One of the benefits of older cities and neighbourhoods is that their scale and rhythm of development often allow for walkability and a wide variety of experiences in a short period of time (here's a related post). The typical characteristics include small lot sizes, diverse ownership, short city blocks, a mix of uses, and visual variety. And in planning speak, this is typically referred to as fine-grained urbanism.
Here's a random block example from Toronto that I'm choosing simply because I had a wonderful sourdough sandwich on this street over the weekend:
The longest lots in the middle of this block are over 45 metres deep and under 5 metres wide. The result is some very long and narrow buildings, but at the same time, a lot of storefront variety when you're walking along Dupont Street. It has the bones for a great retail street. The only problem is that, for the most part, we don't build our cities like this anymore. We do the opposite. We build bigger, which is conversely referred to as coarse-grained urbanism.
But since we know that fine-grained urbanism makes for better street experiences, it is common to try to impose it on new developments. Cities will say, "Hey, I know that you have a big, wide, shallow retail space on the ground floor of your building, but can you chop it up into smaller, fine-grained spaces such that they all become totally unleasable?" (I half kid. See here for some context.)
The result:
To be clear, I am in no way picking on this development. As a rule, I don't do that sort of thing on this blog. Development is hard. I also like it. I just think it's perhaps the clearest example of what all urban-minded planners and developers are trying in earnest to do, and that is to create coarse-grained urbanism masquerading as fine-grained urbanism. The architectural rhythm of the storefronts matches the existing context, but the scale of the retailers may not.
And that's okay. This is the reality of the world today, and modern retailers want what they want. I'm also a believer in the power of free markets. But to this same end, I want to point out something that is exceedingly obvious: the best way to create fine-grained urbanism is to simply encourage small-scale development!
Every hurdle we erect only increases the incentive for developers to build bigger and coarser. It becomes the only way to underwrite profitable projects. The solution is to lower the barriers to development and, in turn, make small more feasible. Because if we do that, we already know it'll make our cities better. I think we'll also find that the market will respond with a different category of tenants and entrepreneurs.
Tomorrow, we'll talk about the specific ways in which Toronto and other cities could execute on this better.
Entrepreneurship is a critical component of city-building. You want people taking risks, starting new companies, and creating jobs to grow the overall economy. And to accomplish this, you roughly need a bunch of smart people, access to money, and a culture that accepts failure and risk-taking. Then, maybe, you might get some successful startups.
The key word, however, is maybe.
Here's an interesting essay by Jerry Neumann — a retired venture investor — called "We Have Learned Nothing." In it, he argues that there is no science of entrepreneurship:
Of course, no science of entrepreneurship can be a science in the sense most people think of the term. There are no fixed and universal recipes, no ultimate truth. This may be unsatisfying to the aspiring founder, but any science that guaranteed success would bring us right back to the perpetual money machine. The best we can hope for is a science that makes startups meaningfully more likely to succeed and that is honest about the limits of its own prescriptions. And then, when those prescriptions harden into orthodoxy, we try something different. A true science of entrepreneurship embraces the Red Queen dynamic so completely that it rejects any attempt to permanently systematize it.
The "Red Queen hypothesis" is an evolutionary biology concept that states that one has to constantly adapt and evolve just to survive and maintain a position, never mind make any progress. It follows that as soon as you stop innovating as a company, you don't just stay where you are; you fall behind. And that's because the entire landscape is constantly shifting around you. Neumann argues that this is a better mental model for startups and that it's a fool's errand to try to permanently codify what it takes to create a successful one.
I'm going to take this even further and say that the same is true for cities. It's not enough to just follow "best practices" and copy what has been successful in other places. There is no set formula for urban leadership. Cities are rewarded most for being different, and for doing that different thing first. This is particularly true in a world of increasing global sameness. Creating a replica of the London Eye or New York's High Line will not magically turn you into a comparable global city. It is a recipe for mediocrity.
Cover photo by Laine Cooper on Unsplash
Within a week, Paris will know, with near certainty, who its next mayor will be. (The first round of results will be announced this evening.) The two frontrunners are Emmanuel Grégoire (on the left) and Rachida Dati (on the right). Grégoire is the status quo vote, and Dati is the "I want change" vote.
From a city-building standpoint, one of the ways that this is being presented is as a battle between bikes and cars. Not surprisingly, the current mobility approach has been criticized for creating a divide between wealthier residents in transit-rich central Paris (where only about a quarter of households own a car) and residents in the more car-oriented suburbs.
Because after 12 years under Mayor Anne Hidalgo it's pretty clear that "the bike beat the car in Paris." From 2002 to 2023, car traffic fell by more than half, dedicated cycle lanes expanded sixfold, and today, bike trips outnumber car trips by more than 2 to 1 in the city.
As an outsider to the city, I can only read about what's going on, but what I find interesting is that this particular mobility issue doesn't appear to be as political as the headlines might suggest.
Dati has softened her initial criticism of popular cycle lanes and instead focused on concerns over dirty streets.
“We’re not fighting an ideological battle on [transportation] issues,” Dati told news agency Reuters while greeting shoppers in northern Paris. “We just want things to be organised.”
And:
She [Dati] has promised not to reverse the left’s flagship policy of transforming a once traffic-clogged dual carriageway into a car-free pedestrian walkway along the banks of the Seine, but will renovate those pedestrian spaces.
Correct me if I'm wrong, but what this tells me is that Parisians actually like the city's transition away from the car. I'm reminded of last summer in Paris when I was in an Uber and the driver surprised me by saying that these mobility changes needed to be done — bikes are a more efficient form of urban transport and they have greatly reduced pollution within the city.
General public sentiment also seems to reflect my anecdotal evidence. A recent Keolis-IFOP survey found that more than one in two French people (~56%) would like to see cars play a smaller role in the cities of tomorrow. Importantly, this response also seems to transcend geography and socio-economic divides. The same sentiment is found in Paris and in rural areas.
This month's mayoral election will certainly tell us something about Parisian preferences for the status quo versus change. But I'm always encouraged when issues can become less about ideology and more about whether we are accomplishing productive objectives based on, you know, facts and information.
Cover photo by Irina Nakonechnaya on Unsplash