Puyallup's Silent Growth: Why We Don't Care About Our Own City

This week, Puyallup's Parks & Recreation department announced summer programs—karate classes, cookie decorating, specialty camps—and got zero reactions. Meanwhile, the city approved a 62-home subdivision on 4.78 acres, a development that will reshape neighborhoods for decades, and it too received no public comment. This isn't a coincidence. It's the latest symptom of a city that has become expertly invisible to itself.

The data doesn't lie. The city's most impactful decisions—like the recent approval of a 62-home infill project—happen in the shadows of bureaucratic language and process, while the things people actually care about—like youth programs or neighborhood events—get buried in the noise. The lack of engagement on the subdivision isn't because residents don't care; it's because the system is designed to make them feel powerless. When the city talks about SEPA filings and permit notices, it's speaking a language that only city staff understand. By the time the public realizes what's happening, the decision is already made.

This isn't just about one development. It's about how the city has turned civic participation into a spectator sport. People only show up when something hits their front door—like a new traffic signal or a sudden noise complaint. But by then, it's too late to shape the outcome. The Arts & Culture Advisory Board and Senior Advisory Board are full of volunteers, but the city's development decisions are made in boardrooms, not community meetings. The water rescue team operates with no public input, yet the city's growth plans are decided without a single public hearing.

The real danger here isn't the lack of engagement—it's the assumption that we don't need it. The city has become so good at moving forward without us that it's forgotten how to ask for our input. And we've become so accustomed to being left out that we don't even notice it anymore. The silence isn't just about the lack of comments; it's about the absence of a shared understanding of what the city is becoming.

Puyallup's next big decision will be made without us, and we'll find out about it in the mail. But this week, we have a choice: we can keep running our morning routes, disconnected from the city we're supposed to be part of, or we can start demanding that the city stop treating us like spectators. The time to act isn't when the subdivision is built—it's before the permits are signed.