In Chinese culture, certain numbers — like 4 — are generally considered unlucky because of how they sound. I don't speak Mandarin or Cantonese, but as I understand it, 4 sounds similar to "death." And this is even more the case in Cantonese.
Four sounds exactly like death, fourteen sounds like "definitely die," and forty-four is the equivalent of "die, certainly die." (Please correct me if I'm wrong.) It is for this reason that in certain real estate markets, and in particular Cantonese-speaking markets like Hong Kong, 4-related numbers are often avoided whenever possible.
This can also be the case in other markets. Before we launched sales for One Delisle, the team made the decision to be mindful of this superstition and skip floors 4, 14, and 44. The result is that the homes on floor 4 became suite 501, 502, 503, and so on, and the building itself went from having 44 floors to 47 floors.
We did this so that nobody would be buying on the "die, certainly die" floor, and so from a marketing perspective, I think these strategies can make a lot of sense.
But what I would also say is that, from a development perspective, you should avoid this whenever possible. It adds coordination complexity. What we saw happening early on was that someone would say suite 501, and then you'd have someone else question whether they were talking about the suite on architectural/construction/legal level 5 or the suite on marketing level 5.
To solve this, we had to be extremely draconian about how levels and suite numbers were allowed to be communicated. Firstly, there's no such thing as a "legal" suite number. Suite numbers are purely a marketing thing — a number that goes on a front door. The legal description of a condominium suite involves a legal level and a legal unit.
So what we did was call a meeting and tell everyone the following: Any and all communication regarding suites needs to include the legal level, legal unit, and suite number, and failure to use all three numbers means you will be liable for any mistakes. We then updated the drawings to reflect this nomenclature.
Building buildings requires some assholes.
My first boss used to tell me that development is the closest thing to being in the military. Never having been in the military, I can't say whether this is accurate or not, but it should give you an indication of what it can feel like to build. Sometimes skipping floors is just what you need to do. But if you can avoid it, it's one less thing you need to be an ass about.
Cover photo by Christian Lue on Unsplash

Hong Kong is one of the last cities in the world that still uses bamboo scaffolding for construction. Why? Well, for one thing, it grows very tall, and quickly (source):
Bamboo is one of the fastest-growing plants in the world, and in some cases can grow 60cm a day, and eventually 40 metres tall. Bamboo has thick underground roots called rhizomes, which can grow quickly, creating new shoots metres away.

And it's cell-like structure performs very well under compression:
Compared to steel, bamboo is much lighter, six times faster to erect and 12 times faster to dismantle. It’s also a fraction of the cost. Bamboo scaffolding doesn’t require sophisticated machinery or complex tools to erect, just skilled workers with nylon ties. If properly erected, bamboo scaffolding can be stronger than steel and far more flexible. The resulting structure is also easy to modify, if necessary. Bamboo scaffolding can be used for entire structures, or part of them. In Hong Kong it is common to see “bamboo balconies” jutting from the sides of buildings where renovations are being carried out on individual units, many floors up. A bamboo pole can also be cut to fit an awkward space, which is ideal for Hong Kong, where construction spaces can be tight amid the densely packed maze of buildings.
The key to making transit useful for people is not very complicated. It is highly dependent on population densities. In other words, it works best when it's proximate to as many people as possible. And so the more low density a city is, the harder it is for this to be true. It just isn't feasible to run that many lines. To that end, here's an interesting study by the School of Cities at the University of Toronto that compares rail transit and population density for 250 cities around the world.
This is what Toronto vs. Hong Kong looks like:

I chose Hong Kong because, according to this dataset, it has the highest percentage of people living within 1 km of a major rail transit station at 75.8%. Toronto, on the other hand, sits at 20%, which is frankly not very good (though I don't see our slow-moving streetcars on the above map). It's also why our bus network has to do so much heavy lifting to get people to rail. This places us 8th in the US and Canada (see below). Once again, when it comes to transit in this part of the world, there's New York, and then everyone else:

But add in the rest of the world -- most notably Europe and East Asia -- and New York drops down to 17th position:

This, to me, is a critically important metric. For what share of residents is rail transit close and convenient? In cities like Hong Kong, Paris, and Stockholm, it is the majority of the urban population. But for the majority of cities in Canada and the US, the answer is a very small percentage. To improve this, you can obviously build more lines. And that's certainly part of it. But to really maximize the value of these investments, you also need density. I hope our city leaders are paying attention to this metric.

But it's unclear how long this will remain true. Young people aren't learning the trade at the same rate as previous generations. And today, there are only 2,479 registered bamboo scaffolders left in Hong Kong. Assuming you have the nerves, the hardest part of the job is apparently the knot. It can take years to master.
If you're interested in this topic, I recommend you read this article. I found it fascinating.
Images: South China Morning Post
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