

I tweeted the above photo on Saturday morning with the following text: "No sidewalks. Towers in the distance. Welcome to the inner suburbs of Toronto." What I, of course, wanted to highlight is the contrast between the rural-like street with no sidewalks in the foreground, and the high-density towers built on top of Kipling subway station in the background. It is a perfect example of the kind of Toronto we are building, by design, all across the city. And it also exemplifies one of our great philosophical divides.
If you look at the responses on Twitter, you'll see that there are a few opinions. Generally speaking, though, there are probably two main ways to think about this scene. One way is to look at the transit-oriented housing and think of it as urban progress. We are adding new housing and we are doing it in a way that hopefully results in more walkable communities. With this in mind, you might now see the three humans on the street (one of which is in a stroller) and think it's a shame that they have been forced to walk on the road.
The other main way to look at this is that not having sidewalks is actually a feature and not a bug (indeed, a lack of sidewalks can be a pretty good indicator for rich people/wealthy households). From this lens, not having sidewalks means uninterrupted driveways (more parking), less through foot traffic, and a more quaint small-town feel. Also with this lens might be a view that the rural-like street was there first, before the transit-oriented towers. And it was doing just fine before people like me drove through their neighborhood and pointed out the lack of sidewalks.
How do you see this scene?
According to this recent report by Smart Growth America, which looked at "walkable urbanism" in the largest 35 metro areas in the US, only about 1.2% of land is, on average, built out in this way. Everything else needs to be driven.
But here's the thing. Humans seem to really enjoy walkable urbanism, and will usually pay more for it:
City dwellers will pay to live in a walkable location. Real estate in these areas averages a 34% price premium per square foot in for-sale housing and 41% for multifamily rental apartments.
It also, by definition, punches above its weight:
Walkable neighborhoods in just those 35 metro areas account for 19.1% of the total US real GDP and 6.8% of the total US population, by the researchers’ calculations.
That's how density works. You get to do more, with less.
At the same time, not every place should be Midtown Manhattan (which the report labels as the highest walkable urban place with a floor area ratio of 40). There are a wide range of densities that will work, including modest ones (FARs between 1-3).
Here in Toronto, many of our single-family home neighborhoods have densities that are zoned for a maximum FAR of 0.6, which is quite restrictive if you're hoping to build something like a multi-unit building.
This is, of course, the point. But imagine what all could be done here with even an incremental change.

This data is from 2019, but I imagine that things would look pretty similar today and that it might even be a little more pronounced. The dataset from the above article looked at how many people have cars in a given area (a darker dot = fewer cars) and then plotted this against population density and income per capita.
Here's what that looks like for the regions of New York, Boston, Los Angeles, and Houston (data from 2013 to 2017):

What is fascinating about these charts is that they show two different correlations. In dense and transit-rich cities such as New York and Boston, car usage is most closely linked with population density and not with income. The dark dots form a horizontal line near the top.
However, in the case of Los Angeles and Houston, car usage is instead most closely linked with income and not with population density. The dark dots form a vertical line near the left -- the lowest income per capita.
So what does this tell us?
It tells us that if you design a city to broadly require a car, then you are likely to sort people based on those that can afford a lot of car and those that cannot. On the other hand, if you design a city around transit, then you are likely to instead create a place where both the rich and poor get around in similar ways.
There is also evidence that the latter is being increasingly viewed as more desirable. 2017 was the first year in the US where high-income young people (ages 26 to 33) drove less than low-income young people. Presumably these high-income people had choices, and so I tend to view this as a preference.
As a whole, this is surely a good thing for our cities. But now I think we need to be careful not to allow density and walkability to become the new luxury that only the rich can afford.
