Brandon Donnelly
Daily insights for city builders. Published since 2013 by Toronto-based real estate developer Brandon Donnelly.
Brandon Donnelly
Daily insights for city builders. Published since 2013 by Toronto-based real estate developer Brandon Donnelly.
My friend Alex Feldman just shared this New York Times opinion piece with me. Along with it, he said, "Thought you'd appreciate this." And he was right, because he knows me. He and I have a long history of geeking out about cities, hosteling around Europe together, and booking irresponsible flights at odd times in odd locations.
The article is by Richard Florida, and it's called "Dubai Was Not Built For War." It follows one of the themes that we recently spoke about, here. People come to cities in search of opportunity. Cities are labour markets. But Dubai is perhaps an extreme example of this. You could say it's a city designed almost exclusively for opportunists. From Florida:
Nearly nine in 10 Dubai residents are nonnationals — by far the highest percentage of any major city in the world. Across the Emirates as a whole, about 10 million of 11.4 million residents are foreign nationals. Many are from Britain or the United States, but many more are guest workers who do the service jobs on which the city depends and typically come from South Asia, Southeast Asia and the wider Middle East. Even a traffic violation can trigger deportation. Citizenship is based almost entirely on descent; it’s been intentionally made very difficult for even long-term foreign residents or their children to become Emirati, even after decades of living and working there. The system is designed to rely on migrants while keeping them permanently temporary. That makes it extremely hard to be rooted, to belong, to be attached.
The result is a new urban model ("Dubai-ification") compared to how we used to think about cities:
This new kind of city is a sharp break with the past. For most of human history, people lived and worked in the same place, and cities grew up around that basic fact. They transform, rebuild after fires and disasters and become richer and sometimes poorer, but they draw their resilience from their rootedness, the fact that people feel they belong there. To say “I am a New Yorker” or a Londoner or “I am from Pittsburgh” or Detroit or Rome or Barcelona — that is not just a map. It conveys a deep sense of history, belonging and meaning, a personal identity, not just a transaction. Those identities are messy and unequal, but they are substantial. They are one of the primary ways people answer the basic questions of who they are and where they belong. And they are part of what brings people back to hang on and rebuild, no matter what.
At the time of writing this post, Polymarket shows a less than 50% chance of a ceasefire with Iran by the end of May, and a 71% chance of one by the end of December. That's not 100%. So, we'll see. Maybe it becomes even more protracted. Hopefully not. Regardless, the question everyone is asking is: How many of the "permanently temporary" will actually stick around if they no longer feel safe?
My view is not many.
Cover photo by Christoph Schulz on Unsplash
Entrepreneurship is a critical component of city-building. You want people taking risks, starting new companies, and creating jobs to grow the overall economy. And to accomplish this, you roughly need a bunch of smart people, access to money, and a culture that accepts failure and risk-taking. Then, maybe, you might get some successful startups.
The key word, however, is maybe.
Here's an interesting essay by Jerry Neumann — a retired venture investor — called "We Have Learned Nothing." In it, he argues that there is no science of entrepreneurship:
Of course, no science of entrepreneurship can be a science in the sense most people think of the term. There are no fixed and universal recipes, no ultimate truth. This may be unsatisfying to the aspiring founder, but any science that guaranteed success would bring us right back to the perpetual money machine. The best we can hope for is a science that makes startups meaningfully more likely to succeed and that is honest about the limits of its own prescriptions. And then, when those prescriptions harden into orthodoxy, we try something different. A true science of entrepreneurship embraces the Red Queen dynamic so completely that it rejects any attempt to permanently systematize it.
The "Red Queen hypothesis" is an evolutionary biology concept that states that one has to constantly adapt and evolve just to survive and maintain a position, never mind make any progress. It follows that as soon as you stop innovating as a company, you don't just stay where you are; you fall behind. And that's because the entire landscape is constantly shifting around you. Neumann argues that this is a better mental model for startups and that it's a fool's errand to try to permanently codify what it takes to create a successful one.
I'm going to take this even further and say that the same is true for cities. It's not enough to just follow "best practices" and copy what has been successful in other places. There is no set formula for urban leadership. Cities are rewarded most for being different, and for doing that different thing first. This is particularly true in a world of increasing global sameness. Creating a replica of the London Eye or New York's High Line will not magically turn you into a comparable global city. It is a recipe for mediocrity.
Now that the results from Paris' first round of municipal elections are in, I thought I would do a follow-up to my post from a few days ago (which was mostly about bicycles). The second and final round happens this weekend, but here's what we've learned so far:
My friend Alex Feldman just shared this New York Times opinion piece with me. Along with it, he said, "Thought you'd appreciate this." And he was right, because he knows me. He and I have a long history of geeking out about cities, hosteling around Europe together, and booking irresponsible flights at odd times in odd locations.
The article is by Richard Florida, and it's called "Dubai Was Not Built For War." It follows one of the themes that we recently spoke about, here. People come to cities in search of opportunity. Cities are labour markets. But Dubai is perhaps an extreme example of this. You could say it's a city designed almost exclusively for opportunists. From Florida:
Nearly nine in 10 Dubai residents are nonnationals — by far the highest percentage of any major city in the world. Across the Emirates as a whole, about 10 million of 11.4 million residents are foreign nationals. Many are from Britain or the United States, but many more are guest workers who do the service jobs on which the city depends and typically come from South Asia, Southeast Asia and the wider Middle East. Even a traffic violation can trigger deportation. Citizenship is based almost entirely on descent; it’s been intentionally made very difficult for even long-term foreign residents or their children to become Emirati, even after decades of living and working there. The system is designed to rely on migrants while keeping them permanently temporary. That makes it extremely hard to be rooted, to belong, to be attached.
The result is a new urban model ("Dubai-ification") compared to how we used to think about cities:
This new kind of city is a sharp break with the past. For most of human history, people lived and worked in the same place, and cities grew up around that basic fact. They transform, rebuild after fires and disasters and become richer and sometimes poorer, but they draw their resilience from their rootedness, the fact that people feel they belong there. To say “I am a New Yorker” or a Londoner or “I am from Pittsburgh” or Detroit or Rome or Barcelona — that is not just a map. It conveys a deep sense of history, belonging and meaning, a personal identity, not just a transaction. Those identities are messy and unequal, but they are substantial. They are one of the primary ways people answer the basic questions of who they are and where they belong. And they are part of what brings people back to hang on and rebuild, no matter what.
At the time of writing this post, Polymarket shows a less than 50% chance of a ceasefire with Iran by the end of May, and a 71% chance of one by the end of December. That's not 100%. So, we'll see. Maybe it becomes even more protracted. Hopefully not. Regardless, the question everyone is asking is: How many of the "permanently temporary" will actually stick around if they no longer feel safe?
My view is not many.
Cover photo by Christoph Schulz on Unsplash
Entrepreneurship is a critical component of city-building. You want people taking risks, starting new companies, and creating jobs to grow the overall economy. And to accomplish this, you roughly need a bunch of smart people, access to money, and a culture that accepts failure and risk-taking. Then, maybe, you might get some successful startups.
The key word, however, is maybe.
Here's an interesting essay by Jerry Neumann — a retired venture investor — called "We Have Learned Nothing." In it, he argues that there is no science of entrepreneurship:
Of course, no science of entrepreneurship can be a science in the sense most people think of the term. There are no fixed and universal recipes, no ultimate truth. This may be unsatisfying to the aspiring founder, but any science that guaranteed success would bring us right back to the perpetual money machine. The best we can hope for is a science that makes startups meaningfully more likely to succeed and that is honest about the limits of its own prescriptions. And then, when those prescriptions harden into orthodoxy, we try something different. A true science of entrepreneurship embraces the Red Queen dynamic so completely that it rejects any attempt to permanently systematize it.
The "Red Queen hypothesis" is an evolutionary biology concept that states that one has to constantly adapt and evolve just to survive and maintain a position, never mind make any progress. It follows that as soon as you stop innovating as a company, you don't just stay where you are; you fall behind. And that's because the entire landscape is constantly shifting around you. Neumann argues that this is a better mental model for startups and that it's a fool's errand to try to permanently codify what it takes to create a successful one.
I'm going to take this even further and say that the same is true for cities. It's not enough to just follow "best practices" and copy what has been successful in other places. There is no set formula for urban leadership. Cities are rewarded most for being different, and for doing that different thing first. This is particularly true in a world of increasing global sameness. Creating a replica of the London Eye or New York's High Line will not magically turn you into a comparable global city. It is a recipe for mediocrity.
Now that the results from Paris' first round of municipal elections are in, I thought I would do a follow-up to my post from a few days ago (which was mostly about bicycles). The second and final round happens this weekend, but here's what we've learned so far:
Cover photo by Laine Cooper on Unsplash
Emmanuel Grégoire (Union of the Left) is in the lead with 37.98% of the vote:
And Rachida Dati (Union of the Right) is in second with 25.46% of the vote:
What is not unexpected, but super interesting nonetheless, is the clear divide between the west and east within Paris proper. The west voted right, and the east voted left.
Here in Toronto, our voting maps typically exhibit a semi-clear divide between "Old Toronto" and the inner suburbs. For example, these are the results from our 2023 mayoral by-election:
Conveniently, it is a divide that loosely tracks the city's built form. If you live in the oldest parts of the city, where transit usage is higher and there's rail in the middle of the street, there's a higher probability that you voted for Chow. The inner suburbs, on the other hand, tended to vote for Bailão.
In the case of Paris, there isn't the same built form contrast. This is not an urban-suburban divide; it's a socio-economic divide. The western arrondissements have historically been the wealthiest areas of Paris (for a variety of reasons), and that continually appears in the voting patterns.
It also shows up in the modal splits. The western arrondissements tend to have higher car ownership rates compared to the east. These basic facts are interesting because Paris represents more of a controlled urban experiment, in contrast to Toronto's dense downtown and otherwise generally low-rise built form.
But in the end, I'm not sure the political mappings of Paris and Toronto are all that different. If you look closely at Toronto's 2023 by-election map, you'll see that the wealthiest pockets of the city voted exactly as you would expect. Turns out, bank balances may matter more than built form.
Cover photo by Maximilian Zahn on Unsplash
Cover photo by Laine Cooper on Unsplash
Emmanuel Grégoire (Union of the Left) is in the lead with 37.98% of the vote:
And Rachida Dati (Union of the Right) is in second with 25.46% of the vote:
What is not unexpected, but super interesting nonetheless, is the clear divide between the west and east within Paris proper. The west voted right, and the east voted left.
Here in Toronto, our voting maps typically exhibit a semi-clear divide between "Old Toronto" and the inner suburbs. For example, these are the results from our 2023 mayoral by-election:
Conveniently, it is a divide that loosely tracks the city's built form. If you live in the oldest parts of the city, where transit usage is higher and there's rail in the middle of the street, there's a higher probability that you voted for Chow. The inner suburbs, on the other hand, tended to vote for Bailão.
In the case of Paris, there isn't the same built form contrast. This is not an urban-suburban divide; it's a socio-economic divide. The western arrondissements have historically been the wealthiest areas of Paris (for a variety of reasons), and that continually appears in the voting patterns.
It also shows up in the modal splits. The western arrondissements tend to have higher car ownership rates compared to the east. These basic facts are interesting because Paris represents more of a controlled urban experiment, in contrast to Toronto's dense downtown and otherwise generally low-rise built form.
But in the end, I'm not sure the political mappings of Paris and Toronto are all that different. If you look closely at Toronto's 2023 by-election map, you'll see that the wealthiest pockets of the city voted exactly as you would expect. Turns out, bank balances may matter more than built form.
Cover photo by Maximilian Zahn on Unsplash
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