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.

Engaging in physical activity is unequivocally associated with improved health outcomes. But are certain physical activities better than others? And what might the implications be for how we design our cities?

Here is a brand new study that examined the relationship between specific types of physical activity and the risk of death, using two large cohort studies with more than 30 years of self-reported data.

The study included information on walking, jogging, running, cycling (including stationary machines), lap swimming, tennis, climbing flights of stairs, rowing, and weight training.

It's important to note that this is an observational study using self-reported data. There are limitations to this. One question mark is around intensity. When someone reports swimming for an hour, it could be vigorous or casual. And the researchers note that long, low-intensity physical activities could bias the observed associations toward the null.

With this caveat out of the way, here's what they found:

Their two key findings were that (1) most physical activities lower mortality rates in a non-linear way when you do more of them, and (2) mixing different physical activities is associated with lower mortality, independent of total activity levels. Variety is good.

Interestingly enough, the most effective activity at lowering overall mortality is the simplest one: walking. It was found to reduce all-cause mortality by about 17%. This is the difference, or maximum observed benefit, between the highest walking group and a sedentary baseline.

Once again, the data clearly shows that walkable cities can help produce meaningfully better health outcomes. So, if, like me, you subscribe to the philosophy that there's no greater luxury in life than our health, well, then there's perhaps no greater luxury than living in a walkable city.

Cover photo by Alain ROUILLER on Unsplash

Cities used to be adept at creating fine-grained, walkable, mixed-use streets. In fact, if you look at old photos, you'll see it was the norm. But that has become increasingly difficult for a variety of reasons, ranging from parking and servicing requirements to overall suburbanization and chain retailers demanding certain spaces. Today, in many parts of the world, these kinds of streets are by far the exception rather than the rule.

What hasn't changed, however, is our appreciation for human-scaled spaces. This raises the question: How can we create more of them going forward? How might we make more Ossington Avenues? This is especially relevant as many cities look to intensify their existing neighborhoods. More housing is essential, but there are also broader city-building opportunities that can come along with it.

The first thing to keep in mind is that developers will always have a bias toward what is most profitable and what has the least amount of risk. So if a residential apartment at grade is going to be more profitable than a cute coffee shop, developers will build the apartment. But markets and areas do change, and sometimes what didn't make sense before makes sense today.

Let's, for example, return to our discussion of Ossington Avenue. At the intersection of Ossington and Halton, there is a stacked townhouse development that was built just prior to Ossington becoming the cool-ass street that it is today. One of the ways you can tell its vintage, I think, is that it has no retail fronting onto Ossington. Instead, it has townhouse balconies that are likely to remain there until the end of time. If it were built today, I bet you that the developer would have built ground-floor retail.

But you can't really blame the developer. At the time, it likely didn't make economic sense to build retail. Few could have predicted Ossington would become what it is today. And it is this messiness and unpredictability that makes cities so great. But it's also what makes top-down planning difficult. Nobody can predict the future, and nobody knows exactly what the market will want.

As far as I know, a bunch of people didn't sit down in a boardroom and outline how they were going to transform Ossington through top-down planning. It was local change agents who started doing things. And once they had found what the market wanted, it was the people in boardrooms who reacted with, "This is too successful; we better put in place a moratorium on bars and restaurants."

What made Ossington successful was that it had the right "bones" and the ability to be transformed. It allowed for bottom-up change. And if there's one thing to take away from this post, it's that. If we want a chance at creating more Ossingtons, we should be focused on (1) creating the right preconditions in new developments and in our land-use policies, and then (2) getting out of the way through fewer rules and more flexibility.

A good land-use model to consider is that of Japan. By default, most zones are mixed-use and most low-rise residential zones allow "small shops and offices." Because, why not? Of course, not every street can be an Ossington, and not every street can support fine-grained retail. But we won't know exactly what's possible unless we allow our street frontages to evolve along with our cities.

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.

Engaging in physical activity is unequivocally associated with improved health outcomes. But are certain physical activities better than others? And what might the implications be for how we design our cities?

Here is a brand new study that examined the relationship between specific types of physical activity and the risk of death, using two large cohort studies with more than 30 years of self-reported data.

The study included information on walking, jogging, running, cycling (including stationary machines), lap swimming, tennis, climbing flights of stairs, rowing, and weight training.

It's important to note that this is an observational study using self-reported data. There are limitations to this. One question mark is around intensity. When someone reports swimming for an hour, it could be vigorous or casual. And the researchers note that long, low-intensity physical activities could bias the observed associations toward the null.

With this caveat out of the way, here's what they found:

Their two key findings were that (1) most physical activities lower mortality rates in a non-linear way when you do more of them, and (2) mixing different physical activities is associated with lower mortality, independent of total activity levels. Variety is good.

Interestingly enough, the most effective activity at lowering overall mortality is the simplest one: walking. It was found to reduce all-cause mortality by about 17%. This is the difference, or maximum observed benefit, between the highest walking group and a sedentary baseline.

Once again, the data clearly shows that walkable cities can help produce meaningfully better health outcomes. So, if, like me, you subscribe to the philosophy that there's no greater luxury in life than our health, well, then there's perhaps no greater luxury than living in a walkable city.

Cover photo by Alain ROUILLER on Unsplash

Cities used to be adept at creating fine-grained, walkable, mixed-use streets. In fact, if you look at old photos, you'll see it was the norm. But that has become increasingly difficult for a variety of reasons, ranging from parking and servicing requirements to overall suburbanization and chain retailers demanding certain spaces. Today, in many parts of the world, these kinds of streets are by far the exception rather than the rule.

What hasn't changed, however, is our appreciation for human-scaled spaces. This raises the question: How can we create more of them going forward? How might we make more Ossington Avenues? This is especially relevant as many cities look to intensify their existing neighborhoods. More housing is essential, but there are also broader city-building opportunities that can come along with it.

The first thing to keep in mind is that developers will always have a bias toward what is most profitable and what has the least amount of risk. So if a residential apartment at grade is going to be more profitable than a cute coffee shop, developers will build the apartment. But markets and areas do change, and sometimes what didn't make sense before makes sense today.

Let's, for example, return to our discussion of Ossington Avenue. At the intersection of Ossington and Halton, there is a stacked townhouse development that was built just prior to Ossington becoming the cool-ass street that it is today. One of the ways you can tell its vintage, I think, is that it has no retail fronting onto Ossington. Instead, it has townhouse balconies that are likely to remain there until the end of time. If it were built today, I bet you that the developer would have built ground-floor retail.

But you can't really blame the developer. At the time, it likely didn't make economic sense to build retail. Few could have predicted Ossington would become what it is today. And it is this messiness and unpredictability that makes cities so great. But it's also what makes top-down planning difficult. Nobody can predict the future, and nobody knows exactly what the market will want.

As far as I know, a bunch of people didn't sit down in a boardroom and outline how they were going to transform Ossington through top-down planning. It was local change agents who started doing things. And once they had found what the market wanted, it was the people in boardrooms who reacted with, "This is too successful; we better put in place a moratorium on bars and restaurants."

What made Ossington successful was that it had the right "bones" and the ability to be transformed. It allowed for bottom-up change. And if there's one thing to take away from this post, it's that. If we want a chance at creating more Ossingtons, we should be focused on (1) creating the right preconditions in new developments and in our land-use policies, and then (2) getting out of the way through fewer rules and more flexibility.

A good land-use model to consider is that of Japan. By default, most zones are mixed-use and most low-rise residential zones allow "small shops and offices." Because, why not? Of course, not every street can be an Ossington, and not every street can support fine-grained retail. But we won't know exactly what's possible unless we allow our street frontages to evolve along with our cities.