I’ve told versions of this story before, but I was reminded of it again today.

When I was in grad school studying both architecture and real estate, I used to walk back and forth across campus and jump between two very different kinds of academic experiences. On the one side of campus, it was taboo to talk about money. And on the other end, the only important thing to talk about was money. (I am exaggerating in both cases, but I think only slightly.)

Given that I was studying and genuinely interested in both, this always felt like a weird false dichotomy. I mean, why not care about, you know, multiple things? But that’s generally not the way it was. Talking about money tainted the purity of design. And talking about things like design and beauty felt out of place and less serious in a room where cap rates were being debated and serious financial models were being honed.

This is not to say that nobody was thinking across disciplines. I was in a joint program, after all. I can also remember attending a lunch & learn where a student asked a seasoned real estate executive what he should study in addition to finance. The response he got was something along the lines of, “the furthest thing from finance. Study something that will give you a different perspective on real estate.”

I remember this really resonating with me — probably because I was searching for breadcrumbs to make me feel like less of an outsider at Wharton. Still, this came across as a unique perspective at the time.

Knowing how money stuff works is absolutely fundamental. (We need to teach more of it in schools to young people.) And as a developer, it all starts with managing risk, executing (i.e. doing what we said we would do), and being an honest steward of other people’s money. Don’t do this, and you likely won’t be a developer for very long.

But then, what else? What unique insights can we bring to the assumptions that feed a finely honed model? Fast forward to today and this is now the basis for how the Globizen team aims to look at real estate opportunities. We want to cover all ends of campus. And that means we are more than okay talking about unserious things like design and beauty.

Next Tuesday, January 19, I am helping to teach the introductory class of a Certificate of Real Estate Development program that is jointly offered by Carleton University's Sprott School of Business and Azrieli School of Architecture & Urbanism. Here is a full list of the instructors and key note speakers that will be participating in the program. Obviously it is all being done online this time around.

One of the great things about this program is that it's a partnership between their school of architecture and their school of business. As you might expect given my background, I am biased in my view that this is a great way to teach real estate development. And it's one of the reasons why I enjoyed my time so much at the University of Pennsylvania. I was free to take classes at whatever "school" I wanted to.

When I later went on to study at the Rotman School, I actually tried to advocate for a better real estate development curriculum and for increased collaboration across the business and architecture schools (both alma maters). The response I got, at least back then, was that Rotman already had a real estate major and that it was fine just the way it was. Cool.

For more information or to register for Carleton's Certificate of Real Estate Development program, click here. I think there are only a few spots remaining.

According to Amazon's recent annual 10-K filing, the company leased and owned (most of their space is leased) about 288,419,000 square feet of space around the world at the end of 2018. Of this number, about 80% is used for "fulfillment, data centers, and other." Amazon doesn't break out this line item any further, but GeekWire reckons that a good 3/4 of their real estate is dedicated to their fulfillment warehouses.

Here's the full summary of their facilities (from the 10-K filing):

Given that fulfillment is such a large share of their properties, I am most interested in understanding the geography of their warehouses and how that impacts their core value proposition, which is largely all about convenience.

In April 2017, Jean-François Houde (of Cornell), Peter Newberry (of Penn State), and Katja Seim (of UPenn) published a paper on this very topic called, "Economies of Density in E-Commerce: A Study of Amazon’s Fulfillment Center Network." There's also this Knowledge@Wharton podcast on the paper if you're looking for a quicker listen or read.

In the early days of online retail, the decision of where to warehouse had meaningful tax implications. Because (in most cases in the US?) you only had to collect sales tax if you had a physical presence in the same location as your purchasers.

As that changed, it then made more sense to create a broader distribution network and minimize the distance between fulfillment center and purchaser. By 2016, Bloomberg estimated that nearly 78 million Americans lived in a zip code where Amazon offered free same-dame delivery. That number has obviously increased since.

And in the paper "Economies of Density", they discovered the following cost savings as a result of Amazon's growing fulfillment network:

We find that Amazon saves between $0.17 and $0.47 for every 100-mile reduction in the distance of shipping goods worth $30. In the context of its distribution network expansion, this estimate implies that Amazon has reduced its total shipping cost by over 50% and increased its profit margin by between 5 and 14% since 2006. Separately, we demonstrate that prices on Amazon have fallen by approximately 40% over the same period, suggesting that a significant share of the cost savings have been passed on to consumers.

The interesting question for real estate people and city builders -- which is brought up in the Knowledge@Wharton podcast but is difficult to answer -- is whether there are diminishing returns to this "economies of density" phenomenon. In other words, how dense does Amazon's fulfillment network want to be?