I'm writing this post from the concourse level of Place Ville Marie Esplanade in Montréal (also known as Galerie PVM) while I wait for my next meeting. Like the PATH in Toronto, the space I'm in is part of an underground network of restaurants, shops, and circulation spaces that runs through downtown Montréal.

But what makes the space I'm in right now particularly noteworthy is that I'm sitting beneath an enormous glass roof supported by 18 glass beams measuring 15 meters long and 0.9 meters tall. So, while I am below grade, I have a clear view of The Ring, Mont-Royal, and the street life happening above me.

Tokyo is a city of contrasts. It is both hyper-modern and steeped in tradition. It is known for art, architecture, design, and fashion, yet it's also a city that — through its built form — makes the argument that architecture is irrelevant.

While the city certainly has countless examples of remarkable architecture, the vast majority of its buildings are arguably just that — buildings. They are a nondescript part of the urban fabric that give back through their siting, scale, rhythm, and mix of uses rather than their raw architectural qualities. Sometimes you may not even be able to see the building past all the signage.

If you were looking for a city to support the argument that urbanism matters more than architecture, I think Tokyo would be a good place to start.

What Tokyo does so successfully is ground-up urbanism (as opposed to top-down master planning). Flexible permissions, mixed-use zones by default, and an orientation around rail have allowed Tokyo to organically evolve into one of the most livable global cities on the planet.

In fact, I think you'd be hard-pressed to find any city of this magnitude that is simultaneously this livable. Which makes me wonder: Are we spending too much time worrying about architecture?

It is common for big cities to have design review processes. These typically consist of a panel of experts who evaluate new development proposals based on their architectural and urban design qualities. The comments that come back might suggest that a long facade be visually "broken up," or that additional stepbacks be introduced in order to mitigate the impact on the street and improve sky views. It's a process that can be lengthy.

But what Tokyo tells us is that, while architecture matters a great deal, it may not be the most important thing to focus on from a city-building standpoint. What matters more is the space and relationship between these buildings, the uses and permissions granted to their occupants, and the overall relationship to transit infrastructure. Here, urbanism is more critical than architecture.

I'm writing this post from the concourse level of Place Ville Marie Esplanade in Montréal (also known as Galerie PVM) while I wait for my next meeting. Like the PATH in Toronto, the space I'm in is part of an underground network of restaurants, shops, and circulation spaces that runs through downtown Montréal.

But what makes the space I'm in right now particularly noteworthy is that I'm sitting beneath an enormous glass roof supported by 18 glass beams measuring 15 meters long and 0.9 meters tall. So, while I am below grade, I have a clear view of The Ring, Mont-Royal, and the street life happening above me.

Tokyo is a city of contrasts. It is both hyper-modern and steeped in tradition. It is known for art, architecture, design, and fashion, yet it's also a city that — through its built form — makes the argument that architecture is irrelevant.

While the city certainly has countless examples of remarkable architecture, the vast majority of its buildings are arguably just that — buildings. They are a nondescript part of the urban fabric that give back through their siting, scale, rhythm, and mix of uses rather than their raw architectural qualities. Sometimes you may not even be able to see the building past all the signage.

If you were looking for a city to support the argument that urbanism matters more than architecture, I think Tokyo would be a good place to start.

What Tokyo does so successfully is ground-up urbanism (as opposed to top-down master planning). Flexible permissions, mixed-use zones by default, and an orientation around rail have allowed Tokyo to organically evolve into one of the most livable global cities on the planet.

In fact, I think you'd be hard-pressed to find any city of this magnitude that is simultaneously this livable. Which makes me wonder: Are we spending too much time worrying about architecture?

It is common for big cities to have design review processes. These typically consist of a panel of experts who evaluate new development proposals based on their architectural and urban design qualities. The comments that come back might suggest that a long facade be visually "broken up," or that additional stepbacks be introduced in order to mitigate the impact on the street and improve sky views. It's a process that can be lengthy.

But what Tokyo tells us is that, while architecture matters a great deal, it may not be the most important thing to focus on from a city-building standpoint. What matters more is the space and relationship between these buildings, the uses and permissions granted to their occupants, and the overall relationship to transit infrastructure. Here, urbanism is more critical than architecture.