Brandon Donnelly
Daily insights for city builders. Published since 2013 by Toronto-based real estate developer Brandon Donnelly.
Brandon Donnelly
Daily insights for city builders. Published since 2013 by Toronto-based real estate developer Brandon Donnelly.
It is worth reiterating that one of the main reasons the majority of people live in cities is because they would like to make money and improve their economic status. There are, of course, other reasons too, but making money is an enduring attractor. In Alain Bertaud's book, Order Without Design: How Markets Shape Cities, he famously argued that cities are, first and foremost, labour markets.
Because of this, the success of cities depends on their ability to harness talent and turn it into economic progress. New York City, for example, is the city it is today because it was the largest port of entry for immigrants. And because transportation costs were high at the time, people arrived in New York and stayed in New York to work and create businesses.
The same thing is generally true today in the San Francisco Bay Area. It is estimated that roughly 50% of all tech startups and 59 of the top 100 highest-valued unicorns have a foreign-born founder. (I'd love to know what percentage are Canadian graduates of the University of Waterloo.) These are immigrants looking for money and economic opportunity, and the local ecosystem is providing the right preconditions.
But if the preconditions for success disappear, people will start to both leave and not come in the first place. So, it's also worth reiterating that the fortunes of cities have always risen and fallen over a long enough time horizon. Here's a great excerpt from a recent Bloomberg article by Richard Frost and Mary Hui, talking about what "war-rattled Dubai can learn from Hong Kong's expat exodus."
Financial centers rise and fall with the tides of geopolitics. From the mid-1500s, the tiny Portuguese enclave of Macau served as the primary intermediary for trade between Europe, Japan and China. In the mid-1800s, it was displaced by Hong Kong, which Britain secured by defeating the Qing dynasty. Hong Kong, in turn, was overtaken by Shanghai in the 1920s, when its more glamorous though still Western-run rival became the wealthiest city in East Asia. Both were occupied by Japanese forces during World War II, and their expatriate elite were interned in camps.
Shanghai never regained its prewar status. After their 1949 victory in China’s civil war, the Communists seized foreign-owned assets, bringing an end to the dominance of one of Asia’s most prominent business dynasties — the Baghdadi-Jewish Sassoon family, known as the “Rothschilds of the East.” The exodus of wealthy Shanghainese to Hong Kong helped lay the foundations for the city’s modern-day revival as Asia’s leading financial hub.
But between the protests of the 2010s, the 2020 national security law, and the draconian pandemic lockdowns, in recent years, it did feel like Hong Kong might be at risk of losing at least some of its status as a global financial hub. According to the latest Global Financial Centres Index, Hong Kong is still ranked third, behind New York and London, respectively. But Singapore is nipping at its heels in fourth position.
Today, some are arguing that the current turmoil in the Middle East has broken the promise of Dubai as a stable, global financial capital where influencers roam freely on the beach. People are, not surprisingly, leaving in the immediate term, but will it be lasting? I think it's too early to be calling the fall of Dubai, but there's no question that this is a meaningful exogenous shock. Its real estate index fell 30% in two weeks.
History shows us that there are no guarantees. Preeminence exists until something happens, and then it doesn't. If this war becomes protracted, it will be a major problem for Dubai. Capital and talent want openness, stability, opportunity, and a favourable business environment (keep taxes reasonable and get out of the way). After all, it's arguably the main reason why people come to cities in the first place.
Cover photo by Sepehr Moradian on Unsplash
Chart via the Global Financial Centres Index
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.
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.
It is worth reiterating that one of the main reasons the majority of people live in cities is because they would like to make money and improve their economic status. There are, of course, other reasons too, but making money is an enduring attractor. In Alain Bertaud's book, Order Without Design: How Markets Shape Cities, he famously argued that cities are, first and foremost, labour markets.
Because of this, the success of cities depends on their ability to harness talent and turn it into economic progress. New York City, for example, is the city it is today because it was the largest port of entry for immigrants. And because transportation costs were high at the time, people arrived in New York and stayed in New York to work and create businesses.
The same thing is generally true today in the San Francisco Bay Area. It is estimated that roughly 50% of all tech startups and 59 of the top 100 highest-valued unicorns have a foreign-born founder. (I'd love to know what percentage are Canadian graduates of the University of Waterloo.) These are immigrants looking for money and economic opportunity, and the local ecosystem is providing the right preconditions.
But if the preconditions for success disappear, people will start to both leave and not come in the first place. So, it's also worth reiterating that the fortunes of cities have always risen and fallen over a long enough time horizon. Here's a great excerpt from a recent Bloomberg article by Richard Frost and Mary Hui, talking about what "war-rattled Dubai can learn from Hong Kong's expat exodus."
Financial centers rise and fall with the tides of geopolitics. From the mid-1500s, the tiny Portuguese enclave of Macau served as the primary intermediary for trade between Europe, Japan and China. In the mid-1800s, it was displaced by Hong Kong, which Britain secured by defeating the Qing dynasty. Hong Kong, in turn, was overtaken by Shanghai in the 1920s, when its more glamorous though still Western-run rival became the wealthiest city in East Asia. Both were occupied by Japanese forces during World War II, and their expatriate elite were interned in camps.
Shanghai never regained its prewar status. After their 1949 victory in China’s civil war, the Communists seized foreign-owned assets, bringing an end to the dominance of one of Asia’s most prominent business dynasties — the Baghdadi-Jewish Sassoon family, known as the “Rothschilds of the East.” The exodus of wealthy Shanghainese to Hong Kong helped lay the foundations for the city’s modern-day revival as Asia’s leading financial hub.
But between the protests of the 2010s, the 2020 national security law, and the draconian pandemic lockdowns, in recent years, it did feel like Hong Kong might be at risk of losing at least some of its status as a global financial hub. According to the latest Global Financial Centres Index, Hong Kong is still ranked third, behind New York and London, respectively. But Singapore is nipping at its heels in fourth position.
Today, some are arguing that the current turmoil in the Middle East has broken the promise of Dubai as a stable, global financial capital where influencers roam freely on the beach. People are, not surprisingly, leaving in the immediate term, but will it be lasting? I think it's too early to be calling the fall of Dubai, but there's no question that this is a meaningful exogenous shock. Its real estate index fell 30% in two weeks.
History shows us that there are no guarantees. Preeminence exists until something happens, and then it doesn't. If this war becomes protracted, it will be a major problem for Dubai. Capital and talent want openness, stability, opportunity, and a favourable business environment (keep taxes reasonable and get out of the way). After all, it's arguably the main reason why people come to cities in the first place.
Cover photo by Sepehr Moradian on Unsplash
Chart via the Global Financial Centres Index
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.
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.
Cover photo by Christian Lue on Unsplash
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
Cover photo by Christian Lue on Unsplash
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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