
There is data to suggest that on-demand (OD) mobility services -- such as Uber -- are increasing vehicle kilometers traveled (i.e. causing greater traffic congestion) by inducing people away from public transit and other forms of urban mobility. This is potentially even more of an issue right now with most urban transit agencies looking at massive budget shortfalls.
But there's potentially another way to look at this problem. A recent study led by Dániel Kondor of the MIT Senseable City Lab has looked at not only vehicle kilometers traveled but also something that the team calls the "minimum parking problem." What is the minimum amount of parking that you need assuming a world with more on-demand mobility, and eventually autonomous vehicles?
To try and answer this problem the researchers looked at the small city-state of Singapore. With a population of about 5.6 million people and somewhere around 1 million vehicles, Singapore actually has one of the lowest number of private vehicles per capita in the developed world. Even still, it has some 1.37 million parking spaces taking up valuable room.
What the team found was that on-demand mobility could reduce parking infrastructure needs in Singapore by as much as 86%. This is the absolute minimum number, which would take the current estimate of 1.37 million spots down to about 189,000 -- a significant reduction.
However, the tradeoff is that it could increase vehicle kilometers traveled by about 24%. Without ample parking, their model assumes that these on-demand vehicles would need to "deadhead" between trips. That is, drive around aimlessly while they wait for their next passenger. Demand isn't usually neat and tidy.
However, it's worth noting that the above percentage increase assumes that if people were instead driving themselves around that they always found a parking spot as soon as they arrived at their destination. This, as we all know, is not often the case, and so this increase is probably a worst case scenario.
Nevertheless, the team did also find that a 57% reduction in parking could be achieved with only a modest 1.3% increase in vehicle kilometers traveled. This, to me, is meaningful because it says that you could, in theory, cut parking supply in at least half and not much would happen in the way of traffic congestion.
It would, however, free up a bunch of space for things like bicycle lanes, green space, and other valuable urban amenities. Now, if on-demand vehicles are pulling people away from transit, then maybe we're no better off. But if the alternative is people driving and parking everywhere they go, then it would seem that there are much better uses for that space.
Photo by Jordi Moncasi on Unsplash
Real estate, as they say, is a local business. Every market has its local nuances. For example, once of the first things that Studio Gang asked us when we started working together was, "does Toronto do PT?" What they were referring to was post-tensioned concrete and our answer was, "not really." There are certainly examples of localized applications within buildings (such as for a specific transfer slab) and there are examples of buildings that have used it throughout (see Pier 27 Tower below -- it's how they managed to get such deep balconies). But for the most part, it's not widely used and it's certainly not as common as it is in markets such as New York. This subtle difference has an impact on how you design, which is why Studio Gang asked it from the outset.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CBHXTd4AQeJ/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
Despite some of these local differences, there is a criticism out there that we have descended upon a kind of bland global design sensibility. No matter where you're building, every building now looks the same, which, at the end of the day, was kind of the point of the International Style of architecture. One design approach applied universally. This recent article by Edwin Heathcote takes things even further by saying that our interiors have also been sterilized to look more or less the same as a result of "digital aesthetic seepage." The article is called, "The curse of the Airbnb aesthetic."
https://www.instagram.com/p/CEHmhKZgh3b/
One the one hand, there is something inevitable about this outcome. We -- including our supply chains -- have become more interconnected than ever. And because of the high cost of labor, the way we build today is centered around as much factory automation as possible. Minimize what needs to be done on site. And given that I would expect more, rather than less, automation going forward, one has to assume that this trend is destined to continue. At the same time, local places matter and one of the reasons why so many of us love to travel is that we want to see places that are different than our own. I for one don't want that to change.

There is data to suggest that on-demand (OD) mobility services -- such as Uber -- are increasing vehicle kilometers traveled (i.e. causing greater traffic congestion) by inducing people away from public transit and other forms of urban mobility. This is potentially even more of an issue right now with most urban transit agencies looking at massive budget shortfalls.
But there's potentially another way to look at this problem. A recent study led by Dániel Kondor of the MIT Senseable City Lab has looked at not only vehicle kilometers traveled but also something that the team calls the "minimum parking problem." What is the minimum amount of parking that you need assuming a world with more on-demand mobility, and eventually autonomous vehicles?
To try and answer this problem the researchers looked at the small city-state of Singapore. With a population of about 5.6 million people and somewhere around 1 million vehicles, Singapore actually has one of the lowest number of private vehicles per capita in the developed world. Even still, it has some 1.37 million parking spaces taking up valuable room.
What the team found was that on-demand mobility could reduce parking infrastructure needs in Singapore by as much as 86%. This is the absolute minimum number, which would take the current estimate of 1.37 million spots down to about 189,000 -- a significant reduction.
However, the tradeoff is that it could increase vehicle kilometers traveled by about 24%. Without ample parking, their model assumes that these on-demand vehicles would need to "deadhead" between trips. That is, drive around aimlessly while they wait for their next passenger. Demand isn't usually neat and tidy.
However, it's worth noting that the above percentage increase assumes that if people were instead driving themselves around that they always found a parking spot as soon as they arrived at their destination. This, as we all know, is not often the case, and so this increase is probably a worst case scenario.
Nevertheless, the team did also find that a 57% reduction in parking could be achieved with only a modest 1.3% increase in vehicle kilometers traveled. This, to me, is meaningful because it says that you could, in theory, cut parking supply in at least half and not much would happen in the way of traffic congestion.
It would, however, free up a bunch of space for things like bicycle lanes, green space, and other valuable urban amenities. Now, if on-demand vehicles are pulling people away from transit, then maybe we're no better off. But if the alternative is people driving and parking everywhere they go, then it would seem that there are much better uses for that space.
Photo by Jordi Moncasi on Unsplash
Real estate, as they say, is a local business. Every market has its local nuances. For example, once of the first things that Studio Gang asked us when we started working together was, "does Toronto do PT?" What they were referring to was post-tensioned concrete and our answer was, "not really." There are certainly examples of localized applications within buildings (such as for a specific transfer slab) and there are examples of buildings that have used it throughout (see Pier 27 Tower below -- it's how they managed to get such deep balconies). But for the most part, it's not widely used and it's certainly not as common as it is in markets such as New York. This subtle difference has an impact on how you design, which is why Studio Gang asked it from the outset.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CBHXTd4AQeJ/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
Despite some of these local differences, there is a criticism out there that we have descended upon a kind of bland global design sensibility. No matter where you're building, every building now looks the same, which, at the end of the day, was kind of the point of the International Style of architecture. One design approach applied universally. This recent article by Edwin Heathcote takes things even further by saying that our interiors have also been sterilized to look more or less the same as a result of "digital aesthetic seepage." The article is called, "The curse of the Airbnb aesthetic."
https://www.instagram.com/p/CEHmhKZgh3b/
One the one hand, there is something inevitable about this outcome. We -- including our supply chains -- have become more interconnected than ever. And because of the high cost of labor, the way we build today is centered around as much factory automation as possible. Minimize what needs to be done on site. And given that I would expect more, rather than less, automation going forward, one has to assume that this trend is destined to continue. At the same time, local places matter and one of the reasons why so many of us love to travel is that we want to see places that are different than our own. I for one don't want that to change.
These days, everybody seems to be talking about the 15-minute city -- Bloomberg, Treehugger, the Financial Times, as well as countless others. While not a new concept, it is a moniker that is easier for most people to digest. COVID-19 has also created the right backdrop for the moment that it is currently enjoying.
The 15-minute city is a polycentric and somewhat decentralized approach to urbanism. It is about encouraging and creating multiple centers of urban activity near where people live. The idea being that everybody should have most of their essential services within a 15-minute walk of their home. Put even more simply, it's about creating an urban environment where people can live locally.
The benefits to this are numerous. It encourages more compact forms of development, which in turn encourages people to rely more heavily on active modes of transportation such as walking and cycling. The result is less commuting, less carbon emissions, more time, and likely better health outcomes given the reliance on active mobility.
Indeed, living in a walkable urban community is something that I personally put a huge value on. If I can't walk out of my home to go grab a coffee and something to eat, it's probably not the neighborhood for me. But at the same time, I don't think we can ignore the fact that there are powerful centralizing forces present within our cities.
As Natalie Whittle points out in this FT article from the summer, new technologies -- from the telegraph to the internet -- have always elicited predictions that humans would now flee cities and move to the countryside. While it is true that there are other technologies -- everything from the streetcar to the automobile -- that have allowed us to decentralize to a greater extent, most of us are all still bound to cities.
In fact, you could argue that the opposite of decentralization has played out. As we have transitioned to a knowledge and information economy, the returns to being embedded within cities and within a particular place have only become greater.
Take for example the phenomenon of "collab houses" that has been playing out in Los Angeles for some time now, including during this pandemic. Collab houses are typically LA mansions where clusters of young people come and live together in order to create content for platforms like YouTube and TikTok. It's like a big dorm for creators. And supposedly the biggest one is Hype House.
What's fascinating to me about this phenomenon is that it reinforces two things. One, if you want to be rich and famous (emphasis on famous), Los Angeles is seemingly still an important place to be. And two, if you really want to be at the top of your game, it's apparently not enough to be in the same city as other likeminded individuals; you also need to be under the same roof, bouncing ideas around and pushing one another.
So what does this all mean? Well, maybe this time is different and we are all currently living through a reorganization of how we will live, work and play. Or, maybe this time isn't all that different. And the 15-minute city, while an important goal, won't be the be-all and end-all of modern city building.
Photo by Lukas Geck on Unsplash
These days, everybody seems to be talking about the 15-minute city -- Bloomberg, Treehugger, the Financial Times, as well as countless others. While not a new concept, it is a moniker that is easier for most people to digest. COVID-19 has also created the right backdrop for the moment that it is currently enjoying.
The 15-minute city is a polycentric and somewhat decentralized approach to urbanism. It is about encouraging and creating multiple centers of urban activity near where people live. The idea being that everybody should have most of their essential services within a 15-minute walk of their home. Put even more simply, it's about creating an urban environment where people can live locally.
The benefits to this are numerous. It encourages more compact forms of development, which in turn encourages people to rely more heavily on active modes of transportation such as walking and cycling. The result is less commuting, less carbon emissions, more time, and likely better health outcomes given the reliance on active mobility.
Indeed, living in a walkable urban community is something that I personally put a huge value on. If I can't walk out of my home to go grab a coffee and something to eat, it's probably not the neighborhood for me. But at the same time, I don't think we can ignore the fact that there are powerful centralizing forces present within our cities.
As Natalie Whittle points out in this FT article from the summer, new technologies -- from the telegraph to the internet -- have always elicited predictions that humans would now flee cities and move to the countryside. While it is true that there are other technologies -- everything from the streetcar to the automobile -- that have allowed us to decentralize to a greater extent, most of us are all still bound to cities.
In fact, you could argue that the opposite of decentralization has played out. As we have transitioned to a knowledge and information economy, the returns to being embedded within cities and within a particular place have only become greater.
Take for example the phenomenon of "collab houses" that has been playing out in Los Angeles for some time now, including during this pandemic. Collab houses are typically LA mansions where clusters of young people come and live together in order to create content for platforms like YouTube and TikTok. It's like a big dorm for creators. And supposedly the biggest one is Hype House.
What's fascinating to me about this phenomenon is that it reinforces two things. One, if you want to be rich and famous (emphasis on famous), Los Angeles is seemingly still an important place to be. And two, if you really want to be at the top of your game, it's apparently not enough to be in the same city as other likeminded individuals; you also need to be under the same roof, bouncing ideas around and pushing one another.
So what does this all mean? Well, maybe this time is different and we are all currently living through a reorganization of how we will live, work and play. Or, maybe this time isn't all that different. And the 15-minute city, while an important goal, won't be the be-all and end-all of modern city building.
Photo by Lukas Geck on Unsplash
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