The Harvard Graduate School of Design (GSD) just announced a new 12-month degree called the Master in Real Estate (MRE). Here's a short excerpt about the program:

The MRE program is designed to train future practitioners to address new and urgent realities facing the built environment and cities today. Whether undertaken by for-profit businesses, not-for-profit organizations, or public entities, real estate occupies a pivotal role in determining how the places where we live, work, and play are equitable, environmentally sustainable, and appealing, in addition to being productive for the economy.

The key takeaways are that this is a graduate program being designed for aspiring real estate entrepreneurs and that it will live within Harvard's Graduate School of Design. So there is an implicit recognition that the world of real estate doesn't need to run counter to the pedagogical goals of a design school.

Anyone who went to architecture school will tell you that real estate is often viewed as the "dark side." Either you commit yourself to the pure world of architecture and design, or you sell out and seek profits in the world of real estate. But I have always considered this to be a false dichotomy.

Real estate is a fundamental component of how we shape our built environment. And so if one's ambitions are to improve the built environment -- which is something that architecture schools do teach you -- why should the delivery vehicle matter? Shouldn't we be encouraging people to optimize for maximum benefit?

I completed my undergraduate degree in architecture. But very early on I had the feeling that I was only getting one piece of a larger picture. And so I went to the University of Pennsylvania for graduate school and completed a degree that combined both architecture and real estate. My goal was to figure out a way to combine both passions. Maybe I'd become the next Jonathan Segal.

Penn was very open to cross-disciplinary studies at the time (this was the mid-2000s), but there was still a gaping divide between the school of design and the business school. Walking across campus meant taking off one hat and putting on another. There wasn't a lot of overlap.

After school, I returned to Toronto and started working in development. I then decided to pursue my MBA part-time, which really wasn't necessary for my career, but was probably driven by some sort of insecurity I felt at Penn. I was the outsider design student (with funny glasses I might add) trying to keep up with Wharton MBAs.

I went back to the University of Toronto for my MBA and thoroughly enjoyed it. But I still couldn't understand why there was such little overlap between the design school and the business school when it came to matters of the built environment. The real estate courses at Rotman were also extremely limited at the time.

So I started talking to faculty members: What would it took to create a joint real estate program that lived somewhere between the design school and the business school? I offered to help and I tried to press upon everyone that this was a gaping void and a huge opportunity. Canada was falling behind in terms of real estate education. It was time to step up.

The answer I got was generally always twofold: (1) Rotman's real estate courses were already good enough and (2) it's pretty hard to start a new program at the University. You have to do a bunch of things, one of which includes finding money. So, sorry.

Harvard's new Master in Real Estate degree is the kind of program I had in mind. So I'm happy to see others taking action. And I ultimately think it will be a good thing for our cities.

If you'd like to apply, you can do that starting this fall.

Here is a short video by Dave Amos (of the YouTube channel City Beautiful) about the splitting of Berlin into two. What a fascinating urban case study. I just recently discovered his channel, but he seems to cover some interesting topics, all of which are related to cities and city planning. When Dave is not making YouTube videos, he is a professor of city and regional planning at Cal Poly. He also graduated with a Master of Architecture at some point before getting his Ph.D., so presumably he knows a few things about buildings and cities. I guess that also makes him an imposter architect, like me.

When I was in grad school studying architecture and real estate, the Zell/Lurie Real Estate Center used to run a regular lunch series with real estate executives. The way it worked is that executives would come in to the school and 15 or so students -- all of whom were studying real estate -- could sign up to have lunch with them in a boardroom. I can't remember if the school provided us lunch or we had to bring our own, but either way, you had an hour to hear them talk about the industry and ask them whatever you wanted to know.

One time somebody asked a question about what courses they should take outside of their business and real estate classes. And I'll never forget what the executive said. His recommendation was to take courses that were as far away from business, finance, and real estate as possible. He said take fine art history classes, learn about ancient civilizations, or whatever. Just take classes that force you to think a little differently than everybody else.

The reason, I think, this resonated with me so much was because I had a certain amount of academic insecurity at that moment in time. I was coming from an architecture and design background and my classmates were former investment bankers and management consultants, all of whom had a far better grasp of "the numbers" than I did. It meant that real estate recruiters didn't want to talk to me because I was the square peg for their round hole.

But being a square peg really motivated me.

I remember walking into the program director's office at that time and requesting that I be put into what was considered to be the more difficult real estate finance class offered at Wharton. He said that he didn't recommend it. Non-MBAs (which I was at the time) can't typically handle it. And if he put me into it, I would likely come back to him crying about how hard it was. I asked him to put me in it and said that I would come back to show him my "A." He put me in it and, yes, I got an "A."

But at the end of the day, the point that this executive was making at the lunch was that the math and mechanics behind things like cap rates, IRRs, and DCFs is not rocket science. Real estate is not rocket science. You of course need to know how this stuff all works, but it is not the be-all and end-all. The other critical parts of this are more art than science. What are the assumptions that I am making as part of my analysis? What do I believe about the future of the world? To answer these questions, you need think critically and laterally. And having a different perspective can help you do exactly that.

This was true back in 2008 and it's still true today.

The Harvard Graduate School of Design (GSD) just announced a new 12-month degree called the Master in Real Estate (MRE). Here's a short excerpt about the program:

The MRE program is designed to train future practitioners to address new and urgent realities facing the built environment and cities today. Whether undertaken by for-profit businesses, not-for-profit organizations, or public entities, real estate occupies a pivotal role in determining how the places where we live, work, and play are equitable, environmentally sustainable, and appealing, in addition to being productive for the economy.

The key takeaways are that this is a graduate program being designed for aspiring real estate entrepreneurs and that it will live within Harvard's Graduate School of Design. So there is an implicit recognition that the world of real estate doesn't need to run counter to the pedagogical goals of a design school.

Anyone who went to architecture school will tell you that real estate is often viewed as the "dark side." Either you commit yourself to the pure world of architecture and design, or you sell out and seek profits in the world of real estate. But I have always considered this to be a false dichotomy.

Real estate is a fundamental component of how we shape our built environment. And so if one's ambitions are to improve the built environment -- which is something that architecture schools do teach you -- why should the delivery vehicle matter? Shouldn't we be encouraging people to optimize for maximum benefit?

I completed my undergraduate degree in architecture. But very early on I had the feeling that I was only getting one piece of a larger picture. And so I went to the University of Pennsylvania for graduate school and completed a degree that combined both architecture and real estate. My goal was to figure out a way to combine both passions. Maybe I'd become the next Jonathan Segal.

Penn was very open to cross-disciplinary studies at the time (this was the mid-2000s), but there was still a gaping divide between the school of design and the business school. Walking across campus meant taking off one hat and putting on another. There wasn't a lot of overlap.

After school, I returned to Toronto and started working in development. I then decided to pursue my MBA part-time, which really wasn't necessary for my career, but was probably driven by some sort of insecurity I felt at Penn. I was the outsider design student (with funny glasses I might add) trying to keep up with Wharton MBAs.

I went back to the University of Toronto for my MBA and thoroughly enjoyed it. But I still couldn't understand why there was such little overlap between the design school and the business school when it came to matters of the built environment. The real estate courses at Rotman were also extremely limited at the time.

So I started talking to faculty members: What would it took to create a joint real estate program that lived somewhere between the design school and the business school? I offered to help and I tried to press upon everyone that this was a gaping void and a huge opportunity. Canada was falling behind in terms of real estate education. It was time to step up.

The answer I got was generally always twofold: (1) Rotman's real estate courses were already good enough and (2) it's pretty hard to start a new program at the University. You have to do a bunch of things, one of which includes finding money. So, sorry.

Harvard's new Master in Real Estate degree is the kind of program I had in mind. So I'm happy to see others taking action. And I ultimately think it will be a good thing for our cities.

If you'd like to apply, you can do that starting this fall.

Here is a short video by Dave Amos (of the YouTube channel City Beautiful) about the splitting of Berlin into two. What a fascinating urban case study. I just recently discovered his channel, but he seems to cover some interesting topics, all of which are related to cities and city planning. When Dave is not making YouTube videos, he is a professor of city and regional planning at Cal Poly. He also graduated with a Master of Architecture at some point before getting his Ph.D., so presumably he knows a few things about buildings and cities. I guess that also makes him an imposter architect, like me.

When I was in grad school studying architecture and real estate, the Zell/Lurie Real Estate Center used to run a regular lunch series with real estate executives. The way it worked is that executives would come in to the school and 15 or so students -- all of whom were studying real estate -- could sign up to have lunch with them in a boardroom. I can't remember if the school provided us lunch or we had to bring our own, but either way, you had an hour to hear them talk about the industry and ask them whatever you wanted to know.

One time somebody asked a question about what courses they should take outside of their business and real estate classes. And I'll never forget what the executive said. His recommendation was to take courses that were as far away from business, finance, and real estate as possible. He said take fine art history classes, learn about ancient civilizations, or whatever. Just take classes that force you to think a little differently than everybody else.

The reason, I think, this resonated with me so much was because I had a certain amount of academic insecurity at that moment in time. I was coming from an architecture and design background and my classmates were former investment bankers and management consultants, all of whom had a far better grasp of "the numbers" than I did. It meant that real estate recruiters didn't want to talk to me because I was the square peg for their round hole.

But being a square peg really motivated me.

I remember walking into the program director's office at that time and requesting that I be put into what was considered to be the more difficult real estate finance class offered at Wharton. He said that he didn't recommend it. Non-MBAs (which I was at the time) can't typically handle it. And if he put me into it, I would likely come back to him crying about how hard it was. I asked him to put me in it and said that I would come back to show him my "A." He put me in it and, yes, I got an "A."

But at the end of the day, the point that this executive was making at the lunch was that the math and mechanics behind things like cap rates, IRRs, and DCFs is not rocket science. Real estate is not rocket science. You of course need to know how this stuff all works, but it is not the be-all and end-all. The other critical parts of this are more art than science. What are the assumptions that I am making as part of my analysis? What do I believe about the future of the world? To answer these questions, you need think critically and laterally. And having a different perspective can help you do exactly that.

This was true back in 2008 and it's still true today.