And in it he made the argument that instead of buying a car and an expensive downtown Toronto parking spot (average price: $40,000 - 60,000), most of us urbanites would be better of just taking a taxi or Uber.
This got me thinking: At what point does it really make sense to completely forgo owning a car? (Full disclosure: I own both a car and a downtown parking spot.) So I decided to dig into the numbers a bit more and compare 4 mobility options:
Owning a car ($25,000 upfront) + downtown parking spot ($40,000 upfront) and driving yourself everywhere
Taking a regular taxi exclusively ($3.25 base + $1.75 per km)
Taking an UberX exclusively ($2.50 base + $1 per km)
Or, taking a futuristic driverless car everywhere (here I assumed $1.50 base + $0.25 per km)
With the above numbers, I then assumed 15,000 km traveled per year and an average trip length of 15 km (so 1,000 trips per year). The trip length and number of trips per year matter because of the “base fare” that is charged when you take a taxi or Uber.
I also assumed that the cost of owning a car is $0.60 per km (estimated from this Globe and Mail article) and that there is an opportunity cost to NOT renting out your downtown parking spot ($200/month). That is, every month that you spend driving yourself around and parking your car, you are forfeiting parking revenue.
Finally, I looked at a 10 year time horizon and then “discounted” all the costs back to today’s dollars so that I could compare each mobility option.
So what did I find?

What this says is that if you’re driving 15,000 km per year (average trip length 15km), then you’re better off taking UberX everywhere, as opposed to going out, buying a car and parking spot, and driving yourself around.
But does this hold true at different travel distances?
Based on my model, once you hit around 18,000 km per year, then you’re better of with option 1 (owning a car). That’s because the per km savings associated with driving yourself around are enough to offset the upfront costs of the car and parking spot.
On the flip side, when you drop below 7,500 km traveled per year, even a regular taxi starts to make sense. That’s because you’re simply not traveling enough to reap the benefits of owning a car/parking spot. Again, high upfront costs; lower per km operating costs.
Of course, there are a number of things I didn’t consider in my model. For one, most people finance their car and parking spot (it is bundled into their home mortgage). So I’m sure there are ways that you could change the above outcomes using leverage.
At the same time, I didn’t account for the fact that when you’re being driven around (as opposed to driving around) you have the flexibility of doing work, responding to emails, and so on. If you want to attach a value to your time, then the scale would tip back in favor of taxis and Uber.
But all of this was really just to make one point: look how cheap it could be to ride around in a driverless car. When that becomes the reality in our cities, which it will, it’s going to completely transform our current beliefs around cars, parking, and many other things.
I guess that’s why General Motors just invested $500 million in the peer-to-peer ridesharing company, Lyft. They know the shit is coming.
If you’re a regular reader of Architect This City, there are many things that you might know about me.
You might know that I was initially trained as an architect, but that I immediately transitioned into real estate development after grad school (where I studied both architecture and real estate).
After becoming a real estate developer, you might know that I completed an MBA with a focus on innovation and entrepreneurship (which happened by default as a result of the electives I ended up being interested in).
And finally, you might know, given the content of this blog and my startup history, that I have a significant interest in technology. More specifically though, you might know that my interest is in figuring out how technology will continue to infiltrate and impact “non-tech” industries such as real estate.
But what you might not know is how I even ended up in architecture and real estate in the first place. Unlike a lot of people who seem to have grown up wanting to be an architect – perhaps because they had a relative who was one – I didn’t decide to study architecture until a bit later on.
Growing up my primary interests were: art and computers.
During high school, my art teachers used to tell my parents that I was going to be an artist. And my computer teachers used to tell my parents that I was going to be a computer geek – or maybe they said computer scientist.
Maybe it had to do with timing and the emergence of the commercial internet in the 1990s, but computers sort of won out during that point in my life. I spent a lot of time building them from scratch, playing with software, and asking my mom not to pick up the phone because I was literally dialed-in to the internet.
So when it came time to enrol in university, I fairly effortlessly decided on computer science. It just seemed to make sense. But after about a year I realized that it wasn’t for me. I didn’t love programming like my classmates did and the thought of doing it for a living scared me.
At the same time, I felt like I needed to feed the artist in me. I wanted something both artistic and technical. So I decided to drop out of computer science and give architecture a try. It just seemed like the perfect marriage of my interests.
I immediately fell in love with architecture. And I spent the next 7 years studying it across 2 degrees.
But during that time, two things hit me. First, I came to the realization that real estate developers are the ones who really have the most say in terms of how our cities are built. And second, that technology was having a massive impact on business and life.
This told me that design alone wasn’t going to be enough. I also needed to engross myself in real estate, finance, business, and technology. So that’s what I set out to do. And I really enjoyed it. On the technology side, it felt like I was coming full circle in a way.
But today, I feel a bit like a 3 legged stool. There’s the design leg. The real estate/business leg. And the technology leg. And oftentimes I feel like life would be a lot simpler if I could just balance on one of those legs – instead of trying to stand on all three. But that’s simply not me.
These are my passions and I need all of them to stand-up.
Earlier this week a good friend of mine from Rotman, Frank Luengo, launched his own blog called Frank’s Vault.
Given that he has used the same theme as I have here, I like to think it was inspired by ATC :) But whatever the case may be, his mission is: “…to simplify the complicated, and to bring Bay Street and Main Street a little closer together.” In other words, it’s a finance blog. And I’m really enjoying it so far.
Last summer Frank told me that he was thinking about starting this and so I’m thrilled that he finally decided to do it. I’ve talked many times before about the benefits of personal blogging, and so I won’t repeat them here. But I did want to mention one other thing. When Frank told me he launched, one of the first things I did was congratulate him on claiming frankluengo.com.
And I did that because I’m a big proponent of owning your firstnamelastname.com. I look at internet domains as virtual real estate and I, therefore, look at firstnamelastname.com as your own piece of branded real estate on the internet. If you don’t buy it up, somebody else will. That’s obviously why I own brandondonnelly.com and why I host ATC on it.
But since I’m such a believer in real estate – both the offline and online varietals – I actually own many others. I also own brandondonnelly.co, brandondonnelly.ca, and brandondonnelly.me. The latter one links to my tumblog, and the first 2 just redirect to this site. I don’t derive much utility from having all these URLs, but I just want them so that nobody else can get them.
So if you haven’t yet thought about it, I would encourage you to think about claiming your own piece of real estate on the internet. I use Namecheap.com to buy my domains, but there are many others out there.
And in it he made the argument that instead of buying a car and an expensive downtown Toronto parking spot (average price: $40,000 - 60,000), most of us urbanites would be better of just taking a taxi or Uber.
This got me thinking: At what point does it really make sense to completely forgo owning a car? (Full disclosure: I own both a car and a downtown parking spot.) So I decided to dig into the numbers a bit more and compare 4 mobility options:
Owning a car ($25,000 upfront) + downtown parking spot ($40,000 upfront) and driving yourself everywhere
Taking a regular taxi exclusively ($3.25 base + $1.75 per km)
Taking an UberX exclusively ($2.50 base + $1 per km)
Or, taking a futuristic driverless car everywhere (here I assumed $1.50 base + $0.25 per km)
With the above numbers, I then assumed 15,000 km traveled per year and an average trip length of 15 km (so 1,000 trips per year). The trip length and number of trips per year matter because of the “base fare” that is charged when you take a taxi or Uber.
I also assumed that the cost of owning a car is $0.60 per km (estimated from this Globe and Mail article) and that there is an opportunity cost to NOT renting out your downtown parking spot ($200/month). That is, every month that you spend driving yourself around and parking your car, you are forfeiting parking revenue.
Finally, I looked at a 10 year time horizon and then “discounted” all the costs back to today’s dollars so that I could compare each mobility option.
So what did I find?

What this says is that if you’re driving 15,000 km per year (average trip length 15km), then you’re better off taking UberX everywhere, as opposed to going out, buying a car and parking spot, and driving yourself around.
But does this hold true at different travel distances?
Based on my model, once you hit around 18,000 km per year, then you’re better of with option 1 (owning a car). That’s because the per km savings associated with driving yourself around are enough to offset the upfront costs of the car and parking spot.
On the flip side, when you drop below 7,500 km traveled per year, even a regular taxi starts to make sense. That’s because you’re simply not traveling enough to reap the benefits of owning a car/parking spot. Again, high upfront costs; lower per km operating costs.
Of course, there are a number of things I didn’t consider in my model. For one, most people finance their car and parking spot (it is bundled into their home mortgage). So I’m sure there are ways that you could change the above outcomes using leverage.
At the same time, I didn’t account for the fact that when you’re being driven around (as opposed to driving around) you have the flexibility of doing work, responding to emails, and so on. If you want to attach a value to your time, then the scale would tip back in favor of taxis and Uber.
But all of this was really just to make one point: look how cheap it could be to ride around in a driverless car. When that becomes the reality in our cities, which it will, it’s going to completely transform our current beliefs around cars, parking, and many other things.
I guess that’s why General Motors just invested $500 million in the peer-to-peer ridesharing company, Lyft. They know the shit is coming.
If you’re a regular reader of Architect This City, there are many things that you might know about me.
You might know that I was initially trained as an architect, but that I immediately transitioned into real estate development after grad school (where I studied both architecture and real estate).
After becoming a real estate developer, you might know that I completed an MBA with a focus on innovation and entrepreneurship (which happened by default as a result of the electives I ended up being interested in).
And finally, you might know, given the content of this blog and my startup history, that I have a significant interest in technology. More specifically though, you might know that my interest is in figuring out how technology will continue to infiltrate and impact “non-tech” industries such as real estate.
But what you might not know is how I even ended up in architecture and real estate in the first place. Unlike a lot of people who seem to have grown up wanting to be an architect – perhaps because they had a relative who was one – I didn’t decide to study architecture until a bit later on.
Growing up my primary interests were: art and computers.
During high school, my art teachers used to tell my parents that I was going to be an artist. And my computer teachers used to tell my parents that I was going to be a computer geek – or maybe they said computer scientist.
Maybe it had to do with timing and the emergence of the commercial internet in the 1990s, but computers sort of won out during that point in my life. I spent a lot of time building them from scratch, playing with software, and asking my mom not to pick up the phone because I was literally dialed-in to the internet.
So when it came time to enrol in university, I fairly effortlessly decided on computer science. It just seemed to make sense. But after about a year I realized that it wasn’t for me. I didn’t love programming like my classmates did and the thought of doing it for a living scared me.
At the same time, I felt like I needed to feed the artist in me. I wanted something both artistic and technical. So I decided to drop out of computer science and give architecture a try. It just seemed like the perfect marriage of my interests.
I immediately fell in love with architecture. And I spent the next 7 years studying it across 2 degrees.
But during that time, two things hit me. First, I came to the realization that real estate developers are the ones who really have the most say in terms of how our cities are built. And second, that technology was having a massive impact on business and life.
This told me that design alone wasn’t going to be enough. I also needed to engross myself in real estate, finance, business, and technology. So that’s what I set out to do. And I really enjoyed it. On the technology side, it felt like I was coming full circle in a way.
But today, I feel a bit like a 3 legged stool. There’s the design leg. The real estate/business leg. And the technology leg. And oftentimes I feel like life would be a lot simpler if I could just balance on one of those legs – instead of trying to stand on all three. But that’s simply not me.
These are my passions and I need all of them to stand-up.
Earlier this week a good friend of mine from Rotman, Frank Luengo, launched his own blog called Frank’s Vault.
Given that he has used the same theme as I have here, I like to think it was inspired by ATC :) But whatever the case may be, his mission is: “…to simplify the complicated, and to bring Bay Street and Main Street a little closer together.” In other words, it’s a finance blog. And I’m really enjoying it so far.
Last summer Frank told me that he was thinking about starting this and so I’m thrilled that he finally decided to do it. I’ve talked many times before about the benefits of personal blogging, and so I won’t repeat them here. But I did want to mention one other thing. When Frank told me he launched, one of the first things I did was congratulate him on claiming frankluengo.com.
And I did that because I’m a big proponent of owning your firstnamelastname.com. I look at internet domains as virtual real estate and I, therefore, look at firstnamelastname.com as your own piece of branded real estate on the internet. If you don’t buy it up, somebody else will. That’s obviously why I own brandondonnelly.com and why I host ATC on it.
But since I’m such a believer in real estate – both the offline and online varietals – I actually own many others. I also own brandondonnelly.co, brandondonnelly.ca, and brandondonnelly.me. The latter one links to my tumblog, and the first 2 just redirect to this site. I don’t derive much utility from having all these URLs, but I just want them so that nobody else can get them.
So if you haven’t yet thought about it, I would encourage you to think about claiming your own piece of real estate on the internet. I use Namecheap.com to buy my domains, but there are many others out there.
Share Dialog
Share Dialog
Share Dialog
Share Dialog
Share Dialog
Share Dialog