Brandon Donnelly

Daily insights for city builders, delivered every morning at 6 AM ET. I’m Brandon Donnelly — a Toronto-based real estate developer and founder of Globizen. I’ve been writing here since 2013.

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Category: Planning

  • Why Utah wants to build the world’s longest and most expensive urban gondola

    If you drive around the Cottonwood Heights neighborhood in Salt Lake City, which I have done multiple times over the last year, you will invariably see lawn signs shouting for “no gondola!” And the reason for this is that last summer, the Utah Department of Transportation (UDOT) came forward with its preferred solution to traffic congestion in Little Cottonwood Canyon: an eight-mile long gondola all the way up and into the mountains. If built, this would apparently be the longest and most expensive urban gondola in the world.

    To try and explain why this is being recommended, I’ll give the example of what happened to us when we were there last week. We drove into Little Cottonwood Canyon on Tuesday morning when it was not snowing. We left Park City around 8am, passed through the valley (Salt Lake City), and arrived at Snowbird (resort) in around 45 minutes. This is normally how long it takes. But on the way up it started snowing, and it didn’t stop all day. (Nice!) So our drive home took significantly longer and looked like this (we were going 8-10 miles per hour all the way down):

    This is what happens when it snows in the canyons. Which is why a wise bartender at one of the resorts advised us that, “on powder days, you need to leave the valley at 6AM. Because at some point, some asshole is going to think they can get up the canyon in a Tesla, and they will ruin it for everyone. It’s better to nap in your car at the resort than white knuckle for 2-3 hours.” During our drive home, we learned that he was not at all joking. This is what happens. And it is why UDOT wants to build one really long urban gondola.

    There are, however, some very good reasons why urban gondolas aren’t really that common. Portland has one. Medellín has one. And apparently both are quite successful. But other than these examples, they generally aren’t thought of as the most effective tool in the transportation arsenal:

    Gondolas are low-capacity vehicles that quickly get cramped if turned into high capacity ones. They don’t work well for multiple stops. As a result, they are a point-to-point transportation method with low capacity. They are also expensive, especially relative to how many people they might serve, making them financially unattractive options for most applications. At their best, gondolas work when traversing difficult terrain with a consistent but low ridership, which is why they’re most often deployed on ski resorts.

    But this situation is maybe a bit unique. It’s kind of urban transport, but really it’s for people to get up the canyon and shred deep powder. Here’s more on how it might work:

    The Cottonwood Canyon gondola would be a hybrid of sorts between urban transportation solution and resort-based gondola. The proposal is to build a massive 2,500-spot parking garage at the base of the canyon, about 20 miles from downtown and the airport, where people will park. They will then ride the gondola for 27 minutes to Snowbird or 37 minutes to Alta, a trip duration which has no parallel in the urban or resort gondola scene (the Snowbird tram, one of the most famous in the world, fits more than 100 people per tram but takes less than 10 minutes to ride). Even though the gondola would serve two ski resorts, it belongs more to the urban gondola concept because it is being proposed and recommended by the state’s transportation department as a solution to a recurring traffic problem.

    As a snowboarder, this sounds great. But it is, of course, complicated. Conservation groups are objecting, and some/many taxpayers don’t want to pay for a gondola that will largely benefit two ski resorts. Especially one that doesn’t permit snowboarders (I made this part up). So we’ll see. A final decision is expected by UDOT this summer. In the meantime, if you’re interested in urban gondolas, check out this recent article in Vice Magazine by Aaron Gordon (quoted above). He does a good job explaining both sides of this debate. And if you are interested in this topic, I’d be curious to hear whether you think this is a good idea or not.

  • A template for opposing new housing

    Okay, I really don’t want to make this — using ChatGPT to write my blog posts for me — a habit. But I was genuinely curious what would happen if I asked it to: “write a stereotypical NIMBY letter opposing a new housing development.” Here’s what it generated.

    Dear Sir/Madam,

    I am writing to express my strong opposition to the proposed housing development in our neighborhood. While I understand the need for affordable housing in our city, I believe that this project would have a detrimental impact on our community.

    First and foremost, the proposed development is simply too large for our area. The increase in population density would put a strain on our already overburdened infrastructure, leading to increased traffic congestion, noise pollution, and strain on our public services. Additionally, the construction of this project would result in significant environmental damage, destroying natural habitats and putting wildlife at risk.

    Furthermore, the type of housing being proposed is simply not in keeping with the character of our neighborhood. This development would bring in a large number of low-income residents, which could lead to increased crime rates and other negative social effects. It would also drastically alter the aesthetic of our area, replacing the existing greenery and open spaces with a monolithic, high-density housing complex.

    Finally, I am deeply concerned about the impact this development would have on property values in the surrounding area. The influx of low-income residents could result in a decline in property values, making it difficult for current residents to sell their homes and move elsewhere.

    In conclusion, I strongly urge you to reconsider this proposed housing development. While I recognize the need for affordable housing, I believe that this project is simply not the right fit for our neighborhood. Thank you for your attention to this matter.

    Sincerely, [Your Name]

    I must say that I’m impressed. It is a solid 5-paragraph letter that follows a tried and true formula. First, the entire letter is sandwiched between thinly veiled statements around the importance of housing. Both the introduction and conclusion speak to “the need for affordable housing.”

    And then in the middle of the letter, it hits on the holy trinity of opposition arguments: (1) overburdened/inadequate infrastructure, (2) neighborhood character, and (3) property values. I’m not sure there’s much to improve on here. These computers are good.

    So if you happen to need one of these, you may want to try ChatGPT.

  • Beautiful brick mid-rise proposed for Toronto’s Junction neighborhood

    Last week, Sierra Communities (developer) and my friend Gabriel Fain (architect of Mackay Laneway House fame) submitted the above development proposal for 2760 Dundas Street West in the Junction. It is a beautiful proposal. So not surprisingly, the response has been overwhelmingly positive. Here are the first batch of comments from Urban Toronto:

    It also happens to be one block west of our Junction House project, so I definitely would have been annoyed if somebody proposed something ugly here. I am 99.9% biased, but I think the Junction has some of the best new mid-rise buildings in the city. Presumably, this is what “Mrgeosim” was getting at with their comment about “the number of good proposals for this neighbourhood.”

    But here’s the thing. This is a relatively small proposal. It’s a 6-storey mid-rise building with 28 new homes on top of a tiny 482 square meter site (16m frontage). This makes it a challenging new development to execute on. So the fact that this is required to go through the typical rezoning and site plan processes is, in my opinion, a painful problem.

    We should be doing everything we can to encourage these kinds of new housing developments all across the city. And that necessarily means removing as many barriers as possible. A pair of development applications and a few community meetings may seem benign, but they’re not. They add time and real costs that then need to be passed onto future residents.

    There is also a very valid question around what kind of development charges (or impact fees) we should be levying on projects of this scale. If you want to build a laneway suite in the City of Toronto, you can have the development charges deferred and eventually forgiven. Why? Because we want more rental housing and we have arguably recognized that it’s important for project feasibility.

    Should the same apply if you’re building 2 new homes, or perhaps 28 new homes? At what point should the “impacts” kick in and the fees be levied? And might there be an argument that adding many new homes on top of small 482 square meter parcels is actually an incredibly efficient way of using existing public infrastructure? I think so.

    Congratulations to the team on a beautiful proposal! I’m looking forward to this being our neighbor.

    Image: Gabriel Fain Architects

  • Transit-oriented vs. single-family

    Michael Beach used to have a YouTube channel where he “looked at Google Maps a lot.” Meaning, he would pan around various cities and comment on their planning and overall built form. Technically the channel still exists, but he stopped making new videos a few years ago. Here is one where he talks about Dubai being “an absolute mess” (3.8 million views) and here is one where he looks at North York (in Toronto) and asks: “why is it here?”

    The most important point from his North York video is that it illustrates the deep divide that exists in Toronto (and other North American cities) between single-family “Neighbourhoods” (a defined planning term) and higher-density transit nodes, where things like tall buildings are allowed to go.

    In the case of North York, this contrast is perhaps at its most stark. Even the street network is designed to stop these two urban forms from commingling with each other too much. There are ring roads that surround the transit-oriented density, and separate, more suburban streets on the other side of it:

    This contrast is why there are so many people talking about the “missing middle.” And I’m sure that if you started asking random people on the street, most would agree that it would be nice if we could build more moderately-scaled housing. You know, like those buildings you see in Paris.

    The problem: Where should it go? Some people would probably suggest the left side of the above ring road. Just don’t build as tall, okay? But this kind of land is already a scarce commodity in a city like Toronto. We need these tall buildings because most of the city is codified to look like the right side of the above ring road.

    So if we have any chance of actually finding the missing middle, it is going to need to happen here, on the right side. Some progress has been made, not just in Toronto but across North America, with accessory dwellings (laneway suites). But it’s not going to be enough.

    This was simply a first step. It was us finding a solution to, “how can we add some more housing here without changing the look and feel and character of these residential streets in any way?” But even this small and incremental change has proven to be exceedingly controversial. People still react to new laneway suites like this:

    https://twitter.com/evboyce/status/1624840523516182528?s=20&t=Q9gCZfTGLz51rVyupxJDPg

    There are complex dynamics at play here.

    If you’re a homeowner that decides to create a new rental home at the rear of your property, you might be viewed as greedy. You are creating something (a home) that someone needs, and you intend to make a small margin on the transaction. It’s like making and selling bread for a small margin, except that selling delicious bread to people is typically viewed in a positive light. On the other hand, ensuring that the value of your house remains as high as possible is generally good practice here. Greed doesn’t factor in this way because, you know, single-family homes.

    There is no surprise why the missing middle is missing. It is missing because we have decided that we want it to be. But hey, $2,145 per month seems like a very reasonable price for a 2-bedroom house.

  • Walkable areas are a scarce commodity in cities

    According to this recent report by Smart Growth America, which looked at “walkable urbanism” in the largest 35 metro areas in the US, only about 1.2% of land is, on average, built out in this way. Everything else needs to be driven.

    But here’s the thing. Humans seem to really enjoy walkable urbanism, and will usually pay more for it:

    City dwellers will pay to live in a walkable location. Real estate in these areas averages a 34% price premium per square foot in for-sale housing and 41% for multifamily rental apartments.

    It also, by definition, punches above its weight:

    Walkable neighborhoods in just those 35 metro areas account for 19.1% of the total US real GDP and 6.8% of the total US population, by the researchers’ calculations.

    That’s how density works. You get to do more, with less.

    At the same time, not every place should be Midtown Manhattan (which the report labels as the highest walkable urban place with a floor area ratio of 40). There are a wide range of densities that will work, including modest ones (FARs between 1-3).

    Here in Toronto, many of our single-family home neighborhoods have densities that are zoned for a maximum FAR of 0.6, which is quite restrictive if you’re hoping to build something like a multi-unit building.

    This is, of course, the point. But imagine what all could be done here with even an incremental change.

  • High Park vs. Central Park

    This compare-and-contrast tweet between Toronto’s High Park and New York’s Central Park was not meant to suggest that New York is a perfect comparable to appropriate (Toronto is not New York), or that foliage isn’t important in our urban environments. Instead, it was meant to highlight that:

    • The towers north of High Park (and north of Bloor Street) could almost certainly never be built in today’s planning environment. The recently built point towers exist because the slab towers were already there.
    • This condition of height/density tucked and setback off of main streets is something that you will find across Toronto, as well as in a number of other cities.
    • Sometimes it can be rightly argued that this is being done in order to preserve a fine-grained and pedestrian-scaled public realm, which is important. But in other cases, like the one above, it feels like a clear reluctance to accept big-city status and any sort of urban grandeur. Are we still trying to be a Victorian city?
    • Equally important in the design of public spaces are the edges and “walls” that frame it. And High Park’s edges need work. Why is there almost nowhere to go and hang out on the main edge of Toronto’s principal urban park? You have to go up to the Junction for that.
    • In general, the land around many of our higher-order transit stations is grossly underutilized. And this is a perfect example of that. What should happen here are some large-scale upzonings.

  • Bad and good street networks

    Let’s add some historical context to yesterday’s post about autonomous vehicles. As the regular non-autonomous version of cars started to infiltrate our cities in the early 20th century, largely following the creation of the mass-produced Ford Model T, there was a general view that cars were dangerous and a menace to cities. Arguably, not much has changed.

    So in the 1930s, the Federal Housing Authority decided to publish a pamphlet explaining what street networks it thought were suitable for this new emerging car world and which street networks were not. The exact terms that they used were “bad” and “good”, and here’s what that looked like (taken from this CNU article):

    The “bad” ones are largely how the US liked to design its cities before the arrival of the car. Some historic settlements, like Boston and Manhattan south of 14th street were based on different street logics, but as far back as the 1680s, William Penn had already started laying out a grid iron plan for Philadelphia. And in reality, this kind of street pattern goes all the way back to ancient cities.

    However, when the car arrived, these grid iron plans were thought to offer an inadequate amount of separation between people and machine. The solution was to optimize around the car and introduce a clear hierarchy of different streets. Big streets for moving cars quickly, and smaller streets, like cul-de-sacs, for people to live on.

    These “good” examples, of course, represent the modern suburb. But we now recognize that these types of street networks are unequivocally terrible for walkability, the environment, public health, social equity, and a whole host of other things. I mean, look at this extreme example of two suburban homes in Orlando whose backyards adjoin but are technically separated by 7 miles and a 20-minute drive!

    My point with all of this is that, for many/most at the time, this was progress. Cars were the future and there was optimism about the kind of freedoms and other benefits that they would bring to people. And this optimism is perhaps not all that different from what many people feel today, myself included, when it comes to autonomous vehicles.

    So on the one hand, you could point to the car and say, “look at all the damage that this thing did to our cities. Let’s not do that again. Autonomous vehicles must be stopped.” But that’s akin to wishing the car was never invented. Another option is to point to the negative externalities associated with the car and say, “look at what we’ve done. We can do better. Let’s make our cities better.”

    Positive change, no matter how late, is always a possibility.

  • Victoria, BC passes missing middle housing initiative

    The City of Victoria, BC did a good thing last week: It passed its “Missing Middle Housing Initiative“, which means that up 6 dwelling units (their language not mine) will soon be permissible on every single-family lot in the city, and up to 12 dwelling units will be permissible in “corner townhouses”. These land uses changes come into effect on Sunday, March 12, 2023 (45 days after adoption).

    Here on the blog, we’ve been talking about this shift toward intensifying our single-family neighborhoods for many years. And momentum clearly continues to grow. At face value, this appears to be one of the more enlightened moves by a city: 6 homes and 12 homes. Though these headline numbers may have something to do with the average lot sizes in Victoria. Either way, the devil is in the details. And here are some of those details:

    What is positive to see is that a number of other zoning requirements have been updated. Because it’s not enough to just say, “Hey, we’re going to allow more homes on each lot. There, we’ve done something. Developers, go and do that.” Here, the allowable height has been increased, setbacks have been decreased, and the floor space ratio (site density) has been increased from 0.5 to 1.1 (assuming you do at least one amenity contribution).

    I don’t know if this is exactly right and if it’s everything that developers will need in order to start building a lot more missing middle housing in Victoria. (If you’re a local developer, please let me know in the comment section below.) But I think it’s certainly a step in the right direction.

  • The inclusionary zoning paradox

    What do you get when you have some of the most stringent affordable housing requirements in the United States? You might think that you get lots and lots of affordable housing, but that is not the case in San Francisco. Paradoxically, you still get some of the most expensive housing in the United States. And part of the reason for this — according to this inclusionary zoning review committee — is as follows:

    Of all 40 scenarios, only four, all of them ownership-based, penciled out while satisfying the inclusionary program. Many of the projects that were designated as feasible, or came close to it, were smaller. That could be because larger structures use more expensive union labor and tend to contain advanced safety systems, like elevators that can operate during fires, said Strachan Forgan, principal at SCB, an architecture and design firm.

    Among the 20 that were rental projects, only one was shown to be feasible, but it did not satisfy the city’s mandatory inclusionary policy. While not yet ready to make recommendations, the committee members accepted the findings as accurate. Multiple development experts who reviewed the analysis for The Chronicle said it appeared to be well done.

    What is often missing from analyses about inclusionary zoning is how many projects it makes infeasible as a result of the requirement. It is not no-cost affordable housing. There are real costs and real impacts. But we like to tell ourselves that this isn’t the case because, at the end of the day, we’re not really that serious about building more housing and building more affordable housing. Too inconvenient. Too disruptive.