My sense is that density is a misunderstood characteristic of successful cities. I think most people see it as a bug. They see some of the negative externalities associated with cities, such as traffic congestion, and they assume that the culprit is too many people.

But they are confusing population density with land-use inefficiencies. This, I can only assume, is why some people arrive at the selfish conclusion that their city is full.

There are, of course, many counterexamples to this line of thinking. Paris, Seoul, Barcelona, Singapore, Tokyo, and many others have both high population density and are viewed as being highly livable and desirable cities.

Not all high-density cities are livable, but that's because other ingredients are missing. I will remind you that Tokyo once again placed first in Monocle's annual quality-of-life survey this year.

What I think gets missed are the following three key features of urban density.

One, dense cities dramatically lower the cost of delivering infrastructure over the long term and reduce per capita energy consumption.

Two, cities are wealth-generating machines and density drives "agglomeration economies." Put smart and entrepreneurial people in close proximity to one another, and good things happen.

Three, the only way to create an enormous, well-functioning city like Tokyo is on the backbone of transit. And the only way to make transit viable and convenient for most people is to build density all around it. Density is the unlock that makes it all possible.

Ironically, then, density is what can make cities feel less congested and more livable.

Cover photo by Agathe

So, what bold and uncomfortable 21st-century master plan should Toronto adopt? I don't know exactly, but what I was getting at in my lead-up post is that it's hard not to sometimes feel like Toronto is trying to run a 21st-century global city on a 19th-century Victorian street grid, surrounded by Houston.

In the core of the city, we have narrow, generally 20-metre rights-of-way. Many of these east-west arteries are beautiful streets to walk on with fine-grained retail patterns, but the streets themselves have slow-moving streetcars in the middle two lanes and on-street parking on both sides. The result is streets that don't move and are frustrating to navigate for all users: drivers, transit riders, and cyclists. It can take an hour to drive 10 km.

Other major streets don't have streetcars or much retail activity, but the land-use pattern reflects a bygone era. It doesn't make sense to have only single-family housing on Toronto's busiest arteries. It's time for these streets to grow up. (To be fair, the City of Toronto is trying to achieve this with its new Major Streets policies, but the development economics do not make these changes feasible at scale.)

As you move out of the core, Toronto's major streets naturally widen along with the recency in which they were built. Now we have the opposite problem where we're faced with "stroads" with little to no urbanity. Overall, it's the result of a city that grew organically over time without the same kind of defined plan seen in cities like New York, Barcelona, and Paris (after it had already been built out).

Here's the thing: Toronto's low-rise single-family era is over. Virtually the only single-family housing that gets built nowadays is when somebody demolishes an existing house and builds anew. The future is a uniformly higher-density city built on the backbone of robust transit, vehicular, and cycling networks; not a monocentric downtown that people commute to.

So what might that mean exactly?

To start, I believe it means getting our transit vehicles onto their own dedicated lanes, widening certain major streets (for the benefit of cars), shrinking and pedestrianizing others (for the benefit of human-scaled urbanism), carving through new major streets to fix connectivity gaps, and pricing congestion as a means of funding constant transit expansion. My fellow urbanists may not want to hear me advocate for the selective widening and creation of arterial roads, but we have to stop pretending that cars are going to disappear.

Once the bones are in place, it's then a matter of getting the land-use policies right and letting the private sector do what it does best — build for the future. Now, I don't profess to know the exact combination of major street widths, one-way patterns, and whatever else should be done, but I do feel strongly that it's time for a bold and uncomfortable 21st-century master plan for Toronto.

What does Toronto want to be? We should host an international design competition and find out.

Cover photo by Oles Borys

I rarely watch any TV, but when I do, I enjoy browsing YouTube. One of my favourite channels, one that I have mentioned before on this blog, is Never Too Small. It's a look at small urban spaces from around the world, with the architect or designer walking you through their intent and the various design details. Whenever I watch an episode, I usually get excited about the possibility of buying some piece-of-shit apartment in Paris and turning it into something cool. One day.

Now NTS has a new series coming out, and it's premiering this week on July 30. It's called My City, My Backyard, and it's a look at cities, specifically through the eyes of creatives. I already know that I'm going to like it, and I love the title. When you live in a city, the entire city is your backyard and amenity. The first city in this new series also happens to be one of my favourite cities: Marseille.

Marseille is having a moment right now, and that's not just my confirmation bias speaking. In 2024, the city saw 19.5 million overnight stays, which were a 20% increase compared to the year prior (they hosted 10 medal events during the Paris 2024 Olympics). But even if you strip out its Olympic boost, tourism is rising. Spring 2025 recorded a 7% year-over-year increase, which included a 19% increase in international visitors. Summer 2025 visitors were also 10% higher than in 2023.

What's driving this, beyond its vibrant culture, great restaurants, and breathtaking landscapes, is that Marseille has just the right amount of edge. It's not always a hyper-polished Instagram moment; it's an effortlessly cool place where finding an uncomfortable rock next to turquoise waters will give you everything you need.

In other words, it is a place that feels authentic. And in a world of global sameness and AI-generated simulacra, I think many of us are now seeking that authenticity — something that feels real and a little raw. Marseille has that in spades. Oh, and if any of you happen to visit la plage de Maldormé, let me know if my unauthorized sticker is still there.

Here is NTS's channel in case you want to check out Marseille this week.

Cover photo by Jeet Sandhu