This recent Spacing article by Geoff Turnbull and Laurence Holland makes a compelling case for "missing middle" type development along Toronto's collector roads. The idea being that we are already focusing on (and have policies for) infill along our Avenues and within our single family neighborhoods, but we have yet to pay attention to the scale of street that sits somewhere in between the two. Streets such as Hallam that were once commercial spines, but lost their economic purpose for a variety of reasons.
Here's a map, from the article, of Toronto's collector roads:
There are almost 800 kilometers of collector roads in the city. As the name starts to imply, these streets are designed to collect vehicles and funnel them toward arterial roads and "Avenues." But this scale difference changes things and creates a kind of in-between condition. They're less desirable from a residential standpoint (because they're not as quiet and secluded), but they're also not designed to become strong retail/commercial streets (despite the odd retail remnant). In fact, retail is probably prohibited on most. Which is why I like the idea of thinking of these streets differently.
Of course, we have work to do in order to make this scale of development economically feasible, and the authors do acknowledge that. But the more we continue to talk about the future of our low-rise neighborhoods, the more that intensification starts to feel inevitable.
The Wall Street Journal estimates that, from now until about 2037, roughly 21 million homes in the United States will be vacated by seniors. To put this number into perspective, it's about 25% of the US for-sale housing stock and more than double the amount of new homes that were sold during the 1998 to 2008 housing boom. That number was about 10 million (see below).
For all of us who are involved in the building of cities, it is important to remember that cities emerge and thrive as a result of economic purpose. Take, for example, Sao Paulo. Once one of the poorest of Portuguese colonies, it is today the largest city in the southern hemisphere and one of the largest and most diverse urban agglomerations in the world.
How did all of this happen? It was probably because of coffee.
Brazil is the largest producer of coffee in the world. And it has owned this title for some 150 years. The best areas to grow coffee (as a result of climate, I'm told) are in the southeast part of the country, in and around Sao Paulo and Rio de Janeiro. The inland state of Minas Gerais is the biggest producer.
But here's the thing. Rio de Janeiro is along the coast and Sao Paulo is not, though as of 1869 it had been connected to the port of Santos by rail. This geographical feature made Sao Paulo a logical place for rail to converge as it made its way from the coffee plantations in the interior of the country to the coast, and then out to the rest of the world.
Coffee was the economic purpose. And it was facilitated by Brazil's longstanding use of slave labor.
In 1888 that changed. Slavery was abolished, giving Brazil the dubious distinction of being the last country in the Western world to do so. The problem is that the coffee industry relied heavily on this labor. So to fill this void and keep the coffee industry happy, a deliberate effort was made to increase immigration.
From 1870 to 2010, about 2.3 million immigrants settled in the state of Sao Paulo, many from Italy and Japan. Today, about half of the city is thought to have at least some Italian ancestry. And it is generally believed that it was this significant influx of immigrants that helped the city to industrialize in the way that it did.
Big and diverse. And coffee probably had a lot to do with it.
Photo by ViniLowRaw on Unsplash
This is part of the normal cycle of housing, but in this particular instance, there's concern that the new generation won't be there to backfill these homes, or least not in the same way. For one, there are more boomers than there are Gen Xers. So right away there's a potential gap. But on top of this, the next in line don't appear to necessarily have the same preferences in housing type and location.
As someone who would fall into the 65.9 million birth bucket highlighted in deep mustard (had I been born in the US), I can tell you that I am far less interested in many of the housing products (real estate speak) / typologies (architect speak) popularized by the generation ahead of me. Whether my opinion is representative is, of course, debatable.
Anecdotally, I can also say that I know many boomers who have started making real estate decisions based on the assumption that demand for certain types of housing will be tepid going forward. This is not to say that some of these communities won't be able to reposition themselves if it comes to that. But there is uncertainty.
Images: WSJ
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