
I like and agree with this tweet: "You can have bad urbanism with good architecture, and good urbanism with bad architecture." The two provided examples of this are (1) Brasilia and (2) what appears to be some random little street in Japan.
Brasilia is the capital of Brazil. It's a masterplanned city designed by Lúcio Costa, Oscar Niemeyer and Joaquim Cardozo in the 1950s. And it was all part of a plan to move the capital from Rio de Janeiro to a more central location in the middle of the country.
The result is some incredible architecture by Oscar Niemeyer that, for me, is emblematic of the country. Brazil was one of the first countries outside of Europe to adopt modern architecture and it's precisely for this reason that Brasilia is high on my list of places to visit. (Rio is also one of my favorite cities.)
But whenever I tell a Brazilian that I want to visit the city, the usual response is, “Why?” I then have to explain that it’s because of Niemeyer and the architecture, and then they say, “Oh, okay, that makes sense. But besides the architecture, there isn’t much else to see or do there.”
Part of the reason for this could be because the city has objectively bad urbanism. When you look at it in plan view, the layout of the city resembles a plane or bird in flight, and that is, I guess, symbolically cool when you view it on Google Maps. But on the ground, cities are not at their best when they're designed around abstract symbols.
They're at their best when they're designed around people. And this is what example number two does well. The architecture is ugly and nondescript, but the street is narrow, the road is shared, and the buildings contain a mix of fine-grained uses.
It's a dead simple approach, but it works — really well. It's good urbanism.
Cover photo by Thandy Yung on Unsplash

I got a notice in the mail this week for a public meeting related to Toronto's multiplex zoning by-law. Multiplexes are house-like buildings with two, three or four dwelling units. This housing type became newly permissible across the city in May 2023, but as part of the approval, the city was asked to keep an eye on things and report back on anything that might need to be changed. What is now being proposed are amendments to this original by-law.
One change is the introduction of the term "houseplex." This is meant to get away from unit-specific terms like duplex, triplex, and fourplex; but it also sounds like it was designed to placate single-family house owners. Another proposed change is a limit on the number of bedrooms in a building. For houseplexes with three or more units, the maximum number of bedrooms is proposed to be 3 x the number of dwelling units. This is designed to block rooming houses.
It's a reminder that zoning is, at least in this part of the world, about fine-grained control. It's typically about narrowing the universe of options down to a minimum so that it's clear what we can expect. This is why zoning by-laws have things called "permitted uses." It's a strict list of things you can do. And if it's not on the list, it's off limits. A different and more flexible approach would be to do the opposite: list only what you can't do. This broadens the universe of possibilities, but gives up some control.
Roughly speaking, this is how zoning works in Japan. Land use planning starts at the national level, as opposed to being strictly delegated to local governments. And from my understanding, there are 12 main zones, ranging from exclusively low-rise residential to exclusively industrial. (Here's an interesting undergraduate paper I found on the topic.) What's fascinating about this system is that it's organized by nuisance or intensity level, and it works cumulatively.
Meaning, as you move up in allowable nuisance, things of lesser intensity still tend to be allowed. For example, just because you might have a commercial zone with restaurants and department stores, it doesn't mean you still can't build residential. It's a less intense use. At the same time, the starting point is also more permissive, because even the exclusively low-rise residential zone allows "small shops or offices." What all of this creates is a planning framework where most zones are by default mixed-use.
This is a fundamentally different approach. It relinquishes some degree of control, embraces more flexibility, and accepts that cities are chaotic living organisms. It's impossible to draw lines on a map and figure out exactly where each permitted use should go. We'll never get it right and/or keep up. What this means is that we're artificially stifling our cities by not just focusing on the obviously bad stuff (like heavy industry next to a daycare), and letting the market decide where a ramen stand should go.
Cover photo by Susann Schuster on Unsplash
Things have been pretty serious around here lately. We've been talking a lot about isolationist tariffs that make zero economic sense and that have been blatantly miscalculated, and so let's switch gears and talk about something a little more fun: toilets.
If any of you remember my post from earlier this year called "Takeaways from Japan," you might remember this:
Our toilets are in the stone ages. You’re not going to get yourself clean with just paper. You need a comfortable warm seat and highly adjustable jets of water. I never fully appreciated this need before the trip, but now I’m a true believer. It’s time for a new toilet.
Well, I meant it when I said it:

This week, I finally got around to installing a new TOTO WASHLET seat on my existing toilet. My bathroom may now look a little more geriatric, but it's a fantastic quality of life upgrade that more people, outside of Japan, should adopt. So why don't they?
The TOTO WASHLET seat was first created in 1980. And since then (and up until 2022), the company has reported selling more than 60 million units, with the majority of them being sold in Japan. As of 2021, it was believed that over 80% of Japanese households were equipped with some sort of heated bidet toilet.

Market penetration is much lower in the West. In the US, ChatGPT think it's less than 5%. And based on anecdotal evidence, this does not seem far off. I almost never see them in public places (though The Butcher Chef here in Toronto has one) and I rarely see them in people's homes.
My gut is that it's a combination of a lack of awareness and people thinking it's weird and/or unhygienic. I mean, is that wand clean? But if you travel to Japan, you will have an aha moment. So maybe TOTO needs to figure out a way to export this moment to the rest of the world through, oh I don't know, some sort of public toilet program.
Note: This post is not sponsored by TOTO. But I really wish it were, because then maybe I would have gotten my seat for free.