Miami is a popular place these days for a whole host of reasons, namely that it's sunny and warm, it doesn't have state income taxes, and the broader market doesn't seem to think that climate risk will pose an insurmountable challenge in the foreseeable future.
But beneath the surface, there are shifts taking place. HOA fees and insurance premiums are rising (some people have a different view of climate risk), and the city is becoming increasingly unaffordable for the middle class.
Between July 2024 and July 2025, Miami-Dade County lost an estimated 10,115 residents. This was the third-largest absolute population drop of all US counties last year, though it should be noted that this can be largely explained by changing immigration policies and a meaningful decrease in international migration.
There are still plenty of people moving to the city; they just tend to skew richer. According to data from 2023, the average inbound salary was $178,000, and the average outbound salary was $89,000. The net result (via the Miami Herald):
Higher earners are moving here, lower-wage workers are leaving and the population as a whole has started to shrink. That's not good for a community's long-term economic health.
Wealth is a good thing. But is it now too much of a good thing? At the very least, it demonstrates the fragility of finding the elusive equilibrium between being a successful city and remaining affordable and accessible to the middle class.
To paraphrase Jane Jacobs, "The more successful a city is, the more it is under pressure to be something else."
Cover photo by Sarah Thorenz on Unsplash
It is very common for jurisdictions to mandate the use of a licensed architect when building homes and buildings above a certain size. This is true in Ontario, and it's true in places like France, though the thresholds can vary widely and change over time. Currently, the threshold is 150 m2 in France. Okay, so what? Well, it turns out this simple rule has second-order consequences, as they often do.
Here's a fascinating research paper by Antoine Levy titled Regulating Housing Quality: Evidence from France. One of the things he looks at is the distribution of floor area in new housing units over time, from before there was an architect requirement threshold (ART), to the moments where this threshold was gradually lowered:
This is a follow-up to yesterday's post about too many people allegedly speculating on underutilized urban land. Over the weekend, I saw Patrick Condon, a professor at UBC and author of the book "Broken City: Land Speculation, Inequality, and Urban Crisis," argue that "urban land is the impossible-to-ignore driver of the housing crisis." Is it really? Let me offer the developer's perspective and explain what has happened in Toronto.
It is certainly true that the price of development land appreciated rapidly toward the end of the last cycle and that, at the time, there was enough margin for developers to bifurcate the work of zoning land and actually building out projects. But since 2022, that has gone away, and we have seen a dramatic correction in pricing.
According to Bullpen and Batory's Q4-2025 High-Rise Land Insights Report, the average sold price for a high-density site in the GTA has gone from $119 per buildable square foot in 2019 to $78 per buildable square foot at the end of last year (a ~34% decline).
But this is a blended average. In my experience, the falloff in pricing has been even more dramatic and, in many cases, land now feels illiquid. With rents declining and new condominiums not selling, what's the value? Land prices are a function of what you can do with the land. If what you can do disappears, so too does the value. Land is not the problem right now.
But even if we were to ignore current market factors, it's debatable whether land prices were really the primary driver of unaffordable housing. About six years ago, Toronto developer Urban Capital
Miami is a popular place these days for a whole host of reasons, namely that it's sunny and warm, it doesn't have state income taxes, and the broader market doesn't seem to think that climate risk will pose an insurmountable challenge in the foreseeable future.
But beneath the surface, there are shifts taking place. HOA fees and insurance premiums are rising (some people have a different view of climate risk), and the city is becoming increasingly unaffordable for the middle class.
Between July 2024 and July 2025, Miami-Dade County lost an estimated 10,115 residents. This was the third-largest absolute population drop of all US counties last year, though it should be noted that this can be largely explained by changing immigration policies and a meaningful decrease in international migration.
There are still plenty of people moving to the city; they just tend to skew richer. According to data from 2023, the average inbound salary was $178,000, and the average outbound salary was $89,000. The net result (via the Miami Herald):
Higher earners are moving here, lower-wage workers are leaving and the population as a whole has started to shrink. That's not good for a community's long-term economic health.
Wealth is a good thing. But is it now too much of a good thing? At the very least, it demonstrates the fragility of finding the elusive equilibrium between being a successful city and remaining affordable and accessible to the middle class.
To paraphrase Jane Jacobs, "The more successful a city is, the more it is under pressure to be something else."
Cover photo by Sarah Thorenz on Unsplash
It is very common for jurisdictions to mandate the use of a licensed architect when building homes and buildings above a certain size. This is true in Ontario, and it's true in places like France, though the thresholds can vary widely and change over time. Currently, the threshold is 150 m2 in France. Okay, so what? Well, it turns out this simple rule has second-order consequences, as they often do.
Here's a fascinating research paper by Antoine Levy titled Regulating Housing Quality: Evidence from France. One of the things he looks at is the distribution of floor area in new housing units over time, from before there was an architect requirement threshold (ART), to the moments where this threshold was gradually lowered:
This is a follow-up to yesterday's post about too many people allegedly speculating on underutilized urban land. Over the weekend, I saw Patrick Condon, a professor at UBC and author of the book "Broken City: Land Speculation, Inequality, and Urban Crisis," argue that "urban land is the impossible-to-ignore driver of the housing crisis." Is it really? Let me offer the developer's perspective and explain what has happened in Toronto.
It is certainly true that the price of development land appreciated rapidly toward the end of the last cycle and that, at the time, there was enough margin for developers to bifurcate the work of zoning land and actually building out projects. But since 2022, that has gone away, and we have seen a dramatic correction in pricing.
According to Bullpen and Batory's Q4-2025 High-Rise Land Insights Report, the average sold price for a high-density site in the GTA has gone from $119 per buildable square foot in 2019 to $78 per buildable square foot at the end of last year (a ~34% decline).
But this is a blended average. In my experience, the falloff in pricing has been even more dramatic and, in many cases, land now feels illiquid. With rents declining and new condominiums not selling, what's the value? Land prices are a function of what you can do with the land. If what you can do disappears, so too does the value. Land is not the problem right now.
But even if we were to ignore current market factors, it's debatable whether land prices were really the primary driver of unaffordable housing. About six years ago, Toronto developer Urban Capital
Prior to there being a threshold (1976), the chart shows a positive skew, but with a clustering of homes somewhere around 100 m2. Importantly, the distribution shows a smooth progression. But once an ART is implemented, the distribution then starts to show a clear spike right before the threshold, followed by a cliff and a "missing mass."
This, of course, makes sense. The market is pushing up against the glass to avoid having to use and pay for an architect. And the "missing mass" is the market shifting supply to below the threshold, or sufficiently beyond it. I mean, if you're going to surpass the threshold, you may as well do it confidently.
Now here's where things start to get more interesting. Levy finds that this threshold acts as a focal point that segments the market. Households above the threshold tend to have higher incomes, and homes just past the limit were on average 8-10% more expensive to build. This additional cost cannot be justified by the addition of the architect's fee alone.
On the other side of the threshold, the concentration of demand "up against the glass" was shown to create economies of scale through more standardized home design and production. In other words, the threshold incentivizes the market to get really good at designing and building a certain scale of home.
It was also shown to unintentionally promote greater housing density, because what the threshold does is create a soft cap on housing consumption for a large segment of the market. As you can see in the bottom right chart above, it effectively pulls supply back and under the threshold, away from larger homes and larger lots.
It may seem fairly innocuous to mandate that people use an architect above a certain scale, and I will forever be a proponent of great design, but as Thomas Sowell once said, "there are no solutions, only trade-offs."
Cover photo by Alex Tyson on Unsplash
What they found over this 15-year period was that construction costs increased by 91%, land costs increased by 160%, and government fees and taxes increased by some 413% (development charges alone increased by 3,244%!). The price of development land certainly increased, surpassing the rate of inflation, but we can't ignore that roughly a third of the price of a new home became government fees and taxes.
Today, there are countless development models that don't pencil even if you plug the land value in at $0. That tells me that we've got bigger problems.
Cover photo by Patrick Tomasso on Unsplash
Prior to there being a threshold (1976), the chart shows a positive skew, but with a clustering of homes somewhere around 100 m2. Importantly, the distribution shows a smooth progression. But once an ART is implemented, the distribution then starts to show a clear spike right before the threshold, followed by a cliff and a "missing mass."
This, of course, makes sense. The market is pushing up against the glass to avoid having to use and pay for an architect. And the "missing mass" is the market shifting supply to below the threshold, or sufficiently beyond it. I mean, if you're going to surpass the threshold, you may as well do it confidently.
Now here's where things start to get more interesting. Levy finds that this threshold acts as a focal point that segments the market. Households above the threshold tend to have higher incomes, and homes just past the limit were on average 8-10% more expensive to build. This additional cost cannot be justified by the addition of the architect's fee alone.
On the other side of the threshold, the concentration of demand "up against the glass" was shown to create economies of scale through more standardized home design and production. In other words, the threshold incentivizes the market to get really good at designing and building a certain scale of home.
It was also shown to unintentionally promote greater housing density, because what the threshold does is create a soft cap on housing consumption for a large segment of the market. As you can see in the bottom right chart above, it effectively pulls supply back and under the threshold, away from larger homes and larger lots.
It may seem fairly innocuous to mandate that people use an architect above a certain scale, and I will forever be a proponent of great design, but as Thomas Sowell once said, "there are no solutions, only trade-offs."
Cover photo by Alex Tyson on Unsplash
What they found over this 15-year period was that construction costs increased by 91%, land costs increased by 160%, and government fees and taxes increased by some 413% (development charges alone increased by 3,244%!). The price of development land certainly increased, surpassing the rate of inflation, but we can't ignore that roughly a third of the price of a new home became government fees and taxes.
Today, there are countless development models that don't pencil even if you plug the land value in at $0. That tells me that we've got bigger problems.
Cover photo by Patrick Tomasso on Unsplash
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