The Seattle Times has an article up about “widespread single-family zoning” that will feel familiar to many here in Toronto who, I know, are having similar conversations about the amount of land dedicated to low-density housing.

The article, by Mike Rosenberg, estimates that 49% of all developable land in Seattle is dedicated to single-family housing; that 8% is dedicated to multi-family housing; and that another 8% is dedicated to commercial and mixed-use buildings. The rest of the land is institutional, open space, vacant, and so on.

Of all the residential lots in the city, the estimate is that 69% of them are occupied by single-family houses. This is compared to 1% in Manhattan. 

I tried to reverse engineer the 69% based on the land use areas in the article, but the math didn’t quite add up. In any event, the argument here is, of course, that single-family homes are too expensive in Seattle and that the city needs more land available for multi-family housing.

Housing supply is no doubt important, but looking at the above chart, having a low, or lower, percentage of residential land dedicated to single-family housing doesn’t seem to necessarily guarantee affordable housing.

I was searching around trying to find data on long-term real estate prices and I came across a paper by Tom Nicholas and Anna Scherbina called, Real Estate Prices During the Roaring Twenties and the Great Depression.

Here are some stats about Manhattan real estate (from the paper) that you all might find interesting:

- In 1930, Manhattan housed 1.5% of the US population, but had approximately 4% of all US real estate wealth.

- To construct their price indices the authors randomly collected 30 real estate transactions per month in Manhattan between 1920 and 1939. The mean price per square foot in 1929 was $6.91 (year of Black Tuesday). And the mean price per square foot in 1939 – 10 years later – was $2.29.

- Buildings containing a store at grade tended to sell at higher prices. The authors speculate that this could be because a zoning change in 1916 made it difficult to open stores in “residential” areas.

- Buildings with three, four and five storeys tended to sell at a discount. Six storeys or higher and the buildings generally had an elevator, which resulted in higher pricing.

- Manhattan real estate prices reached their highest level in Q3-1929 before falling 67% by 1932. Prices remained more or less flat during the Great Depression.

- If you bought a “typical property” in 1920, it would have retained only 56% of its value (in nominal dollars) by 1939. In fact, it took until 1960 for assessed property values in Manhattan to exceed their pre-Depression pricing.

- An investment in the stock market index during this same time period, 1920-1939, would have outperformed real estate by a factor of 5.2x.

Much of this probably seems hard to believe given the market today. Imagine waiting 40 years for the value of your property to come back.

Photo by jesse orrico on Unsplash

Over the weekend, Marcus Gee of the Globe and Mail published a terrific article about Toronto’s King-Spadina district and how “condos conquered a rundown district of the city.” (This post will argue that condos were not the catalyst, but an outcome of other changes.)

The image at the top of this post (City of Toronto Archives) is the intersection of King Street and Spadina Avenue around the early 1900s. And here is roughly that same view from May 2016 (Google Streetview):

From this perspective, it may look like not much has changed. The buildings at the two corners are still there, although their uses have changed. The streetcars are still running, although we now have slightly newer machines. And there are overhead lines providing a canopy across the intersection.

But as Gee points out, the reality is that in recent years King-Spadina has arguably seen more change and development than any other precinct in the city:

No fewer than 99 projects have been built, approved or pitched since 2004. That’s one quarter of the total for the entire city and more than the count for two vast suburban districts – Scarborough and Etobicoke – combined. King-Spadina is overtaking even high-rise hubs such as Yonge and Eglinton in midtown Toronto and the Bay and Yonge corridors downtown.

Below is a diagram showing the built form of that change.

But as we talk about this massive change, I would argue that this didn’t happen by accident. 

Gee starts his piece by saying that “cities have an endless ability to evolve, to rebound, to reinvent and regenerate themselves, sometimes in ways that would astonish generations past.” I would add one word: Successful cities have an endless ability to evolve.

King-Spadina has indeed reinvented itself many times. Prior to its current iteration, it served as a manufacturing district and as the center of Toronto’s garment industry. But from the 1970s through to the early 1990s, the area fell into decline as its manufacturing base left.

The game changing moment happened in 1996 when “The Kings” – which includes the areas around both King-Spadina and King-Parliament – were redesignated as “Regeneration Areas.” The overarching goal was to deregulate away from single-use industrial zoning and allow the area’s buildings, both old and new, to take on almost any use.

Now all of a sudden it was possible to have light industrial, commercial, entertainment, retail, residential, and live/work uses all mixed together. And with the bones already in place, the market responded. 

In my view, it is these earlier changes that laid the groundwork for what has become one of the most exciting neighborhoods in the country.

However, today some are worried about whether or not this is too much of a good thing. And I am sure that many would like to blame developers for piling up in this neighborhood. Why continue to build here when there’s lots of land elsewhere?

King-Spadina is a perfect example of what Richard Florida would call “winner-take-all urbanism.” There are powerful clustering forces at play both globally and locally in our cities. And so there are real economic reasons for why King-Spadina has seen more development than Etobicoke and Scarborough combined.

Permissive land use policies and the right building stock may have kickstarted things, but now economies of agglomeration have taken over. Retailers, restaurants, clubs, tech companies and people, among many others, are now fighting for space in this area for the same reason that Toronto’s garment industry once felt the need to cluster here. There are tangible benefits to doing so.

What people are effectively asking today is at what point do we start to see diseconomies of agglomeration. This is an important question and one that needs to be actively managed. 

Without getting into any of the details, I believe that the King Street Pilot Study – which puts transit first along the King corridor – is one very appropriate answer to this question. It is a direct response to diseconomies of agglomeration, in this case traffic congestion.

But there are important corollaries to this question that are also worth considering: How do we now create more King-Spadinas and how do we create more broad-based and inclusive urbanism in the face of these powerful clustering forces? These are questions that go well beyond King-Spadina, but there are lessons to be learned from the successes seen on the west side of downtown Toronto.

Images via The Globe and Mail and Google Street View