I've only been to Berlin once. It was for a long weekend in 2007; one where my friend Alex Feldman and I grossly underestimated the required travel and ended up not sleeping very much. But it was awesome. I loved the city. So much in fact that the two of us ended up enrolling in a basic German class once we got back to Philadelphia. I, of course, remember almost nothing from this class, but I can say apfelstrudel with a surprising degree of convincingness, provided there are no follow-up questions.
One of the ingredients that, I think, made Berlin what it is today is that, at one point, it had a lot of empty buildings. As many of you know, these under-utilized assets ended up becoming a breeding ground for creativity and, more specifically, techno music. It's a perfect example of Jane Jacobs' mantra that new ideas required old buildings. This overall creative energy is also what gave Berlin the slogan, "poor but sexy." What the city lacked in wealth, it made up for in spades with coolness and creativity.
But that was then. Eventually the buildings filled up, the city got richer, the secret got out, and things started getting more expensive. In the span of a decade, Berlin saw its average apartment rents double. Which is why in 2020, the city approved a five-year rent freeze for the 1.5 million or so flats that were constructed before 2014. Eventually this freeze was deemed unconstitutional, but it didn't change the fact that the city was clearly becoming less poor and -- arguably -- less sexy.
Or maybe not. Guy Chazan -- who is FT's departing correspondent in Berlin, just wrote this in a recent opinion piece:
Despite everything it is still, in the words of one Irish friend of mine who has lived here for more than two decades, the world’s “largest collection of black sheep”. It is a sanctuary for renegades and misfits of all persuasions, who benignly coexist with their more bourgeois Bürger neighbours. Despite the rising cost of living here, it still seems to be full of creative people doing God knows what but always looking like they’re having the time of their lives.
And as anyone navigating its countless construction sites knows, it’s also a place of sheer, unbounded potentiality. As the art critic Karl Scheffler famously wrote in 1910: it is a city that is “damned to keep becoming, and never to be”. When I finally board the plane out of here after nearly a decade in this city, it will be that “becoming-ness” I’ll miss most.
This to me is an incredible compliment for a city that I barely know, but that he presumably knows quite well. What makes cities truly great is that they're constantly in a state of becoming. In fact, it's exactly how I would describe Toronto. To be, means you've arrived somewhere. It also implies a certain stasis. And that's not what you want when you're a city. You want a constant flow of news ideas and new energy changing things. It makes me happy to know that Berlin, seemingly, hasn't lost this.
Cover photo by Stephan Widua on Unsplash
Here is a study by three researchers out of California that asked Americans to predict the impact of a supply shock on various things, such as durable goods, commodities, labor, trade, and yes, housing.
For basically all of these items, people tended to answer correctly. Usually by a factor of at least two to one. In other words, when asked what reducing the supply of new cars would do to the prices of used cars, the majority of people responded saying that it would lead to an increase in prices.
However, when asked about the impact of a 10% increase in housing supply, about 40% said that it would cause prices and rents to rise. Only about a third believed they would fall (the correct answer). This is fascinating because it shows that housing seems to be an outlier. Most people don't have the same intuitive sense.
In 2011, Apple owned 584 acres of land.
As of this year, and according to the Financial Times, the company now owns about 7,376 acres.
Apple uses its “facilities and land for corporate functions, R&D and data centres.” The latter would include server farms for its various online services, such as iMessage, Apple Music, and the App Store.
It can be easy to think of “the cloud” and the online services we use every day as existing only in some ethereal world up in the sky or in a distant land.
But the reality is that these services have very real physical space requirements. The above chart begins to speak to that.
I've only been to Berlin once. It was for a long weekend in 2007; one where my friend Alex Feldman and I grossly underestimated the required travel and ended up not sleeping very much. But it was awesome. I loved the city. So much in fact that the two of us ended up enrolling in a basic German class once we got back to Philadelphia. I, of course, remember almost nothing from this class, but I can say apfelstrudel with a surprising degree of convincingness, provided there are no follow-up questions.
One of the ingredients that, I think, made Berlin what it is today is that, at one point, it had a lot of empty buildings. As many of you know, these under-utilized assets ended up becoming a breeding ground for creativity and, more specifically, techno music. It's a perfect example of Jane Jacobs' mantra that new ideas required old buildings. This overall creative energy is also what gave Berlin the slogan, "poor but sexy." What the city lacked in wealth, it made up for in spades with coolness and creativity.
But that was then. Eventually the buildings filled up, the city got richer, the secret got out, and things started getting more expensive. In the span of a decade, Berlin saw its average apartment rents double. Which is why in 2020, the city approved a five-year rent freeze for the 1.5 million or so flats that were constructed before 2014. Eventually this freeze was deemed unconstitutional, but it didn't change the fact that the city was clearly becoming less poor and -- arguably -- less sexy.
Or maybe not. Guy Chazan -- who is FT's departing correspondent in Berlin, just wrote this in a recent opinion piece:
Despite everything it is still, in the words of one Irish friend of mine who has lived here for more than two decades, the world’s “largest collection of black sheep”. It is a sanctuary for renegades and misfits of all persuasions, who benignly coexist with their more bourgeois Bürger neighbours. Despite the rising cost of living here, it still seems to be full of creative people doing God knows what but always looking like they’re having the time of their lives.
And as anyone navigating its countless construction sites knows, it’s also a place of sheer, unbounded potentiality. As the art critic Karl Scheffler famously wrote in 1910: it is a city that is “damned to keep becoming, and never to be”. When I finally board the plane out of here after nearly a decade in this city, it will be that “becoming-ness” I’ll miss most.
This to me is an incredible compliment for a city that I barely know, but that he presumably knows quite well. What makes cities truly great is that they're constantly in a state of becoming. In fact, it's exactly how I would describe Toronto. To be, means you've arrived somewhere. It also implies a certain stasis. And that's not what you want when you're a city. You want a constant flow of news ideas and new energy changing things. It makes me happy to know that Berlin, seemingly, hasn't lost this.
Cover photo by Stephan Widua on Unsplash
Here is a study by three researchers out of California that asked Americans to predict the impact of a supply shock on various things, such as durable goods, commodities, labor, trade, and yes, housing.
For basically all of these items, people tended to answer correctly. Usually by a factor of at least two to one. In other words, when asked what reducing the supply of new cars would do to the prices of used cars, the majority of people responded saying that it would lead to an increase in prices.
However, when asked about the impact of a 10% increase in housing supply, about 40% said that it would cause prices and rents to rise. Only about a third believed they would fall (the correct answer). This is fascinating because it shows that housing seems to be an outlier. Most people don't have the same intuitive sense.
In 2011, Apple owned 584 acres of land.
As of this year, and according to the Financial Times, the company now owns about 7,376 acres.
Apple uses its “facilities and land for corporate functions, R&D and data centres.” The latter would include server farms for its various online services, such as iMessage, Apple Music, and the App Store.
It can be easy to think of “the cloud” and the online services we use every day as existing only in some ethereal world up in the sky or in a distant land.
But the reality is that these services have very real physical space requirements. The above chart begins to speak to that.
Why is this? Well, one commonly held belief is that building market-rate housing leads to gentrification, and that this ultimately leads to the displacement of existing residents. This might have been why some people responded saying that new housing will cause an increase in prices and rents. It'll lead to all housing going up.
However, there's research to support that this isn't the case. The problem isn't outward displacement following new market-rate housing. The greatest driver of gentrification is actually "exclusionary displacement", which is the inability of people to move into areas because of a lack of housing. (This study was based on 2010-2014 housing data from the UK.)
The thing about housing supply is that it relieves pressure across the entire market. Instead of a high-income person buying an old home to renovate (and causing outward displacement), they can instead choose to buy a new home (and not cause any outward displacement).
By doing this, they also leave behind a home that can then be absorbed by lower earners. One US study found that for every 100 new market-rate homes that are built, somewhere between 45 and 70 people move out of a below-median income neighborhood.
It is for reasons like these that, time and time again, increased housing supply has been shown to moderate home prices and rents (see above regarding Minneapolis and the Midwest as a whole). So if you're worried about the cost of housing, the answer is to build more. And if you're worried about gentrification, the answer is also to build more.
Our intuitions are telling us that this is true for most things. But for whatever reason, housing feels different. It's not, though.
Source: The charts and studies in this post are from this great FT article by John Burn-Murdoch.
Why is this? Well, one commonly held belief is that building market-rate housing leads to gentrification, and that this ultimately leads to the displacement of existing residents. This might have been why some people responded saying that new housing will cause an increase in prices and rents. It'll lead to all housing going up.
However, there's research to support that this isn't the case. The problem isn't outward displacement following new market-rate housing. The greatest driver of gentrification is actually "exclusionary displacement", which is the inability of people to move into areas because of a lack of housing. (This study was based on 2010-2014 housing data from the UK.)
The thing about housing supply is that it relieves pressure across the entire market. Instead of a high-income person buying an old home to renovate (and causing outward displacement), they can instead choose to buy a new home (and not cause any outward displacement).
By doing this, they also leave behind a home that can then be absorbed by lower earners. One US study found that for every 100 new market-rate homes that are built, somewhere between 45 and 70 people move out of a below-median income neighborhood.
It is for reasons like these that, time and time again, increased housing supply has been shown to moderate home prices and rents (see above regarding Minneapolis and the Midwest as a whole). So if you're worried about the cost of housing, the answer is to build more. And if you're worried about gentrification, the answer is also to build more.
Our intuitions are telling us that this is true for most things. But for whatever reason, housing feels different. It's not, though.
Source: The charts and studies in this post are from this great FT article by John Burn-Murdoch.
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