The Oregonian podcast Beat Check recently shared an episode titled \"A Perilous Moment for Portland Mass Transit\" in which it highlighted the growing crisis facing TriMet, Portland's regional transit agency, as it grapples with declining ridership, financial strain, and public perception challenges. While crime on the system has dropped since the pandemic, fare evasion has nearly doubling from 15 percent in 2016 to close to 30 percent in 2024. The agency is pushing for an increase in the payroll tax that funds transit, from 0.1 to 0.18 percent, but even with that, they project having to cut 34 of 78 bus lines by 2027 and potentially 51 by 2031. This scenario risks setting off a doom loop where reduced service leads to declining ridership, which in turn justifies further cuts.
As someone who rides TriMet relatively frequently, I recognize that some perceptions about safety may be overstated today, but the past several years have left a lasting impression on families like mine. Judging by the results of TriMet's 2024 Attitude & Awareness Survey, our perceptions were from from being outliers:
About 46% of those surveyed said personal safety concerns have kept them from riding MAX at times, with about 37% saying they had opted out of a bus trip due to concerns. The primary reason people felt unsafe while riding was “other riders’ behavior.” The second reason was “lack of Transit Police” and the third was “time of day.”
As a parent of two young children, our experiences on buses and trains in the wake of the pandemic included exposure to public drug use, verbal outbursts, and threatening behavior—situations I never wanted my kids to be around. I’ve worked in affordable housing and can talk to my children about homelessness in honest and age-appropriate ways, but there is a big difference between those conversations and having your family caught in volatile, unsafe moments on public transit. Even trips to kid-friendly places like the zoo became daunting.
The podcast effectively outlines TriMet’s financial challenges and how shifts like remote work and micromobility have changed travel behavior, but it doesn’t fully address a major barrier to restoring ridership: land use. Suburban MAX stations surrounded by parking and low-density development do little to support daily transit use beyond park-and-ride commuting.
To rebuild trust and ridership, Portland must focus on increasing density near stations, especially with mixed-use development that includes a heavy focus on grocery stores and other basic services at—not just near—transit stations. These changes would make it more practical for people to give up car dependence.
The Climate-Friendly and Equitable Communities (CFEC) Executive Order could be pivotal here, especially if it helps cities reframe priorities away from parking and toward walkable, transit-oriented living. Similarly, relaxing BOLI standards that have long hindered development above 5 stories, as well as temporarily suspending system development charges, could go a long way toward creating thousands of new housing units in close proximity to fast and frequent transit that should translate into increases in ridership.
TriMet is making strides in both land use and safety, and I hope it can escape drastic cuts to service in the coming years.
","date_published":"2025-05-06T21:22:00.000Z","title":"The Future of Portland Transit Hangs in the Balance","image":"https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1720117302990-59dcbe5af56a?crop=entropy&cs=tinysrgb&fit=max&fm=jpg&ixid=M3wxMTc3M3wwfDF8c2VhcmNofDF8fHBvcnRsYW5kJTIwbWF4fGVufDB8fHx8MTc2MTIwNjcxOXww&ixlib=rb-4.1.0&q=80&w=2000"},{"id":"68f96166de54c1000143045f","url":"https://sync.afterword.blog/blog/portland-auditor-releases-progress-report-for-residential-infill-project","summary":"In 2017, after about a decade in the affordable housing and community development industry, my career took a turn and I landed in a position as a long range planner in the Portland region. One of the very first projects I worked on was codifying and adopting changes related to Oregon Senate Bill 1051 of 2017. SB 1051 required communities with more than 10,000 people to remove certain barriers to housing production, including giving regulated affordable housing projects priority in the land use","content_html":"In 2017, after about a decade in the affordable housing and community development industry, my career took a turn and I landed in a position as a long range planner in the Portland region. One of the very first projects I worked on was codifying and adopting changes related to Oregon Senate Bill 1051 of 2017.
SB 1051 required communities with more than 10,000 people to remove certain barriers to housing production, including giving regulated affordable housing projects priority in the land use decisions by limiting the timeline for approval to 100 days. The bill went on to define all housing types as \"needed housing,\" requiring all land use and design requirements related to housing be \"clear and objective\". This had the effect of outlawing subjectivity in the approval process. While many planners already aspired to remove barriers to housing production, they were limited by local politics. SB 1051 gave planning departments cover--particularly this in higher income communities--to implement needed changes.
Hot on the heals of SB 1051, Oregon became the first state in the U.S. to effectively eliminate single-family zoning with the passage of House Bill 2001 (HB 2001). This groundbreaking law required cities with over 10,000 residents to allow duplexes on all residential lots previously zoned for single-family homes, and for cities with over 25,000 residents, including all of Metro Portland, the law went even further, mandating the allowance of triplexes, fourplexes, and cottage clusters.
The goal was to increase housing diversity, improve affordability, and combat urban sprawl by enabling more middle housing options in established neighborhoods. Now that several years have passed, the effects of this policy on housing production, affordability, and neighborhood dynamics are becoming clearer, offering a critical look at how statewide zoning reform shapes the housing landscape.
Portland’s Residential Infill Project (RIP), finally adopted in 2020 after many years of planning and setbacks, was a landmark zoning reform aimed at increasing housing options and affordability in the city‘s single-family neighborhoods. By allowing for duplexes, triplexes, fourplexes, and cottage clusters on previously single-dwelling lots, the policy sought to address Portland’s housing shortage and promote more diverse, walkable communities. Now, several years in, the real-world impacts of these changes are coming into focus.
Some interesting data and considerations from the Portland City Auditor's monitoring report on Middle Housing in Single-Dwelling Zones, Progress Report 2018-2024.
While middle housing is much needed and has provided 1400 more units between 2021 and 2024, most of these units are still out of reach of median income families. For example, the average closing price for middle housing units was $614,223 in 2024, which would require over double the median income cited ($213k+).
That said, smaller units are being produced at a higher rate since RIP's adoption (500-1500 sq ft) and are averaging below 500k. The most common size seeking SDC exemptions was 2 bedroom, 750-999 sq ft.
Between the PHB tax incentives for moderate income homebuyers and the SDC exemptions, developers were able to produce more sub-500k units. Approximately 868 units participated in one or the other program, while 251 of those units qualified for both programs between 2018 and 2024.
Middle income units were $250-300k less on average than attached units. Despite this, they have a higher cost per square foot, which is to be expected.
PHB's sale price limit is $455k, which is presumably affordable to those making 120% AMI. However, by my math, a 455k loan requires ~$172k in income when assuming 1% property tax (which the auditor used) and $450 in other monthly liabilities, which is a low assumption. This drops to about 141k in income required under normal underwriting guidelines with the tax abatement - a HUGE advantage. So without the tax abatement, even these smaller units are unaffordable to median income families unless they are debt free.
","date_published":"2025-02-07T00:00:00.000Z","title":"Portland Auditor Releases Progress Report for Residential Infill Project","image":"https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1587590102356-3b3454479809?crop=entropy&cs=tinysrgb&fit=max&fm=jpg&ixid=M3wxMTc3M3wwfDF8c2VhcmNofDE4fHxwb3J0bGFuZHxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NjExNzM5NTV8MA&ixlib=rb-4.1.0&q=80&w=2000"},{"id":"68f9c529de54c100014304a6","url":"https://sync.afterword.blog/blog/the-myth-of-the-walkable-corner-store","summary":"For decades, planners have envisioned small, pedestrian-friendly commercial hubs within residential neighborhoods. A local café, a small grocery store, or a retail shop embedded in a walkable area where people can meet their neighbors and run errands without driving. This concept is central to the growing 15-minute city movement, which aims to create neighborhoods where residents can access daily essentials—jobs, schools, parks, groceries—within a short walk or bike ride. As a leader in progres","content_html":"For decades, planners have envisioned small, pedestrian-friendly commercial hubs within residential neighborhoods. A local café, a small grocery store, or a retail shop embedded in a walkable area where people can meet their neighbors and run errands without driving. This concept is central to the growing 15-minute city movement, which aims to create neighborhoods where residents can access daily essentials—jobs, schools, parks, groceries—within a short walk or bike ride.
As a leader in progressive planning policies, Oregon‘s statewide land use planning program embraced this vision as early as the 1970s. The Land Conservation and Development Commission (LCDC) adopted the first 14 Statewide Planning Goals in 1974. Goal 9 mandated that local governments ensure adequate land availability for various economic activities essential to the well-being of Oregon citizens. This includes planning for commercial developments that serve local communities. Goal 12 required cities and counties to develop Transportation System Plans (TSPs) that promote public transit, biking, and walking as alternatives to car travel. It also encourages compact, mixed-use development to reduce travel distances. Nearly a quarter century ago now, ODOT and DLCD released the Commercial and Mixed-Use Development Code Handbook. So these ideas are far from new.
These statewide planning goals and best practices led many municipalities to zone some corner lots and corridors as neighborhood commercial and mixed use districts with the expectation that, as density increased, small businesses would emerge to serve local needs.
More recently, Oregon‘a Climate Friendly and Equitable Communities rules eliminated parking minimums in areas within a half-mile of frequent transit, making it easier to build housing and commercial uses without dedicating space to cars. Planners hope these changes will help create the walkable, mixed-use communities they have been designing on paper for decades.
Yet, despite these efforts, the small corner grocery store remains elusive. While convenience stores persist and often are the only source of food accessible by foot in many neighborhoods, these establishments don’t typically offer many healthful food options. Pricing can also be predatory. Absent a gas station or convenience store, land designated for commercial uses can sit vacant for years and is sometimes rezoned for housing when the market fails to support retail. Former residential districts rezoned for commercial can even limit what homeowners can do with their legal, non-conforming residential buildings while communities wait for commercial uses that may never materialize. The disconnect between zoning theory and economic reality is stark.
The failure of small-scale retail to materialize is not simply the result of zoning or a lack of density. It is the product of larger economic forces that have made neighborhood commercial development difficult to sustain.
For much of the twentieth century, small grocers and independent retailers thrived because they occupied a secure place in the supply chain. That changed when antitrust laws like the Robinson-Patman Act of 1936 were weakened, allowing big-box retailers to negotiate bulk discounts that independent stores could not match. Large grocery chains expanded. E-commerce reshaped shopping habits. Many daily errands that once required a short walk to the store now happen through delivery services or at a supermarket on the drive home.
Even in neighborhoods that could theoretically support small-scale retail, developers hesitate to build it. A café or market must survive on razor-thin margins while competing with national supply chains and online convenience. Meanwhile, housing remains a far safer investment, making it the default choice for vacant commercial parcels.
The 15-minute city movement has gained traction as planners and advocates push for more complete neighborhoods. However, transforming suburban areas built for cars into walkable communities is not an overnight process. Decades of land use decisions have prioritized large-format retail and auto-oriented infrastructure, making it difficult for small businesses to compete. Neighborhood-scale retailers no longer develop their own buildings but instead rely on the market of existing commercial real estate, which has increasingly become centralized in large shopping centers or in auto-dominated strip malls, sometimes far from transit.
Even in places with progressive zoning policies, many of these barriers persist. Developers often lack financial incentives to take a risk on small retail. Many communities remain tethered to a suburban pattern of development that cannot be undone with zoning reform alone.
Developers sometimes pay lip service to the commercial requirements of mixed use properties in order to gain certain incentives. For example, by providing a small retail space, a developer might gain tax advantages or density bonuses knowing that it may ultimately be used as a leasing office or live-work unit it if goes unleased for a neighborhood oriented commercial use.
This process will take time. Planners working in established suburban areas recognize that meaningful change may take decades. While cities and counties can remove barriers and create more flexibility, true mixed-use, walkable communities will require a broader shift in economic policy, infrastructure investment, and consumer behavior. Finally, it will take bold and creative action from transit and other land-owning public agencies to forge public-private partnerships that prioritize creating places worth caring about instead of places for people to park their cars.
For all the focus on zoning reform, the economic structure that once made corner stores viable has largely disappeared. The elimination of parking minimums and the expansion of mixed-use zoning have removed most land use barriers for developers, but these tools alone cannot create a market where one does not already exist.
If cities want to bring back neighborhood-scale retail, they will need to do more than zone for it. They will need policies and incentives that actively support small businesses. They will need to rethink the structural advantages given to large retailers. They will need long-term investment in transit and pedestrian infrastructure. Land use restrictive covenants adopted by HOAs will need to be made unenforceable by new laws.
Until these shifts happen, the corner store will remain an idea that planners and urbanists believe in, but one the market does not.
","date_published":"2025-01-29T07:19:00.000Z","title":"The Myth of the Walkable Corner Store","image":"https://lowvelocity.org/content/images/2025/10/DSCF7312.jpeg"},{"id":"68f9ed45de54c1000143064f","url":"https://sync.afterword.blog/blog/unraveling-urbanism-housing-advocacy-and-the-battle-for-better-cities","summary":"Land use planning has always faced scrutiny, but in recent years, the conversation has grown louder and more polarized. Social media and digital activism have brought more voices into the debate, leading to important discussions but also fueling misunderstandings about what planners do and the forces that shape our cities. Like many in my field, I became a planner to help create better places. In fact, very few of us enter the planning profession to defend outdated zoning, reinforce sprawl, or","content_html":"Land use planning has always faced scrutiny, but in recent years, the conversation has grown louder and more polarized. Social media and digital activism have brought more voices into the debate, leading to important discussions but also fueling misunderstandings about what planners do and the forces that shape our cities.
Like many in my field, I became a planner to help create better places. In fact, very few of us enter the planning profession to defend outdated zoning, reinforce sprawl, or entrench car dependency. My goal has always been to foster communities that are more sustainable, connected, and livable. Despite this, planners often find themselves in the crossfire between deeply entrenched interests and advocacy groups. Some accuse us of blocking development. Others blame us for the very housing shortages they want to solve. The reality is that planners do not set the rules. We work within a political system where elected officials make the final decisions.
Balancing neutrality with the desire to advocate for better places is not always easy. Anti development groups fight to keep things the same. Pro housing voices demand urgent reform. Both frustrations land on planners, even when the challenges we face are driven by forces far beyond our control.
For decades, suburban expansion shaped American cities. Federal policies encouraged low density sprawl, while zoning laws blocked housing diversity. Redlining and white flight deepened racial and economic divides. By the late twentieth century, many communities fought density to protect exclusivity and home values. Zoning became a tool for restriction rather than growth.
While rooted in earlier advocacy, a counter movement took shape in the 2010s. The Yes in My Backyard movement, or YIMBYs, pushed back against restrictive zoning and car centric planning. They championed denser housing, transit oriented development, and walkable neighborhoods. With social media and grassroots organizing, YIMBYs challenged policies that had constrained housing supply for decades.
Their advocacy, while necessary, sometimes oversimplifies planning’s role. I have seen growing hostility from YIMBY voices toward planners, even in cities that are working toward the very changes they demand. Many seem to misunderstand that planners do not have free rein. We research, analyze, and recommend policy shifts, but local governments set the course. Planning is a long game, constrained by laws, budgets, and political will.
By some estimates, there are nearly 35,000 municipalities engaged in planning in the United States. The system is fragmented and deeply local. The idea that planners wield unchecked power ignores the reality of local governance. Still, I understand the frustration. Change is slow, and the stakes are high. Housing costs continue to rise. Infrastructure remains car dependent. Outdated zoning laws persist.
What is ironic is that while YIMBYs criticize planners, their activism strengthens the case for the very policies many planners support. Those of us working in local government cannot always be public advocates. We frame policy discussions, craft alternatives, and shape decisions, but we do not make the final call. Many planners welcome the push from YIMBYs because it gives elected officials cover to approve bolder policies.
Yet planners remain an easy scapegoat. At public meetings and online, we take heat from all sides. It comes with the job. Most of us gave up utopian visions early in our careers. Still, it can feel misplaced. Many of us root for reform from behind the scenes, even as we sit quietly behind the dais.
As the YIMBY movement has grown, the term urbanist has become a catch all for anyone interested in cities. It once referred to planners, architects, and designers working to improve urban form. Now it includes cycling advocates, transit enthusiasts, and social media influencers. Some of this is good. The movement needs broad support. But much of the online conversation lacks depth.
Urbanist debates often mirror those in popular psychology. Just as TikTok has given rise to self help gurus, urbanism has found its way into bite sized infographics and viral slogans. Five signs your city is failing. The real reason traffic is worse. Why parking minimums are killing your town. These posts can be helpful, but they rarely capture the complexity of policy change.
That said, planners have done little to control the narrative. The profession remains filled with aging bureaucrats who are slow to adapt to modern platforms. While some have broken through, like City Nerd and The Happy Urbanist, most planning discussions still happen in committee meetings, journal articles, and dry conference panels. Meanwhile, YIMBYs and self proclaimed urbanists are shaping public perception of what planning is, and often, what it is not.
For all the arguments about density, car dependency, and zoning reform, one fact remains clear. Sprawl is expensive. Low density development costs more to maintain. New infrastructure subsidizes old suburban systems, creating a financial cycle that many cities cannot sustain. Urbanists often describe this as a Ponzi scheme.
Yet even in places like Portland, where zoning allows for greater density, the market does not always respond as expected. Development follows economic trends, financing realities, and local politics. The idea that zoning changes alone will transform cities overnight ignores the deeper structural barriers at play.
Developers are still building housing with abundant parking, even next to our light rail system, despite Oregon’s policy eliminating parking minimums within a half-mile of transit. I am also seeing prime land used for low-rise, four-story buildings when zoning allows for far greater height. This often happens because federal Davis-Bacon prevailing wage requirements make taller buildings significantly more expensive for nonprofits that receive federal funds from sources such as the HOME and Low-Income Housing Tax Credit programs. As a former affordable housing professional and current advocate, I see these patterns all the time. Many YIMBYs push for density without fully understanding the financial and regulatory forces that shape what actually gets built. While I do want restrictive planning to get out of the way, the market is extremely complicated.
YIMBYs often argue that the higher costs of urban living are balanced by lower spending on cars, as if choosing a denser lifestyle is simply a matter of preference. In reality, many people have little choice at all. High housing costs push them to the edges of cities. Job locations force long commutes. School closures eliminate walkable options. Daycares end up wherever they can find space. Limited transit leaves few alternatives. Decades of car-centric development have made sprawl the default, not a conscious choice.
Even in cities like Portland, where density is encouraged, housing costs remain high, leading to gentrification and neighborhoods that few can afford. Zoning reform has made way for denser housing, yet the market has been slow to deliver it at the scale needed. More housing and transit options are essential, but too often, YIMBYs mistake necessity for preference and overlook the deeper economic forces at play. Expanding supply alone does not guarantee affordability when land values, wages, and market pressures remain unchanged.
The rise of online urbanism has done more than elevate land use debates. It has created a new wave of advocates who challenge outdated policies and push for smarter development. But slogans and hashtags are not enough. Real change takes time. Political structures move slowly. The path to better cities requires both vision and patience.
Planners know this better than anyone. We work within a system designed to resist sudden change. That does not mean change is impossible. It means the process is messy, layered, and often frustrating.
The most effective urbanism is not about winning arguments online. It is about showing up to city meetings, engaging local officials, and working within the constraints that exist. It is about shifting policies one step at a time while recognizing that progress does not happen overnight.
There is no perfect city. No single reform will solve everything. But the work continues, and planners, whether seen or unseen, will keep moving it forward.
","date_published":"2024-12-08T19:55:00.000Z","title":"Unraveling Urbanism: Housing, Advocacy, and the Battle for Better Cities","image":"https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1465447142348-e9952c393450?crop=entropy&cs=tinysrgb&fit=max&fm=jpg&ixid=M3wxMTc3M3wwfDF8c2VhcmNofDF8fGhpZ2h3YXlzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc2MTIwOTY5Mnww&ixlib=rb-4.1.0&q=80&w=2000"},{"id":"68fab15ce70191000162edc4","url":"https://sync.afterword.blog/blog/rereading-jane-jacobs-reflections-on-the-death-and-life-of-great-american-cities","summary":"I recently finished rereading Jane Jacobs’ The Death and Life of Great American Cities. It wasn’t my first encounter with the book. I first read it in graduate school over 15 years ago. At the time, it was eye-opening. I wasn’t particularly familiar with the planning profession then, beyond a vague desire to make places better—a motivation that probably leads many people into the field. Having grown up in Saginaw, Michigan, I witnessed firsthand the fallout of deindustrialization. The once-thri","content_html":"I recently finished rereading Jane Jacobs’ The Death and Life of Great American Cities. It wasn’t my first encounter with the book. I first read it in graduate school over 15 years ago. At the time, it was eye-opening. I wasn’t particularly familiar with the planning profession then, beyond a vague desire to make places better—a motivation that probably leads many people into the field.
Having grown up in Saginaw, Michigan, I witnessed firsthand the fallout of deindustrialization. The once-thriving city was marked by vacancies, crumbling infrastructure, and a declining tax base. As a kid, I often daydreamed about living in a place with vibrancy and life—something Saginaw lacked. Later, as I became more aware of the systemic forces that shaped my hometown, I started to ask deeper questions: Why was it like this? Could it have been avoided?
When I was introduced to urban planning, I naïvely thought planners were benevolent actors, fighting against the damage inflicted on industrial cities by the forces of capitalism. That’s why Jacobs’ critique of planners—delivered with unflinching candor—was so jarring to me. It challenged my core assumptions about the field. Her account of political figures like Robert Moses and the catastrophic decisions of mid-century planners was hard to digest. Projects like urban renewal, slum clearance, and highway construction—initiatives that were touted as progress—often caused irreparable harm, particularly to communities of color.
Jacobs exposed planning’s paternalistic streak, where decisions made “for the greater good” disregarded the lived experiences of the people most affected. Reading her work in the 2010s, it was almost offensive to me that this book was being used as an introduction to planning. It forced me to question whether this was the right field for me at all. Perhaps in that way the book was used in the most appropriate way possible.
After graduate school, I gravitated toward housing and community development, working with federal grants and local nonprofits at a state housing authority and later in local government. It was an enlightening experience and I got to work with some great people. I was a grant manager on several high profile projects in Detroit and later in Portland. After about 10 years, though, I grew frustrated with the limited impact I felt I was making. That led me back to land-use planning, where I stayed for another six years.
Over time, I came to realize that municipal planning is largely administrative. Grand visions and master planning? Those are often reserved for the private sector—or for architects, landscape architects, and engineers. My idealistic notions of planning as a transformative profession gradually gave way to a more measured understanding of its limits.
When I returned to Jacobs’ book recently, with more than 15 years of experience in community development and land-use planning behind me, her critiques resonated differently. I could see the validity of her skepticism toward the government’s ability to manage the countless complexities of urban life. At the same time, I found myself questioning her faith in the free market to deliver the kind of neighborhoods she championed.
Jacobs celebrated the organic development of neighborhoods like those in Boston and New York, where fine-grain commercial spaces and mixed-use buildings emerged seemingly without regulation. But modern development doesn’t happen that way. Today, large-scale developers dominate, creating projects that cater to automobiles rather than pedestrians. Even when new buildings mimic the façades of traditional urban neighborhoods, their functionality often falls short.
In my experience, small-scale developers who might build the kind of vibrant, walkable neighborhoods Jacobs loved are rare. Instead, large tracts of land are developed in ways that prioritize parking lots and inward-facing designs. Housing above retail—a hallmark of Jacobs’ ideal urban fabric—is almost nonexistent in new developments, especially in suburban areas.
In Portland’s suburbs, I see the opposite dynamic of my Michigan hometown. Here, rapid economic growth fueled by industries like tech and apparel has led to sprawling development that’s difficult to manage. Despite a relatively robust transit system, much of the land use still prioritizes cars. It’s hard not to feel that planners missed an opportunity to mold this region into something more human-scaled and accessible. While positive changes are being made and less auto-dominated development is occurring, much of it still feels like urban intensity of development and population density without urban levels of amenities.
As much as I respect Jacobs’ prose and the timelessness of some of her ideas, her lack of empirical evidence is striking. Her observations are compelling, but they rely heavily on anecdotes and personal experiences. It’s easy to criticize a book written half a century ago, but I wonder what Jacobs would think of today’s cities. Would she still be so critical of government programs, especially considering that some have been among the few examples of humanistic, dignity-centered development since her time?
Reading The Death and Life of Great American Cities again, I’m left with as many questions as answers. It’s a book that continues to challenge me, even after years of working in the field. Perhaps that’s its greatest strength—forcing us to reckon with the complexities of planning and reminding us that cities, like people, defy easy solutions.
","date_published":"2024-11-28T23:59:00.000Z","title":"Death and Life: Rereading Jane Jacobs and the Legacy of Good Intentions","image":"https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1737926536468-cd282fa0db47?crop=entropy&cs=tinysrgb&fit=max&fm=jpg&ixid=M3wxMTc3M3wwfDF8c2VhcmNofDM0fHxncmVlbndpY2glMjB2aWxsYWdlfGVufDB8fHx8MTc2MTI2MDI1N3ww&ixlib=rb-4.1.0&q=80&w=2000"},{"id":"68fb26f9e70191000162ef9b","url":"https://sync.afterword.blog/blog/despite-our-best-intentions-with-street-frontages","summary":"Automobiles are undeniably a significant part of American life. Consequently, accommodating them with roadways and parking lots has come to dominate much of the American built environment, often prioritizing convenience over aesthetics. In an effort to promote desirable outcomes like walkability and the revival of traditional commercial corridors, planners have tried to legislate specific design requirements. They can mandate that developers place parking lots behind buildings, construct structu","content_html":"Automobiles are undeniably a significant part of American life. Consequently, accommodating them with roadways and parking lots has come to dominate much of the American built environment, often prioritizing convenience over aesthetics. In an effort to promote desirable outcomes like walkability and the revival of traditional commercial corridors, planners have tried to legislate specific design requirements. They can mandate that developers place parking lots behind buildings, construct structures closer to the road, ensure a certain percentage of window frontage (fenestration), and provide doors and walkways accessible from the street—all to encourage pedestrian use.
However, we can’t compel businesses to utilize these spaces as intended. More often than not, a tenant’s main entrance remains on the side where vehicles are parked. It’s unfortunate that we can’t recreate authentic Main Streets anymore; most new developments are merely strip malls disguised as urbanism. Too often, the street-side entrances are closed off to pedestrians and \"this is not an entrance\" is all too common signage.
Take several examples from communities near me:
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n","date_published":"2024-11-27T00:00:00.000Z","title":"Despite Our Best Intentions with Street Frontages","image":"https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1529676468696-f3a47aba7d5d?crop=entropy&cs=tinysrgb&fit=max&fm=jpg&ixid=M3wxMTc3M3wwfDF8c2VhcmNofDE2fHxzaG9wJTIwZnJvbnR8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzYxMjkwMDc4fDA&ixlib=rb-4.1.0&q=80&w=2000"},{"id":"68fb1981e70191000162eeed","url":"https://sync.afterword.blog/blog/the-coming-war-on-impact-fees","summary":"The Supreme Court ruled Friday that developers and home builders in California may challenge the fees commonly imposed by cities and counties to pay for new roads, schools, sewers and other public improvements. The justices said these “impact fees” may be unconstitutional if builders and developers are forced to pay an unfair share of the cost of public projects. Los Angeles Times In a landmark decision on Friday, the Supreme Court of the United States ruled that developers and home builders in","content_html":"The Supreme Court ruled Friday that developers and home builders in California may challenge the fees commonly imposed by cities and counties to pay for new roads, schools, sewers and other public improvements. The justices said these “impact fees” may be unconstitutional if builders and developers are forced to pay an unfair share of the cost of public projects. Los Angeles Times
In a landmark decision on Friday, the Supreme Court of the United States ruled that developers and home builders in California have the right to challenge fees imposed by cities and counties to fund essential public infrastructure such as roads, schools, and sewers. The justices expressed concerns that these \"impact fees\" could be deemed unconstitutional if they unfairly burden developers with the lion's share of public project costs.
This ruling marks a crescendo in what proponents describe as \"market urbanism,\" a trend where public entities increasingly turn to market-based approaches to address urban challenges. Elected officials have recently gone to great lengths to accommodate developers in a bid to boost housing production, often at any cost. At a time when many communities can't afford to maintain the infrastructure they have, eliminating impact fees (system development charges) knee-caps cities' ability to improve pedestrian and bicycle infrastructure, maintain parks, and make other infrastructure improvements to support added housing units.
This is a train wreck in slow motion. Who, for example, defines what constitutes an \"unfair share\" of infrastructure expenses? Low-density sprawl costs the most to build and maintain – subsidized by higher intensity development in the central city.
In their efforts to sidestep protracted legal battles, it will be communities that end up bearing the brunt of compromises as they find themselves in this no-win situation.
For more information, check out this article from the National Association of Counties.
","date_published":"2024-04-15T23:51:00.000Z","title":"The Coming War on Impact Fees","image":"https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1560972686-6f4335c53e21?crop=entropy&cs=tinysrgb&fit=max&fm=jpg&ixid=M3wxMTc3M3wwfDF8c2VhcmNofDEzNHx8bWFuaG9sZSUyMGNvdmVyfGVufDB8fHx8MTc2MTI4Njc4MHww&ixlib=rb-4.1.0&q=80&w=2000"},{"id":"68fab3f5e70191000162eddb","url":"https://sync.afterword.blog/blog/overpromised-and-underdelivered-the-false-pretenses-of-missing-middle-housing-developers","summary":"ADUs, or Accessory Dwelling Units, are usually small housing units people build in their basements, backyards, or above their garages to accommodate family or to rent out for supplemental income. So-called “missing middle\" housing (from here on referred to Middle Housing) are all those housing types that are Goldilocks-sized, fitting in somewhere between single-family residences and larger multifamily buildings. These include cottage clusters, quadplexes, and other attached housing that have a h","content_html":"ADUs, or Accessory Dwelling Units, are usually small housing units people build in their basements, backyards, or above their garages to accommodate family or to rent out for supplemental income. So-called “missing middle\" housing (from here on referred to Middle Housing) are all those housing types that are Goldilocks-sized, fitting in somewhere between single-family residences and larger multifamily buildings. These include cottage clusters, quadplexes, and other attached housing that have a higher density than detached single-family homes. These home types have been in the news a lot the last decade or so and are often lauded as solutions to our housing affordability problems.
These unit types have become more popular in recent years and a growing number of cities have made them legal to build. ADUs are great because they often allow aging parents or grandparents to live onsite with their kids or grandkids while maintaining some semblance of independence and privacy. Still others use them as short-term rentals to supplement their incomes and make their own housing more affordable. Middle Housing products also make housing more affordable by allowing more people to get into homeownership or into previously out-of-reach neighborhoods at a cost that can be considerably less than detached single-family homes.
Yet while these housing products do provide greater housing options at more affordable prices, urbanist online publications like Strong Towns would have us believe that these types of housing are illegal in most places and like to craft a narrative that if only cities and towns would change their policies, all our walkable city and affordable housing dreams would come true. And while there are many suburban areas across the country that don’t allow Middle Housing types, you’d be hard pressed to find any large central city or older inner-ring suburb anywhere worth living that doesn’t allow these housing types, and ADUs are allowed most places in America today.
Overall, it’s a great thing. These types of homes used to be more widely available in the early 20th Century, but became illegal with the rise of suburban areas across the county in the post WWII era, likely as a way to zone out lower income people in an attempt to maintain property values. Now, they are much more widely accepted, with some states are even mandating that cities allow them, which has the biggest impact in wealthy areas that try to zone them out.
But even if the products themselves are a little bit more affordable than detached single-family homes, Middle Housing is frequently lauded as a silver bullet to our housing affordability crisis, which I just don’t believe to be true. In my eyes, while certainly necessary, they are just the socially acceptable alternative for many communities not willing to build or take on the level of urban density that is truly needed.
In the Pacific Northwest, for example, all of the big cities have allowed ADUs for decades, and Cities like Vancouver, Canada and Seattle, Washington are still some of the most expensive places to live in North America. Likewise, Oregon has legalized duplexes on any lot zoned for single family residential, and depending on the square footage of the lot, many properties can legally accommodate quadplexes. Oregon has even removed requirements for on-site parking for any property within 1/2 mile of a transit stop. But these cities don't allow apartment buildings above a certain height in most neighborhoods outside of their downtowns and certain commercial districts.
Furthermore, just allowing these housing types doesn’t mean that the market can or will build these products at levels that will have a meaningful impact on housing prices, particularly in areas of high demand on the coasts. Having worked at a municipality who processes these types of development applications, very few have come through and are actually in the pipeline.
Cities in North America need to get more comfortable with real density, like mid-rise and high-rise apartments and condos, because they are coming. The U.S. population in 1950 was less than half it is now and we cannot continue to accommodate that population in detached single-family homes in ever far-flung suburbs. Last I checked, we are not building many new cities from scratch, and people need to live somewhere.
Unfortunately, urban density gives Americans indigestion. Even so-called progressive places like Berkeley, California and Ann Arbor, Michigan are frequently in the news as their vocal residents come out to oppose new housing projects. Portlanders often lament “tear downs” in their neighborhoods - a phrase that means removing a traditional single-family residence to build higher density multifamily buildings. Berkeley was recently in the news after Cal started moving forward with student housing in a neighborhood park after years of protests from neighbors. This was so controversial that they stacked shipping containers at double height around the entire perimeter of the property as a safety measure.
But unlike conservative opposition, which is usually based in matters of income and class segregation, liberals more often use topics such as environmental protection, historic preservation, or neighborhood character as thinly-veiled arguments to maintain the status quo.
I understand people don't like change, but cities are dynamic places that need to adapt to our needs and change is on the horizon. Middle Housing, while one tool to assist in our housing woes, will never solve our housing affordability problems.
","date_published":"2024-01-12T23:20:00.000Z","title":"Overpromised and Underdelivered: the False Pretenses of Missing Middle Housing Developers","image":"https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1677458819229-bbec42e50ae5?crop=entropy&cs=tinysrgb&fit=max&fm=jpg&ixid=M3wxMTc3M3wwfDF8c2VhcmNofDg2fHxhcm1zdGVyZGFtJTIwaG91c2VzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc2MTI2MTIyMnww&ixlib=rb-4.1.0&q=80&w=2000"},{"id":"68f9bb95de54c1000143047d","url":"https://sync.afterword.blog/blog/what-planners-know-vs-what-planners-do","summary":"Why talk about what urban planners know instead of what they actually do? Because more often than not, those two things do not align. To understand that gap, it helps to look first at the system planners work within. Most planners in the United States work within one of the country’s 89,000 local governments, each with its own set of rules, politics, and funding constraints. It is a slow-moving system shaped by history, bureaucracy, and competing interests. It is frustrating and messy, sometime","content_html":"Why talk about what urban planners know instead of what they actually do? Because more often than not, those two things do not align. To understand that gap, it helps to look first at the system planners work within.
Most planners in the United States work within one of the country’s 89,000 local governments, each with its own set of rules, politics, and funding constraints. It is a slow-moving system shaped by history, bureaucracy, and competing interests. It is frustrating and messy, sometimes by design. Inside that system, the everyday work looks far less like visionary city-building and more like endless paperwork.
The day-to-day work of a planner is not glamorous. Many of us spend our days processing permits, reviewing site plans, and explaining the same zoning code sections to developers, realtors, and residents over and over again. We sit in countless meetings where ordinances are revised, debated, and revised again. We adopt land use changes based on new state or regional legal requirements that are sometimes deeply unpopular in our communities. And that's just the technical side of the job.
Beyond the paperwork, there is the public. We are shouted down at uncompensated night meetings with pleas from impassioned mothers or frustrated small business owners. We listen quietly to testimony about increased traffic congestion by the same person who vocally opposed the public transit bond. It's no wonder why so many of my planning school peers are no longer practicing planners. Burnout is real.
And yet, the biggest frustrations we face have little to do with the daily grind. For better or worse, we knew what we were signing up for. What frustrates us most is that much of the research about what makes communities successful, vibrant, and healthy places is already settled. Despite what we know from data, science, and best practices, planners are often asked to make recommendations that are ignored in favor of short-term political or financial decisions.
The projects many planners care about the most--such as expanding or improving sidewalks, bike lanes, transit, parks, affordable housing--depend on funding sources that are scarce or on decisions from leaders that are politically unpalatable. No planner can force a city to change its zoning code or fund infrastructure if its leaders or constituents oppose it. We are public servants who, despite expertise in our field, are ultimately beholden to political direction. In many communities, this reduces the role of planners to paper-pushers, stripped of creativity and public trust. Trying to set our own agenda risks being labeled as advocates--something many agencies discourage and that can even jeopardize a career. Even so, the profession continues to draw people who care deeply about their communities.
Of course, there is no such thing as a one-size-fits-all plan or code. Location, climate, local history, geography, and geology (to name only a few) all contribute to a city's character and success. Still, the impacts of land use and transportation planning decisions--on everything from housing affordability to happiness--is already well documented by existing research. That research is what keeps many planners engaged, because they see the world differently everywhere they go.
Most planners entered the profession because they wanted to make their communities better. We move through the world scanning streets, parks, and buildings for lessons, always asking how a place could function or feel better. We take mental notes from other cities when something works well, hoping to bring those ideas home. We read legal challenges and books about parking for fun. It's more than just a job. It's a lens through which we view the entirety of the world. It's with us everywhere we go. It's passion as much as affliction. And yet for all that passion, public debate still circles around short-term fixes instead of long-term truths.
So without further ado, below is a list of things planners know. Here are some of the strongest, evidence-based findings:
What planners know and what planners do will probably never fully align. The work will always be shaped by politics, budgets, and public opinion. But the research is clear and lessons are consistent. Our challenge (as well as our hope) is to keep finding ways to translate that knowledge into action, even when the system makes it difficult.
","date_published":"2024-01-04T23:16:00.000Z","title":"What Planners Know vs. What Planners Do","image":"https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1563818762628-9ac9e5c0b784?crop=entropy&cs=tinysrgb&fit=max&fm=jpg&ixid=M3wxMTc3M3wwfDF8c2VhcmNofDl8fGhpZ2glMjBsaW5lfGVufDB8fHx8MTc2MTIwMDU2N3ww&ixlib=rb-4.1.0&q=80&w=2000"}]}