According to the Financial Times, Cape Town's population (metropolitan area) grew by 27.6% from 2011 to 2022, landing at approximately 4.77 million. Last year it was estimated at 4.97 million. At the same time, residential property prices increased by about 160% during the period from 2010 to 2024, outpacing all other cities in South Africa. Last year the average price of a home increased by 8.5% in Cape Town versus the national average of 4.5%. And as is the case in most desirable cities around the world, this has some people worried.
But who and what is to blame?
Is it because of tourism? It is estimated that there are some 25,800 active short-term rental listings in the city. Is it digital nomads? South Africa recently launched a Digital Nomad Visa program allowing foreign nationals to live and work in the country provided they can demonstrate an annual income of at least 650,976 ZAR (US$37,500). However, this is a recent thing. Is it foreigners coming with US dollars, euros, and/or pounds? Or is it because of internal migration, which South Africans refer to as "semigration?"
As always, it's a debate. But I think the outcome we are seeing makes intuitive sense for at least three reasons. One, Cape Town is an objectively beautiful and amenity-rich city sandwiched between mountains and the ocean. See above cover photo. It also has a warm and temperate climate. The average high in January (their summer) is 29 degrees and the average high in July (their winter) is 19 degrees. This is a huge competitive advantage — albeit a natural one.
Two, it's a relatively safe place. The above FT article quotes a transplant from Johannesburg saying, "You can't ride your bike in Joburg unless you are in a walled-off estate." If you have the means, that's a strong motivator to move somewhere else. And it's understandably easy to assign a lot of value to safety and security. "Sure, this home may be more expensive, but I can walk to places and ride my bike without fear." That's something worth spending money on.
Lastly, we are all becoming less tethered to specific locations. Digital nomadism and remote work are here to stay. But I don't think this means that people are going to just decentralize and move to the middle of nowhere. I think it means that people are going to increasingly vote with their feet and choose exactly where they want to live their life. What this means is that the need to create better places is only going to become more important. Because more than ever, every place is now in a global competition for talent and investment dollars.
Cover photo by Tobias Reich on Unsplash
Broadly speaking, cities tend to have better data on vehicular traffic than on pedestrian and bicycle traffic. This is because road design has traditionally prioritized the movement of cars, above all else. So it has felt right to bias traffic counts. But there are lots of places where pedestrians and cyclists greatly outnumber vehicles.
For example, I was on Queens Quay yesterday visiting my mom and, if you've ever been to Toronto's waterfront in the summer, you'll know that it has one of the busiest bike lanes/trails in the city — if not the busiest. But if you ask ChatGPT just how busy it is, it will more or less say, "I don't know. Really busy?" And that's because we don't have real-time usage data. We have estimates. And the same is true of pedestrian counts.
(If you're aware of a great dataset, please share it in the comment section below.)
But this is starting to change with the advent of AI traffic monitoring solutions that can handle multi-modal environments. Meaning they're capable of counting everything from pedestrians and scooters to cyclists and trucks. This is what cities need to make better decisions. And as this new tech becomes more widespread, I think it's going to show us just how much we've been missing.
Cover photo by Joshua Chua on Unsplash
23
I like and agree with this tweet: "You can have bad urbanism with good architecture, and good urbanism with bad architecture." The two provided examples of this are (1) Brasilia and (2) what appears to be some random little street in Japan.
Brasilia is the capital of Brazil. It's a masterplanned city designed by Lúcio Costa, Oscar Niemeyer and Joaquim Cardozo in the 1950s. And it was all part of a plan to move the capital from Rio de Janeiro to a more central location in the middle of the country.
The result is some incredible architecture by Oscar Niemeyer that, for me, is emblematic of the country. Brazil was one of the first countries outside of Europe to adopt modern architecture and it's precisely for this reason that Brasilia is high on my list of places to visit. (Rio is also one of my favorite cities.)
But whenever I tell a Brazilian that I want to visit the city, the usual response is, “Why?” I then have to explain that it’s because of Niemeyer and the architecture, and then they say, “Oh, okay, that makes sense. But besides the architecture, there isn’t much else to see or do there.”
Part of the reason for this could be because the city has objectively bad urbanism. When you look at it in plan view, the layout of the city resembles a plane or bird in flight, and that is, I guess, symbolically cool when you view it on Google Maps. But on the ground, cities are not at their best when they're designed around abstract symbols.
They're at their best when they're designed around people. And this is what example number two does well. The architecture is ugly and nondescript, but the street is narrow, the road is shared, and the buildings contain a mix of fine-grained uses.
It's a dead simple approach, but it works — really well. It's good urbanism.
Cover photo by Thandy Yung on Unsplash
