What if the cars are not the problem? What if plug-in cars do away with pollution, and environmental degradation? What if the greatest challenge facing urban sustainability are the towers and the freeways—the permanent structures and public investments—rather than the cars? What if vehicular congestion is a symptom of bad urbanism, not a cause? Consider that the fleet changes over every 4 to 10 years making it possible to retrofit new clean technologies at a very fast rate. The taxi fleets has gone hybrid saving about 50% of costs and signalling a truly revolutionary change ahead. Towers and highways, on the other hand, will be with us for centuries to come inscribing patterns on the landscape and in our social circles that are much more difficult to break
There is good reason to hope that cars will go electric in the foreseeable future. Many government and business fleets run electric and hybrid vehicles. Besides savings in fuel cost maintenance is cheaper. There are fewer moving parts and less friction to wear out components. As a consequence, the vehicles last longer. The batteries are all recyclable.
The new ‘cool’ will be driving vintage low-emission vehicles.
The time is near when all transportation will run on renewable energy. For example, within the urban footprint some jurisdictions have not only given over street space for the exclusive use of transit, but they have converted trolleys and electric streetcars to handle freight off-peak. Not too far in the future our chief concern regarding automobiles may be the particulate pollution resulting from tire wear and breaking. Toronto claims that one line of transit has the capacity of 11 lanes of traffic. Thus, as we rethink the need for commuting in private vehicles, we will reshape the urban landscape.
However, that simply shifts the burden to the generation of clean electricity. The production of electricity from renewable resources is a topic we will return to in future posts.
Consider that towers are impossibly inefficient. The building form has its two smallest faces in exactly the wrong place: one is in contact with the earth, the other is facing the sky. The earth is a constant 10°C. First, by putting the largest side of the building in contact with the earth, we maximize passive heating and cooling. Second, the roof is the optimal place for collecting rain water; light and solar energy; weather proofing our buildings; and minimizing heat loss. Second, by putting the other largest side of the building facing the sky we maximize the opportunity for passive solar strategies, wind design and water collection.
Towers expose their four largest sides to the cardinal points, triggering uneven heating and cooling conditions. It is commonplace for one side of the tower to be calling for heat, as the other is calling for cooling no matter the season of the year. The greenhouse effect of glazing makes solar gain as problematic in winter as in summer. While off-balance cooling and heating in towers suggests a heat-exchange opportunity, mixing air from one building occupancy to the another runs into fire code restrictions. Finally, towers compound social problems presenting point-loads of hyper use. Commonplace issues like car storage, or waste management are magnified to untenable proportions by the concentration of units on one site. We have grown accustomed to burying garages deep underground, and installing massive systems to handle supply of water and energy, and the removal of waste. However, scaling up in these instances inflates costs, rather than generating economies of scale. Delivery of services above the 4th floor imposes localized inefficiencies in all systems. The tower dwellers are not the only ones paying for that. The community as a whole pays the bill for upkeep of civic infrastructure. The towers pass on the bill.
In comparison, the human-scale building is poised to offer it all: maximum contact with the earth; maximum exposure to the sky; ability to collect rain water from expansive roof surfaces; social interaction with the neighbourhood and the street; ground oriented units with private rear gardens; provision of front door yards for smaller suites; self-parking without underground garages; fee-simple ownership; openings easily fitted with passive-solar devices; and optimum conditions for social mixing.
In addition, the human-scale building presents a defining social characteristic: it becomes the building block—the base unit—for building quartiers that support social functioning; define walkable districts; and deliver safe, livable streets. Human scale buildings disperse density along the street and block pattern of the neighbourhood creating conditions with a long-standing tradition of delivering functioning social places. Here, tower supporters will cry foul asserting that tower districts are every bit as socially functioning as the human-scale counterpart. I just don’t buy that argument. While we see families in towers in Vancouver’s West End, despite its glorious geographical setting, one doesn’t observe the same level of children at play and families in action as in the walk-up apartment districts inside or outside the downtown, never mind the cottage lot areas. The tower zones seem to cater to a narrow demographic. Even though the walk-up apartments are a poor cousin to the fee-simple row house, the sense of community in these places is palpably stronger.
Of course, I invite comment from those taking an opposing view. Aside from citing runaway profit margins, I can find nothing quantifiable in the tower neighbourhoods recommending them for universal application. Besides, the environmental under-performance of the tower districts looms as the unsolvable riddle worsening as each decade passes. The claims that towers are more sustainable than suburban places just won’t hunt. In my analysis suburbia and tower districts are opposite extremes in the same, tired old urbanism. Thus, I foresee a decommissioning of the towers advancing more or less in step with the intensification of the suburbs. The pace of the process will no doubt vary according to regional, political and economic drivers. Yet, their demise is written on the wall awaiting a simple but fundamental shift in our urbanism.
If the car is symptom, rather than cause, then where shall we turn for solutions? As we contemplate the need to retrofit the North American suburb, we are discovering the low hanging fruit in the historic neighbourhoods ringing the urban core. There we see modelled our one recourse: to design our cities as generators of healthy living and social well-being. That is the paradigm shift confronting us today. We must choose between building ‘good’ urbanism or putting up with social, economic, and political disfunction.