Daily insights for city builders, delivered every morning at 6 AM ET. I’m Brandon Donnelly — a Toronto-based real estate developer and founder of Globizen. I’ve been writing here since 2013.
In 2019, Seattle made it easier to build accessory dwelling units (ADUs). Among other things, they started allowing two ADUs per lot, they stopped requiring the owner to live on site, and they stopped requiring off-street parking. The result is that the city is now permitting close to 1,000 ADUs per year (2022 figure). And for the first time ever, this figure now exceeds the number of permits issued for single-family houses.
Part of what’s driving this adoption is that the City created 10 pre-approved plans that owners/builders can choose from. And since they were launched in September 2020, these plans have been permitted 130 times. (Los Angeles did something very similar with its “standard plan program.”)
In general though, Seattle’s policies seem more permissive than what we have here in Toronto. According to this recent “annual report”, it is estimated that about 12% of ADUs in Seattle are licensed as short-term rentals. About a third are also being permitted as condominiums. In Toronto, any sort of severance is heavily discouraged. The objective was and is to create new rental housing.
But for Seattle, this seems to be creating more affordable homes for sale. The median selling price for an ADU is apparently $732,000, compared to $1.2 million for a single-family house. This sounds kind of good.
Michael Beach used to have a YouTube channel where he “looked at Google Maps a lot.” Meaning, he would pan around various cities and comment on their planning and overall built form. Technically the channel still exists, but he stopped making new videos a few years ago. Here is one where he talks about Dubai being “an absolute mess” (3.8 million views) and here is one where he looks at North York (in Toronto) and asks: “why is it here?”
The most important point from his North York video is that it illustrates the deep divide that exists in Toronto (and other North American cities) between single-family “Neighbourhoods” (a defined planning term) and higher-density transit nodes, where things like tall buildings are allowed to go.
In the case of North York, this contrast is perhaps at its most stark. Even the street network is designed to stop these two urban forms from commingling with each other too much. There are ring roads that surround the transit-oriented density, and separate, more suburban streets on the other side of it:
This contrast is why there are so many people talking about the “missing middle.” And I’m sure that if you started asking random people on the street, most would agree that it would be nice if we could build more moderately-scaled housing. You know, like those buildings you see in Paris.
The problem: Where should it go? Some people would probably suggest the left side of the above ring road. Just don’t build as tall, okay? But this kind of land is already a scarce commodity in a city like Toronto. We need these tall buildings because most of the city is codified to look like the right side of the above ring road.
So if we have any chance of actually finding the missing middle, it is going to need to happen here, on the right side. Some progress has been made, not just in Toronto but across North America, with accessory dwellings (laneway suites). But it’s not going to be enough.
This was simply a first step. It was us finding a solution to, “how can we add some more housing here without changing the look and feel and character of these residential streets in any way?” But even this small and incremental change has proven to be exceedingly controversial. People still react to new laneway suites like this:
If you’re a homeowner that decides to create a new rental home at the rear of your property, you might be viewed as greedy. You are creating something (a home) that someone needs, and you intend to make a small margin on the transaction. It’s like making and selling bread for a small margin, except that selling delicious bread to people is typically viewed in a positive light. On the other hand, ensuring that the value of your house remains as high as possible is generally good practice here. Greed doesn’t factor in this way because, you know, single-family homes.
There is no surprise why the missing middle is missing. It is missing because we have decided that we want it to be. But hey, $2,145 per month seems like a very reasonable price for a 2-bedroom house.
We talk a lot on this blog about laneway housing and ADUs, including, of course, the one that Globizen built earlier this year. But beyond being exceedingly cool (see above), what has this policy change meant at the macro level? To what extent is it actually helping housing supply? Let’s consider Toronto.
As a reminder, “laneway suites” became permissible in the former/old City of Toronto in 2018. The policies where then expanded to the entire city of Toronto in the summer of 2019. So we’ve had just over 2 years of this housing type being fully allowed city-wide.
Though it’s worth keeping in mind that there are only so many laneways in Toronto (which is why “garden suites” are going to be important and may actually end up being more impactful):
Between the introduction of laneway suites and June 2021, the City of Toronto received 306 permit applications to construct, of which 238 were associated with a unique address (the same address can have multiple permit applications).
During this same time period, 183 permits were issued. 107 were still under review at the time this report was written. 15 were refused. And 1 was classified as “unknown”, which I guess means it got lost in the ether or under someone’s desk.
Some of you will probably argue that this isn’t enough new housing for a city of 3 million people with high home prices, high demand, and high immigration. And I would agree.
But it’s still early days, there will be an adoption curve, and the policies are still being tweaked to further remove some of the barriers associated with delivering this housing type. Of the 238 unique addresses that submitted a permit application, just over a quarter of them had an associated minor variance application, which means that they did not fully conform to the current laneway suite by-law.
The most common obstacles appear to be the 1.5m laneway setback, the soft landscaping requirements, and the required fire access. But I know that there are others too. I could have used another foot or two in height on mine.
But as I mentioned before, there are more areas in this city without laneways than with. And so garden suites are going to be an integral component of city-wide ADUs. This will certainly help the adoption curve.
I continue to believe that these are all steps in the right direction and that this is an exciting time for Toronto. We are in the midst of transforming our laneways. But we’re not done yet. We’re going to have to make many other tough decisions in order to further increase housing supply. I’m positive we’ll get there.
Daniel Foch, Daniel Clark, and Adam Darvay recently stopped by Mackay Laneway House to film a last-minute video tour before the new tenants move in. They had quite the rig setup (see above). There was also a drone flying around that is not pictured here. The full house tour should be available in about two weeks and I’ll be sure to share here on the blog.
One of the things we talked about during the tour was the future of laneway housing in Toronto. Will we see strong adoption going forward and, if yes, what does that mean for Toronto’s laneways? I think we will continue to see a steady increase in the number of laneway suites that get built in Toronto each year. And so eventually this form of living will become a ubiquitous part of the urban landscape. It’s happening fast.
Now consider what this could mean for Toronto’s laneways. As garages and parking spaces get slowly replaced by new housing, it will mean that our laneways could at some point flip from being vehicle first to pedestrian first. Mackay Laneway House does not have any vehicular parking. The front door is off the laneway. You enter on foot. That’s how you experience the lane. And Gabriel and I thought it should be celebrated.
If or when this tipping point occurs, it will trigger a perception change. Slowly but surely we will start to think of our lanes not as back of house, but as front of house. And when that happens, it’ll almost certainly force us to rethink how we design them. Forget utilitarian. Our laneways have the potential to become some of the most pedestrian-friendly streets in the city, especially with a few streetscape and landscape improvements.
Pushing this idea even further, could you imagine a world where our laneways not only become more front of house, but where the laneway side becomes the more desirable side of the property? If we gave people the option, how many would prefer to build their main house on what is today considered to be the backside? (Remember how things once flipped in Paris?)
But for the fact that we have an entrenched built form that could make this “inversion” challenging, I think there are people who would prefer to have their front door on the quieter and more pedestrian-friendly side of their property. Either way, I continue to believe that we are in the early stages of an ADU/laneway housing revolution. And things are just getting started.
This recent article by Bloomberg CityLab, about “how California set off a backyard apartment boom,” has some interesting stats about the extent in which accessory dwelling units (ADUs) are quickly being adopted and delivered across the state.
For one, a majority (87%) of jurisdictions have enacted at least one ordinance related to ADUs, though many have several. These policies might include everything from by-right zoning to some form of financial assistance if you build. Here is a graph showing the cities and counties that have created ADU ordinances since 2013:
All of this has translated into housing supply. In 2019, California homeowners brought over 12,000 accessory dwelling units to the market (based on permits issued). Though a relatively small quantity based on the state’s overall housing deficit, this number is surely growing thanks to policies and programs, like this one here, that are working to remove the barriers to building.
The city of Los Angeles has taken an interesting approach to accessory dwelling units (what we generally call laneway or garden suites here in Toronto). In an effort to streamline the approvals process and bolster the supply of housing in the city, they’ve gone out and pre-approved a series of “standard plans” that you can quickly implement on your property. The idea here is that all of their approved plans have already been checked for compliance with the various building codes. So those reviews don’t need to happen before a permit can be issued (though the building department would still need to review any site-specific conditions).
What that means is that if you’re in the market for, say, a one-storey, one-bedroom ADU at around 450 sf, you can simply scroll through their list and find the one you like the most. Here is one that fits this criteria by Design, Bitches (I just wanted to mention this firm name). The potential downside of this approach is that it could encourage less architectural experimentation. On the flipside, many of their approved designs are really nice and so maybe it’s a boon for those who are lacking in good taste. Either way, if you want to encourage more of something, the way to do that is to reduce friction.
To start to give you a sense of how meaningful this could become, the city of Los Angeles received 1,980 applications for ADU construction back in 2017. This is the year in which the state changed its regulations so that ADUs were no longer prohibited in some municipalities (I don’t know all of the specifics truthfully). Last year, LA saw 5,374 applications and I suspect the number will be even higher this year. Should other cities look at pre-approving certain designs? And could this be an approach used for even larger building typologies? Speed is good.
Within Toronto’s urban structure you have regular streets and you have things known as “Avenues.” (This is among a bunch of other stuff such as Centres and Employment Areas.) What this Avenue designation does is tell you that it may be a suitable location for a new mid-rise building, which is something that I have written a lot about on this blog. Here in Toronto, this means that you would then need to consult the “Mid-Rise Building Performance Standards.” Indeed, if you dust off these standards and turn to the introduction, you’ll find the following: “The Performance Standards are intended to provide simple, straightforward guidance for those seeking to develop midrise projects on the Avenues.”
But if you want to find some of the most truly unremarkable streets in this city, you need to look at the arterial roads that didn’t quite make the cut to be an Avenue. I don’t want to generalize, but they are generally exceedingly ugly. You can’t help but feel like Toronto has simply outgrown the low-rise building typologies that, in most cases, still remain on these streets. In some cases, they’re also directly adjacent to a subway station, which is kind of like running a great big movie theater with only a handful of seats inside. Maybe one day they’ll grow up to be Avenues. But don’t hold your breath. So what’s another possible solution? Toronto-based PHAEDRUS Studio has an idea. It’s called the Hi-Lo Hybrid.
Initially designed for a specific client and a specific site, it also happens to be something that could be deployed all across the city. What they have shown here is a 5 storey infill building on your typical long and narrow Toronto lot. As designed, it could house 4-8 units, as well as some non-residential uses, on a lot that previously only had 1-3 units. It would make a lot of sense for some of the ugly streets that I’m talking about. But let’s be honest: it would be almost impossible to get approved. One of the biggest issues would probably be the adjacency/overlook issue that it generates with the neighboring backyards. It’s probably also too tall.
One of the main reasons why, I think, laneway suites work and are now permissible as-of-right in Toronto is that they replace existing garages. (ADU’s for the Americans.) They reallocate space that was previously used for cars to humans. And so the incremental height / density is not all that great. They, for the most part, preserve precious neighborhood character. What the Hi-Lo Hybrid proposes is not so incremental. It’s bold. It would be a massive fight. I know that and you know that. But bold is generally what you need when you’re trying to do great things and when you’re trying to shape the future. And so with that, I’ll leave you all with some words from the late American architect, Daniel Burnham.
“Make no little plans; they have no magic to stir men’s blood and probably themselves will not be realized. Make big plans; aim high in hope and work, remembering that a noble, logical diagram once recorded will never die, but long after we are gone will be a living thing, asserting itself with ever-growing insistency. Remember that our sons and grandsons are going to do things that would stagger us. Let your watchword be order and your beacon beauty.”
I spent this evening driving around Toronto with an architect friend of mine looking for laneway houses. (Late summer sunsets have a wonderful way of extending the day.)
I think most people would be surprised by how many of them are hidden away behind our streets. I think of laneways as a forgotten third layer behind our major avenues and smaller streets.
One of my favorite laneway houses, pictured above, is Armstrong Avenue by Taylor_Smyth Architects. It’s a bit unusual in that it’s exceptionally large for a laneway house (2,200 square feet). But that’s because the building was originally built as a dairy (1912).
What’s interesting about the house is that from the outside it looks rather nondescript. Okay, it looks raw and rundown. Here is a closer photo:
But then inside, it looks like this. Modern. Clean. Polished. And light-filled.
I’m not suggesting that this should or could become a repeatable model for laneway housing in Toronto. Again, it’s a unique circumstance. But I think contrast is an extraordinary poetic device. And in this case, it speaks to both the past and the future of this city.
There’s some great news in the Toronto Star this week.
(Thank you Mike for bringing this to my attention.)
Two councillors – Mary-Margaret McMahon and Ana Bailao – have come out in support of allowing laneway housing in Toronto. Some cities call them detached accessory dwelling units (DADUs).
If you’re new to laneway housing, check out this post and this post (both are 2+ years old). I’ve been on this horse for over a decade.
Because going beyond their small space cool factor, laneway housing has the potential to fundamentally alter the housing supply constraint that I wrote about a few weeks ago – namely the yellowbelt. It’s a way to gently allow for new housing, while at the same time preserving the character of our “stable” neighborhoods.
And frankly, I can’t think of any other way to add new ground related housing at any sort of meaningful scale within the city limits – not unless we’re willing to give up the “stability” of our neighborhoods. So this is it.
If you’re on the same page, I would encourage you to reach out to Councillor McMahon and Bailao and let them know that. There’s also a public workshop scheduled for Monday, December 5th at 7pm at the Evergreen Brick Works (550 Bayview Avenue).
It’s the same story: buy house; see opportunity to build low-cost well-designed backyard cottage (or laneway house); discover the countless obstacles in front of you; give up until the land use policies become more favorable.
Here’s the Seattle version of the story (via The Urbanist):
I bought my home in 2014 with the intent of building a backyard cottage on the property. The property is a mere 4,080 square feet, with a large flat backyard that is mostly wasted space. The plan was to buy a small, prefabricated, and super-insulated (to Passive House standards) house. We would install it and move into it while we brought the main house up to Passive House standards as well, adding insulation and ventilation. We would then move into the main house while my parents (who are currently living on the East Coast, and want to move closer to us) move into the backyard cottage.
Unfortunately, Seattle’s backyard cottage requirements proved too onerous for us to move forward with building one. The requirement of an additional parking space was a bit irritating (especially considering that my family lives car-free near the future Roosevelt light rail station), despite the fact that we do technically have two parking spaces. But more frustrating than that, it was the owner-occupancy requirement that made us scrap our backyard cottage plans.
What I find interesting about all of this is that the same narrative is happening in multiple cities, from Seattle to Toronto. That, again, suggests to me that change is likely inevitable. Especially since Seattle seems further ahead in this regard compared to Toronto. Change is happening.
Of course, there are differences between accessory dwelling units (what The Urbanist wrote about) and independent laneway housing (what I wrote about). But I would classify them as being in the same family of urban change.
Most North American cities are clinging to a specific kind of single family housing typology. I can appreciate why. But I believe that there will be a tipping point.
I’m not sure that this year will be the year. Which is why I didn’t include laneway housing in my list of 10 city building predictions for 2016. But I think it will happen in the shorter term.
