I’ve long been convinced that, even in frigid Prairie Canada, where I live, pedestrian-oriented urban design is the only way to go.
Too much of my city is a barren wasteland, from a pedestrian perspective, because the last 50 years have been devoted to making things easier and easier for the car.
Perversely, we built a gigantic new box mall (just as they’re going out of style) with humongous parking lots — only to cry and complain about the traffic chaos it generated. Oh, and did I mention that the parking lot was designed so that buses couldn’t turn into it?
Now, to alleviate that chaos, we’re in the midst of a multi-year campaign to double the traffic capacity to and from that mall.
It’s been a multi-year mess, and this summer has been the worst.
But even when it’s complete, although it might make for a smoother drive, I don’t think the new roads and big, expansive intersections will actually make the city any better.
I point, for example, to this wonderful post about what freeways (and the iconic Arch) did to poor St. Louis:
Cities generate wealth by bringing large numbers of people into proximity with one another. Two adjacent high-density neighborhoods will be richer than either could be alone because businesses at the edge of each neighborhood will be enriched by pedestrian traffic from the other. Driving a freeway through the middle of a healthy urban neighborhood not only destroys thousands of homes, it rips apart tightly integrated neighborhoods. Pedestrians rarely walk across freeways, so businesses near a new freeway are immediately deprived of half their customers. Similarly, residents near a new freeway lose access to half the businesses near them. The area along the freeway becomes what Jacobs calls a “border vaccuum” and goes into a kind of death spiral: because it contains little pedestrian traffic, businesses there don’t succeed. And because there are no interesting businesses there, even fewer people go there, which hurts the sales of businesses further from the freeway. The harms from such a freeway extends for blocks on either side.
Where I live isn’t “high-density urban” by any stretch of the imagination — we’re a fairly smallish service centre for the tiny towns that surround us. But I think you could make a case that our relationship with these bedroom communities is similar to that of a large city’s downtown with its suburbs.
Blogger Timothy Lee has a number of other posts where he re-examines urban neighbourhoods in the light of classic Jane Jacobs. They’re worth the read.











