I'm a big fan of walking. I like it for the health benefits, the freedom to explore, and the simple luxury of being able to walk to things. In fact, it's an important housing prerequisite for me: can I walk to stuff?
But as we often talk about on this blog, the ability to do this depends largely on the prevailing land use patterns, the overall built environment, and, to a great extent, when a neighborhood was built.
It is commonly argued that the "best" neighborhoods were all built before the widespread use of the car, and there's a lot of truth to this. (This makes me wonder if self-driving cars will eventually create a similar "pre and post" divide in our built environment.)
However, not everyone sees it this way. I just read an article about how residents in the suburbs of Minneapolis-St. Paul are vehemently opposed to the construction of sidewalks in areas where there are currently none.
Perhaps I haven't been paying enough attention to the suburban sidewalk wars, but this is the first time I've seen this level of opposition. Some people view sidewalks as a feature, and some people view them as a bug. Clearly, there are residents in the Twin Cities who view them as the latter.
Why? Because they interrupt large front lawns:
“I chose my home with the nice big lawn out front,” Edina resident Melissa Cohen told the mayor and City Council at a Dec. 8 hearing about proposed sidewalks for streets in Prospect Knolls. “We are in a quiet neighborhood. This does not require a sidewalk.”
And for some people, they're unsightly:
In 2007, a Golden Valley resident named Charles Upham told the Star Tribune “sidewalk is a four-letter word. U-G-L-Y.”
You could call it a kind of rural ideology, where sidewalks symbolize the opposite: the city. I suppose there are also practical considerations, like the fact that snow removal on sidewalks often becomes the homeowner's responsibility.
But it appears to me that a large part of this opposition stems from wanting to maintain some semblance of pastoral exclusivity, even if we're talking about higher-density suburbs and the opposition is masquerading as an environmental preservationist movement.
On the flip side, there are practical benefits to sidewalks. They give you a safe place to walk. So, what I wonder is to what extent are the people opposing these sidewalks also anti-walkers? Or is it that the traffic flows in these neighborhoods are so low that people simply feel comfortable walking on the street, like here?
Not surprisingly, there's lots of data to support that people who live in neighborhoods with sidewalks are significantly more likely to walk and be active. If you want people to walk more, build sidewalks. If you want people to ride bikes more, build bicycle lanes. And if you want people to drive more, build roads and highways.
This is how this behavioral stuff works. We're not completely independent actors; we're products of our environment.
Cover photo from The Minnesota Star Tribune
In Ontario, couples with children overwhelmingly live in ground-oriented ownership housing. This form of housing is still the majority for all other households (at least according to 2021 Census data), but apartment rentals make up a much larger share.
Given these figures, it is not surprising that the Missing Middle Initiative has found that family migration patterns within southern Ontario tend to correlate strongly (r = 0.71) with where ground-oriented ownership housing is being built, which largely means outside of the Greater Toronto Area.
This is an important finding if you're worried about Canadians not having enough babies. But this correlation doesn't tell us exactly what's going on. The data suggests that families with children have a clear preference for ground-oriented ownership — even if it means moving farther out — but what other options do they really have?
Three-bedroom apartments remain a relatively elusive housing type because demand is low. But as we have talked about, demand is a function of price, and multi-family buildings are more expensive to construct than low-rise housing. So how much of this perceived consumer preference for ground-oriented housing is actually just people driving until they qualify?
In other words, how many people are simply solving for X amount of space/bedrooms at Y price? And what would happen if we made large three-bedroom apartments in walkable transit-oriented communities the most affordable option? It still wouldn't be for everyone, but I bet that we would see demand adjust.
More importantly, it would give people options.
Charts from the Missing Middle Initiative; cover photo by Jason Ng on Unsplash
Over the years, we've spoken a lot about the benefits of cities permitting small-scale commercial uses in residential neighborhoods.
They increase overall urban vibrancy. They promote local consumption (reducing the need for people to do things like drive). And they can help reduce the barriers to entry for small businesses. These spaces tend to be more cost-effective and, in some cases, like here and here, they are spaces that the homeowner already owns.
But there are some important objections to consider. Perhaps the most common one is this: What happens if my neighbor opens a 24-hour taco stand next door? I'm fairly confident that I could single-handedly keep a taco stand in business if it opened up next to me — what an amenity — but I get the concern. It's a legitimate one.
In this part of the world, we have typically responded to this concern by restricting uses. We have thrown the baby out with the bathwater by saying, "Nope, restaurants aren't allowed, because there's a chance it could be a 24-hour taco stand and that might annoy people."
But there are alternatives.
Japan's land-use approach, for example, is (1) generally focused on what you can do (versus what you can't do) and (2) organized around intensity and nuisance. I've never developed in Japan and I don't know the exact nuances of their policy framework, but directionally I think it's an interesting way to moderate this land-use consideration.
An accountant who wants to hang a shingle is different from a coffee shop that's only open from 8am to 3pm (and doesn't have a commercial kitchen), and a coffee shop is different from Peggy Gou DJ'ing next door at an all-night taco bar. But they are all non-residential uses, and that makes them illegal in many/most residential neighborhoods.
Thinking in terms of an intensity gradient is one way to create more mixed-use communities, while at the same time respecting the local context.