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.
Approving new housing is one thing. And it is an important one thing. But you also need to sell/lease and finance the project. And that is a lot more challenging in today’s environment compared to a few years ago. I think a lot of people look at our cities, see a shortage of housing, and wonder why developers don’t just build more of it. But it’s not that simple:
“Our industry is now taking a second look at our [calculations] and saying it’s costing more to build, it’s costing more to lend,” he said. “And there is a threshold in regards to what a purchase price or sale price can be. So there’s a bit of a pause in the market right now in regards to starting construction.”
Throughout this last development cycle and, in particular, during the pandemic, development costs increased dramatically. But the revenue side was also increasing — meaning you could sell and/or lease space for more. That kept development going. You could still successfully underwrite new projects.
But now the cost of debt has increased and the revenue side has expectedly slowed both in terms of pricing and velocity. This dramatically changes the feasibility of new projects, which means the market is going to need time to adjust to this new environment. This, of course, will happen. But in the interim (i.e. right now), it is going to mean a lot less new housing.
According to this annual survey by Henley & Partners (first chart from Bloomberg), these are the top 10 wealthiest cities in the world when you count the number of high-net-worth individuals (i.e. people with investable wealth greater than US$1 million):
However, if you instead count billionaires, the top city flips from New York City to the Bay Area (which includes San Francisco and all of Silicon Valley). This isn’t all that surprising.
Also not surprising is the precipitous decline in the number of HNWIs residing in Hong Kong. From 2012 to 2022, the number declined by 27%. That said, a bunch of other cities fared even worse. The city that lost the most millionaires over this same decade was Moscow. It declined by 44%.
For those of you wondering about Toronto, we placed 12th, just after Chicago, with 105,200 millionaires, 193 centi-millionaires, and 18 billionaires:
The next city in Canada on the list is Vancouver, and following that is Montreal:
It is interesting to see how much further behind Montreal places with these metrics given that it is an urban region with about 1.6x the population of that of Vancouver’s.
Also interesting — given its size and global importance — is Paris (18th when it comes to HNWIs):
However, when it comes to seasonal draw, Paris is second only to Miami, which appears to be the undisputed global destination for rich people in the winter. Paris has 126 centi-millionaire residents, but during its peak holiday month (presumably summer), this number is believed to increase to over 300:
Finally, looking at Park City, Utah, it has 8 permanent centi-millionaires and this number is thought to increase to over 100 during the winter snowboarding season. And to be clear, this transient population figure only includes people who own a second home there. It does not include rich people paying US$3,700 per night to stay at Deer Valley. That’s pretty good for a small town of only 8,500 permanent residents.
To check out the full list of 97 cities, click here.
It was pure luck, but we couldn’t have timed this last week any better. It started snowing in the mountains around Salt Lake City on Tuesday, and it felt like it didn’t stop until Saturday. On Wednesday morning, which was peak powder, the main resorts were reporting anywhere between 23″ and 30″ of fresh now. It was the stuff of magical dreams.
But snowfall is, of course, highly variable. SLC is having a record year, whereas many resorts in Europe weren’t able to open until mid-January because of a lack of snow. And from a macro perspective, things are generally getting worse. According to this report, for every one degree increase in the world’s average temperature, global snow cover is reduced by about 8%.
What this mean is that, even in low emission scenarios, many of the places that previously hosted the Winter Olympics, may struggle to do so again in the future because of “non-reliable” snow cover. Freestyle ski and snowboard, for example, typically wants a minimum of 1 meter of snowpack as a base, and sometimes more if melting is expected.
Things do not look positive for Vancouver, Garmisch-Partenkirchen, and even Chamonix in the below chart. (And as a further blow, the authors of the report also don’t know how to spell Vancouver.) Naturally, this is something that you might want to consider when looking at long-term investments that are dependent on fresh snow.
You can, however, ignore Sochi in the above chart. Because this was never a great place for the Winter Olympics and it’s unclear to me why this place was ever chosen (other than for presumably nefarious reasons). It’s like: “We are one of the largest and coldest countries in the world. We have a lot of snow in Russia. But for fun, let’s choose one of the few places with a sub-tropical climate.”
Excluding Sochi, though, this is an alarming chart.
According to the Globe and Mail, Canada’s census metropolitan areas (or city regions) grew by about 574,000 people for the year ending July 1, 2022. This is the highest number on record (or at least since Statistics Canada started tracking this figure in 2001), which is not entirely surprising given that immigration flows slowed dramatically during the pandemic.
The other thing that the pandemic did was accelerate a trend of people leaving the biggest city regions for other parts of a province. During this same time period, Vancouver saw a net intraprovincial migration loss of about 14,300 people, Montreal saw about 29,500, and Toronto saw 78,077. But again, this was a trend that was building prior to the pandemic:
It is perhaps no surprise that these losses follow the order of our largest city regions. And it once again suggests that we are not doing enough when it comes to housing supply/affordability and homes for young families. These intraprovincial losses are not because these city regions aren’t desirable. It’s in fact the exact opposite.
A few days ago I tweeted this chart out (from Statistics Canada):
It is a list of the densest downtowns in Canada (people per square kilometer). But to be more precise, it is a list of the densest primary downtowns for each census metropolitan area.
In the case of Toronto, for instance, it considers downtown Toronto, but it does not consider downtown Mississauga, downtown Brampton, or any other “downtowns” across the CMA. And in the case of Vancouver, it ignores important centers such as Burnaby.
Many were quick to point this out on Twitter and it is a fair comment. Our cities are often more polycentric than a chart like this might make it seem.
The other thing to consider is that these density numbers are dependent on what you assume as the boundary for each downtown. For downtown Vancouver it’s a fair bit easier because it is a peninsula surrounded by water.
But for downtown Toronto, it’s more nebulous. Where do you draw the line? In this case, Statistics Canada is using the same downtown boundary as what’s in our Official Plan, but that happens to include the lower-density University of Toronto lands. So are we comparing apples to apples?
Between 2016 and 2021, and according to this recent report from Statistics Canada, the population of the Toronto CMA (Census Metropolitan Area) grew by over 274k people:
The population of the Montréal CMA grew by nearly 188k people:
And the population of the Vancouver CMA grew by over 179k people:
These are the three largest CMAs in the country and they, not surprisingly, also have the three largest “downtowns.” As of the spring of 2021, the most populated downtowns were as follows: Toronto (275,931 people), Vancouver (121,932 people), Montréal (109,509), Ottawa (67,169 people), and Edmonton (55,387).
In this exercise, Statistics Canada breaks down each CMA into 5 categories, which are generally based on two things: (1) your typical monocentric city model (downtown in the middle with a declining gradient of surrounding sprawl) and (2) how long it takes to commute — by car during non-rush hours — from downtown to the surrounding areas.
The good news in all of this is that Canada’s downtowns seem to be doing just fine. Broadly speaking, they are growing at a faster rate than their respective CMAs and growing at 2x the rate of the previous census cycle. Halifax’s downtown grew at 26.1% from 2016 to 2021 and Calgary grew at 21%, to give two more examples. So I think you can safely ignore what you may have heard about a pandemic exodus. Those people are now returning from the country after realizing that there aren’t any pretentious coffee shops and expensive butcher shops.
But something else is also going on in Canada’s largest urban centers. The concurrent trend is continued urban sprawl. The biggest downtowns are growing quickly, but so are the distant suburbs (30 minutes or more from downtown). And they are growing at a faster rate than everything in between. This is not entirely surprising, but it is obviously concerning from a climate change perspective and because it suggests that people are being forced to do the old “drive until you qualify” thing.
These two phenomena are the most pronounced in the Toronto CMA. If you scroll back up to the top of this post, you’ll see that downtown absorbed a decent chunk of the population growth (about 14%), particularly considering its small footprint. But then if you look at the distant suburbs (the mustard color), you’ll see that it’s where 72% of new entrants went!
The question I like to ask with all of this is, “are people choosing to move to the distant suburbs because that’s the housing and location that they truly want, or are people choosing it because it’s all they can afford?” There is an argument out there that sprawl is a natural market outcome and that we shouldn’t be forcing people to live in higher-density housing. And I am certainly sympathetic to giving people as much choice as possible.
But how much choice are we really giving people in our biggest cities? We have figured out how to intensify our downtowns through mid- and high-rise development. And evidenced by the growth rates, many people are enjoying this form of housing and the kind of urban lifestyle that comes along with it. But if it happens to not work for you, our current solution is, “either be rich so you can remain close to downtown or go for a drive.”
What is clear from this latest census data is that we haven’t yet figured out the in-between. The missing middle is still missing. And that’s because we have clear mechanisms in place to more or less ensure this is the case: (1) We restrict meaningful growth from taking place in our single-family neighbourhoods and (2) we have made a habit out of shifting some of the incumbent tax burden to new entrants through things like development charges.
Overall, it’s a devilishly clever system where two things happen: “Sorry, you can’t build that kind of housing here. Build it somewhere else. By the way, I’d like to keep my property taxes as low as possible, so not only do I not what you close to me, but I’d also like you to help pay for some things. Cool?” This is the arrangement that we are seeing playing out in these charts. It can be easy to ignore, but it’s there.
So, I of course think this is silly. But here’s a claim that living in high-rises — that is, buildings with elevators — is bad for people’s physical and mental health:
In the midst of a Vancouver civic election where housing is a hot issue, Vancouver councillor and mayoral candidate Colleen Hardwick stated that “highrises are not good for people’s physical and mental health.”
Last week we asked Hardwick to expand further on her views about health and building types. She told The Tyee she believes highrises radically reduce chance encounters between people because they separate people from the street and from each other.
“Ground-oriented housing typologies are ideal,” she said, referring to housing that allows a resident to reach their place of residence using stairs, perhaps, but not an elevator.
Apparently what happens when you get into an elevator is that you immediately lose your ability to interact meaningfully with other humans. Yeah, I’m not the only one who disagrees:
“Coun. Hardwick is cherry-picking her data” about highrise living and the isolating effects of structures with elevators, accused urbanist and author Charles Montgomery. A six-storey building with an elevator, he told The Tyee, is “the most social place I’ve ever lived.”
Cities, it turns out, are complicated. And there are always trade-offs to be made. During the pandemic, some people thought it would be nice to live in a ground-oriented home in the country and now they are realizing that the country lacks things like amenities and, you know, other people.
Personally, I will happily take an elevator over a soul-crushing commute to a home without one. I also agree with Charles that multi-family buildings can be very social.
This Twitter thread by Richard Wittstock of Domus Homes (developer out in Vancouver) is a timely follow-on to yesterday’s post about housing supply, land-use regulations, and specific policies such as inclusionary zoning. What Richard clearly describes in his thread is the economic impact of a Community Amenity Contribution (CAC) that requires developers to provide 20% social housing.
Quick dev't economics thread: Just looked at a beautiful Broadway Plan site. It's a strata wind-up in Mount Pleasant. For owners to vote in favour of wind-up, they'd need to receive a premium over their individual suite values. Otherwise it won't get redeveloped.
The thread will walk you through all of the specific numbers, but I think there are three important takeaways:
Everything has a cost. It is entirely disingenuous for anyone to refer to inclusionary zoning or other similar policies as a mechanism for “no-cost” affordable housing. Even if you believe it is the right public policy approach, there is still a cost. Social housing doesn’t just appear out of thin air.
In Richard’s thread, the remaining market rate condominiums end up needing to be sold for $1,750 psf in order for the entire project to pencil. This is a significant number. But in this case, it is a result of these homes needing to shoulder the cost of the social housing. It is basically saying “housing is too expensive, so let’s make it more expensive so that we can use some of the incremental proceeds to finance less expensive housing.”
If the math doesn’t work, developers will not build new housing.
P.S. Thank you Volodya Gusak for pointing out Richard’s thread to me.
We’ve talked about this before. If you live in New York City, you’re probably about a third as likely to die from a transportation-related accident as compared to the average American. And if you live in Paris, you’re probably about a third as likely to die from a transportation-related accident as compared to the average New Yorker.
These stats might feel a bit intuitive to you. Both New York and Paris are big and dense metros with high public transit ridership. And that usually translates into less car accidents. As for the divide between these two cities, Paris is in Europe. It’s old. Most of its streets were built before the car had been invented. And all of these things are generally good for pedestrians. Makes sense.
But David Zipper asked a good question today: So what’s going on with Canada? Canada is not in Europe (though some might argue that it sits culturally somewhere between the US and Europe). It’s not that old. And it generally has a car-oriented landscape just like the US. So why is it that in 2020, Americans were 2.5x more likely than Canadians to die in a car crash? The trend lines are also diverging between these two countries. Between 2010 to 2020, US road deaths increased 19% on a per capita basis, whereas Canada’s rate declined by about the same rate, according to David.
Ultimately, we are probably going to need Malcolm Gladwell to write a book about this so that we can really figure out what’s going on. But in the interim, David does propose a few possible explanations ranging from Canadians buying slightly smaller vehicles to Canadians being slightly more law-abiding than Americans and so less likely to run people over. But one of the most persuasive explanations for me is that maybe our urban landscapes aren’t actually the same.
More than a third of Canadians live in our three biggest cities: Toronto, Montreal, and Vancouver. And this number would be even higher if you looked at the full urban catchment areas of each. Either way, this is a significantly higher concentration than in the US, where about 13% of Americans live in the metro areas of New York City, Los Angeles, and Chicago.
Part of this difference is because the US has almost 9x more people and has many more big cities to choose from. But it doesn’t change the fact that, despite our reputed love for things like forests and beavers, Canadians are actually quite urban. And as we have discovered, that’s a good thing for pedestrians.
The Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation (CMHC) just published its latest housing supply report for Canada’s 6 largest city regions (downloadable over here).
One figure that stands out is the increase in housing starts in the Calgary CMA — it was up almost 63% last year compared to 2020. This is a positive indicator for that market.
It’s also worth mentioning that Calgary’s supply is more evenly split between low-rise and apartment housing. This is in contrast to markets like Toronto, where 3/4 of all new housing is now “apartment”, and in Montreal, where the percentage is even higher.
My view is that it’s time to get more granular with our reporting of higher density housing. In the above example, we are showing 3 categories for grade-related housing and only 1 for anything outside of that.
This is our national bias toward low-rise housing coming through.
