Opinion
Urban planning expert Edward T. McMahon once said, “Growth is inevitable and desirable, but destruction of community character is not. The question is not whether your part of the world is going to change. The question is how.”
Ocean City, New Jersey faces a critical moment of decision-making as it considers the future of its Boardwalk and the former Wonderland Pier. A few weeks ago, Ocean City Council President Terry Crowley Jr. announced the formation of an autonomous subcommittee whose job is to make recommendations to the Planning Committee regarding a Master Plan and the city’s next steps for boardwalk development from Fifth to 14th streets.
This subcommittee has the challenging task of finding the right balance between competing priorities: supporting the city’s small business community, whose livelihoods depend on immediate foot traffic, promoting growth and development for the future, and also preserving the long-term character, scale and family-friendly nature of Ocean City.
The question of character — and just what draws people to the town — is not one to be taken lightly. The pressure to build bigger, higher and faster can seem inevitable. But it can come with costs that are not immediately obvious — increased infrastructure burdens, loss of the unique history and character, and eventually displacement of local businesses in favor of corporate chains that can afford high rents. It takes genuine courage and intentionality to build differently, and Ocean City must determine what kind of place it ultimately wants to be.
As they consider their options, the subcommittee might wish to look at the tale of two Ocean Cities: Ocean City, Maryland, and Ocean City, New Jersey. Both well-known resort towns are home to beaches, marinas and boardwalks, but a closer look reveals critical differences in character and experiences that have profound effects on each community — the direct result of intentional development and planning choices. Variables of scale, design and policy can transform similar landscapes in starkly different ways.
At first glance, the most obvious distinction between the two cities is vertical. Ocean City, Maryland is home to more than 27 high-rise buildings, including numerous towers along the Coastal Highway; its tallest, Century I, stands 25 stories tall. The city utilizes urban architecture — metal panel systems, contemporary glazing, standardized balcony railings — found in many commercial resort towns. The psychological result is a boardwalk experience that feels quite separate from the town beyond. The message for visitors is that the densely developed boardwalk is the destination, a complete environment unto itself where everything is contained
in a vertical “village” of commercial retail and dining on the ground floor and upper-floor residences and hotel rooms elevated above.
Ocean City, New Jersey maintains a remarkably different profile. Here, the buildings rarely exceed two stories, with most commercial structures holding to one. This isn’t accidental—it’s the result of deliberate planning decisions that prioritize human scale and historic character. The storefronts display a varied roofline: the Mission Revival elements of the white stuccoed building on the left, the peaked gables of the arcade structures, the simple commercial vernacular of other stores. This variation creates visual rhythm rather than uniformity, each building maintaining its individual identity within the ensemble. The city planning also invites exploration and interaction beyond the boardwalk itself with residential streets and the human-scaled neighborhoods just a block or two away.
Inside the stores, shopkeepers are visible at their counters, not remote behind corporate structures. The experience suggests history, local ownership and individual entrepreneurship — the kind of place a family business can thrive without the prohibitive capital needed to rent commercial space in a tower. In this way, architectural accessibility translates to social accessibility. Visitors have a real sense of the town and the people living in it beyond the commercial strip.
As such, walking these two towns feels entirely different. Ocean City, Maryland’s boardwalk, with its crowds and vertical massing, creates what urban theorists call “activation” — a sense of energy and spectacle — but also anonymity. It’s a resort destination known for its busy nightlife, loud bars and party atmosphere. Ocean City, New Jersey’s boardwalk offers a contrasting experience. The width of the boardwalk relative to building height utilizes what architects call a comfortable “aspect ratio” — the mathematical relationship between vertical and horizontal dimensions that determines whether a space feels enclosed or open. Here, the sky and the sea remain the dominant elements. In Ocean City, Maryland, the tall buildings cast substantial shadows across the boardwalk, creating zones of light and shade that shift throughout the day. Ocean City, New Jersey’s low profile allows light to wash across the entire boardwalk relatively uniformly. The buildings receive light rather than interrupt it. As a “dry town” that does not sell alcohol, Ocean City, New Jersey, is also known to be quieter, more relaxed and very family-friendly.
An Ocean City for tomorrow
Up until now, Ocean City, New Jersey’s regulations, while sometimes controversial among property owners, have served as essential protections against wholesale transformation akin to what Ocean City, Maryland, has undergone.
That’s not to diminish Ocean City, Maryland’s appeal or success — it serves its market well. But historical uniqueness and local charm, once traded away for more generic development, cannot be bought back. Any shore town could become Ocean City, Maryland. But not any shore town can become Ocean City, New Jersey.
It will be important that Ocean City, New Jersey, understands its value and has the discipline to protect it. While some may argue that this restraint is backwards-looking sentimentality, it can be equally argued that this is forward-thinking preservation of an increasingly scarce and irreplaceable resource. Ocean City, New Jersey, should in no way reject progress, but it should define it on its own terms.
Standing on either boardwalk at sunset, watching the light fade over the Atlantic, we’re invited to pause and find our place along the ocean’s edge. But only one offers that pause in a setting that couldn’t exist anywhere else — and that makes all the difference.
