools.

It’s about the forensic ecosystem conditions under which tools produce phase shift.

For each case study we ask:

What solution existed?

Which ecosystem roles were present?

Which were missing?

Did it require market action or rule change?

Was organized power aligned with technical expertise?

What triggered — or prevented — the shift?

These innovations are modular. They stack. But whether they work in a place depends on ecosystem alignment.

Neighborhood Economics is not just spreading tools.

It’s seeding quarterbacks.

Connecting mother hens.

Introducing prophets to evangelists.

Aligning data with organized power.

The argument becomes:

Local economic justice transformation is possible — but only when the invisible architecture of change is built.

And that forensic ecosystem analysis is now the spine of the bookI’ve been working on a book with Rosa Lee, with the working title This Shit Works — And Why It Matters.