Bună ziua!
And welcome back to Streetbeat!
If you’re tuning in from the Global North, we’ve officially entered the dog days of what started out as hot vaxx summer but now appears more along the lines of hot mess summer. Welcome to the 2020s, the Decade of Turbulence.
But on the lighter side of news, we have some nifty new features in this newsletter. First, I started every ‘Journalism & Urbanism’ (our old name) off with a greeting in a different language, but paused once we switched years and titles. I miss it, so it’s making a comeback. Let’s hear it for Romanian, the forgotten Romance language that is often mistaken for Portuguese. (Bună ziua—or good day!—isn’t too far from bom dia!)
Secondly, I am introducing yet another new section, suggested by my partner Angela on a recent trip to Florence and Milan, where we celebrated the wedding of good friends and our own eighth anniversary together. (Woohoo!) I’m calling it ‘City in Spotlight’: each month, I’ll zero in on a particular policy innovation a city has undertaken that I think is neat, mostly in the realms of transit and open space. The inaugural address will be from a city I once called home.
And lastly, we have our first reader-submitted Parklet of the Month. And my, is it a beaut. Now, onto the words!
The War on Idling
It’s hot. It’s humid. The summers are getting longer, not shorter. And no, the sweat dripping down your back is certainly not mistaken: July 2021 was the hottest month ever recorded on Planet Earth. And yes, it will get much worse: I landed in Italy just days after the hottest temperature in Europe was recorded in Siracusa, Sicily. 48.8 degrees Celsius, or about 120 degrees Fahrenheit.
Now, if you’ve encountered that level of heat while in a city, then you’re likely experiencing what is known as urban heat island effect. That is when a city’s built environment—its high towers, public transit, tight housing, or crowded streets—takes already existing heat, warms it up even more, and doesn’t let it leave, much to the chagrin of everyone, especially my cat, Kita. There are, of course, ways to combat it (a big reason I love street trees so much), but its impact generally falls along lines of race and class. This headline in The New York Times was A+.
One of the major contributors to urban heat island effect? Car idling. Not only are cars themselves a lead cause of why you’re so damn hot right now—think about it: big boxes of steel that radiate heat outward and use roads of black tar to operate—but when they’re parked with the engine running (usually to power the A/C, ironically), you can almost feel the phrase internal combustion engine. Not to mention idling emits CO2 and NO2, which, slowly but surely, is killing us. And lowest on the totem pole of concern is your engine, which idling is very bad for.
I’ve been obsessed with idling for some time. I’ve told people to turn off their engines in several different cities. (Often successfully, I may add; if The Good Place taught us anything, it’s that people are usually unaware of their negative externalities.) I’ve tried to get the public school across from me to inform parents of idling dangers to children’s health. I’ve yelled it from my window. I’ve even lectured my own dad on it. (Sorry, dad! But also, not sorry!)
So I was thrilled, of course, when I was asked to write on the subject for Bloomberg CityLab. The question: given everything we know, why is idling still a thing? And more importantly, what can cities do to finally kick idling to the curb, once and for all? Read the finished product, fit with some fun animations, here.
Homewrecker
Evictions. Late payments. Tenant organizing. Rent relief. Seller’s market. Buyer’s market. Moratoriums. A real estate ‘implosion.’
When everyone was told to stay inside last year, it became abundantly clear who couldn’t afford to in the long-term. COVID lit a match to what has long been a simmering tension of our overheated modern economy: housing. Who has access to it? Who can live securely? And who really has the power here? Privatization, gentrification and inventory shortages are, of course, nothing new. But COVID made cities viscerally confront systemic gaps, and in its wake, perhaps they can start to rethink property for a different age.
Glad to be back with the PEAK Urban team at the University of Oxford, whose researchers filled me in on their work looking at vertical occupations in Cape Town, new forms of property ownership in Medellín, and data to build stronger communities for the displaced across Colombia. It led to this feature for the WRI Ross Center’s The City Fix. Enjoy!
Get Smart
At some point or another, I’m sure you’ve heard the term ‘smart city.’ It’s the catch-all phrase that tech companies, investors and, increasingly, city planners use to describe the transition of 20th century urban technology and materials to the 21st century. It’s the gadgets we hear about all the time—AI, algorithms, sensors, facial recognition, etc.—but applied to operating an actual city. Neat!
But you probably haven’t heard much from the smart city prophets this last year; a time when urban management had to put out some very age-old flames, like pandemics, racial injustice, and economic despair. One that no app or software could solely tame. At many junctures in 2020-2021, it felt like when shit really hits the fan, what we really needed was a dumb city that just worked well.
The problems with smart cities, in my opinion, are two-pronged: they’re tech-first, and top-down. Companies are often given too much reign to do what they want, with the belief that the product, not the city itself, is the priority. And to what should be no surprise, it’s not working out well, as we’ve seen with the backlash to Sidewalk Labs (Google/Alphabet), Amazon, and other corporate-led forays into this realm. But thankfully there are emerging alternatives to maximize the good parts of smart cities (i.e. better data collection; more efficient operations) and minimize the bad (i.e. labor exploitation).
Shout-out to old NYU friend Prachi Vidwans, an editor at World Politics Review who asked if I could try to put all of those thoughts down on a webpage. Read my diatribe of sorts here.
This Newsletter is Infrastructure
One encouraging amber from this dumpster fire of a month was the U.S. Senate’s passage of a $1 trillion bipartisan infrastructure bill, which, if passed next month by the House of Representatives (deadline is Sept. 27th), would mark the single greatest investment America has made into its physical assets—transportation, energy grids, broadband—since Ike built the Interstate Highway System in the 1950s. And of course, in the midst of an ever worsening climate crisis, having the world’s greatest superpower (and a leading CO2 contributor) finally take stock of its aging systems has enormous global implications. This is a big one, folks!
There’s been infrastructure talk about as long as we’ve been in Afghanistan, and it’s finally… maybe here. So much needs to happen between now and late September—the Democrats basically have to pull off a Hail Mary of vote whipping, to secure the bill and, also, a $3.5 trillion budget that would make the New Deal look like a rounding error—but the blueprint of what an infrastructure bill in 2021 looks like is now clear.
And of course, I have some thoughts! So thanks to the listener who asked The Outspoken Cyclist to hear some of them. I returned to the podcast for a third time to dish on the good, the bad, the ugly of what’s happening in Washington.
City in Spotlight: Firenze
I decided to select the capital of Tuscany as the first ‘City in Spotlight’ for two reasons: first, I lived there for four months as an NYU student a decade ago, so it holds a very special place in my heart; and second, I just returned from visiting, so my observations are still in the ‘short-term memory’ category. Allora!
Italians are steadfast preservationists; the country’s history from Rome to the Renaissance is considered a national treasure. And ensuring it doesn’t go anywhere is part of that—as a recent host told us, ‘Nothing in Florence ever changes.’ (Which is probably both good and bad.) To that effect, local governments have taken a more active approach in reducing the amount of vehicular traffic that cuts through these historical centers. Enter the ZTL.
Zona a traffico limitato, or Limited Traffic Zones, are all over Italy; there are about 200 of them nationwide. What the ZTL does, essentially, is use cameras and bollards to bar most private traffic from entering historical centers, thereby encouraging more people to walk or cycle, which is less harmful to the ancient streets. They run for a certain set of hours, which are indicated by red (closed) or green (open) lights. They also encourage early morning and late night deliveries.
Starting in 1990, the ZTL in Florence is one of the oldest in the country, and it extends for 4 kilometers. (It’s split into five zones, each with different rules.) Probably unbeknownst to most tourists, it’s what makes walking down those narrow alleyways everyone loves so enjoyable. And just think about how many historical centers don’t have them.
Solutions Corner: How to Activate a Space
A few weeks ago, I received an email from a city planner and regular Streetbeat reader who had questions regarding a Slow Streets, or Open Streets, initiative in their city. The interest was spurred by my mention of the 31st Ave Open Street, which I’m actively involved in organizing, in the last volume. (I’ve also written on the initiative for Bloomberg CityLab.)
We got to talkin’ and our conversation ended up serving as a deeper reflection on how either a city agency or community can activate new places in this post-COVID rush for space. Designers and planners say ‘activate’ a lot, but what they really mean is ‘bring people there.’ How do you do that? Where do you even start? After three months on 31st Ave, there are four thoughts to share:
Give people ownership
A public space is for the public. But it might not feel that way if the public doesn’t feel like they have a say or have zero role in actually shaping it. The best public spaces, for me, are fungible—they can be morphed to how people see fit, and carry less restrictions on what can happen there. They’re living entities that reflect what the community wants them to be.
Community ownership can come in many forms. Street furniture that can be moved around, for example, is an easy way for people to use the space how they see fit. (The famous Times Square beach chairs come to mind.) Using ‘We,’ ‘ours’ or ‘yours’ in any literature or signage supports the sense that this is everyone’s backyard, not a city concession. And any and all means of including the public—whether that’s through interactive programming, calls on social media, or transparent decision-making—makes the space feel less static.
Address a community need
Every neighborhood has what I’d call an ‘open space need.’ That could be an insufficient amount of protected bike/micromobility lanes, park access, transit connectivity, or the like. Whatever it may be, your new public space should address it in some way.
That is also why there is no one-size-fits-all approach to making one. For example, Jackson Heights’ 34th Ave, which is now considered the ‘gold standard’ of New York’s Open Streets program, would be difficult to completely shut down. It’s a largely residential block, there are a ton of active driveways, and there aren’t many brick-and-mortar businesses. The neighborhood, however, was in need of two things: open space (it has some of the lowest rates in the city) and a reliable east-west route for active travel, like walking and cycling.
31st Avenue in Astoria, however, is a different story. We have so many businesses, but not a lot of public places to sit outside. (One neighbor once grumbled to us ‘Why don’t you go to Astoria Park? It’s only a mile away!’ Which inadvertently proved our point exactly.) The Open Street here addresses that need, and also bolsters one of the few east-west connectors we have for cycling as well. That might be why it’s working well.
So whatever is put in, it’s worth asking: what does this community actually need? And how can we use this opportunity to plug up a gap in the map?
Have regular programming
One retort we’ve heard is that “nobody’s using it.” This, of course, isn’t always genuine—I’ve been told that at 12:01pm, when the Open Street starts at 12 o’clock sharp. But sometimes, admittedly, there is a notable lack of usage. The first few weeks were tough: neighbors didn’t really know what the Open Street was, didn’t know it was theirs, and, most importantly, there was just less going on. Proof of concept can be a catch-22 if you can’t actually prove the concept.
Thankfully, we had some early entrants who seized the opportunity to set up shop, be it for environmental education (The Milkweeds), stand-up comedy (2Small2Fail), or music sets (DJ Chambray All Day). Now they all have regular slots with us, which means visitors can expect to see them. It makes the Open Street a constant in a crucial way. And it also has a cascading effect: other programmers see those programmers online or IRL, and then ask if they can join*, creating a self-sustaining ecosystem. (This last weekend was a prime example.) We went from ‘Our calendar is free!’ to ‘Let us check the calendar.’
*If the city provides funds for programming, this is a great way to support local talent. If you can’t personally pay, think of different ways to boost, like letting hosts suggest donations and promoting on social media.)
Find your die-hards
If a city wanted to do all of the legwork for public space activation—the operations, the programming, the engagement—then, please, by all means. But if volunteers are left to get it going, then that’s a whole different ballgame. I, admittedly, wasn’t involved with the Open Street until its second year, when it went from a shared street to a full closure. Some of its founding members were busy with other commitments, so we had to assemble a dedicated team who could keep the energy going. If that sputtered then, not sure if we’d be here today.
An essential part was business owners. We have a handful who provide space to store supplies and help promote online. (Shout-out to Zenon Taverna.) They also use it in some way; one, for example, has cornhole set up for patrons waiting on the queue. That then leads other businesses to get onboard. This also offers a sense of legitimacy for naysayers, as the space serves more than just neighbors.
Additionally, organizers should publicize how to actually get involved. There are just as many neighbors who want to as there are neighbors who are angry, believe me, but often, they just don’t know how. Build out a core group, and then look to expand it through delegated teams (social media, fundraising, etc.). Try to turn every user into an advocate.
Bright Side: Better. Damn. Service.
One theme I keep falling back on is how COVID could reshuffle the deck of our transportation needs, from one of commuter convenience to one of greater rider satisfaction. This was a constant of my conversation with Tiffany Chu, co-founder of transit planning software startup Remix (now part of Via), for a MIT Review profile I wrote in April. Chu made great points about how, for so long, jobs were the main motivator behind where transit was planned. And maybe, just maybe, in this brave new world, we can start adding new destinations, like access to food, healthcare, and leisure.
That shift, to me, will be instrumental to winning riders back to public transit. (New York City, for example, is still missing about 1.5 million daily riders.) And glad to see that Washington D.C. is leading the way here.
WMATA—or D.C. Metro—announced a bevy of new changes this month to lure riders back, focusing on off-peak hours, which will likely see more riders with changing work patterns. Starting in early September, weekend trains will now run three to six minutes apart, close later on Friday, and open earlier on Sunday. The distanced fare common in many transit systems will be dashed then, too, instead replaced with a $2 base fee. And you won’t have to pay for transferring buses, which will also get a big service boost.
Smoother rides, indeed.
Parklet of the Month: August 2021
Winner: Guevara’s (Clinton Hill, Brooklyn)
FKA: A place for cars to idle.
From the reader: “I love this parklet because of the arcade style design that allows sunlight in but is still open and airy. The pink creates a soft, joyful feel, too.”
I also want to take this opportunity to thank Al Fresco NYC, the initiative by Regional Planning Association, the Design Trust for Public Space and the Tri-State Transportation Campaign to award great outdoor street and dining designs. Earlier this month, I attended their first award ceremony at Maiden Korea, an outdoor beer garden in Manhattan’s K-Town, and was delighted to see our first-ever POTM, Blend Astoria, win for Queens.
Got a parklet you want to give a shout-out to? Submit it here.
Streetbeat Gigs Bulletin
Remember: if you have job postings that you think would be a good fit for Streetbeat readers, share them!
This month, we have:
No end quote this month, but instead, look at this: