A few weeks ago, we spoke about the dramatic change that Toronto's East Bayfront has undergone over the last two decades. It's now a place. I also shared a time-lapse video from Waterfront Toronto showing how the Parliament Slip was landfilled in order to improve the street network in this area. If you missed it (and you like to nerd out on construction), it's worth watching.

In addition to this, Waterfront Toronto has (just?) released this interactive website showing in more detail what's planned for the Quayside area. And if you make it all the way to the end of the experience, you'll land on the below image, which shows some towers and the site earmarked for a school and potential cultural destination.

Clicking on the site leads to this pop-up:

Schools are obviously critical. Education is the number one predictor of household wealth. Build it. But I also think it's important that we take advantage of this opportunity to build a truly remarkable cultural destination on Toronto's doorstep. This is an opportunity for a globally recognized symbol that elevates the city's brand, drives tourism, and serves as an economic development catalyst.

So I would like to encourage those in charge to take this seriously. (If Globizen can help in any way, give us a call.) The right way to do it would be to host an international design competition and put the challenge to the world's best architects. This is not the time or place to be timid. Rather, it's the time and place to beat our chests. This could be a Sydney Opera House or Bilbao moment.

Actually, it could be something even greater: The Toronto Effect.

Cover photo by Antonio Gabola on Unsplash

“Every unemployed American is a failure of entrepreneurial imagination.” -Edward Glaeser

At the end of September, economist Edward Glaeser returned to the Manhattan Institute to deliver the 2017 James Q. Wilson Lecture. If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you may remember that he was there in 2016 and delivered a presentation called “The End of Work.” 

This year’s talk continues that theme, but focuses on joblessness and economic stagnation in the US Heartland. 

The solutions he puts forward are based on a very simple economic model for growth that he refers to as “rules and schools.” Simply put: The rules of a place need to support business and entrepreneurship and the people need to be educated.

One example he gives is of a woman in Detroit who was trying to start a food truck business but had to wait 18 months for a permit. There’s no reason that should happen. He blames the insider restaurant lobby for working to keep competition at bay. The rules are bad. We have similar problems here in Toronto with our food trucks. I think it’s wrong.

He also pokes fun at the Bilbao effect. Yes, Frank Gehry created a beautiful piece of architecture. But did it lower the unemployment rate?

The last thing I’ll mention are his comments regarding Amazon HQ2 because I like how he frames it. 

Firstly, Amazon is going select a city that doesn’t need Amazon. It’s going to go where there’s already abundant human capital. 

Secondly, “smokestack chasing” is not the right economic development strategy. The key questions should be: How will this benefit our human capital and how many new firms could it create?

If you have an hour, check out Ed Glaeser’s talk. If you can’t see it below, click here.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e8LvHpRCUYk?rel=0&w=560&h=315]

In 1980, the last train ran on an elevated corridor on the west side of Manhattan known as the High Line. Originally built in the 1930s, the trucking industry had made these trains obsolete and service was halted.

At this point, neighboring property owners began to lobby for the demolition of the High Line, as they no doubt saw it as an opportunity to increase the value of their land holdings. But thanks to local residents – most notably a man by the name of Peter Obletz – the 1.45 mile-long elevated rail corridor was saved from demolition.

In 1999, Joshua David and Robert Hammond then decided to form a non-profit with the goal of both preserving and reusing this unused rail corridor. The group was called Friends of the High Line.

By the early 2000s, Friends of the High Line had successfully made an economic case for transforming the rail line into a public open space and things started moving forward. Initially, it was thought that a public park of this sorts would attract about 400,000 people annually and generate upwards of $286 million in new tax revenues over the following 2 decades (Globe and Mail).

With these expectations in mind, construction on the new High Line Park began in 2006. The first section opened in 2009 – a decade after Friends of the High Line was formed. And the third, and last section, opened just two weekends ago at the end of September.

Today the High Line Park attracts 5 million visitors a year and is believed to be directly responsible for about $2.2 billion in new economic activity. The increased tax revenues over the next 2 decades are expected to reach about $980 million. Without a doubt, the High Line has been a huge success. It has become the 2nd most visited cultural attraction in New York (Globe and Mail).

Which is why every city now wants their own High Line. Philadelphia wants one. Chicago wants one. Mexico City wants one. Seoul wants one. And the list goes on. Here in Toronto, we’ve recently proposed one called the King High Line, which will connect the Liberty Village and West Queen West neighborhoods across a rail corridor.

While I do believe that this is an important connectivity problem to be solved, I worry about how explicit the references are to the actual High Line. Even the street furniture is the same in their promotional video.

I worry not only because it means we’re clearly taking on the role of follower, as opposed to leader, but because an elevated park isn’t going to work in all urban contexts the same way that the High Line worked in Chelsea. This is similar to how Frank Gehry can’t magically turn your city into the next Bilbao. 

So while I have shown my support by becoming a “Friend of the King High Line” (and I would encourage you to do so as well), it’s important to keep in mind that the problems we’re trying to solve here aren’t necessarily the same ones that New York had to deal with.

The High Line – from the start – was designed to have an intimate relationship with its surrounding buildings. The tracks rain directly through them so that the trains could easily load and unload their cargo – that was the whole point. So when the High Line was redone, all of a sudden these buildings were able to reconnect themselves to the park in a way that they were already accustomed to doing.

But in Toronto’s situation, and perhaps in your city, that’s not the case. We’re talking about stitching together two completely disconnected neighborhoods. It’s a noble goal and certainly one that I wholeheartedly believe we should pursue. But I don’t think we should assume that it’s a problem that has already been completely solved for us.

Image: Flickr

A few weeks ago, we spoke about the dramatic change that Toronto's East Bayfront has undergone over the last two decades. It's now a place. I also shared a time-lapse video from Waterfront Toronto showing how the Parliament Slip was landfilled in order to improve the street network in this area. If you missed it (and you like to nerd out on construction), it's worth watching.

In addition to this, Waterfront Toronto has (just?) released this interactive website showing in more detail what's planned for the Quayside area. And if you make it all the way to the end of the experience, you'll land on the below image, which shows some towers and the site earmarked for a school and potential cultural destination.

Clicking on the site leads to this pop-up:

Schools are obviously critical. Education is the number one predictor of household wealth. Build it. But I also think it's important that we take advantage of this opportunity to build a truly remarkable cultural destination on Toronto's doorstep. This is an opportunity for a globally recognized symbol that elevates the city's brand, drives tourism, and serves as an economic development catalyst.

So I would like to encourage those in charge to take this seriously. (If Globizen can help in any way, give us a call.) The right way to do it would be to host an international design competition and put the challenge to the world's best architects. This is not the time or place to be timid. Rather, it's the time and place to beat our chests. This could be a Sydney Opera House or Bilbao moment.

Actually, it could be something even greater: The Toronto Effect.

Cover photo by Antonio Gabola on Unsplash

“Every unemployed American is a failure of entrepreneurial imagination.” -Edward Glaeser

At the end of September, economist Edward Glaeser returned to the Manhattan Institute to deliver the 2017 James Q. Wilson Lecture. If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you may remember that he was there in 2016 and delivered a presentation called “The End of Work.” 

This year’s talk continues that theme, but focuses on joblessness and economic stagnation in the US Heartland. 

The solutions he puts forward are based on a very simple economic model for growth that he refers to as “rules and schools.” Simply put: The rules of a place need to support business and entrepreneurship and the people need to be educated.

One example he gives is of a woman in Detroit who was trying to start a food truck business but had to wait 18 months for a permit. There’s no reason that should happen. He blames the insider restaurant lobby for working to keep competition at bay. The rules are bad. We have similar problems here in Toronto with our food trucks. I think it’s wrong.

He also pokes fun at the Bilbao effect. Yes, Frank Gehry created a beautiful piece of architecture. But did it lower the unemployment rate?

The last thing I’ll mention are his comments regarding Amazon HQ2 because I like how he frames it. 

Firstly, Amazon is going select a city that doesn’t need Amazon. It’s going to go where there’s already abundant human capital. 

Secondly, “smokestack chasing” is not the right economic development strategy. The key questions should be: How will this benefit our human capital and how many new firms could it create?

If you have an hour, check out Ed Glaeser’s talk. If you can’t see it below, click here.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e8LvHpRCUYk?rel=0&w=560&h=315]

In 1980, the last train ran on an elevated corridor on the west side of Manhattan known as the High Line. Originally built in the 1930s, the trucking industry had made these trains obsolete and service was halted.

At this point, neighboring property owners began to lobby for the demolition of the High Line, as they no doubt saw it as an opportunity to increase the value of their land holdings. But thanks to local residents – most notably a man by the name of Peter Obletz – the 1.45 mile-long elevated rail corridor was saved from demolition.

In 1999, Joshua David and Robert Hammond then decided to form a non-profit with the goal of both preserving and reusing this unused rail corridor. The group was called Friends of the High Line.

By the early 2000s, Friends of the High Line had successfully made an economic case for transforming the rail line into a public open space and things started moving forward. Initially, it was thought that a public park of this sorts would attract about 400,000 people annually and generate upwards of $286 million in new tax revenues over the following 2 decades (Globe and Mail).

With these expectations in mind, construction on the new High Line Park began in 2006. The first section opened in 2009 – a decade after Friends of the High Line was formed. And the third, and last section, opened just two weekends ago at the end of September.

Today the High Line Park attracts 5 million visitors a year and is believed to be directly responsible for about $2.2 billion in new economic activity. The increased tax revenues over the next 2 decades are expected to reach about $980 million. Without a doubt, the High Line has been a huge success. It has become the 2nd most visited cultural attraction in New York (Globe and Mail).

Which is why every city now wants their own High Line. Philadelphia wants one. Chicago wants one. Mexico City wants one. Seoul wants one. And the list goes on. Here in Toronto, we’ve recently proposed one called the King High Line, which will connect the Liberty Village and West Queen West neighborhoods across a rail corridor.

While I do believe that this is an important connectivity problem to be solved, I worry about how explicit the references are to the actual High Line. Even the street furniture is the same in their promotional video.

I worry not only because it means we’re clearly taking on the role of follower, as opposed to leader, but because an elevated park isn’t going to work in all urban contexts the same way that the High Line worked in Chelsea. This is similar to how Frank Gehry can’t magically turn your city into the next Bilbao. 

So while I have shown my support by becoming a “Friend of the King High Line” (and I would encourage you to do so as well), it’s important to keep in mind that the problems we’re trying to solve here aren’t necessarily the same ones that New York had to deal with.

The High Line – from the start – was designed to have an intimate relationship with its surrounding buildings. The tracks rain directly through them so that the trains could easily load and unload their cargo – that was the whole point. So when the High Line was redone, all of a sudden these buildings were able to reconnect themselves to the park in a way that they were already accustomed to doing.

But in Toronto’s situation, and perhaps in your city, that’s not the case. We’re talking about stitching together two completely disconnected neighborhoods. It’s a noble goal and certainly one that I wholeheartedly believe we should pursue. But I don’t think we should assume that it’s a problem that has already been completely solved for us.

Image: Flickr