One of the ways that cities determine where they should spend money and invest is through something known as Participatory Budgeting. The birthplace of this approach is generally thought to be Porto Alegre in Brazil, which first adopted it in 1989. Since then, it has become a mainstream practice and spread to cities all around the world, including New York and Paris, both of which operate ambitious programs.

In the case of Paris, they have committed 5% of their capital budget to be spent in this way. The way it generally works is simple: citizens get to propose ideas and then vote on which urban projects they think should be funded. Last year, Paris saw 2,079 ideas proposed, 261 projects put to a vote, 162,395 votes, and 104 projects selected. And since the program launched in 2014, over €768 million has been allocated.

Some of these projects are very local and specific, such as "build a sports facility on this street," while others are city-wide, like "make things cleaner, be better at sorting waste and recycling, and reduce noise."

While there's lots of debate about the effectiveness of Participatory Budgeting, it does offer a number of benefits. Studies have shown that it can improve public trust in government institutions by making them more accountable. It can also help to educate residents on what things actually cost, making trade-offs more understandable. But most importantly, it can help to better allocate funds.

After all, who better to decide what a neighborhood needs than the locals who live there every day? Just don't ask about building new housing.

So what did we uncover during yesterday's great urban design debate?

If I can extract one overarching takeaway, it's maybe this one: We need to be big and bold (have a compelling vision!), while at the same time getting out of the way of small-scale urban innovation. Joe Berridge, for example, felt strongly that Toronto is not taking full advantage of its waterfront. We've been too focused on bike lanes and parks, rather than on creating noteworthy global draws and aggressively marketing ourselves externally. Toronto needs its Sydney moment — something like a globally significant Opera House that attracts people from all around the world. I don't disagree. Cities need to do things that are remarkable.

At the same time, we spent a lot of time talking about the micro scale. Some of the most loved urban environments from around the world have the simplest built form: fine-grained and humble buildings fronting onto human-scaled streets — streets like Ossington in Toronto and seemingly every street in Paris. But that was then. This kind of built environment is mostly incongruent with how we plan and develop new communities today. We develop big, we impose top-down planning, and we no longer have the same inherent flexibility that our older building stock had.

Take, for instance, Toronto's East Bayfront, which is where this conference is taking place. It's a recently developed community with many or most of the hallmarks that constitute good urban design today: handsome architecture (including mass-timber buildings), pedestrian-friendly streets, well-designed public realms, and more. And yet, the area is largely void of any urban vibrancy. Other than the boardwalk along the water and a handful of restaurant patios, there's very little public life. Many of the buildings are also connected by bridges, which is not in and of itself a problem, but it further removes life from the street.

One of the ways that cities determine where they should spend money and invest is through something known as Participatory Budgeting. The birthplace of this approach is generally thought to be Porto Alegre in Brazil, which first adopted it in 1989. Since then, it has become a mainstream practice and spread to cities all around the world, including New York and Paris, both of which operate ambitious programs.

In the case of Paris, they have committed 5% of their capital budget to be spent in this way. The way it generally works is simple: citizens get to propose ideas and then vote on which urban projects they think should be funded. Last year, Paris saw 2,079 ideas proposed, 261 projects put to a vote, 162,395 votes, and 104 projects selected. And since the program launched in 2014, over €768 million has been allocated.

Some of these projects are very local and specific, such as "build a sports facility on this street," while others are city-wide, like "make things cleaner, be better at sorting waste and recycling, and reduce noise."

While there's lots of debate about the effectiveness of Participatory Budgeting, it does offer a number of benefits. Studies have shown that it can improve public trust in government institutions by making them more accountable. It can also help to educate residents on what things actually cost, making trade-offs more understandable. But most importantly, it can help to better allocate funds.

After all, who better to decide what a neighborhood needs than the locals who live there every day? Just don't ask about building new housing.

So what did we uncover during yesterday's great urban design debate?

If I can extract one overarching takeaway, it's maybe this one: We need to be big and bold (have a compelling vision!), while at the same time getting out of the way of small-scale urban innovation. Joe Berridge, for example, felt strongly that Toronto is not taking full advantage of its waterfront. We've been too focused on bike lanes and parks, rather than on creating noteworthy global draws and aggressively marketing ourselves externally. Toronto needs its Sydney moment — something like a globally significant Opera House that attracts people from all around the world. I don't disagree. Cities need to do things that are remarkable.

At the same time, we spent a lot of time talking about the micro scale. Some of the most loved urban environments from around the world have the simplest built form: fine-grained and humble buildings fronting onto human-scaled streets — streets like Ossington in Toronto and seemingly every street in Paris. But that was then. This kind of built environment is mostly incongruent with how we plan and develop new communities today. We develop big, we impose top-down planning, and we no longer have the same inherent flexibility that our older building stock had.

Take, for instance, Toronto's East Bayfront, which is where this conference is taking place. It's a recently developed community with many or most of the hallmarks that constitute good urban design today: handsome architecture (including mass-timber buildings), pedestrian-friendly streets, well-designed public realms, and more. And yet, the area is largely void of any urban vibrancy. Other than the boardwalk along the water and a handful of restaurant patios, there's very little public life. Many of the buildings are also connected by bridges, which is not in and of itself a problem, but it further removes life from the street.