There's a conventional school of thought that the best place to raise a kid is in the suburbs. Walkable, urban centers are great for young singles, but when it comes time to grow your family, the default assumption is that it's time to move on. Anecdotally, I can tell you that, now that we're expecting, some people assume we're obviously going to move from our condominium in the city to a low-rise house somewhere else.
But this viewpoint also shows up in the data. According to a recent article from The Economist, between 2010 and 2024, the total population aged under 18 declined by 22% in Chicago, by 23% in Los Angeles, and by 12% in New York. These figures are the sort of thing that lead some people to conclude that the suburbs are simply a natural market outcome. It's what families want, right?
However, it turns out this isn't universally true! The same dataset also reveals a clear exception: rich white families. Over the same time period, the number of white children grew by 6% in Chicago, by 13% in Brooklyn, and by a staggering 62% in Washington, DC. In certain inner-city neighbourhoods in Chicago, namely Wicker Park, the number of white children has increased by 39% and 94% (based on the two zip codes that make up the area).
Here's what's going on:
Families are mostly not moving in; rather people are moving to suburbs less once they become parents. Eric Johnson, a software engineer who grew up in Elgin, an outer suburb of Chicago, now has a ten-month-old baby in hipstery Logan Square. “We love the farmers market…I like not having to drive,” he says. Sara Weston-Shea, a social worker, grew up in suburban New Jersey and now has two children in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. “We can just easily access the wonderful resources that a city has, the arts, music, whenever,” she says. She likes that her kids are growing up in a multicultural neighbourhood, and that she can cart them around on a cargo bike.
What this tells us is that, no, the suburbs aren't necessarily a de facto market outcome for everyone. There are families who have the means to live wherever they want, and they are choosing walkable, transit-oriented urban communities. These are crucial data points because if rich white families are making this decision, how many others would do the same if only they had the means or, more importantly, if we were able to deliver more housing within their means?
This is a core city-building thesis of mine. There are families who move to the suburbs because that's what they prefer, and that's totally cool. But there's also a segment of the market that moves because they have no other choice. How big this segment actually is can only be accurately determined by figuring out how to meet that demand. And that's why addressing this need is one of the great opportunities and challenges facing large cities today.
Cover photo by Brad Knight on Unsplash
I saw Paul Graham write this week that "Cities inhale and exhale each generation. People move to cities in their 20s in search of colleagues and mates, move back out to raise their kids, and then when their kids are in their 20s, they return."
I don't like it being presented in such a single-minded way, but there is, of course, a lot of truth to this remark, particularly for North American cities. It's basically the "dumbbell" housing demand profile that we in the industry often talk about.
Whether you believe this is an innate housing preference, a deeply-rooted cultural bias, a fundamental truth about the optimal way to raise children, or the result of poor land-use decisions, it is a common housing outcome and, in some cities, the de facto housing outcome. But again, it is not universally the case.
This is a semi-regular topic on this blog, but I've been thinking about it more now that Bianca and I are about to graduate to being urban parents. In fact, now that it has become known, we've started getting some questions: "So, do you think you will move to a house?" (We live in an apartment condominium.) And sometimes it's not even a question; it's a flat-out assumption: "Once you move to a house..."
I wasn't aware that this was a prerequisite. Little do they know that I spend my free time fantasizing about apartment renovations in Paris, Tokyo, and Rio de Janeiro.
I'm sure that our thinking will evolve over time, but to a meaningful extent, I would classify us as being typologically agnostic, and instead resolute on a particular kind of urban context. What matters most to us is that we remain in a city where we can walk or bike to things, where a car is not an absolute necessity, and where exciting and cultured things take place from time to time.
I'm not sure what definition of "city" Paul had in mind when he was talking about people leaving it. Did he mean downtowns? Are the inner suburbs within a city an acceptable geography? I don't know, but I can confidently say that leaving the city is the last thing on our minds right now.
Maybe that will change. Or maybe it won't.
The fact that we still refer to things as pre- and post-COVID shows just how impactful this period of time was in our lives. What initially seemed like house arrest for only a few weeks ended up having a lasting impact. One of those impacts appears to be happiness. In a recent post by Aziz Sunderji, who is the author of Home Economics (you should subscribe), he shared this chart:
The data is taken from the General Social Survey. What it shows is the shift in the "very happy" group of Americans, and the ten demographic groups that experienced the biggest declines in reported happiness. Overall, the share of Americans reporting to be "very happy" has dropped from 29% before COVID (2016-18) to 22% in our post-COVID world (2022-24).
The biggest decline is among those who make the most money and were previously quite happy. Top earners went from 49% reporting they were "very happy" to 30%. On the other end of the spectrum, the unhappiest people moved the least. If you were unhappy before, chances are you have a similar level of unhappiness today. All of this is problematic.
This is an important societal problem to solve, and I'm not going to come close to doing that in today's pithy blog post. But I did want to point out two things (the latter of which is the key takeaway in Aziz's post).
First, I think it's important to note that at the top of this chart are those with "excellent health." The older I get, the more I have come to realize that the greatest luxury in life is our health. If you don't have your health, nothing else matters. This probably seems obvious, but it remains a real challenge in our increasingly sedentary world.
Second, Aziz notes that the groups that held up the best in terms of happiness all shared one trait: social connection. Interacting with other humans and your friends is good for your mental health!
Of course, the problem is that we are designing our cities and our economies in the opposite direction. Call it "sedentary isolation." AI is a powerful multiplier that allows us to do and produce more while we sit at our desks. And autonomous vehicles are in the process of making long, painful commutes more enjoyable. Now you have more time to sit and stare at a screen while a car drives you!
This is not to say that I'm against these new technologies. I'm not. But driving or not, I don't want to sit in an AV for hours each day. There are real individual and collective costs to social isolation and car-dependent land-use patterns. Let's not forget the simple merits of living in a walkable neighbourhood and socializing with friends, in person.
Cover photo by Ryan Searle on Unsplash
Chart from Aziz Sunderji, "The Great Happiness Compression," Home Economics.