Okay, so I haven't tried it yet. But Apple Vision looks pretty awesome and the people who have tried it seem to be very impressed by it. The best article that I have read, so far, is this one here by Ben Thompson (of Stratechery). He gets into some of the tech details and explains why Apple is probably the only company in the world that could have created a device like this.
For those of you who are interested, Apple Vision is still technically a VR device, even though it is being marketed as an augmented reality (AR) device that allows you to stay engaged with the world around you. This last part is true, but it is all done digitally through 12 cameras that capture the world around you and then display it back to you.
So experientially, yes, it is an AR device; however, the tech behind it is actually just exceptional VR.
But this is not the point of today's post. The point I would like to make is one that Ben raises at the end of his article. After praising Apple Vision's achievements, he goes on to argue that the arc of technology is one that is leading toward "ever more personal experiences." In other words, it is increasingly about individual, rather than group, use cases.
And this is one of the first things that I thought of when I watched the Vision Pro keynote. "Wow, this looks like a really cool way to watch and experience a movie. But how do I do that with my partner? I guess we both now need Vision Pros. And what about families with a bunch of kids? That is a lot of Vision Pros."
Okay, so I haven't tried it yet. But Apple Vision looks pretty awesome and the people who have tried it seem to be very impressed by it. The best article that I have read, so far, is this one here by Ben Thompson (of Stratechery). He gets into some of the tech details and explains why Apple is probably the only company in the world that could have created a device like this.
For those of you who are interested, Apple Vision is still technically a VR device, even though it is being marketed as an augmented reality (AR) device that allows you to stay engaged with the world around you. This last part is true, but it is all done digitally through 12 cameras that capture the world around you and then display it back to you.
So experientially, yes, it is an AR device; however, the tech behind it is actually just exceptional VR.
But this is not the point of today's post. The point I would like to make is one that Ben raises at the end of his article. After praising Apple Vision's achievements, he goes on to argue that the arc of technology is one that is leading toward "ever more personal experiences." In other words, it is increasingly about individual, rather than group, use cases.
And this is one of the first things that I thought of when I watched the Vision Pro keynote. "Wow, this looks like a really cool way to watch and experience a movie. But how do I do that with my partner? I guess we both now need Vision Pros. And what about families with a bunch of kids? That is a lot of Vision Pros."
But maybe this doesn't matter. Ben's point is that it's probably not an accident that this technology arc is happening at the same time as a larger societal shift away from family formation and toward more feelings of loneliness. Indeed, the number of single-person households has been steadily increasing in the US since the 1960s. The current figure sits at more than 1 in 4 households.
So there is an obviously dystopian narrative that we could all tell ourselves here. It is one where everyone works from home, plugs into virtual workplaces, and then flips over to other, more exciting, virtual worlds when it's time to unwind from the stresses of the former. And if you think about it, this isn't that much of a stretch compared to what many of us do today.
Whatever the case, in my mind, none of this is any reason to become bearish on cities. Humans will still be humans. And none of this tech is going to replace the feeling of enjoying a perfect pesto gnocchi in an impossibly narrow laneway in Milan, or drinking a caipirinha on the beaches of Rio de Janeiro while being surrounded by shockingly beautiful people.
But maybe this doesn't matter. Ben's point is that it's probably not an accident that this technology arc is happening at the same time as a larger societal shift away from family formation and toward more feelings of loneliness. Indeed, the number of single-person households has been steadily increasing in the US since the 1960s. The current figure sits at more than 1 in 4 households.
So there is an obviously dystopian narrative that we could all tell ourselves here. It is one where everyone works from home, plugs into virtual workplaces, and then flips over to other, more exciting, virtual worlds when it's time to unwind from the stresses of the former. And if you think about it, this isn't that much of a stretch compared to what many of us do today.
Whatever the case, in my mind, none of this is any reason to become bearish on cities. Humans will still be humans. And none of this tech is going to replace the feeling of enjoying a perfect pesto gnocchi in an impossibly narrow laneway in Milan, or drinking a caipirinha on the beaches of Rio de Janeiro while being surrounded by shockingly beautiful people.
Not surprisingly, the responses were divided. Some responded saying that beauty is more important than density, and a lot of people were quick to point out that there's good density and there's bad density. And because I can appreciate both of these comments, it made me think that I should probably elaborate on my glib tweet.
The points I was trying to vaguely imply are the following.
More often than not (at least for North American cities), I think our problem is not too much density, it's too little. This translates into cities that aren't walkable, aren't conducive to transit, and that are overall less sustainable. Right now, every mayoral candidate in Toronto is promising to fix our crippling traffic congestion. I don't know how they're going to do it, but they're promising it because they know it's something people are pissed off about.
But here's my take: counterintuitively, the problem is not enough density. The problem is that too many people in our region have no reasonable way to get around without a car. So they're forced to drive. The way you fix this not as simple as more traffic enforcement or better signal timing. Good luck! You fix it through density, because density is what makes other forms of mobility suddenly possible.
All of this is not to say that density alone will render you a great city. Obviously things like beauty also matter a great deal. But in my opinion, density is a fundamental component. Because what good is beauty if you don't have any urban vibrancy? The answer is that you probably don't have a real city.
The other point I was trying to make is that space and density are both relative and oftentimes difficult to understand. We think building height and density are correlated, but that's not always the case. Look at Paris or Barcelona. We also like to make a lot of spatial rules that we think are right and make our cities better: streets should be at least this wide, buildings should be no taller than the width of the street, and so on.
But here (pictured above) is a street that narrows to around 6 meters and has buildings that are probably 2.5-3x the width of the right-of-way. Sure, it also happens to be beautiful, historic, and Italian. But what would happen if you maintained this same beauty and made the street 5x as wide and lined up parking in front of the stores?
Somehow it wouldn't be as enjoyable as what you see here.
If you have narrow streets and reasonably decent buildings that frame them, you have a base condition that has worked remarkably well since the creation of cities. Almost by default, and even if you don't have proper sidewalks, it is going to feel pedestrian-oriented.
The challenge, however, is that it's usually difficult to create these after the fact. Street networks are powerfully sticky; they generally don't change unless you have someone like Haussmann rebuilding your city. So if you have these in your city, try and take advantage of them. You're fortunate to have them.
The above two photos/measurements are from Milan. Both streets are around 20 feet wide (or 6 meters), which happens to be the required width of a standard two-way drive aisle here in Toronto. It's a good example of how differently cities can view and allocate space.
You can do a lot with 6 meters.
Not surprisingly, the responses were divided. Some responded saying that beauty is more important than density, and a lot of people were quick to point out that there's good density and there's bad density. And because I can appreciate both of these comments, it made me think that I should probably elaborate on my glib tweet.
The points I was trying to vaguely imply are the following.
More often than not (at least for North American cities), I think our problem is not too much density, it's too little. This translates into cities that aren't walkable, aren't conducive to transit, and that are overall less sustainable. Right now, every mayoral candidate in Toronto is promising to fix our crippling traffic congestion. I don't know how they're going to do it, but they're promising it because they know it's something people are pissed off about.
But here's my take: counterintuitively, the problem is not enough density. The problem is that too many people in our region have no reasonable way to get around without a car. So they're forced to drive. The way you fix this not as simple as more traffic enforcement or better signal timing. Good luck! You fix it through density, because density is what makes other forms of mobility suddenly possible.
All of this is not to say that density alone will render you a great city. Obviously things like beauty also matter a great deal. But in my opinion, density is a fundamental component. Because what good is beauty if you don't have any urban vibrancy? The answer is that you probably don't have a real city.
The other point I was trying to make is that space and density are both relative and oftentimes difficult to understand. We think building height and density are correlated, but that's not always the case. Look at Paris or Barcelona. We also like to make a lot of spatial rules that we think are right and make our cities better: streets should be at least this wide, buildings should be no taller than the width of the street, and so on.
But here (pictured above) is a street that narrows to around 6 meters and has buildings that are probably 2.5-3x the width of the right-of-way. Sure, it also happens to be beautiful, historic, and Italian. But what would happen if you maintained this same beauty and made the street 5x as wide and lined up parking in front of the stores?
Somehow it wouldn't be as enjoyable as what you see here.
If you have narrow streets and reasonably decent buildings that frame them, you have a base condition that has worked remarkably well since the creation of cities. Almost by default, and even if you don't have proper sidewalks, it is going to feel pedestrian-oriented.
The challenge, however, is that it's usually difficult to create these after the fact. Street networks are powerfully sticky; they generally don't change unless you have someone like Haussmann rebuilding your city. So if you have these in your city, try and take advantage of them. You're fortunate to have them.
The above two photos/measurements are from Milan. Both streets are around 20 feet wide (or 6 meters), which happens to be the required width of a standard two-way drive aisle here in Toronto. It's a good example of how differently cities can view and allocate space.
