In Chinese culture, certain numbers — like 4 — are generally considered unlucky because of how they sound. I don't speak Mandarin or Cantonese, but as I understand it, 4 sounds similar to "death." And this is even more the case in Cantonese.

Four sounds exactly like death, fourteen sounds like "definitely die," and forty-four is the equivalent of "die, certainly die." (Please correct me if I'm wrong.) It is for this reason that in certain real estate markets, and in particular Cantonese-speaking markets like Hong Kong, 4-related numbers are often avoided whenever possible.

This can also be the case in other markets. Before we launched sales for One Delisle, the team made the decision to be mindful of this superstition and skip floors 4, 14, and 44. The result is that the homes on floor 4 became suite 501, 502, 503, and so on, and the building itself went from having 44 floors to 47 floors.

We did this so that nobody would be buying on the "die, certainly die" floor, and so from a marketing perspective, I think these strategies can make a lot of sense.

But what I would also say is that, from a development perspective, you should avoid this whenever possible. It adds coordination complexity. What we saw happening early on was that someone would say suite 501, and then you'd have someone else question whether they were talking about the suite on architectural/construction/legal level 5 or the suite on marketing level 5.

To solve this, we had to be extremely draconian about how levels and suite numbers were allowed to be communicated. Firstly, there's no such thing as a "legal" suite number. Suite numbers are purely a marketing thing — a number that goes on a front door. The legal description of a condominium suite involves a legal level and a legal unit.

So what we did was call a meeting and tell everyone the following: Any and all communication regarding suites needs to include the legal level, legal unit, and suite number, and failure to use all three numbers means you will be liable for any mistakes. We then updated the drawings to reflect this nomenclature.

Building buildings requires some assholes.

My first boss used to tell me that development is the closest thing to being in the military. Never having been in the military, I can't say whether this is accurate or not, but it should give you an indication of what it can feel like to build. Sometimes skipping floors is just what you need to do. But if you can avoid it, it's one less thing you need to be an ass about.

Cover photo by Christian Lue on Unsplash

This is a language map of Toronto showing the most commonly spoken non-official languages at home. (It only counts individuals who reported speaking a single non-official language most commonly at home, as opposed to multiple ones.) The map you see below is based on 2016 census data, but if you’d like to check out the previous census years, as well as an interactive version, you can do that here at Social Planning Toronto.

The top languages are also listed on the right of the map, with the exception of the gray areas. These areas indicate census tracts where English > 90%. I don’t know why French shows up as #13, since this map is supposed to be non-official languages.

In any event, green represents Chinese (includes Cantonese, Mandarin, and so on). Sky blue is Tagalog. And yellow is Tamil. I’ll let you play around with the map to explore the others. There shouldn’t be many surprises if you know Toronto well, but it’s still interesting to explore the clustering and the percentages. Some of the census tracts have a single non-official language representing 90%+ of the responses.

The biggest gains over the last decade – following the same methodology as the above mapping – were Tagalog, Farsi, Bengali, Arabic, and Pashto. And the biggest declines over this same time period were Italian, Tamil, Urdu, Punjabi, and Polish. But this data is only for the City of Toronto and so I suppose that a decline could also be because of people relocating to other parts of the region.

A big part of Toronto’s strength comes from exactly what you see in this map: the world in a city.

Maria Godoy of NPR recently published an interesting piece called Lo Mein Loophole: How U.S. Immigration Law Fueled A Chinese Restaurant Boom.

The article starts by talking about how rising anti-Chinese sentiment in the late 19th and early 20th century eventually lead to the U.S. passing new immigration laws. These laws explicitly restricted Chinese laborers from moving to the U.S. and even made it difficult for legal residents to return after a visit home to China.

However, embedded in these laws was a small loophole:

But, as MIT legal historian Heather Lee tells it, there was an important exception to these laws: Some Chinese business owners in the U.S. could get special merchant visas that allowed them to travel to China, and bring back employees. Only a few types of businesses qualified for this status. In 1915, a federal court added restaurants to that list. Voila! A restaurant boom was born.

“The number of Chinese restaurants in the U.S. doubles from 1910 to 1920, and doubles again from 1920 to 1930,” says Lee, referring to research done by economist Susan Carter. In New York City alone, Lee found that the number of Chinese eateries quadrupled between 1910 and 1920.

This is fascinating on so many levels. 

For one, it’s always interesting when small loopholes have unintended consequences. It is doubtful that anyone could have predicted a Chinese restaurant boom.

Secondly, despite the U.S. being a nation of immigrants, you see here a long history of trying to keep immigrants out. In the early 20th century, the fear was Chinese laborers who worked for low wages. Today, it’s Mexican laborers who work for low wages.

Finally, it’s amazing to look back at the foundation that these early Chinese entrepreneurs no doubt created. Today, Asian Americans are often considered a “model minority.” The Pew Research Center refers to them as “the highest-income, best-educated and fastest-growing racial group in the United States.” 

When it comes to Ivy League admissions, they’ve even been called the “New Jews” – referring to the fact that many believe that top tier schools have systematically biased admissions against both Jews and Asians because of their tendency to overachieve relative to “white Americans.”

And to think that this may have all started, at least partly, with a Chinese restaurant boom.

In Chinese culture, certain numbers — like 4 — are generally considered unlucky because of how they sound. I don't speak Mandarin or Cantonese, but as I understand it, 4 sounds similar to "death." And this is even more the case in Cantonese.

Four sounds exactly like death, fourteen sounds like "definitely die," and forty-four is the equivalent of "die, certainly die." (Please correct me if I'm wrong.) It is for this reason that in certain real estate markets, and in particular Cantonese-speaking markets like Hong Kong, 4-related numbers are often avoided whenever possible.

This can also be the case in other markets. Before we launched sales for One Delisle, the team made the decision to be mindful of this superstition and skip floors 4, 14, and 44. The result is that the homes on floor 4 became suite 501, 502, 503, and so on, and the building itself went from having 44 floors to 47 floors.

We did this so that nobody would be buying on the "die, certainly die" floor, and so from a marketing perspective, I think these strategies can make a lot of sense.

But what I would also say is that, from a development perspective, you should avoid this whenever possible. It adds coordination complexity. What we saw happening early on was that someone would say suite 501, and then you'd have someone else question whether they were talking about the suite on architectural/construction/legal level 5 or the suite on marketing level 5.

To solve this, we had to be extremely draconian about how levels and suite numbers were allowed to be communicated. Firstly, there's no such thing as a "legal" suite number. Suite numbers are purely a marketing thing — a number that goes on a front door. The legal description of a condominium suite involves a legal level and a legal unit.

So what we did was call a meeting and tell everyone the following: Any and all communication regarding suites needs to include the legal level, legal unit, and suite number, and failure to use all three numbers means you will be liable for any mistakes. We then updated the drawings to reflect this nomenclature.

Building buildings requires some assholes.

My first boss used to tell me that development is the closest thing to being in the military. Never having been in the military, I can't say whether this is accurate or not, but it should give you an indication of what it can feel like to build. Sometimes skipping floors is just what you need to do. But if you can avoid it, it's one less thing you need to be an ass about.

Cover photo by Christian Lue on Unsplash

This is a language map of Toronto showing the most commonly spoken non-official languages at home. (It only counts individuals who reported speaking a single non-official language most commonly at home, as opposed to multiple ones.) The map you see below is based on 2016 census data, but if you’d like to check out the previous census years, as well as an interactive version, you can do that here at Social Planning Toronto.

The top languages are also listed on the right of the map, with the exception of the gray areas. These areas indicate census tracts where English > 90%. I don’t know why French shows up as #13, since this map is supposed to be non-official languages.

In any event, green represents Chinese (includes Cantonese, Mandarin, and so on). Sky blue is Tagalog. And yellow is Tamil. I’ll let you play around with the map to explore the others. There shouldn’t be many surprises if you know Toronto well, but it’s still interesting to explore the clustering and the percentages. Some of the census tracts have a single non-official language representing 90%+ of the responses.

The biggest gains over the last decade – following the same methodology as the above mapping – were Tagalog, Farsi, Bengali, Arabic, and Pashto. And the biggest declines over this same time period were Italian, Tamil, Urdu, Punjabi, and Polish. But this data is only for the City of Toronto and so I suppose that a decline could also be because of people relocating to other parts of the region.

A big part of Toronto’s strength comes from exactly what you see in this map: the world in a city.

Maria Godoy of NPR recently published an interesting piece called Lo Mein Loophole: How U.S. Immigration Law Fueled A Chinese Restaurant Boom.

The article starts by talking about how rising anti-Chinese sentiment in the late 19th and early 20th century eventually lead to the U.S. passing new immigration laws. These laws explicitly restricted Chinese laborers from moving to the U.S. and even made it difficult for legal residents to return after a visit home to China.

However, embedded in these laws was a small loophole:

But, as MIT legal historian Heather Lee tells it, there was an important exception to these laws: Some Chinese business owners in the U.S. could get special merchant visas that allowed them to travel to China, and bring back employees. Only a few types of businesses qualified for this status. In 1915, a federal court added restaurants to that list. Voila! A restaurant boom was born.

“The number of Chinese restaurants in the U.S. doubles from 1910 to 1920, and doubles again from 1920 to 1930,” says Lee, referring to research done by economist Susan Carter. In New York City alone, Lee found that the number of Chinese eateries quadrupled between 1910 and 1920.

This is fascinating on so many levels. 

For one, it’s always interesting when small loopholes have unintended consequences. It is doubtful that anyone could have predicted a Chinese restaurant boom.

Secondly, despite the U.S. being a nation of immigrants, you see here a long history of trying to keep immigrants out. In the early 20th century, the fear was Chinese laborers who worked for low wages. Today, it’s Mexican laborers who work for low wages.

Finally, it’s amazing to look back at the foundation that these early Chinese entrepreneurs no doubt created. Today, Asian Americans are often considered a “model minority.” The Pew Research Center refers to them as “the highest-income, best-educated and fastest-growing racial group in the United States.” 

When it comes to Ivy League admissions, they’ve even been called the “New Jews” – referring to the fact that many believe that top tier schools have systematically biased admissions against both Jews and Asians because of their tendency to overachieve relative to “white Americans.”

And to think that this may have all started, at least partly, with a Chinese restaurant boom.