Brandon Donnelly
Daily insights for city builders. Published since 2013 by Toronto-based real estate developer Brandon Donnelly.
Brandon Donnelly
Daily insights for city builders. Published since 2013 by Toronto-based real estate developer Brandon Donnelly.
Ben Thompson is an American technology analyst who writes a widely read newsletter called Stratechery. He also used to live in Taipei, where he lived continuously for 12 years.
But this past summer he moved back to Wisconsin, trading his urban life for a suburban one. And so his latest article starts with a more personal note, talking about what it's like to return to the US (though the larger point of the post is the intersection of robotaxis and suburbia).
I spent a summer in Taipei in my early 20's and grew to love the place after the first few weeks, and so I was expecting his re-acclimation to have been a bit more jarring. But it turns out, Ben is happy to be back and, in particular, he's happy to be back living in the suburbs.
His post even goes on to question whether the mobility transformations we are seeing today might be about to cement some kind of "end to urbanism":
What is worth considering, however, is if the last wave of urbanism, which started in the 1990s and peaked in the 2010s, might be the last, at least in the United States (Asia and its massive metropolises are another story). The potential physical transformation in transportation and delivery I am talking about is simply completing the story that started with entertainment and television in the first wave of suburbia, and then information and interactivity via the Internet, particularly since COVID. There are real benefits to being in person, just like there are to living in the city, but the relative delta to working remote or living in the suburbs has decreased dramatically; meanwhile, offices and urban living can never match the advantages inherent to working from a big home with a big yard.
Whether or not this is good thing is a separate discussion; I will say it has been good for me, and it’s poised to get even better.
I grew up in the suburbs of Toronto. I initially made the mistake of going to university in Waterloo, but I immediately started to envy my friends who were living downtown and going to the University of Toronto. So I course-corrected and transferred.
When it came time to go to grad school, I had learned my lesson: a proper urban center was a non-negotiable item. So I moved to Philadelphia and absolutely fell in love with the city's walkability, historic scale, and nightlife. It also didn't hurt that I could take a Chinatown bus to Manhattan for $10.
In fact, when I temporarily returned to the suburbs of Toronto after school — before once again moving into the city — I vividly remember missing Philly. I missed its urbanity. I missed walking everywhere. It was either that, or I just missed the good old "special" at Bob and Barbara's on South Street.
Since moving back to Toronto after school, I have yet to live beyond the confines of High Park, St. Clair Avenue, and the Don River. Maybe one day I will, or maybe I won't. The oldest parts of our city have always felt the most like home to me.
Sure, I also have a deep love for the mountains, but when I daydream about places where I could really live, my mind always goes to big cities like Paris, Tokyo, and Rio de Janeiro (city and mountains!).
I'm not here to impose my views (just write about them). We all have our lifestyle preferences. And I can appreciate that, for many, like Ben, the suburbs offer a compelling value proposition. His view is also supported by history: new technologies do often have a decentralizing effect on cities.
Cover photo by TangChi Lee on Unsplash
Last year, Pew Research Center asked over 5,000 adult Americans whether they would rather (1) live in a community with smaller houses that are within walking distance of schools, stores, and restaurants, or (2) live in a community with larger houses, but where schools, stores, and restaurants are several miles away. The result:
I'll be the first to admit that I have an urban bias. I like walkable narrow streets. I like being able to cycle around. And I like not having to drive when I want to do things. But this can create a city-building blindspot and Paul Kulig, Principal at Perkins&Will Toronto, reminded me of that this week. Here's a tweet where he compares two streets, both of which have a right-of-way width somewhere around 40m:
Ben Thompson is an American technology analyst who writes a widely read newsletter called Stratechery. He also used to live in Taipei, where he lived continuously for 12 years.
But this past summer he moved back to Wisconsin, trading his urban life for a suburban one. And so his latest article starts with a more personal note, talking about what it's like to return to the US (though the larger point of the post is the intersection of robotaxis and suburbia).
I spent a summer in Taipei in my early 20's and grew to love the place after the first few weeks, and so I was expecting his re-acclimation to have been a bit more jarring. But it turns out, Ben is happy to be back and, in particular, he's happy to be back living in the suburbs.
His post even goes on to question whether the mobility transformations we are seeing today might be about to cement some kind of "end to urbanism":
What is worth considering, however, is if the last wave of urbanism, which started in the 1990s and peaked in the 2010s, might be the last, at least in the United States (Asia and its massive metropolises are another story). The potential physical transformation in transportation and delivery I am talking about is simply completing the story that started with entertainment and television in the first wave of suburbia, and then information and interactivity via the Internet, particularly since COVID. There are real benefits to being in person, just like there are to living in the city, but the relative delta to working remote or living in the suburbs has decreased dramatically; meanwhile, offices and urban living can never match the advantages inherent to working from a big home with a big yard.
Whether or not this is good thing is a separate discussion; I will say it has been good for me, and it’s poised to get even better.
I grew up in the suburbs of Toronto. I initially made the mistake of going to university in Waterloo, but I immediately started to envy my friends who were living downtown and going to the University of Toronto. So I course-corrected and transferred.
When it came time to go to grad school, I had learned my lesson: a proper urban center was a non-negotiable item. So I moved to Philadelphia and absolutely fell in love with the city's walkability, historic scale, and nightlife. It also didn't hurt that I could take a Chinatown bus to Manhattan for $10.
In fact, when I temporarily returned to the suburbs of Toronto after school — before once again moving into the city — I vividly remember missing Philly. I missed its urbanity. I missed walking everywhere. It was either that, or I just missed the good old "special" at Bob and Barbara's on South Street.
Since moving back to Toronto after school, I have yet to live beyond the confines of High Park, St. Clair Avenue, and the Don River. Maybe one day I will, or maybe I won't. The oldest parts of our city have always felt the most like home to me.
Sure, I also have a deep love for the mountains, but when I daydream about places where I could really live, my mind always goes to big cities like Paris, Tokyo, and Rio de Janeiro (city and mountains!).
I'm not here to impose my views (just write about them). We all have our lifestyle preferences. And I can appreciate that, for many, like Ben, the suburbs offer a compelling value proposition. His view is also supported by history: new technologies do often have a decentralizing effect on cities.
Cover photo by TangChi Lee on Unsplash
Last year, Pew Research Center asked over 5,000 adult Americans whether they would rather (1) live in a community with smaller houses that are within walking distance of schools, stores, and restaurants, or (2) live in a community with larger houses, but where schools, stores, and restaurants are several miles away. The result:
I'll be the first to admit that I have an urban bias. I like walkable narrow streets. I like being able to cycle around. And I like not having to drive when I want to do things. But this can create a city-building blindspot and Paul Kulig, Principal at Perkins&Will Toronto, reminded me of that this week. Here's a tweet where he compares two streets, both of which have a right-of-way width somewhere around 40m:
On average, most respondents preferred the latter option -- the larger home. However, there are some demographic groups that feel differently. If you're young (under 29), highly-educated, Democratic-leaning, and/or Asian, this survey suggests that you have a preference for smaller houses in more walkable communities.
More specifically, in this chart, it's interesting to note that 62% of Asians (survey only counted English speakers), 55% of those aged 18-29, 54% of those with a post-graduate degree, and 65% of liberal Democrats prefer denser places that allow you to walk to more places.
A lot of this isn't surprising, but I don't think I've seen data supporting such a strong leaning from Asian adults before. What makes this even more interesting is that White and Asian households are by far the two richest ethnic groups in America. And here, when it comes to built form preferences, they're on opposite ends of the spectrum.
Another important consideration is the cost of living in walkable versus car-oriented communities. Generally speaking, the latter is less expensive on a cost per square foot basis for homeowners; though, this obviously doesn't include the indirect costs of transportation and the additional time it to takes to commute places.
It is also more expensive to service and bring infrastructure to more spread-out communities. There are real economies to density. Despite this, higher-density living tends to be more expensive. Part of this has to do with higher build costs and more restrictive zoning, but it could also be a scarcity of supply (most of the US is car-oriented).
Indeed, there is a well-established premium to living in walkable communities, which creates an interesting dynamic. The thing that the majority of people reportedly don't want or don't prefer is actually more expensive. This always makes me wonder: What if this wasn't the case? What would happen if we didn't have this cost-of-living differential?
Charts from Pew Research Center; cover photo by Dmitry Tomashek on Unsplash
The image on the left is Prenzlauer Allee in Berlin. And the image on the right is Finch Avenue West in Toronto. Despite both having light rail running down the middle, one of these streets is walkable, vibrant, and generally urban, and the other is very suburban. What this reminds us is that a wide street isn't necessarily an insurmountable challenge. It's ultimately how we design that street that is the make or break.
Here's another look at Prenzlaurer Allee:
In addition to transit running down the middle of it, it also has a ton of on-street parking. In many cases, the cars are parked perpendicular to the curb. So it's not like this street isn't also accommodating to motorists. The key differentiator is how the buildings are placed. They come right up to the street and are accompanied by a great pedestrian realm (note all the patios below).
This is one of the things that Toronto needs to be focused on following the investments made in public transit on streets like Finch and Eglinton. We don't want generous setbacks on these streets. Make them 0m. Towers in a park kill any chance of street life. We can talk all we want about "active frontages" on our arterial roads, but who wants to sit on a patio on a street like Finch? Nobody.
But as Berlin shows, there's absolutely no reason why we couldn't change that. Thanks for the reminder, Paul.
Cover photo via Google Street View
On average, most respondents preferred the latter option -- the larger home. However, there are some demographic groups that feel differently. If you're young (under 29), highly-educated, Democratic-leaning, and/or Asian, this survey suggests that you have a preference for smaller houses in more walkable communities.
More specifically, in this chart, it's interesting to note that 62% of Asians (survey only counted English speakers), 55% of those aged 18-29, 54% of those with a post-graduate degree, and 65% of liberal Democrats prefer denser places that allow you to walk to more places.
A lot of this isn't surprising, but I don't think I've seen data supporting such a strong leaning from Asian adults before. What makes this even more interesting is that White and Asian households are by far the two richest ethnic groups in America. And here, when it comes to built form preferences, they're on opposite ends of the spectrum.
Another important consideration is the cost of living in walkable versus car-oriented communities. Generally speaking, the latter is less expensive on a cost per square foot basis for homeowners; though, this obviously doesn't include the indirect costs of transportation and the additional time it to takes to commute places.
It is also more expensive to service and bring infrastructure to more spread-out communities. There are real economies to density. Despite this, higher-density living tends to be more expensive. Part of this has to do with higher build costs and more restrictive zoning, but it could also be a scarcity of supply (most of the US is car-oriented).
Indeed, there is a well-established premium to living in walkable communities, which creates an interesting dynamic. The thing that the majority of people reportedly don't want or don't prefer is actually more expensive. This always makes me wonder: What if this wasn't the case? What would happen if we didn't have this cost-of-living differential?
Charts from Pew Research Center; cover photo by Dmitry Tomashek on Unsplash
The image on the left is Prenzlauer Allee in Berlin. And the image on the right is Finch Avenue West in Toronto. Despite both having light rail running down the middle, one of these streets is walkable, vibrant, and generally urban, and the other is very suburban. What this reminds us is that a wide street isn't necessarily an insurmountable challenge. It's ultimately how we design that street that is the make or break.
Here's another look at Prenzlaurer Allee:
In addition to transit running down the middle of it, it also has a ton of on-street parking. In many cases, the cars are parked perpendicular to the curb. So it's not like this street isn't also accommodating to motorists. The key differentiator is how the buildings are placed. They come right up to the street and are accompanied by a great pedestrian realm (note all the patios below).
This is one of the things that Toronto needs to be focused on following the investments made in public transit on streets like Finch and Eglinton. We don't want generous setbacks on these streets. Make them 0m. Towers in a park kill any chance of street life. We can talk all we want about "active frontages" on our arterial roads, but who wants to sit on a patio on a street like Finch? Nobody.
But as Berlin shows, there's absolutely no reason why we couldn't change that. Thanks for the reminder, Paul.
Cover photo via Google Street View
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