Confessions of a Developer

Picture this...

A neighbourhood of single-family bungalows and young leafy trees. Lining the streets are kids (of all ages) pedaling to the corner store for their weekly dose of 5¢ candies. Does this image evoke anything for you? It should.

For a long time, this has been the ideal of what makes a neighbourhood great. As a society, we’ve cherished this and fought to protect it above all else. But, our effort to protect this ideal has inadvertently stripped away the very essence that makes these neighbourhoods special.

After all, it’s not the pitch of a roof or the spindle on a porch that gives our neighbourhoods character—it’s the characters themselves. The truth is, our province’s fleeing families (and dwindling kid population) are inextricably linked to our policy
decisions.

For those who know me, I like to go on some fairly lengthy Twitter* rants. As a developer, I bet you’re all anticipating what I’m going to say next: restrictive zoning—and lack of multi-family housing—has driven away the very people who make a community what it is. And... well, yes.

But it’s not the whole story.

It’s true that the type of housing we build plays a role in determining the types of characters we get and data tells us what’s working—and what’s not. But why should we care so much about children anyway? As a parent of three, I’d actually appreciate some kid-free time. But when it comes to design, I like to think of children as fascinating design surrogates. After all, what’s good for a kid is generally good for everybody else—like safe streets, green space, clean air, a place to call home and the freedom to be themselves.

This is why I like to use “kid generation scores,” or “housing-induced fertility,” to monitor the health and outcomes of our neighbourhoods.

Let me explain: between 2016 and 2021 in Victoria, we added 3,475 units and gained 580 children. That equates to one new child per six new dwellings. In high-rise towers, it can take as many as 28 units to generate one child, whereas ground- oriented buildings can produce one child per 1.26 units.

Zooming out to the West Shore—where we have seen tons of construction—7,685 new units were added, resulting in the addition of 2,075 kids. That means one net new kid was generated per 3.7 new dwellings. While they added a lot of kids, this increase came at the expense of urban sprawl, which has its own set of issues.

In Saanich and Oak Bay (which make up 81% of the core municipalities) 1,540 new units were added. Despite this, they lost 450 children. Let that sink in. That means one net kid was lost for every three new dwellings and almost half of these kids were lost from new apartment construction, which suggests new development is driving some displacement. Not great.

So what does this all tell us? That housing alone is not enough. Each of these areas added new homes, but none achieved a slam dunk in creating balanced neighbourhoods or demographics. There is no building type that seems to be the “magic bullet,” and there are downsides—and ultimately negative impacts—of our current development patterns, which concentrate density like a fire hose in only a few select locations.

So what’s the missing link? As Italian Politician Giuseppe Mazzini once said, “The past is the light that illuminates the future.” Sometimes, we must look backward to go forward. Historically, we built our cities with all necessary services in close proximity. We had to. Without modern transportation speeds, we didn’t have much of a choice. If we needed to get from point A to point B, we used public transit (like the streetcar) to get around. Neighbourhoods were designed around these networks.

Sounds nice, right? Well, in 1948, we got rid of it all.

With the streetcar gone, at least we still had zoning that enabled a variety of land uses. But, in 1982, we got rid of that, too. We took a bold step locally and downzoned almost all our residential areas to get rid of neighbourhood-level commercial spaces and multi-family housing, which generates the population intensity needed to support the small commercial spaces in the first place.

Take James Bay for example, a cherished Victoria neighbourhood that still shows remnants of its past, which significantly enhances neighbourhood quality. Something as simple as the corner store can do so much. But on that day in 1982, neighbourhood amenities like those shown above were essentially deemed illegal.

40 years later, we still feel the impacts of this decision to downzone. The "great neighbourhoods of the past" had mixed-use spaces—a critical but often overlooked element, which serves as the missing link. Today, we are fighting to reestablish this neighbourhood ecosystem by designing 15-minute cities—the holy grail for urban planners, where all essential services are within a 15-minute walk or bike ride.

Remember those kids? Our trusty design surrogates? Well, they aren’t biking in the streets to get ice cream anymore, because over 80% are now growing up in low amenity areas. When it comes to amenity metrics, you can measure all kinds of things. We once mapped Vancouver’s splash pads to kid generation scores, but you could measure parks, public pools—or, my personal favourite—cafés. If you can’t tell by now I spend a lot of time thinking about this: the “amenity richness” of a block, neighbourhood, city... and we’ve dreamt up some wild things along the way.

Like the “Twin Towers of Gonzales,” a boardwalk and brewery at Willows Beach, a public pool, climbing tower, pickleball and tennis courts at Beacon Hill Park and a drive-in hotel at Clover Point... which didn’t make us many friends.

But we also dreamt of a floating dock in the Gorge Waterway, which we built. The pilot was so successful that the City expanded their dock infrastructure and has named the area Gorge Marine Park.

Without these urban amenities, we end up with a regional amenity map that is quite starkly separating the have and the have-nots. This fragmentation of services means more time is spent traveling in cars, which leads to the need for extensive infrastructure, like a bridge from Downtown Victoria to Colwood. That’s why from here on out, I’m going to talk a lot more about Third Spaces.**

In sociology, the concept of the Third Space delineates social environments distinct from the traditional realms of home (First Space) and the workplace (Second Space). Third Spaces encompass a variety of locales such as cafés, community centers, corner stores... you get the idea. Third Spaces play a crucial role in fostering civil society, democracy, engagement and a profound sense of belonging.

Close your eyes and think about the defining Third Spaces of your childhood. What did they mean to you? How did they help you in cultivating community and defining who you are today? Mine was the 7-Eleven parking lot in Gordon Head, but as a kid, you work with what you’ve got.

We’ve made a tremendous amount of progress on residential housing reforms, which is fantastic. My next focus is the reintegration of Third Spaces into our neighbourhoods: civic spaces, cafés, splash pads and more. For the sake of our children—and the quality of our communities—we need to legalize the complete neighbourhood again.

For the sake of our children—and the quality of our communities—we need to legalize the complete neighbourhood again.

*In the spirit of nostalgia, it will always be Twitter to me. Find me on X at @talktoaryze.

**Ray Oldenburg, American Sociologist, coined the term “Third Places.” However, I have put my spin on it and call them “Third Spaces.”