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.
A beautiful new 43-storey rental building was just approved in Toronto’s Liberty Village neighborhood. More info about the project can be found, here. Not surprisingly, some people in the community were against it. Here is a recent article that blogTO published talking about people who live in high-rises not wanting a new high-rise next to them.
One argument that is being made is that the neighborhood is already full. It has reached its density limit. We also hear this about the City of Toronto as a whole. But we know this isn’t true. Architect Naama Blonder recently did a study that found we could fit another 12 million people within our boundaries with more efficient land use policies.
This particular site in Liberty Village is also about 400 meters from a future subway stop on the Ontario Line. So it is exactly where we should be putting more density. The problem today is that the area is suffering from a massive infrastructure deficit. The road network is inadequate and the King streetcar hasn’t been prioritized.
It’s no wonder the area feels full. But the reality is that there are lots of examples of highly livable neighborhoods from around the world with much higher population densities. The difference is that they have the right infrastructure, the right public realms, and the right modal splits.
Liberty Village will get there as well and it’s already underway. For a preview of the future, check out the City of Toronto’s Public Realm Strategy for the area. It was published in April 2024 and it includes things like new streets, new mid-block connections, and new parks. It is what the area needs and it’s exciting to see it happening.
This is the battle that is now playing out across Toronto — and many other cities — as we look to intensify our existing communities; even in the ones sitting on higher-order transit. Cities rightly want to see it happen. But local ratepayers do not.
From the Globe and Mail:
“This project is in no way gentle intensification,” said the architect Terry Montgomery, representing the powerful local group the Annex Residents Association. “It will set a dangerous precedent for all areas in the city which currently [are zoned for] low-scale residential-buildings.”
It’s not clear whether that legal argument is true. At the meeting, City of Toronto planning manager David Driedger and director Oren Tamir – who, to their great credit, were supporting the development – said it would not set a precedent.
But if it did, why would that be “dangerous”? It is commonsensical. The Lowther site has two subway stations within an eight-minute walk. Toronto’s Line 1 and Line 2 intersect right here. This is one of the best-located, best-connected places in all of Canada.
Alex Bozikovic is, of course, right. This is commonsensical.
If our goals are to create more homes, improve housing affordability, reduce traffic congestion, and make us overall a more sustainable city, then there’s no better place to build than on top of transit within our already built-up areas.
When we build next to transit, we often call this transit-oriented development.
What’s interesting about this moniker is that it implies we’re doing something a little special — something out of the ordinary. And I guess that makes sense because, in many cities, it is often out of the ordinary.
That’s why you don’t hear people at real estate conferences saying, “check out this newcutting edge car-oriented development that our firm is developing.” That doesn’t need to be specified.
But at the end of the day, I’m not sure how special transit-oriented development really is; it’s basically just urban development. Meaning, you put density on top of and next to transit stations and then more people take transit. That’s how this works.
On that note, here is an interesting study from the School of Cities that looked at Toronto’s transit network and how the populations around each station have changed (or not changed) between 1996 and 2021 (census data).
If you look at the various transit lines, you’ll see that, in some cases, like downtown, we have added a lot of new transit-oriented development. This is good. Populations increased.
But in many/most other cases, populations remained flat; or worse, they declined. This is a serious problem, and it shows how land use restrictions are forcing us to underutilize our existing transit assets.
Maybe what we need to do is stop thinking about transit-oriented development as something special, and instead remind ourselves that this is standard operating procedure. It’s just what you do next to transit.
Thanks to Sam Kulendran for sharing the above study with me.
There are many ways to describe one of the prevailing urban forms emerging across the Greater Toronto Area. You could call it spiky urbanism. You could call it a collection of peaks and plains. Or — as it is referred to in this recent article by Alex Bozikovic about “turning the suburb into the city” — you could call it cruise ship urbanity:
These megaprojects are where Toronto has chosen to cram much of its new growth – “cruise ships of urbanity,” as Mr. Giannone told me, in a sea of houses. As such they provide an opportunity to create citylike density and activity.
What we are talking about is a dichotomous form of urbanism: high-density mixed-use nodes surrounded by low-rise car-oriented communities. And on many levels, this makes a lot of sense, especially if the cruise ship happens to be docked on top of a transit station. This is where density needs to go. If you have a transit station without much density, that should be addressed immediately.
But it also presents a great challenge. If transportation planning is necessarily land use planning, then we are dealing with two very different kinds of land use patterns and, therefore, two very different kinds of mobility demands. You can address this by making the cruise ship as self-sufficient and pleasant as possible, but eventually someone will want or need to get off the ship.
Does that mean they will then need a car?
You don’t have this same problem with more consistent forms of urbanism. Consider, for example, cities like Paris and Barcelona. These are dense cities, but more importantly they are, for the most part, uniformly dense. Or at least, uniformly dense enough. Meaning that you can probably apply a more uniform transportation strategy. What works in one part of the city is likely to work in other parts too.
Of course, we could also apply a uniform transportation strategy to our urban cruise ships. Given that they exist in a sea of low-rise houses, we could simply say that each urban cruise ship resident should also have their own parking space (1:1 ratio). The solution: everyone drives! But this, to me, seems like an insane long-term solution.
In my view, the most impactful solution lies not in the ships themselves, but in the seas surrounding them. We need to look holistically at our entire city region and determine what it will take to turn suburb into city. And that likely means a whole host of things, ranging from leveraging the infrastructure we already have (i.e. upzoning around transit stations) to embracing autonomous vehicles.
In the end, I don’t think we want cruise ships of urbanity. We need more density, everywhere.
Unaffordability has apparently gotten so bad that we are now seeing a groundswell of support for increasing overall housing supply. So politicians are doing things. And this week, the Province of British Columbia proposed some new legislation related to transit hubs.
As proposed, the legislation will require BC municipalities to designate Transit Oriented Development Areas (TOD Areas), mandate minimum heights and densities within certain radii (broadly 800m in the case of rapid transit stations), and remove parking minimums.
Not surprisingly, a lot of people are excited about this and, there’s no question, that this is directionally the right thing to do. But I have two immediate thoughts.
The first is that the devil is always in the details. This all sounds good, but: Are the proposed minimum densities and heights going to be enough to stimulate development? For example, is 4 the right minimum FAR for 300m from a transit station?
The second thought has to do with the level of excitement surrounding this announcement. (I’m going strictly based on Twitter, which admittedly could just be my bubble). The fact that city builders are so excited about this announcement tells us a lot about the current state of affairs.
Because what this proposed legislation is more or less saying is the following: “Hey, here’s a great idea! Let’s build more housing around higher order transit and not force the market to build unnecessary parking.”
Is this really something that should be considered novel? I thought this was just how cities should work.
What is the case for having parking minimums? (i.e. Mandating a certain number of parking spaces in new developments.) I guess the argument is that if you don’t require developers to build it, they won’t build enough. And then people will not have parking and so they will be forced to park on the street somewhere. This might annoy the incumbent residents, who will in turn complain, and so it is best and safest to just to build a lot of parking.
This is pretty much the only reason that I can think of for why a city might want to maintain parking minimums. Because, what’s the worst thing that could happen if you didn’t build enough parking? In the best case scenario, the developer builds fewer parking spaces and people are fine with it. This is ideal because it means people are getting around in other ways: walking, cycling, taking transit, and/or using car share. So it is the most sustainable outcome!
A bad scenario would be that the developer builds too few parking spaces, nobody will rent the spaces, and then goes bankrupt. This would be very bad for the developer; however, it would be a lot less of a concern for the city. The developer is the one who screwed up. Too bad for them. So when I see new transit-adjacent developments — like this one here in Burnaby, BC with 14 levels of below-grade parking — one can’t help but think: WTF!
To be clear, this is not a criticism of the developer. I don’t do that sort of thing on this blog. This is a criticism of parking minimums. They are so last decade. And I’m even being generous with this timeline.
Not surprisingly, the responses were divided. Some responded saying that beauty is more important than density, and a lot of people were quick to point out that there’s good density and there’s bad density. And because I can appreciate both of these comments, it made me think that I should probably elaborate on my glib tweet.
The points I was trying to vaguely imply are the following.
More often than not (at least for North American cities), I think our problem is not too much density, it’s too little. This translates into cities that aren’t walkable, aren’t conducive to transit, and that are overall less sustainable. Right now, every mayoral candidate in Toronto is promising to fix our crippling traffic congestion. I don’t know how they’re going to do it, but they’re promising it because they know it’s something people are pissed off about.
But here’s my take: counterintuitively, the problem is not enough density. The problem is that too many people in our region have no reasonable way to get around without a car. So they’re forced to drive. The way you fix this not as simple as more traffic enforcement or better signal timing. Good luck! You fix it through density, because density is what makes other forms of mobility suddenly possible.
All of this is not to say that density alone will render you a great city. Obviously things like beauty also matter a great deal. But in my opinion, density is a fundamental component. Because what good is beauty if you don’t have any urban vibrancy? The answer is that you probably don’t have a real city.
The other point I was trying to make is that space and density are both relative and oftentimes difficult to understand. We think building height and density are correlated, but that’s not always the case. Look at Paris or Barcelona. We also like to make a lot of spatial rules that we think are right and make our cities better: streets should be at least this wide, buildings should be no taller than the width of the street, and so on.
But here (pictured above) is a street that narrows to around 6 meters and has buildings that are probably 2.5-3x the width of the right-of-way. Sure, it also happens to be beautiful, historic, and Italian. But what would happen if you maintained this same beauty and made the street 5x as wide and lined up parking in front of the stores?
Somehow it wouldn’t be as enjoyable as what you see here.
I just learned that the US has a “National Walk to Work Day.” And it happens to be today, Friday, April 7, 2023. It was started in 2004 by the federal government and the American Podiatric Medical Association — because, you know, walking is good for your feet — and the idea is that since so few Americans actually walk to work, we should encourage them to do it at least one day of the year. Back in 2019, the figure was that less than 3% of Americans do it on average.
While I’m sure that there are some good intentions here, I’m guessing that the impact of this national day is probably somewhere between zero and “I guess I’ll park in a farther spot at the office park today.” The reality is that a day like this exists because we have spent the last 75 years, or even longer, making it exceedingly difficult to navigate our cities without a car. So it is equal to, “let me speak out of the other side of my mouth for a day.”
But we also know that a real and meaningful solution is pretty simple to achieve (though clearly not easy). Build smaller streets and build more densely, especially next to transit. (Would you add anything to this?) So I think it’s time for a new kind of national day. Maybe it’s a day where every dense development proposal next to transit just gets automatically approved. It would be a national day for “this took too long, so here you go.”
I don’t know, this probably needs some work. I’m open to other ideas here.
There are many development narratives that I don’t quite understand. (I’m thinking of Toronto, but you can probably replace Toronto with any number of global cities for this discussion.) One is the belief that our transit network is full and so no new development should be allowed in certain locations, next to certain transit stations. The thrust of this argument is that additional transit capacity must be added before any new development is allowed to occur. This might sound logical, except it ignores the fact that the need for new housing doesn’t magically disappear because subway cars are thought to be too busy during the morning rush.
Transit systems are also a network, and so does this mean that no more development should be allowed to happen anywhere in the city/region? Or is the goal to simply move development off of higher order transit and into lower-density areas so that the future residents in these new buildings can either take buses to the transit stations that were previously deemed to be at capacity or drive their cars everywhere? (Our highways have excess capacity during the morning rush, right?)
The second narrative that I find perplexing is that new developments don’t give back in any way. Above is a chart showing residential development charges in the City of Toronto, as of November 1, 2020. This chart outlines the fees that every developer must pay when building new residential, though it is important to keep in mind that there are many other government fees and charges that form part of almost every new development. These are things like parkland dedication and separately negotiated community benefits. But for the purposes of this post, let’s just focus on development charges (aka impact fees).
Assume you’re building a 400 unit apartment building, consisting of 240 one bedroom suites (60%) and 160 two and three bedroom suites (40%). Based on the above chart, your development charge bill would be:
240 one bedroom suites x $33,358 per unit = $8,005,920
160 two and three bedroom suites x $51,103 per unit = $8,176,480
For a total of $16,182,400.
But it’s important to keep in mind that these are the rates as of November 1, 2020. They will almost certainly go up by the time these charges become payable for your 400 unit apartment building. By how much you ask? Well according to Urban Capital’s most recent issue of Site Magazine, which compared a development pro forma from 2005 to 2020, development charges in the City of Toronto have increased by about 3,244% during this time period. (The S&P 500 was up about 220% during this same time.) These are obligatory fees that contribute to everything from transit and parks to subsidized housing and municipal services. (The line items above.)
So it strikes me that there are other more productive questions that we could and should be asking ourselves. Such as, why is it that our transit/mobility infrastructure hasn’t kept pace with new development and new housing demand? What are we going to do to fix that immediately? Why are we not taxing the things we don’t want (like traffic congestion) so that we have more resources for the things we do want (like transit and housing)? And most importantly, what is the best way for all of us to work together so that we can create the absolute greatest global city in the world?
I can’t open Twitter these days without seeing someone in the tech industry talking about moving or talking about someone who just moved to either Austin or Miami. “What’s the best neighborhood in Miami for startups? My friend just moved to Edgewater. Where did so-and-so move?”
Here’s a recent article from the WSJ talking about how accelerated tech-fueled growth is straining Austin. And below is a set of charts (from the article) comparing home prices in Austin and San Francisco. (Reminder, the California-to-Texas migratory pattern recorded the highest number of “net movers” last year.)
But in reading through the article, I am reminded that the challenges facing Austin are not entirely unique. Growing cities all around the world are being put in a position where they need to decide whether they want to remain car-oriented and relatively low-density, or if they want to make the shift toward more transit-oriented urbanism.
It’s admittedly not easy, both politically and practically speaking. It’s hard to rewrite deeply entrenched built form. But Austin is naturally looking at what happened in San Francisco, where restrictions on new development are thought to be partially (largely?) responsible for the city’s unaffordable housing.
According to the same WSJ article, voters in Austin turned down two previous transit proposals. One was in 2000 and the other was in 2014. There was concern over too much urbanization. There was concern it would induce more people to move to the city. And there was concern that it would threaten the city’s low-rise single-family homes.
But this year a transit plan was approved that includes three new rail lines, one of which will tunnel through downtown. Provided that Austin can effectively pair this with more housing, more uses, and more density — which is generally what you need to make transit work — then it may be well on its way to crossing, if you will, the chasm of urbanity.
