Are evolving suburbs really suburban anymore?

Silicon Valley google map

Leigh Gallagher is in the news with a provocatively titled book, The End of the Suburbs. Gallagher writes about the shifting geography of the American Dream from suburbia to growing cities and walkable places. In a summary for Time, Gallagher writes:

A major change is underway in where and how we are choosing to live. In 2011, for the first time in nearly a hundred years, the rate of urban population growth outpaced suburban growth, reversing a trend that held steady for every decade since the invention of the automobile. In several metropolitan areas, building activity that was once concentrated in the suburban fringe has now shifted to what planners call the “urban core,” while demand for large single-family homes that characterize our modern suburbs is dwindling. This isn’t just a result of the recession. Rather, the housing crisis of recent years has concealed something deeper and more profound happening to what we have come to know as American suburbia. Simply speaking, more and more Americans don’t want to live there anymore.

The American suburb used to evoke a certain way of life, one of tranquil, tree-lined streets, soccer leagues and center hall colonials. Today’s suburb is more likely to evoke endless sprawl, a punishing commute, and McMansions.

A few comments pop into mind:

This isn’t a new idea: Just googling some articles in recent years that I remember off the top of my head:

And I’m sure there are countless others, along with corroborating evidence from declining VMT, growing urban populations, and so on.

‘Suburb’ isn’t a descriptive term: Is Cambridge, MA suburban? Is all within the city limits of Houston, TX urban? The term could refer to the type of built environment, or to the nature of the political jurisdiction in relation to others in the region.

Suburbs are already evolving: Dan Reed highlights urbanizing suburban jurisdictions; Richard Layman describes potential paths for evolution; Josh Dzieza wonders if urbanizing suburbs might take some of the sting out of the culture wars and rhetorical battles between city-dwellers and suburbanites.

Suburban evolution isn’t a new thing: Alexis Madrigal offers a story about searching for the landmarks of Silicon Valley, finding that the center of a new industrial revolution is now a self-storage complex. Part of the myth of Silicon Valley is about a new industry emerging from agricultural landscapes; clean, new industry. But as Madrigal explains, the industry wasn’t that clean, and the pattern isn’t that new:

In our Internet-happy present, it’s easy to forget that up until the mid-1980s, Silicon Valley was an industrial landscape. Hundreds of manufacturers lined the streets of Sunnyvale, Palo Alto, Cupertino, Mountain View, and San Jose. This is the Silicon Valley when AMD, Apple, Applied Materials, Atari, Fairchild, Hewlett-Packard, Intel, National Semiconductor, Varian Associates, Xerox, and hundreds of other companies made their products right here in the Bay.

Now, with most of the production shifted overseas, the land uses have changed accordingly. Nonetheless, production of semiconductors and microchips is not without pollution, and leaking chemicals have littered the Valley with Superfund sites:

In contemporary descriptions of Silicon Valley as it was being built, every writer seems to note the absence of smoke stacks. A miracle! A clean industry! A better industrial capitalism!

The aesthetic was intentional. These factories of the future were designed to look like buildings on a college campus, which is to say, Stanford. The Stanford Industrial Park (later, the Stanford Research Park) set the visual standard from its founding in 1951 onward. There were rules governing which parts of the industrial apparatus could be visible, so as not to detract from the idea that these were locations for scholars, not laborers.

“Companies had to follow strict building codes, which included ‘complete concealment’ of things like smokestacks, generators, transformers, ducts, storage tanks, and air conditioning equipment,” environmental historian Aaron Sachs wrote in 1999.

Other municipalities wanted to encourage similar developments, and as Sachs concludes, “Stanford Industrial Park essentially replicated itself several times over–each time spurring the construction of new expressways and strip malls in neighboring areas.” What began as Stanford dean and Silicon Valley godfather Fred Terman’s dream to build “a community of technical scholars” in pleasant industrial parks became the architectural standard for the entire high-tech manufacturing world.

But the manicured look and feel had consequences. Storage tanks were placed underground, out of sight and out of mind. Until suddenly, in 1981, people in south San Jose living near Fairchild Semiconductor and IBM realized they were drinking water contaminated by the two firms’ manufacturing plants.

Several patterns of note: the influence of codes, unintended consequences, agglomeration economies, and the impacts of growth. And, hidden within the stereotypical suburbia is a more complex, evolved place:

What we see here is not simple suburbia. This is a landscape that industrialists, government regulators, and city planners sacrificed to create the computer industry that we know today. It has as much in common with a coal mine or the Port of Oakland as it does with Levittown or Google’s campus. All of which should lead us to a simple conclusion: the Silicon Valley of today is a post-industrial landscape, like the lofts near downtowns across the country, like Lansing, Michigan, like Williamsburg, like Portland’s Pearl District.

What we see now is a surreal imitation of the suburban industrial parks and commercial spaces of yesteryear. They’re built atop the past’s mistakes, erasing them from our maps and eyes.

The evolution of suburbia isn’t new. And Madrigal’s article is well worth the read.

Miscellaneous information and visuals about Dulles International Airport

MWAA IAD signage standards

In the process of scouring the internet for sources for my previous post on growing air cargo traffic at Dulles International Airport, I came across a whole host of interesting documents and information that I couldn’t find a way to fit into the narrative. So, here’s a smorgasboard of some tangentially related items I found interesting.

The image above is one example, showing spacing for wayfinding signage at IAD. Some signage uses the ‘Saarinen’ typeface, designed by Eero Saarinen specifically for the airport. The graphic is from IAD’s extensive Airport Design Standards and Signing Guidelines document, a document that not only establishes standards for the aesthetics of the airport, but also reveals the future plans for expansion at IAD.

The challenge of costs: The cost per enplanement at Dulles has risen above the median for peer airports as MWAA engaged on IAD’s capital construction program. DCA’s constraints don’t provide room for growth, but don’t require large capital expenses, either:

MWAA IAD CPE forecast

Growth potential: Dulles has room to grow and handle 3x as many passengers as it does today, and with a significant increase in airfield capacity as well.

MWAA IAD plan gates

MWAA IAD plan airfield

Future layout: While the planning consistently shows four tiers of midfield concourses, the schematic from the Design Guidelines re-names the terminals to follow the sequence of an Aerotrain trip, rather than the current nomenclature:

MWAA future terminal layout

Regional competition among Washington-area airports: Dulles handled the most passengers in 2012, but all three airports are very similar in overall traffic levels. Dulles has the most connecting traffic (42% of passengers connect) and the fewest number of origins/destinations in the DC area. Dulles also has (by far) the international traffic:

MWAA regional traffic connect intl

At the same time, the FAA forecasts for growth show Dulles taking the majority of the incremental air traffic for the region:

MWAA regional traffic FAA forecast

Development opportunities: An illustrative example from MWAA’s strategic planning documents showing the land available for development at the airport:

MWAA IAD dev opps

The northern-most of those orange blobs is a potential transit-oriented development project at the Route 606 Metro Station.

Parking symbols: From the Design Guidelines, examples of sky-related symbols for parking wayfinding:

MWAA parking symbols

MWAA parking symbol example

Growing cargo traffic at Dulles – the challenges of realizing the value of an aerotropolis

Dulles International Airport - from Google Maps

Dulles International Airport – from Google Maps

In DC’s western suburbs, two related battles concerning growth are at the forefront. One is a plan for a new highway, the other is the desire to expand air cargo operations at Dulles International Airport. Both concepts seem to be hitched to one another, but they ought to be considered separately on their own merits.

The Metropolitan Washington Airports Authority has expressed a desire to grow cargo traffic at Dulles. At the same time, sprawl interests are pushing the bi-county parkway, pitching the road as a benefit to Dulles. Jonathan O’Connell’s profile of several road advocates in the Washington Post shows how much of the advocacy is another verse of the same song.

Looking to untie the road interests and airport interests David Alpert asks why MWAA is pushing all things Dulles in a Washington Post op-ed, when passengers seem more interested in DCA:

Virginia and airport officials seem to behave as though their mission is to make more stuff happen at Dulles, whether that stuff wants to happen there or not.

A quick glance through an MWAA powerpoint from their strategic planning exercises explains the logic of focusing growth on Dulles. DCA is constrained (physically, legally) with room to grow only on the margins. DCA can never be the full-service International airport that IAD can; and MWAA fears maximizing value at DCA would hurt IAD’s currently fragile position – the FAA’s recently approved slot-swap gave JetBlue a foothold at DCA, with a corresponding reduction in flights at IAD (slide 16).

MWAA revenues 2012

Dulles relies on air traffic for approximately 75% of its revenues. While Dulles has tremendous capacity to grow, realizing that potential requires additional capital investment, such as Dulles’ Aerotrain and other elements of the recent D2 program. Now, Dulles finds itself trapped with a higher cost per enplanement than other airports due to the capital program, and a revenue stream overly reliant on aviation revenues.

Increased air cargo has the potential to help on both counts. More freight means more flights, boosting aviation revenues without requiring new airport facility investments. More freight also means increased demand for revenue-generating uses of airport land that currently lie fallow.

The catch is this: it’s not easy creating a freight business out of nothing. Dulles does not have the central location like Memphis or Louisville, the central US hubs for FedEx and UPS, respectively. The area does not have a huge manufacturing base, either – air cargo shipments originating or terminating in IAD would need to focus on consumer goods. Likewise, the airport does not currently have a major cargo presence that would lure the manufacturing that does exist in the area to cluster around the airport. Chickens and eggs are both missing.

There are opportunities, however. Dulles does have huge tracts of land, the ability for 24 hour operations, and lots of airfield capacity. Both FedEx and UPS operate regional hubs in the US to avoid the need to route all cargo through their core hubs in Memphis and Louisville. On the east coast, FedEx operates out of Newark while UPS operates their east coast hub in Philadelphia. Linda Loyd profiled the UPS operation in the Philadelphia Inquirer

Starting at 7 a.m. each day, UPS planes arrive in Philadelphia from Cologne, which is UPS’s European hub, and from England and Paris. International flights from Louisville, Ky., stop in Philadelphia heading to Europe, and planes leave Europe, stopping in Philadelphia, bound for Louisville, which is UPS’s air headquarters. Each afternoon, flights arrive here loaded with packages from Dallas and Southern California.

UPS is the world’s largest transportation company, and the Philadelphia facility – second in size only to Louisville – handles 70,000 parcels and documents per hour. That number reaches 95,000 at peak times like Christmas, with parcels headed to and from 18 states, as far west as California.

Just before midnight, as passenger terminals and commercial flights are winding down, operations are heating up at UPS. Package sorting largely happens at night. More than 1,000 UPS workers report at 11 p.m. for the “night sort,” which continues until about 3 a.m., or until all packages are unloaded and sorted and put back into trucks, trailers, and planes to leave again.

Cargo moves around the world in multiple stops, not one long journey.

At each stop, planes and trucks are emptied, and packages are sorted and scanned, and reloaded on other flights. The network tracks packages on each leg of the trip, in order to maximize the weight and loads, through constant sorting and resorting. While a lot of the work is automated, it requires an army of people, along with bar-code scanners and a city of conveyor belts that crisscross like freeways.

Philadelphia’s UPS facility might be ripe for poaching: As Loyd’s article notes, the 212 acre site lies in the way of a proposed runway expansion at PHL. The airport’s proffered alternative location is smaller, closer to residential neighbors, and without room for expansion. Unsurprisingly, UPS does not favor the expansion (nor does PHL’s anchor tenant, US Air – fearing the increased fees that currently hurt an airport like Dulles).

In the case that UPS is looking for alternative airports, MWAA Board Minutes show the courtship in progress. Dulles can offer an east-coast location with room to grow and unconstrained flight operations, and hooking an anchor cargo integrator like UPS would be attractive to other air cargo operators, as well as businesses with lots of air cargo shipments.

While increased cargo is one option to grow non-aviation revenues through land development, it is not the only option. Increasing non-aviation revenues is important to provide a counter-cyclical revenue source for airport operations. It also represents a change in MWAA’s practices – while most airports have been increasing their share of non-aeronautical revenues, MWAA has been going in the opposite direction (page 28).

The options under immediate consideration, however, sound awfully uninspiring (if functional): more parking, another gas station, and an additional hotel (page 29). On the western side of the airport, near the proposed highway expansion, MWAA envisions industrial development that can benefit from direct access to the airport’s ramp.

MWAA supports road expansion near the airport because MWAA is not in a position to argue against improvements to airport access. However, that doesn’t mean the shape of development on and around the airport can’t move in a more sustainable direction. There are a great deal of opportunities to green the airport, but perhaps the most promising would be re-thinking the shape of airport development with the arrival of Metro into something akin to otherairport city’ concepts around the world – capitalizing on the real estate value Metro will bring, the on-airport location, and the virtuous cycle of improving IAD’s airport experience – certainly more ambitious than a second convenience store.

MWAA forecasts slide

Part of the challenge is in counting on growth – the accuracy record of forecast traffic doesn’t exactly build confidence, but the future for more urban development, walkable places, and transit-oriented development in the region is promising. The challenge will be in taking the city approach to the airport; thinking beyond just infrastructure, cargo, and agglomeration economies. Airport terminals are already, by necessity, pedestrian-oriented environments between drop-off and the gate. Extending that mindset beyond the terminal is the next step.

The costs of moving Madison Square Garden from atop Penn Station

CC image from wallyg.

CC image from wallyg.

The New York City Council recently voted to approve Madison Square Garden’s operating permit for a period of just ten years, with the goal of expediting the arena’s replacement and thereby easing the potential renovation of the city’s main inter-city rail station. Given that operating permits are frequently handed out indefinitely, and given the emerging consensus of the city’s elites that the station needs to be replaced, it’s not surprising to see this characterized by some as an eviction notice.

MSG, unsurprisingly, is pushing back. They argue the arena cannot “be forced to move” through the permit process, as they own the arena and the air rights it occupies outright. The government can certainly force MSG (with proper compensation) to move through eminent domain, though the cost of buying MSG out could be prohibitive, and Mayor Bloomberg has ruled out using eminent domain to do so.

Regardless of the method, moving MSG will require a great deal of money. Taking the property would be plenty expensive; luring MSG to move with a new arena would be similarly pricey. Unlike the previous plans for a new MSG as a part of a Penn Station redevelopment plan, the arena’s operators are finishing a large renovation, essentially a complete re-building of the interior of the venue. With the renovation complete, the promise of a modern arena is less lucrative – particularly when a re-located arena would likely require a less-valuable location.

Proponents of the short extension of the operating permit assert that ten years is enough for MSG to amortize the investment of their renovation. When considering the value of the property alone, that claim is dubious:

Further, under these projections, if MSG were forced to move in 15 years, it would have earned back only $375 million. To recoup its entire renovation cost would take 40 years—which is about equal to the useful lifespan of the rehabbed arena. The building had undergone only minor updates since it opened in 1968.

This analysis, however, is the most conservative way of looking at MSG and isn’t at all the way the business community has seen the Garden since Madison Square Garden Co. was spun off from Cablevision three years ago.

To the Wall Street crowd, MSG is not merely an arena, but a fast-growing media company whose crown jewel is the MSG Networks, which broadcast games for the teams that call the Garden home, plus the New York Islanders, New Jersey Devils and Buffalo Sabres. Operating margins in MSG’s cable business are 68%, based on data from research firm SNL Kagan. The robust revenue stream explains why the company has been able to renovate its signature arena without taking on debt.

For the purposes of valuing a piece of real estate to be taken for public use, considering the value of the entire media business would not make sense. Either way, even if the costs of the renovation are fully amortized, MSG would still be owed just compensation for its property.

 

The high costs of relocating MSG against their will make the outcome unlikely. Even with MSG as a willing partner in a relocation, completing a deal would be complicated and expensive. Realistically, the likely outcome will involve station improvents that fall short of demolishing the arena. These can address some of the staiton’s design flaws, rather than mere aesthetic concerns.

Parking is in the news: the trend of cities rolling back zoning requirements for off-street parking

CC image from Peter Rosbjerg

CC image from Peter Rosbjerg

It’s hard to miss the discussion these days about parking, from sources as varied as Grist and the Wall Street Journal. Some links and brief discussion:

Each article highlights the challenges parking presents in an urban environment, and the additional challenges of inflexible rules requiring it. Matt Yglesias makes the case for the straight-up removal of all parking requirements as the simplest option, rather than the selective reductions in certain districts or reductions in the numerical requirement itself. He writes (quoting extensively):

First on a concrete level, this is a form of compromise that really fails in its goal of de-mobilizing opposition. If you are a street parker and your priority in parking policy is to defend your access to cheap street parking, then any reduction in parking mandates should spark opposition. Watering the reform down doesn’t lead to any genuine reconciliation of interests. What you need to do is recognize that street parkers have a real reason for wanting to keep mandates in place and find a way to buy them off. I think what I propose at the end of the column would do that. But once you’ve managed to configure reform as a win-win, then you should go whole hog.

The second is that gradualism, by focusing reform on the places that are most indisputably well-served by transit and pedestrianism, actually denudes parking reform of its main promise—transforming neighborhoods. If you imagine a neighborhood that doesn’t have great bus frequency or amazing neighborhood-serving retail and add some housing with less than one parking space per adult, then you’re going to get the additional customers that would be the basis for more frequent buses or new stores. Why would anyone in a neighborhood like that want a unit with no parking space? Why would a couple want a unit with just one space? Probably most people wouldn’t. But some non-zero quantity of people would do it for the main reason people everywhere put up with sub-optimal housing situations—to save money. But those initial people with fewer cars than adults become the customers for the services—whether that’s carshare or the bus or a walking distance store—that make the neighborhood more attractive down the road.

The way things work right now is that parking minimums risk destroying existing walkable neighborhoods through the reverse dynamic where subsidized car ownership leads to excessive car ownership leads to further auto-oriented development. Selective liberalization of parking rules can break that vicious cycle, which is nice, but only citywide liberalization drives the virtuous process forward.

The partial reductions in requirements are certainly due to political opposition to the idea. Even in places like Portland that had no requirements in some areas of the city have since re-instated limited requirements, ostensibly due to political pressure. However, while removing the offending language is unlikely to win any supporters, keeping it in might rile up even more opposition due to the inherent asymmetry to the procedures of changing regulations such as zoning codes.

On the merits of policy, removing the requirements would be a simple solution. Given that there is no ‘right’ answer to the number of spaces that should be required given the diversity of market segments a developer might build for, and given that in many cases, the ‘right’ number of spaces for a site and market segment could be zero, selecting any one number as the requirement (and getting it ‘right’) is an impossible task – unless that number is zero.

 

Cities as complex systems – with scientific research to show it

False-color satellite image of China's Pearl River Delta. Top image is from 1973, bottom image from 2003. CC images from NASA.

False-color satellite image of China’s Pearl River Delta. Top image is from 1973, bottom image from 2003. CC images from NASA.

Building off of previous research working towards a universal theory of cities, Luis Bettencourt is back in the news with a new paper (working paper version here) that argues cities are a new kind of network not easily captured by analogies to natural systems. Rather, cities are “part social reactor, part network.”

Based on this theory, Bettencourt identifies the basic patterns of how cities grow. From that observation, Bettencourt builds his theory, allowing for the determination if cities are under or over-performing.

From the Santa Fe Institute’s article on the paper, this theory of cities is described as follows:

o what is a city? Bettencourt thinks the only metaphor that comes close to capturing a city’s function is from stellar physics: “A city is first and foremost a social reactor,” Bettencourt explains. “It works like a star, attracting people and accelerating social interaction and social outputs in a way that is analogous to how stars compress matter and burn brighter and faster the bigger they are.”

This, too, is an analogy though, because the math of cities is very different from that of stars, he says.

Cities are also massive social networks, made not so much of people but more precisely of their contacts and interactions. These social interactions happen, in turn, inside other networks – social, spatial, and infrastructural – which together allow people, things, and information to meet across urban space.

Ultimately, cities achieve something very special as they grow. They balance the creation of larger and denser social webs that encourage people to learn, specialize, and depend on each other in new and deeper ways, with an increase in the extent and quality of infrastructure. Remarkably they do this in such a way that the level of effort each person must make to interact within these growing networks does not need to grow.

The argument that cities can be partially explained with natural analogies sounds similar to the use of the constructal law to explain cities, but Bettencourt is arguing that there is a similar, but different relationship here.

Emily Badger summarizes and explains Bettencourt’s research at Atlantic Cities:

But Bettencourt is basically describing interconnected relationships between the population growth of a city; the incremental expansion of the infrastructure networks that more people require; the socioeconomic outputs that come from our social interaction; and the density that necessarily develops over time so that we can still benefit from ever-more social connections without spending ever-more energy to reach each other.

As cities grow, Bettencourt says, the city comes to you. This is a high-minded way of talking about infill development. If cities continued to grow but only grew outward, you would never get any benefits out of knowing or working with new people, since you’d have to sit in traffic for two hours to reach them. Density, however, allows us to reap the benefits of more social connections without adding too many costs in congestion and energy (like gas). All of this enables the amazing growth and benefits of cities to be open-ended.

Per Square Mile offers a summary as well:

Bettencourt believes there are four sparks that cause cities to form—the mixing of populations, the incremental growth of networks, the bounds of human effort, and the relationship between socioeconomic output and personal interaction. According to these assumptions, cities are founded and grow primarily so that people can interact frequently and on a personal level. As demand for face time swells, cities expand, incrementally adding to the existing network. Eventually, those networks reach a limit, bounded by the amount of effort we are willing to expend to expand and maintain them. The greater the benefit of living in a city, the more effort we’re willing to expend to sustain it. Bettencourt’s final assumption may be his most astute—that cities aren’t just agglomerations of people, but also concentrations of social interactions.

The formulas Bettencourt derived could prove powerful. His most muscular equation, that which models city growth, identifies cities that punch above and below their weights. Others show how substandard transportation can hold a city back, or how transportation networks tend to grow incrementally (perhaps that’s why automobile sprawl seems so intractable). But his formulas also highlight some perils, like how energy loss in transportation increases superlinearly—the more you move, the more energy it takes to move something. In sum, they appear to build a solid theoretical framework by which further questions can be asked and hopefully answered.

Questions immediately come to mind about matching our policies to this theory; what the trade-offs between growth and the benefit of living in cities look like in the real world beyond the theoretical framework. Conversely, how might such a theory influence policy? Could an understanding like this help with proposed policy frameworks such as the zoning budget? What about the qualitative elements of a place and the influence they have on these dense, social networks?

Development and the path of least resistance

A quick link that builds on a couple of themes I’ve written about here – development following the path of least resistance, and the need for cities and urban areas to grow in the face of demand for additional development in those places.

Winchester, MA - aerial image from Google Maps

Winchester, MA – aerial image from Google Maps

Zoning makes Massachusetts housing expensive – from the Boston Globe editorial board

Outside of Boston, developers often run into the challenges of regulatory requirements on new development, while city officials come to terms with the fact that the regulatory path of least resistance does not lead to the city’s desired outcomes.

Tidy downtown Winchester, just 20 minutes by train from North Station, should be a prime target for new development. According to one recent study, Greater Boston may need 19,000 new housing units every year just to keep pace with demand. And Winchester would welcome new residents: Town Manager Richard Howard says downtown restaurants and stores are eager to see new residential development on the city-owned lots, and that a planned upgrade to the commuter rail station next year could bring new vitality to downtown. The style of transit-oriented housing would also fall in line with the state’s environmental goals, which call for concentrating residential and commercial development near rail stations.

The obstacle, though, is the state’s dysfunctional ’70s-era zoning code, which sets the parameters for how individual cities and towns plan for development — and, in practice, sets up complex permitting rules and creates numerous opportunities for litigation. The process of securing approval to build new housing in downtown Winchester is so onerous, Howard says, that developers simply won’t bother. And in suburban towns where anti-development sentiment is stronger, the path is even steeper.

The end result? Most development follows the path of least resistance, and the path of least resistance leads to sub-optimal outcomes:

What it amounts to is the worst of all worlds. Sensible, smart-growth housing plans often languish, while single-family homes proliferate on large lots in sprawling suburban subdivisions — one of the few types of housing that can be easily built in Massachusetts under current law. State officials rightly fear that the housing market dynamics squeeze middle-class families so much that they’re endangering the state’s economic health. It also ensures that much of the growth that does occur is unplanned, expensive, and environmentally harmful.

Matching the functional outcomes of a host of complex regulatory processes to a planning vision is difficult, but necessary. It’s also not enough to look at incentives for particular planning goals. Instead, one must look at the entire development process. One must understand the tensions within real estate investment, between city-building and financial performance, how those tensions impact the decision-making of developers, and how the regulatory process creates a choice architecture for those developers.

Parking: often ugly, expensive

CC image from Joe Shlabotnik

CC image from Joe Shlabotnik

A few items on parking, and zoning requirements to provide it.

A case study of absurd and pernicious parking rulesfrom Grist (as part of a series)

Alan Durning documents many of the absurdities of zoning code requirements for off-street parking, focusing his own experience in Seattle. Durning does not own a car and wanted to renovate his existing attached garage into extra space in his house, but such alterations would not comply with the zoning code. Worse, the curb cut for his one-car garage meant one less on-street space.

A parking minimum of two (or more) is even worse public policy. Like a one-space minimum, a two-car minimum sometimes yields no net spaces: Many builders planning two-car garages install double-wide driveways, which block two on-street spaces. Worse, as I’ll argue in subsequent articles, off-street mandates tend to glut the market for parking spaces and trigger a chain of cause and effect that ensures massive subsidies to driving. Whatever the number, furthermore, required off-street spaces dramatically push up the minimum cost of building a house. Curb cuts, driveways, and parking spaces cost thousands of dollars. The requirements also result in more pavement getting poured, armoring our watersheds and increasing the quantity of polluted runoff reaching our streams.

In demonstrating the opportunity costs of parking, Durning compiles a laundry list of potential uses for his garage, other than automobile storage.

Ugly by lawfrom the Sightline Institute (also part of a series)

In the second installment of the series, Alyse Nelson documents the visual impacts of parking and parking requirements. The series also includes several examples of buildings erected prior to on-site parking requirements and those built after, demonstrating the impact of such demanding requirements.

Before parking minimums, buildings in Cascadia could be built to the property line because parking wasn’t a constraint. Now, developers must contend with building heights, setbacks for buildings, and parking regulations—all of which make it harder to develop affordable housing projects. This is especially true at medium densities and lower building heights because it’s harder to make parking garages or underground parking pencil for these smaller projects.

The economic argument is important. The space required to meet the requirements is both expensive to build and requires space to be used for parking, rather than the demanded use. Both of these factors serve to drive up the cost of urban development, but also make infill development difficult and more expensive. Meeting parking requirements in a greenfield site is not the greatest challenge, but meeting suburban-style requirements on an infill development site surrounded by existing buildings on all sides is difficult.

The parking garage, in practice – from Old Urbanist (also part of a series)

Charlie Gardner highlights several examples of garage parking used in practice around the world, providing a set of case studies for how developers deal with the spatial challenges of providing parking.

Outside of Toronto, a residential development features a fairly dense cluster of townhouses built atop of a common-use underground parking garage. Another typology is the ‘Texas Doughnut,’ featuring multi-family development wrapped around a shared-use above-ground parking garage:

This is of course the notorious “Texas Doughnut,” a mid-rise residential liner wrapped around interior structured parking.  The product of on-site parking requirements and building codes which permit cheaper wood framing for lower-rise buildings, these structures have proliferated throughout the Sunbelt, though they can be found, with less frequency, outside that geographic range. To the extent these cities are experiencing urbanization near their centers (hello, Dallas), this is the form that urbanism frequently takes, for better or worse.

Despite the prominence of the parking facilities and the transportation mode choices that suggests, note that many residents are required to walk non-trivial distances to reach their vehicles. In some cases, the walk may actually exceed three minutes for some residents.

In debates about parking in urban areas, pricing and availability tend to garner the majority of the attention, with proximity only a secondary concern (although many complaints about these first two issues implicitly involve proximity). Similarly, attempts to reduce reliance on the car through parking reform have tended to focus on eliminating or reducing parking maximums or establishing a market pricing mechanism for parking spaces, rather than considering the location of the vehicle itself.

It should be common sense, though, that in an otherwise reasonably walkable area with some transit options, the further the car is from one’s residence, the less use that car is likely to receive, since transportation is above all a matter of immediate convenience.
Charlie’s third installment discusses the challenges of building a municipal parking garage to boost a retail district, when all of the focus is on a handful of on-street spaces:
Washington Street itself offers only 22 spaces, in comparison to the over 1,000 public garage spaces in close proximity, plus many hundreds more in public and private surface lots. Although these spaces only supply a tiny fraction of the total, by their conspicuousness they play an outsized role, inducing many motorists to circle the block several times in hopes of winning the parking lottery, rather than simply proceeding to one of the garages.
The desire of merchants to compete with suburban shopping malls (easy, plentiful, cheap), contrasted with the spatial constraints of streetscapes planned well before the rise of the automobile results in “a parking policy at war with itself,”

“Hyperdensity” and providing cities the room to grow

CC image from Alan Grinberg

The first thing crossing my mind when reading Vishann Chakrabarti’s piece in Design Observer (Building Hyperdensity and Civic Delight) was: what the hell is ‘hyperdensity?’ Thankfully, Chakrabarti answers that question in the first paragraph: “density sufficient to support subways.”

The second thing to cross my mind was why he would frame a reasonable kind of urbanism – transit-supportive density – in such extreme terms? Chakrabarti is a principal at SHoP Architects and a professor at Columbia. Hearing someone in that position praise the very real benefits of density isn’t surprising, though the framing of the issue as ‘hyper’-anything seems naive in the face of neighborhood opposition to even minor changes like the allowance of accessory dwelling units.

Contrast Chakrabarti’s position to that of Brent Toderian. Toderian, formerly the chief planner in Vancouver, BC, is a veteran of many contentious civic battles over development and density. His calling card is to focus on mitigating any possible downside of density, re-branding the ideal as ‘density done well.’ Leaving aside any substantive differences between Toderian and Chakrabarti, the difference in framing is significant. Both praise the benefits of density for an urban economy, for climate change, and for city life; both agree that dense environments demand good design to address the challenges that density can present. Yet, Toderian emphasizes that it can be ‘done well’ (implying that it currently isn’t done well) while Chakrabarti emphasizes the need for more density (implying that we don’t currently have – or allow – enough of it).

Chakrabarti isn’t satisfied with the small-scale focus from current planners, and embraces the general focus of the econourbanists:

Today the global economy demands that we embrace large buildings not just for housing but also for many modern office functions; yet many planning professionals remain fixated on smaller-scale development. They tend to ignore that height limitations have held back the Parisian economy in comparison to the forward-looking redevelopment of London, both at Canary Wharf and within its city center, which is now marked by a series of glistening and respectful new towers by Norman Foster, Richard Rogers and Renzo Piano. There is, in fact, a marked correlation between those European cities that have allowed skyscrapers and those that have successful economies.

Chakrabarti also mentions the challenges of building denser cities in today’s regulatory environment of zoning codes and lengthy reviews, risk-aversion from incumbent residents and landowners, and the feasibility of adding new infill development into established neighborhoods without fundamentally altering their character.

Perhaps the single most compelling reason to act is the growing challenges of affordability. This Wall Street Journal article highlights the challenges in New York, quoting Professor Chakrabarti extensively:

In the coming decades, New York could confront a problem many cities would love to have: too many people and nowhere to put them.

The city is expected to add one million more residents by 2040, but there likely won’t be room for hundreds of thousands of them unless a small city of new housing is built, according to a report by a Columbia University think tank.

“What surprised me most was the scale of the problem,” Mr. Chakrabarti said. “It’s a clarion call that we don’t have enough housing.”

At the same time, plenty of other publications about affordability challenges in cities around the world do not even mention the restrictions on and challenges to add housing supply.  At the same time, the fact that many American cities used to have more people residing in the same area will lead them to believe that the city can accomodate more people without exanding the city’s building stock. The reality is that those older population figures included larger household sizes and fail to account for housing stock lost to commercial development from expanding downtowns. Payton Chung looks into these claims for DC:

These conditions were common in District homes at the time. The 1950 census found 14.1% of the District’s 224,142 occupied housing units to be overcrowded (with >1 person per room). By 2011, that figure had fallen two-thirds, to 4.7% (an increase from 3.3% in 2008) — a figure lower than the 5.3% of homes that were extremely overcrowded (>1.5 occupants per room) in 1950.

On average, every apartment and house in DC had one more person living inside — households were 50.2% larger! In 1950, 3.2 people occupied each dwelling unit (for non-whites, it was 4.0). In 2007-2011, the number of persons per household had fallen to 2.13, while the number of housing units had grown to 298,902.

As the city gets reacquainted with the notion of population growth, and begins to plan for a much larger population within the same boundaries, we’ll have to have a realistic conversation about household sizes and housing production. A change of just 0.09 persons per household means the difference between planning for 103,860 units or 140,515 units.* In either case, though, that is one heck of a lot of construction for a city of 68 square miles, of which 10.5 are parks and 7 are underwater. It works out to 2,000-3,000 additional units per square mile — as simple as building a platform and plop 5 DUA suburbia across it, or as complicated as infilling a contentious, built-up city. (More the latter than the former, I suspect.)

That problem can’t be solved with just a few new mega-development sites absorbing all of the demand for urban growth. It requires existing neighborhoods to help absorb some of that demand.

At the same time, Chakrabarti is well aware of the regulatory challenges to merely allowing the market to add density to an already-established city:

At Columbia University, my students and I have been working on a concept I call “cap and trade zoning,” which would allow the free flow of air rights within an urban district, with an understanding that the overall amount of developable area would be capped in relation to proximity to mass transit. This would result in hyperdensity, to be sure, but would also create a “high-low” city of diverse heights, uses and ages. This concept would strengthen small businesses by permitting owners to sell their air rights, while allowing development to occur on nearby lots. Critics may argue that this approach would result in unpredictable development with varying building scales, to which I would reply “Hip hip hooray!” Much of what passes as good planning today is known as “contextual zoning,” a mechanism through which new architecture is tamed into mediocrity by mimicking a false understanding of the scale and aesthetics of existing neighborhoods. Too often this process allows a lowest-common-denominator mentality to trump the wonders of the unpredictable city. Half a century ago, in The Death and Life of Great American CitiesJane Jacobs relentlessly critiqued the planner’s urge for control; her critique is no less pertinent today.

The concept is good, but what remains to be seen is if it could pass the political test – and if it could adjust the regulatory process (not just the regulatory content) that governs urban development decision-making. Perhaps the first test of the political viability of ‘hyperdensity’ will be if the name helps advance the needed regulatory reforms.

Crowdfunding and cooperatives – more thoughts on Fundrise and alternative models for urban development and finance

CC image from harrypope

Following up on the previous post on the limits and potential benefits of Fundrise:

First, from Payton Chung, an excellent breakdown of the limits and potential benefits of the crowdfunding platform. Payton identifies three general benefits to a Fundrise-like system: ‘slower’ and cheaper money; participation and trust of the investors; and as an opening for even better investment vehicles.

The idea of ‘slower’ money refers to the more patient investment from Class C shareholders who cannot realistically expect a quick flip or immediate return. Such patient capital is particularly useful when navigating projects that do not follow the path of least regulatory resistance – as Payton notes, slower money “eases longer-term thinking about the investment.”

Participation and trust speak to the idea of channeling broad-but-shallow support for development from a mostly silent pool of the community (potentially representing a silent majority). Payton notes that some local control helps gain support, but that support is not limitless. I would liken it to the disparate treatment of chain stores and restaurants compared to locally owned ones. The local retailers might gain more support than a chain, but that support is far from universal or far from guaranteed.

Transitioning to better investment vehicles requires more than just what Fundrise is offering – not just for development, but for long–term ownership and stewardship. Payton cites co-ops as an example:

Fundrise is certainly a great idea, but the lack of community control limits its ability to establish trust in the community development enterprise. Yet it’s an important part of a broader conversation that’s just beginning around using crowdfunding innovations to improve communities. We can try many other tools — some new, some tried-and-true — to give communities greater control and input over their character and future. Cooperative businesses, like the one I founded, are growing all across America, and they play a key role in affordably housing thousands of Washingtonians (including myself).

Second, the idea of an increasing role for cooperatives is linked to the second article: an update on the status of DC’s mandatory inclusionary zoning statute from Aaron Wiener at the City Paper.

The code requires the provision of subsidized housing units for all developments above a certain size. However, in for-sale properties, the requirement to preserve long-term affordability in the units requires some sort of deed restriction to prevent the later sale of a unit at market rates. This both limits the long-term appreciation of the property, but also makes traditional mortgage-based finance difficult. Such a program for preserving long-term affordability might be at odds with the traditional model of housing finance and home ownership. Wiener writes:

The central difficulty in selling the units has been that lenders were unwilling to provide loans for IZ units because those units would remain affordable in the event of foreclosure, limiting the bank’s ability to recoup its money. But recently, the rules changed to allow the units to return to market prices.

Purchasers of affordable units have issues with the system, as well. Cooperative ownership (both market-rate and limited equity) might present a better way to manage permanently affordable units.