When Westfield purchased Horton Plaza in the late 1990s, the vibrant 1985-era mall—designed by Jon Jerde with bright colors, jarring spatial rhythms, and pedestrian adventure in mind—still stood as a symbol of urban revitalization, helping reshape downtown retail culture. But by 2016, the property had devolved into an echo of itself, its architecture no longer charming but inaccessible, and its tenant base thinning as foot traffic moved elsewhere.
In 2018, Stockdale Capital Partners acquired the mall with bold ambitions: convert it into The Campus at Horton, a live-work-play "innovation hub" anchored by tech, biotech, and life science tenants, bolstered by retail and food amenities. Phase 1 began in earnest with financing secured - more than $330 million in construction loans by early 2020, eventually soaring to $398.5 million.
Yet the project's downfall followed swiftly. The onset of the pandemic emptied the demand for downtown office space. Tech tenants stayed remote; life science firms bypassed the location. And despite installing wet labs in the former Nordstrom "Building 100," interest never materialized.
By early 2025, the project had stalled in foreclosure. Auctions in August drew no bidders for the campus or the surrounding city-owned park, signifying that even the lender, AllianceBernstein - now the project’s owner - lacks a clear path forward. Outstanding lawsuits, tenant claims - like a fitness business seeking $1.9 million for unrecoverable build-out costs - and unfinished construction issues such as water intrusion continue to plague the site.
The failure of Horton Plaza’s reinvention stemmed from several interconnected missteps. Stockdale misread the downtown market dynamics by targeting Bay Area tech companies and then pivoting to life sciences, two sectors that showed little appetite for a new and unproven downtown location. Their redevelopment plan lacked integration with the surrounding community, building upon the mall’s legacy as an inward-facing fortress rather than reimagining it as an open, civic-minded space.
The economic timing proved disastrous, as large-scale borrowing left the project over-leveraged just as COVID-19 and shifting work habits undermined the office market. Even the architectural approach drew criticism, with the San Diego Architectural Foundation giving the redevelopment an "Onion" award for neglecting the public realm and civic responsibility.
Despite the collapse, downtown boosters remain cautiously optimistic that the site could still see a second chance. With the Downtown San Diego Partnership and the Prebys Foundation advancing Civic Center redevelopment planning, the Campus at Horton may yet play a role - but only if future efforts tether public benefit to financial feasibility.
This saga isn’t just a singular failure - it's a lesson in humility. It underscores the perils of betting big on a single vision and expecting a late-2010s-style downtown demand to hold across decades. For Horton Plaza, the next chapter depends on whether San Diego can balance ambition with adaptability, and history with present needs - even after dreaming big.
The failure of Horton Plaza’s reinvention stemmed from several interconnected missteps. Stockdale misread the downtown market dynamics by targeting Bay Area tech companies and then pivoting to life sciences, two sectors that showed little appetite for a new and unproven downtown location. Their redevelopment plan lacked integration with the surrounding community, building upon the mall’s legacy as an inward-facing fortress rather than reimagining it as an open, civic-minded space.
The economic timing proved disastrous, as large-scale borrowing left the project over-leveraged just as COVID-19 and shifting work habits undermined the office market. Even the architectural approach drew criticism, with the San Diego Architectural Foundation giving the redevelopment an "Onion" award for neglecting the public realm and civic responsibility.
Despite the collapse, downtown boosters remain cautiously optimistic that the site could still see a second chance. With the Downtown San Diego Partnership and the Prebys Foundation advancing Civic Center redevelopment planning, the Campus at Horton may yet play a role - but only if future efforts tether public benefit to financial feasibility.
This saga isn’t just a singular failure - it's a lesson in humility. It underscores the perils of betting big on a single vision and expecting a late-2010s-style downtown demand to hold across decades. For Horton Plaza, the next chapter depends on whether San Diego can balance ambition with adaptability, and history with present needs - even after dreaming big.
Originally published on August 19, 2025.
