A recent market report from Zillow has found that urban and suburban housing markets in the US haven't actually diverged all that much as a result of this pandemic. Despite what you might be reading in the news, Zillow's national listing data does not seem to suggest that an urban exodus might be underway. Suburban and rural home listings are seeing about the same attention (views) as they were last year. And the rates of appreciation seem to be holding. As of June, annual home value growth was 4.3% for urban areas and 4.1% for suburban areas.
There are, however, some exceptions and local nuances. Rents in urban zip codes have fallen more compared to their suburban counterparts. This seems to make intuitive sense given that I would have expected demand to be less from young professionals, students, and immigrants. Many cities probably also saw a bunch of their short-term rental inventory flip over to the long-term rental market (how much, I don't know). But my view is that this will prove to be a short-term phenomenon.
There are also some markets that have performed quite differently. San Francisco is one of those cases. The city proper has seen home prices fall 4.9% and inventory (listings) increase by 96% year-over-year. This is a massive outlier. If I were to speculate as to why this is the case, it would be that (1) this was brewing even before COVID-19 and (2) the tech community is perhaps more convinced of this whole working from home thing. Why remain in expensive San Francisco? It'll be interesting to see how this plays out. For a full copy of Zillow's urban-suburban market report, click here.
Image: Zillow
The venture capital industry likes to talk about the importance of investing in ideas that are and turn out to be both non-consensus and successful. The idea here is that if an idea or opportunity is already consensus, then there's too much money flooding into that space and it becomes too difficult to make money. This is particularly true in venture capital where a select few companies usually end up generating most of the returns. This is a high risk business. Supposedly, even the best VCs end up having to write off a big portion of their deals.
But I don't think that this logic need only apply to venture capital. In real estate development, you are often faced with similar situations. For example, if an area is already consensus -- that is, it is already considered to be highly desirable -- then capital is going to naturally flow into it and land prices will be relatively high. These high land prices might be justified by the revenue side of your pro forma, or they might not be. I know many developers who avoid "core" locations simply because the land is too much and the margins are too little.
On the other hand, if an area is non-consensus -- that is, you're not sure people will want to rent or buy new space in the area -- then the land prices should reflect this. But here's the thing. What you're doing is trading, among other things, a lower land price for greater market risk. Because the non-consensus bet could turn out to be either successful or unsuccessful. People will either want to occupy space here or they won't. And remember, by definition, it being non-consensus means that most people believe they won't -- or at least not at the prices you might need in order to make the math work.
What all of this means is that if you're right about something that most people think is wrong, then you have the opportunity to do quite well. (Though I am not suggesting that you need to follow this framework in all situations.) This is on my mind right now because it feels to me that there are certain consensus opinions emerging as a result of this pandemic. For example, opinions around the demise of office space and the demise of downtown living. If you're a regular reader of this blog, you'll know that I think these death-of-the-city predictions are largely bullshit.
I could be wrong. Or I could be right.
I installed and setup Health Canada's COVID Alert app this morning.
It's really simple to do that. You don't enter any personal information. You just select which province you're in, agree to let it use your Bluetooth, and give it permission to share the random codes that you collect with its servers (more on this below). The app is then active and working. But to be clear, it doesn't collect your location (it doesn't use GPS or location services). It doesn't collect the places or times that you are next to someone who also has the COVID Alert app. And it doesn't know if you're with someone who was previously diagnosed with COVID-19.
Built on top of the private exposure framework that was collectively developed by Apple and Google, the app works by using Bluetooth to exchange "random codes" between nearby phones that have the app. These are anonymous and random codes that are used to track which phones have been next to which phones for any meaningful period of time. The app also uses Bluetooth signal strength to estimate proximity. So it knows how long your phone has been proximate to someone else's (with the app) and how close they got to each other.
That's pretty much all that happens with the app unless you test positive for COVID-19. At that point, you will be given a one-time key along with your diagnosis. The onus is then on you to anonymously self-report on the app. Once you do that, anyone who was exposed -- i.e. next to your phone in the last 14 days -- will receive an alert on their phone via the app. And since the app doesn't know any names or who anybody is, it's of course all completely anonymous.
It's great to see all of this coming together. The private sector worked to build the underlying framework and now you have government building on top of it to deliver public health tools. I know that some or many of you will be concerned about privacy, but that appears to have been very well thought out. If you haven't already downloaded the app, I would encourage you to check it out. It's available for iOS and Android and can be downloaded over here.