Toronto's Eglinton Line 5 opened last weekend — finally. I have yet to ride it, but I'm really looking forward to doing so the next time my day brings me north of St. Clair or I find the time for a joyride. Notwithstanding the fact that it took a really long time, it's a crucial piece of transit infrastructure for the city.

It's a need that we arguably recognized in the 80s with a proposed busway, and then started and stopped construction on in the 90s with the Eglinton West line. Some four decades later, we now have a 25-station, 19-kilometre rapid transit line that runs across the middle of the city.

Transit consultant Jarrett Walker is calling it the first major transit investment that shows Toronto is moving away from its downtown-oriented network. Historically, Toronto's transit network has emphasized bringing commuters from the suburbs and other lower-density parts of the city to downtown for work. Then, at the end of the day, these people would return home. Simple.

But this kind of network no longer reflects the reality of today's city, which has become and is continuing to become far more polycentric.

Walker's argument is that Toronto needs a transit network to match its grid geography, so that "people can go from anywhere to anywhere in a simple L-shaped trip, usually with a single transfer." Line 5 is an example of this approach and, of course, we need much more of it.

But the other thing that is needed alongside a "grid transit network" is the right land-use approach. One of the fundamental principles that we espouse on this blog is that land-use and transportation planning are interdependent.

In this regard, Toronto is undertaking some important planning work. It has been proposing new Avenues (a defined term that you can read about here) and encouraging more housing along all of its Major Streets (also a defined term).

These efforts remain a work in progress, but at their core, they serve to broadly increase the average density across the city (which is a prerequisite for transit ridership) and to, what I'm going to call, "strengthen the urban grid." It helps move Toronto further away from being a monocentric, downtown-oriented city toward something more akin to a Paris.

What we have is a really interesting moment in time where transportation efforts and land-use policies are starting to coalesce around a new kind of Toronto. One that is decidedly more urban and less car-oriented. This is good. Now, let's do it faster.

Transit map via the TTC

Last September, Dubai announced a new initiative called the Urban Think Tank & Design Lab (officially D.M-ULab). Then, this month, they announced that architects Santiago Calatrava and Kengo Kuma would be joining the think tank as "principal contributors."

The lab is focused on several key areas, but grouping them together, it's broadly focused on encouraging participatory design (as opposed to top-down planning), driving the use of new technologies such as AI, and enhancing quality of life through human-centric urban design.

This includes the creation of 20-minute communities where 80% of daily needs are within walking or riding distance.

This last focus area is particularly interesting because one could easily argue that modern Dubai started on the opposite end of this spectrum. Rather than focusing on the human scale, it was focused on the global-attention-grabbing-superlative scale.

When a remarkable new building is announced, the focus tends to be on the building as a symbolic object, not how it meets the ground and fits into its broader urban context. That's largely irrelevant to a global audience.

But it is this latter quality that will largely determine how human-centric the city ends up feeling — it's the spaces in between the buildings where public life happens.

So, how does this think tank intend to shift the city's focus? One of the first projects is the renewal of the city's older neighbourhoods through the creation of Barcelona-like superblocks that push vehicular traffic to their edges.

It's an admirable move, but it is noteworthy that this implementation is planned for the city's older neighbourhoods. Older neighbourhoods have the advantage of street grids that are already more human-centric in scale.

The true test of this lab will be whether it can transform its newer neighbourhoods. If it succeeds, it will be a model worth exporting to the rest of the world.

Cover photo by Dubai Travel Blog on Unsplash

I'm back in Toronto. And another "fresh pow annual" is in the books.

The BC interior is a specific kind of ski and snowboard trip. It's not about dancing on tables in neon onesies while Champagne gondolas fly overhead. It's about chasing champagne powder with like-minded middle-aged men, all pretending that they don't otherwise live a sedentary, low-range-of-motion lifestyle for the balance of the year.

Both have their merits.

We stayed in four different accommodations for this trip, and one of the things that became very apparent is that everyone is trying to over-optimize around "good service." In each case, I was getting text messages and emails before the stay, during the stay, and after the stay.

"Here's how to prepare before check-in." "Is there anything we can do to make your stay more enjoyable?" "How was your stay?" "Please share your experience with us here." In one case, I even received a phone call from the front desk as soon as I got to my room: "We just wanted to see if everything in your room is to your liking."

On the one hand, this level of communication and responsiveness is fantastic when you do need something. But on the other hand, it can be overwhelming. Blasting everyone with automated text messages and emails does not, in my opinion, stand out as exceptional hospitality, especially since everyone now seems to be doing it.

Outstanding hospitality is emotional, rather than technical.

In city-building news, Bloomberg recently published an article about why cities should embrace "messiness." In it, they cite a book that was assembled by some fellow Torontonians:

This premise — that urban planning’s efforts to impose order risk editing out the culture, character, complexity and creative friction that makes cities cities — is a guiding theme in Messy Cities: Why We Can’t Plan Everything, a collection of essays, including Thorne’s, gathered by Toronto-based editors Zahra Ebrahim, Leslie Woo, Dylan Reid and John Lorinc. In it, they argue that “messiness is an essential element of the city.” Case studies from around the world show how imperfection can be embraced, created and preserved, from the informal street eateries of East Los Angeles to the sports facilities carved out of derelict spaces in Mumbai.

Messiness and allowing for ground-up urban interventions are themes that I have written a lot about on this blog over the years. I think we have gone overboard with rules and regulations, to the point that we stamp out many of the things that make cities so wonderful.

Top-down planning will never get everything right. It's impossible. And the big thing about over-planning is that, in the end, we don't actually know what we're missing out on. We don't know what might have been possible if only we had allowed for it or were more flexible in our approaches.

Messiness is a feature of cities, not a bug. We should be embracing it.