It seems like just yesterday that people were protesting Uber for disrupting the traditional taxi business. Now the question has become: are AVs about to disrupt Uber?
Over the last six months, Uber's stock price has declined nearly 19%. At the time of writing this post, its market cap is around $155 billion, compared to Waymo's private market valuation of $126 billion (though I'm sure many would argue this is a wee bit high).
The market seems to think that self-driving cars are a two-horse race between Waymo and Tesla. If this is true, what role will Uber play?
Uber has naturally tried to assuage concerns. Alongside their Q4 2025 earnings, they
It seems like just yesterday that people were protesting Uber for disrupting the traditional taxi business. Now the question has become: are AVs about to disrupt Uber?
Over the last six months, Uber's stock price has declined nearly 19%. At the time of writing this post, its market cap is around $155 billion, compared to Waymo's private market valuation of $126 billion (though I'm sure many would argue this is a wee bit high).
The market seems to think that self-driving cars are a two-horse race between Waymo and Tesla. If this is true, what role will Uber play?
Uber has naturally tried to assuage concerns. Alongside their Q4 2025 earnings, they
a 13-page "spotlight" on AVs, where they argued, don't worry, everything is fine:
AVs will change how trips are supplied, but not how demand is aggregated. History suggests that over time as supply fragments and technology commoditizes, the platform that can bring the highest utilization to assets, and superior reliability to customers, will capture a large share of value. That is the role Uber is set up to play.
One of the arguments for this is that rideshare demand is highly variable throughout a week. A typical Monday can be less than half of a Saturday night, and daily troughs can decline to something like 5% of peaks.
So, if you try and service this demand variability with only AVs, you're going to have a lot of underutilized vehicles during off-peak times. This makes sense to me right now, but I'm not certain it will persist or always matter as the space evolves.
When Uber sold its AV division in 2020, I understood why (to try and reach profitability), but it always felt a little unsettling to me. AVs were very clearly the future — are you sure you want to sell this off?
Now I suspect they'll have to re-enter in a meaningful way. They're going to need to do it as long as the market continues to believe the current narrative.
I use Uber on a regular basis, but I already have the Waymo app on my phone (I downloaded it on a long layover in SFO where I contemplated a joy ride). As soon as rides become available in Toronto at reasonable prices, I wouldn't think twice about switching.
There is a school of thought that elevated rail is bad, or at least suboptimal, for cities. The thinking is that it's a visual blight, it's noisy, it disconnects neighbourhoods, and it can even reduce surrounding real estate values. Having a train passing directly in front of your window is admittedly less ideal than not having a train passing directly in front of your window.
But there is no shortage of examples from around the world where elevated rail does far more to benefit a community than detract from it. Tokyo is perhaps the obvious place to look. It is decidedly rail-oriented city with the majority of its network above ground and countless examples of active commercial spaces being tucked under and adjacent to elevated rail.
Here, for example, is a restaurant that I visited on my last trip and that was immediately adjacent to a track:
But you don't have to travel all the way to Japan to find examples where elevated rail does little to detract from the urban experience. Here's Marine Drive station in Vancouver, integrated into a newish development:
And here's what the elevated guideway looks like as it heads toward the station:
The obvious advantage of elevated rail is that it's significantly cheaper than underground rail. According to global data collected by the Transit Costs Project at New York University, underground rail tends to be at least 2x the cost — often it's even more. Are the benefits worth this additional cost, and is it worth building less overall transit with the same capital budget?
Elevated rail is not without its drawbacks, but good design and urban sensibilities can help to mitigate many of them. As is the case with a lot of urban design, what matters most is how we treat the ground plane underneath the rail. So, to the extent that it remains out there, I think it's time we get rid of any stigmas associated with elevated rail. More transit is better than less transit.
Read through planning documents across North America and you're bound to find language that refers to low-rise residential neighbourhoods as "physically stable areas" where the "existing neighbourhood character" is paramount. But to be more precise, what this kind of language is actually saying is not that these neighbourhoods need to be broadly stable; it is saying that they just need to look more or less stable.
Here in Toronto, for example, it has been widely documented that many of our low-rise neighbourhoods are losing people. Household sizes are getting smaller, and houses that used to be subdivided are being returned to single-family use. A similar thing is happening in other cities like New York:
Bloomberg News recently reported that since 2004, at least 9,300 homes have been lost as a result of multi-family buildings getting "rolled up" into single-family homes. More recently, the city has even seen an increase in people combining two or more buildings into large urban mansions.
And while the total number of homes removed is relatively small for New York as a whole, it can be quite impactful to individual neighbourhoods. In the West Village, where there's a high concentration of rowhomes and townhouses, Bloomberg estimates that one out of every six small apartment buildings has been rolled up into a single-family home since 2004!
From a built form standpoint, you could say these are "physically stable" areas that are obediently adhering to their existing neighbourhood character. But under the hood and behind their street walls, they are clearly changing.
It is one of the great ironies of city building. People often fear new development because they worry it might disrupt the character of a neighbourhood. But preventing development does not guarantee stasis. In fact, we know that not building new housing actually increases the pressures felt on a city's existing housing stock, as people compete for a more fixed amount of supply.
The wealthy can always outbid the less wealthy on housing. So if you don't provide any new options, the wealthy will just buy up the existing stuff and turn it into what they want. Alternatively, you can build more housing and create a "moving chain" that frees up more existing housing for people of lower incomes.
a 13-page "spotlight" on AVs, where they argued, don't worry, everything is fine:
AVs will change how trips are supplied, but not how demand is aggregated. History suggests that over time as supply fragments and technology commoditizes, the platform that can bring the highest utilization to assets, and superior reliability to customers, will capture a large share of value. That is the role Uber is set up to play.
One of the arguments for this is that rideshare demand is highly variable throughout a week. A typical Monday can be less than half of a Saturday night, and daily troughs can decline to something like 5% of peaks.
So, if you try and service this demand variability with only AVs, you're going to have a lot of underutilized vehicles during off-peak times. This makes sense to me right now, but I'm not certain it will persist or always matter as the space evolves.
When Uber sold its AV division in 2020, I understood why (to try and reach profitability), but it always felt a little unsettling to me. AVs were very clearly the future — are you sure you want to sell this off?
Now I suspect they'll have to re-enter in a meaningful way. They're going to need to do it as long as the market continues to believe the current narrative.
I use Uber on a regular basis, but I already have the Waymo app on my phone (I downloaded it on a long layover in SFO where I contemplated a joy ride). As soon as rides become available in Toronto at reasonable prices, I wouldn't think twice about switching.
There is a school of thought that elevated rail is bad, or at least suboptimal, for cities. The thinking is that it's a visual blight, it's noisy, it disconnects neighbourhoods, and it can even reduce surrounding real estate values. Having a train passing directly in front of your window is admittedly less ideal than not having a train passing directly in front of your window.
But there is no shortage of examples from around the world where elevated rail does far more to benefit a community than detract from it. Tokyo is perhaps the obvious place to look. It is decidedly rail-oriented city with the majority of its network above ground and countless examples of active commercial spaces being tucked under and adjacent to elevated rail.
Here, for example, is a restaurant that I visited on my last trip and that was immediately adjacent to a track:
But you don't have to travel all the way to Japan to find examples where elevated rail does little to detract from the urban experience. Here's Marine Drive station in Vancouver, integrated into a newish development:
And here's what the elevated guideway looks like as it heads toward the station:
The obvious advantage of elevated rail is that it's significantly cheaper than underground rail. According to global data collected by the Transit Costs Project at New York University, underground rail tends to be at least 2x the cost — often it's even more. Are the benefits worth this additional cost, and is it worth building less overall transit with the same capital budget?
Elevated rail is not without its drawbacks, but good design and urban sensibilities can help to mitigate many of them. As is the case with a lot of urban design, what matters most is how we treat the ground plane underneath the rail. So, to the extent that it remains out there, I think it's time we get rid of any stigmas associated with elevated rail. More transit is better than less transit.
Read through planning documents across North America and you're bound to find language that refers to low-rise residential neighbourhoods as "physically stable areas" where the "existing neighbourhood character" is paramount. But to be more precise, what this kind of language is actually saying is not that these neighbourhoods need to be broadly stable; it is saying that they just need to look more or less stable.
Here in Toronto, for example, it has been widely documented that many of our low-rise neighbourhoods are losing people. Household sizes are getting smaller, and houses that used to be subdivided are being returned to single-family use. A similar thing is happening in other cities like New York:
Bloomberg News recently reported that since 2004, at least 9,300 homes have been lost as a result of multi-family buildings getting "rolled up" into single-family homes. More recently, the city has even seen an increase in people combining two or more buildings into large urban mansions.
And while the total number of homes removed is relatively small for New York as a whole, it can be quite impactful to individual neighbourhoods. In the West Village, where there's a high concentration of rowhomes and townhouses, Bloomberg estimates that one out of every six small apartment buildings has been rolled up into a single-family home since 2004!
From a built form standpoint, you could say these are "physically stable" areas that are obediently adhering to their existing neighbourhood character. But under the hood and behind their street walls, they are clearly changing.
It is one of the great ironies of city building. People often fear new development because they worry it might disrupt the character of a neighbourhood. But preventing development does not guarantee stasis. In fact, we know that not building new housing actually increases the pressures felt on a city's existing housing stock, as people compete for a more fixed amount of supply.
The wealthy can always outbid the less wealthy on housing. So if you don't provide any new options, the wealthy will just buy up the existing stuff and turn it into what they want. Alternatively, you can build more housing and create a "moving chain" that frees up more existing housing for people of lower incomes.
