I have been doing this for a long time, starting as a teenager who wrote for a weekly newspaper in the Chicago suburbs to working on a big city daily as an adult. And one of the first rules of this business is that people aren’t always candid with you — sometimes intentionally, sometimes accidentally, and sometimes regretfully.
So you accept it, try to figure out what the real story is, and move on. But not this time. Whole Foods screwed up the Minyard’s deal all by itself, thanks to its arrogance, several bad business decisions, and circumstances. Blaming anyone else –- be it the neighborhood or the neighborhood’s representatives to the city plan commission, which is what it seems to be doing — is being a lot less than candid.
Which Whole Foods needs to explain.
Know two things about the zoning changes that Whole Foods said it needed to build a new store on the Minyard’s site:
First, it understood the process necessary to get the changes, and it knew the process might be time consuming when it bought the property lease in February 2007. This is a $6.6 billion company with almost 300 stores in three countries. It does not buy something as important as a lease without knowing everything about the property.
Second, in February 2007, Dallas’ Only Daily Newspaper reported that the company’s "designers and architects need to move fast. They’ve decided on a European feel and will head to Canada for faster inspiration. ‘We need to begin the design quickly. It’s important to get it open by the end of the year, ‘ said a Whole Foods spokeswoman."
The zoning process takes four to six months. Evidently, Whole Foods figured it could get approval and build a new store given that time constraint. So what happened between February 2007 and February 2008 to change the company’s mind?
Because it has changed. Whole Foods spokesman Scott Simons told me (as well as other media outlets) that the chain made considerable effort and diligence in designing the new store. He says the company assumed that the design, which required some zoning changes, would "be met with open arms. When we realized that was not the case, we didn’t want to go through six months of the city planning process."
In other words, the company didn’t misjudge or miscalculate. It was the neighborhood’s fault — and by extension plan commissioners Neil Emmons and Bob Weiss — who messed up the project. Those damned obstructionist East Dallas neighborhoods, infamous in song and story.
Which is silly. Whole Foods isn’t scared of the Federal Trade Commission, but it’s scared of the Lakewood Neighborhood Association?
What happened is that Whole Foods made a series of mistakes, compounded by bad timing — none of which had anything to do with anyone who lives here and what we thought about the zoning changes. My gut feeling is that it would have gotten what it wanted, if it had pursued the change. Read commissioner Michael Davis’ comment here yesterday, and you’ll see what I mean: "I doubt that the developer was afraid of our commission. We were eager to hear the case, in fact we went on the bus tour this morning to tour the site (which is often done with controversial cases)."
For whatever reason, though, Whole Foods doesn’t want to admit it made mistakes. Maybe it’s worried about its reputation on Wall Street if it acknowledges that the planning for this store was less than stellar. Maybe it’s so arrogant that it doesn’t realize it ever makes mistakes.
And maybe — and I think this is closest to the truth — it doesn’t want to admit that it does things for money. It’s Whole Foods, it’s hip and with-it, it’s cool, and all of that. Profit? Shudder, shudder. Because, in the end, this was a decision about money.
I gave Simons every opportunity not to throw the neighborhood and the plan commissioners under the bus. Why insult the people who are going to be your customers? And, finally, toward the end of our conversation, he did say that "this was a business decision, based on a number of factors." And one of the factors was the cost of a new building vs. the cost of renovation.
How much was the difference? He wouldn’t say. But councilwoman Angela Hunt, whose district includes the site, says it was about $4.5 million. She got that figure from Seth Stutzman, Whole Foods’ Southwest regional vice president, when she discussed the new store with him two days before the company announced its decision to renovate. Equally as important, Hunt says Stutzman told her that the chain was leaning toward renovation. Hunt says she was disappointed to hear this, and asked: What if the zoning change went through quickly? Stutzman told her it probably wouldn’t make any difference.
I asked Hunt if I could quote her on that, and she said yes. "When Whole Foods says they’re doing this because it would take too long to build, they’re being misleading at best," she told me. "We have an inclusive zoning process, but we don’t have an onerous one. If they want to make a financial business decision, that’s fine. They’re in business to make money, and no one argues with that. But if they’re going to blame the plan commission or the neighborhood, I’m not happy about that."
Whole Foods, though, seems perfectly happy about it. Which is just another mistake it has made.
