Billboard blight (Part 1 of 3)

I am a sucker for scenery. I love motoring sedately through the countryside enjoying the trees, meadows, wildflowers, rock formations, or whatever else Mother Nature has designed for us. As I recently drove through three beautiful states—Arkansas, Tennessee, and Missouri—I was bothered and bewildered by billboard blight.

Some signs are necessary, such as mileage markers or those which contain emergency help information. Some signs are welcome, such as those indicating upcoming rest areas. I was traveling with a puppy, so I looked forward to those essential stops. In Arkansas and Tennessee, I was aided by small highway signs containing logos of the gas stations, restaurants, or hotels I would find at the next exit. In the highway biz, these little signs are called tourist-oriented direction signs, or TODS. These business summary signs are great. If nothing shown on the TODS struck my fancy, I simply drove to the next exit for a different selection.

I thoroughly enjoyed my drive through Arkansas and Tennessee—and then I got to Missouri. What a mess! I was bombarded at every turn by jumbo billboards advertising everything from banks to boats, from retirement villages to vasectomy reversals.

One particularly pointless example was a series of three jumbo boards advertising the bank in a town with a population of 267. These billboards did not motivate me to pull off the road and run into the bank to open an account. They did block my view of a charming little Ozark “holler” containing a wildflower meadow and a burbling stream. My guess is that all of the citizens of the town over the age of 12 know where the bank is and what services it offers. I suppose there might be a few pre-teen entrepreneurs who could be persuaded by the giant signs to put their money in the bank, rather than in a sock, but I do not see why my view should be polluted in order to woo a tiny number of potential customers.

Whatever happened to the Highway Beautification Act? The act was passed in 1965 at the urging of Lady Bird Johnson. Legend has it that on the evening of the day the bill was to be considered in the House, there was a reception at the White House for members of Congress. Word went out from the West Wing that the legislators were not to come to the party until they passed “Bird’s bill.” The congressmen worked acrimoniously late into the evening, but arrived at the White House with the bill in hand.

The Highway Beautification Act of 1965 is a conglomeration of regulations which controls outdoor advertising, mandates the removal of junkyards, and encourages scenic enhancement on interstate and primary highways. When President Johnson signed it, he called it “a wall of civilization between us and the beauty of our countryside.” It contains many complicated rules, but a couple of them are clear. Billboards are to be located no closer than 660 feet from the nearest edge of the right-of-way on an interstate highway, and there must be no more than 21 structures per mile.

Why would beautiful states allow walls of intrusive and ugly signs to be erected between travelers on their highways and the natural wonders of their land? I am bothered and bewildered by those huge billboards, and I am offended and outraged by the lack of appreciation for the beauty of the land of which they are a symbol.

Is outdoor advertising out of control? Is there a solution? Are billboards bad for the environment, but good for business? Are they bad for our health, but good for tourism? Are there alternatives? Next week Sustaina will have more to say on this subject.