The Guardian recently published an article on vanity height in skyscrapers. What this is referring to is the unoccupied portions of tall buildings which are built purely for vanity reasons – that is, to increase the face height of the building and claim some superlative title.
Example:
The tallest building in the world is currently the Burj Khalifa in Dubai. It’s 828m tall. To put that into perspective, the CN Tower in Toronto is 553m. But according to the Council on Tall Buildings and Urban Habitat, 29% of the Burj Khalifa’s height is actually unoccupied or “vanity space.” In other buildings, such as the Burj al Arab (also in Dubai), the amount of unusable space is as high as 39%.
For the purists out there, this of course raises the question of what should should be counted when assessing building height. Should it only be spaces where humans typically inhabit? The CN Tower has a lot of unoccupied space, which is why it is frequently excluded from these sorts of ego rankings.
But semantics aside, this is obviously not a new phenomenon and it’s interesting to think about this race to the sky as a proxy for what’s going on in the world. Below is a chart showing which regions have been able to lay claim to the “tallest building of the year” since 1900.
Since 1990, it has been all about Asia and Oceania and China and Taiwan…
While the cult of the star architect has soared over the decades and property developers have displaced bankers as the new super-rich, the figure of the local town planner has become comic shorthand for a certain kind of faceless, under-whelming dullard.
But what really stood out for me are the following two things. First, that people are genuinely interested in cities. I would say that it’s almost trendy to be into cities these days.
Urbanism may have displaced cultural theory as the favoured subject of the academic hipster, but talented young men and women rarely consider becoming town planners.
Earlier this week I stumbled upon this entertaining article from the Guardian talking about how expensive housing is in London. The author’s tongue-in-cheek suggestion was to setup a new miniature London in the middle of nowhere where everyone could flock for affordable housing, but where many of London’s attributes could be exported: “We can all refuse to wear socks and sell each other overpriced cocktails in jam jars.”
But affordable housing is not the reason why people want to live in places like London and New York. If it were, they wouldn’t be coming. Instead, they come for lifestyle, wealth creation, and the dating market – among other things. However, at a certain point, usually when they form families and start to need/want more space, they start looking around.
The Guardian recently published an article on vanity height in skyscrapers. What this is referring to is the unoccupied portions of tall buildings which are built purely for vanity reasons – that is, to increase the face height of the building and claim some superlative title.
Example:
The tallest building in the world is currently the Burj Khalifa in Dubai. It’s 828m tall. To put that into perspective, the CN Tower in Toronto is 553m. But according to the Council on Tall Buildings and Urban Habitat, 29% of the Burj Khalifa’s height is actually unoccupied or “vanity space.” In other buildings, such as the Burj al Arab (also in Dubai), the amount of unusable space is as high as 39%.
For the purists out there, this of course raises the question of what should should be counted when assessing building height. Should it only be spaces where humans typically inhabit? The CN Tower has a lot of unoccupied space, which is why it is frequently excluded from these sorts of ego rankings.
But semantics aside, this is obviously not a new phenomenon and it’s interesting to think about this race to the sky as a proxy for what’s going on in the world. Below is a chart showing which regions have been able to lay claim to the “tallest building of the year” since 1900.
Since 1990, it has been all about Asia and Oceania and China and Taiwan…
While the cult of the star architect has soared over the decades and property developers have displaced bankers as the new super-rich, the figure of the local town planner has become comic shorthand for a certain kind of faceless, under-whelming dullard.
But what really stood out for me are the following two things. First, that people are genuinely interested in cities. I would say that it’s almost trendy to be into cities these days.
Urbanism may have displaced cultural theory as the favoured subject of the academic hipster, but talented young men and women rarely consider becoming town planners.
Earlier this week I stumbled upon this entertaining article from the Guardian talking about how expensive housing is in London. The author’s tongue-in-cheek suggestion was to setup a new miniature London in the middle of nowhere where everyone could flock for affordable housing, but where many of London’s attributes could be exported: “We can all refuse to wear socks and sell each other overpriced cocktails in jam jars.”
But affordable housing is not the reason why people want to live in places like London and New York. If it were, they wouldn’t be coming. Instead, they come for lifestyle, wealth creation, and the dating market – among other things. However, at a certain point, usually when they form families and start to need/want more space, they start looking around.
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And second, that we’ve made it difficult for these same interested people to participate in the planning process.
Planners have become simultaneously under-respected and over-professionalised. Their training and practice too often leaves them able to communicate effectively only with other planners and professionals, working in an abstract language that alienates them from people. People are occasionally allowed into the professional planner’s world, but in highly mediated terms dictated by the profession.
This stands out for me because I think that architecture is in a somewhat similar position. I often joke that the more architecture training someone has, the more likely they’re going to like buildings that the rest of the world doesn’t. It all becomes quite insular – just like the Guardian is arguing with respect to planning.
And that may in fact be the reason for the marginalization of both planners and architects (minus the few starchitects that have a distinct brand and can command a premium). If the general public doesn’t like what you do or understand how you create value, why should they care?
I’ve written before about the future of the architecture profession, as well as the reasons for why I decided to never practice architecture. So I won’t repeat it all here.
But I will say that it had nothing to do with me not loving architecture. Because I do and always will. Instead, it was about recognizing that professions are not set in stone. Just like pretty much everything else in this world, they can and will be reinvented.
showing how relationship status impacts where people tend to live in London. The purple areas indicate an “above average concentration” of a particular relationship status. As you can see, single people tend to live in the core of the city, and when they get married, they move out to the periphery. Intuitively, this probably makes sense to you.
However, I’m always curious as to whether this trend happens more because of consumer preference (people don’t want to raise kids downtown) or because of economic necessity (they can’t afford anything beyond a shoe box apartment). Because if it is largely out of economic necessity (and the Guardian article would suggest it is), then we’re not creating the inclusive cities and neighborhoods that all city builders like to talk about.
So how do we get better at this?
In my view, and I’ve argued this before, the first step should be about improving supply. That is: get more housing built. And the way to start doing that is to make land available and improve the approvals process for new developments. In a recent McKinsey report, they referred to my first point as “unlocking land.”
“Land cost often is the single biggest factor in improving the economics of affordable housing development. It is not uncommon for land costs to exceed 40 percent of total property prices, and in some large cities, land can be as much as 80 percent of property cost.”
The reason this is important is because most big cities operate with massive supply deficits. There simply isn’t enough housing. And so if you can address that at a fundamental level, you can actually do a lot to start improving affordability.
And second, that we’ve made it difficult for these same interested people to participate in the planning process.
Planners have become simultaneously under-respected and over-professionalised. Their training and practice too often leaves them able to communicate effectively only with other planners and professionals, working in an abstract language that alienates them from people. People are occasionally allowed into the professional planner’s world, but in highly mediated terms dictated by the profession.
This stands out for me because I think that architecture is in a somewhat similar position. I often joke that the more architecture training someone has, the more likely they’re going to like buildings that the rest of the world doesn’t. It all becomes quite insular – just like the Guardian is arguing with respect to planning.
And that may in fact be the reason for the marginalization of both planners and architects (minus the few starchitects that have a distinct brand and can command a premium). If the general public doesn’t like what you do or understand how you create value, why should they care?
I’ve written before about the future of the architecture profession, as well as the reasons for why I decided to never practice architecture. So I won’t repeat it all here.
But I will say that it had nothing to do with me not loving architecture. Because I do and always will. Instead, it was about recognizing that professions are not set in stone. Just like pretty much everything else in this world, they can and will be reinvented.
showing how relationship status impacts where people tend to live in London. The purple areas indicate an “above average concentration” of a particular relationship status. As you can see, single people tend to live in the core of the city, and when they get married, they move out to the periphery. Intuitively, this probably makes sense to you.
However, I’m always curious as to whether this trend happens more because of consumer preference (people don’t want to raise kids downtown) or because of economic necessity (they can’t afford anything beyond a shoe box apartment). Because if it is largely out of economic necessity (and the Guardian article would suggest it is), then we’re not creating the inclusive cities and neighborhoods that all city builders like to talk about.
So how do we get better at this?
In my view, and I’ve argued this before, the first step should be about improving supply. That is: get more housing built. And the way to start doing that is to make land available and improve the approvals process for new developments. In a recent McKinsey report, they referred to my first point as “unlocking land.”
“Land cost often is the single biggest factor in improving the economics of affordable housing development. It is not uncommon for land costs to exceed 40 percent of total property prices, and in some large cities, land can be as much as 80 percent of property cost.”
The reason this is important is because most big cities operate with massive supply deficits. There simply isn’t enough housing. And so if you can address that at a fundamental level, you can actually do a lot to start improving affordability.
