Between 2016 and 2021, and according to this recent report from Statistics Canada, the population of the Toronto CMA (Census Metropolitan Area) grew by over 274k people:

The population of the Montréal CMA grew by nearly 188k people:

And the population of the Vancouver CMA grew by over 179k people:

These are the three largest CMAs in the country and they, not surprisingly, also have the three largest "downtowns." As of the spring of 2021, the most populated downtowns were as follows: Toronto (275,931 people), Vancouver (121,932 people), Montréal (109,509), Ottawa (67,169 people), and Edmonton (55,387).

In this exercise, Statistics Canada breaks down each CMA into 5 categories, which are generally based on two things: (1) your typical monocentric city model (downtown in the middle with a declining gradient of surrounding sprawl) and (2) how long it takes to commute -- by car during non-rush hours -- from downtown to the surrounding areas.

The good news in all of this is that Canada's downtowns seem to be doing just fine. Broadly speaking, they are growing at a faster rate than their respective CMAs and growing at 2x the rate of the previous census cycle. Halifax's downtown grew at 26.1% from 2016 to 2021 and Calgary grew at 21%, to give two more examples. So I think you can safely ignore what you may have heard about a pandemic exodus. Those people are now returning from the country after realizing that there aren't any pretentious coffee shops and expensive butcher shops.

But something else is also going on in Canada's largest urban centers. The concurrent trend is continued urban sprawl. The biggest downtowns are growing quickly, but so are the distant suburbs (30 minutes or more from downtown). And they are growing at a faster rate than everything in between. This is not entirely surprising, but it is obviously concerning from a climate change perspective and because it suggests that people are being forced to do the old "drive until you qualify" thing.

These two phenomena are the most pronounced in the Toronto CMA. If you scroll back up to the top of this post, you'll see that downtown absorbed a decent chunk of the population growth (about 14%), particularly considering its small footprint. But then if you look at the distant suburbs (the mustard color), you'll see that it's where 72% of new entrants went!

The question I like to ask with all of this is, "are people choosing to move to the distant suburbs because that's the housing and location that they truly want, or are people choosing it because it's all they can afford?" There is an argument out there that sprawl is a natural market outcome and that we shouldn't be forcing people to live in higher-density housing. And I am certainly sympathetic to giving people as much choice as possible.

But how much choice are we really giving people in our biggest cities? We have figured out how to intensify our downtowns through mid- and high-rise development. And evidenced by the growth rates, many people are enjoying this form of housing and the kind of urban lifestyle that comes along with it. But if it happens to not work for you, our current solution is, "either be rich so you can remain close to downtown or go for a drive."

What is clear from this latest census data is that we haven't yet figured out the in-between. The missing middle is still missing. And that's because we have clear mechanisms in place to more or less ensure this is the case: (1) We restrict meaningful growth from taking place in our single-family neighbourhoods and (2) we have made a habit out of shifting some of the incumbent tax burden to new entrants through things like development charges.

Overall, it's a devilishly clever system where two things happen: "Sorry, you can't build that kind of housing here. Build it somewhere else. By the way, I'd like to keep my property taxes as low as possible, so not only do I not what you close to me, but I'd also like you to help pay for some things. Cool?" This is the arrangement that we are seeing playing out in these charts. It can be easy to ignore, but it's there.

Charts: Statistics Canada

This week I have been thinking and reading about monocentric and polycentric cities. In urban real estate economics, the monocentric city model has historically been an important economic model. Developed in the 1960s, it attempts to explain land use in cities with one core, or central business district (CBD).

In its most simplest terms, the model states that as you move further away from that core, land prices will fall. But since retail and employment need to be at the center of large catchment areas, they will remain in the middle, while the residential will naturally spread out.

When you begin to factor in transportation costs, there is an argument to be made for why inner cities neighborhoods were often poorer in North American cities (no car; higher transportation costs) and why the suburbs were often wealthier. In this latter case, the rich wanted to consume more home/real estate and their transportation costs weren’t as significant. They had cars and subsidized highways in which to drive them on.

Of course, there are many ways in which you could argue against the above. Today, urban neighborhoods are some of the most desirable areas in many cities. 

But perhaps the most obvious thing to question is the idea that cities only have one central business district. I mean, just look at all the employment nodes in Toronto. Yes, downtown Toronto is still the dominant zone, but could we really be considered monocentric?

From what I remember, the model had mechanisms for dealing with polycentricity. But at the same time, so much has changed since the 1960s. The central business district with its big department store was only just getting introduced to the likes of fully enclosed, climate-controlled suburban malls. And of course today, we are now living in a world of Amazon Prime and independent workers.

So what does this mean for cities?

Well, as I was reading up on this topic I stumbled upon this diagram by architect Cedric Price (1934-2003):

I wish I knew exactly when this diagram was created, but I wasn’t able to find that online. In any event, the diagram uses different kinds of eggs – boiled, fried, and then scrambled – to explain the urban morphology of cities over time.

In the ancient world, cities had a clearly defined core and a clearly defined perimeter – often a wall for defence (boiled egg). In the 17-19th centuries, cities started to expand outwards through the advent of technologies like rail. This gave them a more irregular shape (fried egg). And then finally, Cedric argues that the modern city had, or would, become all mixed together like scrambled eggs.

I wouldn’t say that our cities have become completely scrambled. But I would agree that we are moving away from the simple fried egg of a city (or monocentric city model). So I guess the big question is really: How scrambled do you think we’ll get?