While in self-isolation during the COVID-19 pandemic, I am keeping a daily diary—to pass the time and record moments and experiences during this unusual time.

How Cycling Can Change the Look and Feel of Toronto and How Covid 19 May be Pointing the Way 

Post Date: Thursday July 3, 2020 

We are becoming a biking city almost in spite of ourselves. There have never been so many of us on bikes. Bike sales have outstripped supplies; bike stores can’t keep up with the demand and bike share is expanding its territory into the inner suburbs. But we are still in early stages of making it safe and comfortable for many users. We have inherited streets designed essentially for moving cars, and while we have a growing number of bike lanes and off-street trails, they are still sparse, relatively few and far between. We have been timid thus far but can we now see an image on the horizon of a different city propelled by Covid-19which is bike friendly? Is this a mirage or a growing reality? Can we make the change more quickly and more nimbly? 

Covid-19 has shone a light on what is working and what is not in many areas, and has raised the ante. As restrictions begin to be lifted, Toronto is joining the dozens of cities around the world – Berlin, Bogota, New York, Paris, Oakland, Milan, Vilnius, Vancouver, Calgary to name just a few - that are rapidly expanding networks of safe ways to move around the city during the pandemic, turning over hundreds of kilometers of traffic lanes and in many cases entire streets to pedestrians and cyclists.

This shift is both an answer to the practical need for new ways of navigating the city on foot and by bike to get to work and essential shopping and also a way of addressing the insatiable desire to be outdoors while respecting physical distancing. A new form of ‘Emergency Urbanism’ is revealing the promise of what could be. A slow march has become a quick step as improvised ‘pilots’ expand the realm of the possible, testing hard-wired assumptions  about what works. As this happens, this response is revealing an entirely new way of using the city laced by interconnected bike lanes. 

This response is a powerful demonstration of city resilience, providing essential choices and work-arounds in a moment of crisis but also pointing the way to adaptations that have great potential to become permanent. As we experience the change, the momentum is unlikely to be reversed. Toronto has been slow off the mark but this can also be the city’s opportunity to boldly join the parade.  

This ‘improvised’ shift is dramatically accelerating a movement that was already underway. Toronto is evolving into a great and densely populated city. It has a wide range of existing parks and trails including the Martin Goodman Trail across the waterfront, trails in the ravines and river valleys, and a limited number of protected on street bike lanes.  What we are still missing, however, is a fully interconnected city-wide network for real transportation as well as for recreation. 

This Covid-19 crisis has put a premium on public spaces where people of all ages can get out and participate in active pastimes, simply walking and cycling, making these health-promoting activities part of their daily life routines. As things open up we will need safer alternative ways for cyclists and pedestrians to get to work, school or shopping. 

Many potential users who do not currently feel safe are being encouraged to use these expanded networks, not just during the summer months but all year around, as we see in the Nordic countries, for daily travel throughout the city as they find themselves less hemmed into narrow sidewalks and unprotected lanes by speeding traffic.  This is not to replace public transit, which will remain a vital necessity, but to supplement it. 

We are moving in Toronto from intermittent links to a more robust network, to an increasing number of protected lanes. It is a progression and with each addition our mental maps of the city of the city are changing as the balance shifts from no protection for cyclists squeezed against fast moving traffic…

…to ‘sharrows’, a faint painted signal of recognition but still ambiguous and providing a false sense of security… 

…to narrow or wider painted lines – a little better but still vulnerable, too easy for vehicles to cross or block with vehicles parked or stopped in lanes forcing cyclists out into moving traffic…

 …to Covid inspired “Quiet Streets”; throughout the neighbourhoods on smaller streets… 

…to clearly identified contraflow lanes on residential streets…

… to more emphatic painting identifying bike lanes to make it clear that we have rules for sharing, messaging to drivers to slow down and pay attention, to cyclists and cyclists to ride safely…

  …to physical separation in the form of pickets and lanes inside a row of parked cars… 

 …to raised curbs and planters…

… to wider lanes, with designated left turns at the crosswalks and traffic lights with cyclist signals… 

…to a new generation of integrated design with all users and movements accommodated in a completely blended shared street.

So far the redesign of Queens Quay is the exception that proves the rule even as its growing pains are being acknowledged and corrected. 

Then there are those euphoric and exhilarating moments when an entire street is liberated from vehicular traffic and the surrounding city can be appreciated in an entirely new way, encouraging many riders who do not currently feel safe cycling in the city to come out. 

As these interventions proliferate, we are getting glimpses of what the city could be like. The experience of cycling (and walking) goes from one of anxiety to a sense of ease and security – slower heartbeat, more enjoyment of surroundings. As more people are induced to get on bikes to try it and feel safe, the city itself feels and becomes different. The change is palpable, perceived distances shrink, getting from place to place becomes intuitive. Through a Vision Zero lens the city becomes immeasurably safer for all users of all generations. And perhaps counter-intuitively for those who still need to drive, the greater the success of the network of SAFEWAYS, the more they benefit by freeing up space in the rights-of-way as more people use them and get out of their cars. 

 Step by step, and accelerated by Covid, we are moving form isolated fragments to forging connections and moving slowly closer to the holy grail of a fully connected network where there is no need to worry about how to safely make the next connection to get from A to B throughout the city. Amsterdam and Copenhagen are the gold standard thus far. 

In our case five organizations have come together to produce an online community map of Toronto ‘SAFEWAYS’ tracking the evolution of our own emerging network.  In a great display of community collaboration, these five Toronto-based organizations dedicated to improving and enhancing the city’s public realm have come together to advocate for safe and viable ways for Torontonians to navigate our city on foot and by active transportation. The initiative, led by Cycle Toronto, Walk Toronto, The Bentway, Park People and Spacing Magazine, illustrates our emerging network of bike lanes, multi-use trails, parks and ActiveTO closures for recreational and commuting purposes. These SAFEWAYS are both a critical response to the current moment and hold the key to a safe and sustainable post-Covid Future. This is what it looks like so far.

The digital work in progress map serves 2 purposes. It helps Torontonians access and use the SAFEWAYS we now have.  It also sets the stage for what comes next, a new way of navigating the city as we continue to grow and complete the network not just downtown but throughout the city. The map is not about an end state but a beginning, to provide encouragement for further additions and improvements.  

In this period of Covid 19 we have come to understand that this network of SAFEWAYS is not a frill or a non-essential “nice to have”.  We were already in the midst of a public health crisis, exacerbated by sedentary lifestyles where an overreliance on the automobile and a tendency to spend long hours in front of screens has produced an epidemic of obesity as well as increases of diabetes and heart disease — especially alarming among children. This current situation has reinforced that need. A generously endowed and welcoming network of public SAFEWAYS provides a vital service and offers significant benefits for public health both physically and mentally.  

 The pattern of SAFEWAYS we have now is still fragmented and piecemeal, and parts of the city, particularly the inner suburbs, are not yet well served.  There is now an opportunity to build on the momentum to develop a unique made-in-Toronto solution combining both on street and off street components, our unique ravine system with trail connections, and our vast network of over 2,400 laneways, which, combined, extend for more than 250 kilometres. Our future success depends on resourcefully exploiting these arteries and veins, which can be stitched together with hydro corridors, rail lines, stormwater management systems, flood-proofing plans, and related transportation initiatives, to address many of the city’s current deficiencies. 

 By transforming these underutilized spaces more creatively we create opportunities to link existing and new green spaces into continuous interconnected webs. The entire city has the potential to become more park-like, green, and connected for people on foot and on bicycle. There has been a dramatic and noticeable impact on the environment. The air is cleaner, nature is more evident, and we can hear sounds of city life that were drowned out by traffic. What we are seeing and feeling intermittently with the temporary closings on Bayview and Lakeshore Boulevard, is a vivid demonstration of how all ages including children and seniors are encouraged to experience these safe spaces on their bikes. 

 The entire city will benefit as it becomes more connected for people of all abilities and ages on foot and on bicycle, fostering residents’ ability to move around relatively freely and experience more of the city, in ways that break down perceived barriers between neighbourhoods and districts as flows become more continuous. With time, the examples of connection that we are creating ‘on the fly’ today must become the rule. 

Can this pandemic show the way to a city laced with connected ‘Greenways’

 Post Date: Thursday May 6, 2020 

 As the weather turns and restrictions begin to be lifted dozens of cities around the world from Berlin to Bogota, New York, Paris, Oakland, Milan and Vilnius, Vancouver, Calgary and, Brampton are responding to an irrepressible demand for safe outdoor space by rapidly turning over traffic lanes and in many cases entire streets to pedestrians and cyclists. This is both an answer for the desire to be outdoors while respecting physical distancing but also to addressing the practical need for new ways of moving around the city on foot and by bike to get to work and essential shopping. As this happens this response is revealing an entirely new way of seeing and using the city laced by interconnected “greenways” and as we experience the change, the momentum is unlikely to be reversed. We have been slow off the mark but this can also be Toronto’s opportunity to boldly join the parade.  

 This ‘improvised’ shift is dramatically accelerating a movement that was already underway. On the one hand, an increasing desire for urban living was leading to a greater need for shared public space. Meeting this need in traditional ways was thwarted by high land costs for acquiring traditional parks. The need for more space was accompanied by a change in how we use that public space and the kinds of experiences we seek, more fluid and interconnected, leading to new forms like linear “greenways” reflecting the shift from auto-dependent lifestyles to active movement — cycling and walking.

 In the process, we were already moving from seeing public space as interconnected webs or networks. Coved 19 has now raised the ante.  It begs the question of what our next public spaces will be as we continue to evolve into a great and densely populated city. Toronto has a wide range of existing parks, from expansive legacy parks, like the Toronto Islands and High Park, more intimate neighbourhood parks like Trinity Bellwoods, gardens and historic squares like Victoria Memorial Square, natural waterfront parks like the Eastern Beaches and Western Beaches, as well as a vast array of neighbourhood parks, some sixteen hundred, in fact. 

 We have also had a brilliant new round of renewal of existing parks, and creation of new ones, is underway in some areas. There is now a refurbished Grange Park behind the Art Gallery of Ontario with unique children’s play structures, and Berczy Park with its crowd-pleasing dog-inspired fountains; recent additions along the waterfront include Sugar Beach, with a sand beach and sturdy pink beach umbrellas; Sherbourne Common with its water filtration artworks; Corktown Common with a working wetlands; and Trillium Park with its cave like rock formations. And at the other end of the size spectrum, there is the new Rouge Park, the country’s largest urban national park, and the new sixteen-kilometre Meadoway, which utilizes a Hydro corridor to link Rouge Park to the Don Valley. 

 These new park spaces, however, even combined with existing parks, don’t even come close to fully meeting the city’s growing need, as the growing population is creating a Toronto that is literally bursting at the seams. A key demand of city residents, expressed over and over in community meetings about intensifying development, is the call for more and improved open space as part of an expanded public realm. 

 This has been our dilemma. How can Toronto get ahead of the intense development curve to shape a dynamic and growing city around a forward-looking program for expanding the public realm? The current moment offers some clues. It is not only about the quantity of public open space — in conventional planning terms, we have been focused on the square metres of parkland per inhabitant within a given radius — and while this is important, it is actually more important to focus on the quality and usefulness of that space and how it enhances our lives.

 We are now seeing dramatically how public space is not a frill or a non-essential “nice to have.” A generously endowed and welcoming network of public space offers significant benefits to public health, both physically and mentally. We were already in the midst of a public health crisis, exacerbated by sedentary lifestyles where an overreliance on the automobile and a tendency to spend long hours in front of screens has produced an epidemic of obesity as well as increases of diabetes and heart disease — especially alarming among children. This put a premium on public spaces where people of all ages can get out and participate in active pastimes, from simply walking and cycling to a whole range of year-round sports and athletic activities close to where they live and work, making these health-promoting activities part of their daily life routines.

 By transforming our underutilized spaces more creatively we create opportunities to link existing and new green spaces into continuous interconnected webs — linear greenways formed not just by conventional parks, but also trails and “green streets” of all scales. Our future success depends on us exploiting these arteries and veins, which can be stitched together utilizing our currently unsung hidden-in-plain-sight ravines, hydro corridors, and laneways. This stitching may be the key to our own genius loci in the public realm.

 Toronto’s vast network of laneways offers another huge potential. There are over 2,400 laneways, which, combined, extend for more than 250 kilometres in length. In terms of area, the laneways occupy over 250 acres, an area more than half the size of High Park. More significantly, this mid-block network penetrates many of the city’s neighbourhoods, providing the potential for an intimate network of open public space, pedestrian and cycle routes, and extremely valuable land for housing, studios, workshops, and service spaces. 

 Putting together all these pieces — laneways, street redesign, ravines, hydro corridors, rail lines, stormwater management systems, flood-proofing plans, and transportation initiatives, a vastly expanded public realm can emerge, one that addresses many of the city’s current deficiencies. This new realm will be different, both in scale and kind. Rather than discrete public spaces carved out of a grid of street blocks — parks and squares — this new kind of public space has the potential to become the fully continuous, connective tissue of the urban fabric itself.

 The entire city can become more park-like, green, and connected for people on foot and on bicycle. Fostering residents’ ability to move around relatively freely and experience more of the city this way will help to break down the perceived barriers between neighbourhoods and districts as flows become more continuous. The elements of the public realm that serve as links between areas will play a vital role in helping to make the city feel like a seamless whole. 

 With time, it can be anticipated that the examples of connection that we are creating ‘on the fly’ today have today will become the rule. With the shift to a more expansive sense of the public realm, a new liberating “reading” of the city will emerge, no longer orienting itself only or primarily by highways and major arterials but increasingly by connected networks of common space serving as guideways throughout the city. This more fluid idea of the entire cityscape as a landscape, where flows become more organic and seamless in some ways gets us back to a pre-colonial sense of the land we inhabit as a generous shared “commons,” less hard-edged and hemmed into narrow sidewalks by speeding traffic. 

Cities That Heal: How The Coronavirus Pandemic Could Change Urban Design

Post Date: Tuesday, April 28, 2020 

Can we design cities that heal? Listen to my conversation in the link below with Megna Chakrabarti of NPR’s ON POINT and Architect Michael Murphy about how to change the cities and buildings for better human health.

https://www.wbur.org/onpoint/2020/04/28/coronavirus-pandemic-change-evolution-of-cities-and-urban-design

How Covid 19 is forcing us to acknowledge our place in the natural world   

 Post Date: Thursday April 24, 2020 

Steven I. Apfelbaum, (my ecologist colleague and friend from Wisconsin) and I have worked together for over thirty years. We have learned a great deal from each other. He has been truly mesmerized “learning about urban systems, structure, functions  and why unhealth and healthy conditions develop. And, I have been excited to see practical and cost effective ways to bring nature and green infrastructure into urban systems, into our lives, our community and neighborhoods. Nature and urban systems can be wonderfully complimentary is what we have both learned. Books by Steve such as   “Nature’s Second Chance” (Beacon press), and a series, “Restoring Ecological Health to Your Land” (Island press),   may be of interest.

Steve sees the COVID pandemic within a broader context. One in which we now have the “bulls eye on our back”, while for decades we have assaulted nearly all other life and natural resources on earth with pandemics, where the bulls eye is on the back of natural areas, migratory birds, marine fishes…when the pandemic was delivered by us, instead of a virus, we have been the agent of upheaval.

He has shared this remarkable prose poem with me: 

UNDERSTANDING PANDEMICS

IS THIS YOUR FIRST RODEO

• We recognize when the bullseye is on our back.

• We hide and cower in fear NOW, with the uncertainty of our survival.

• Neighbors are dying, never to be visited with again, 

• Families fear one another getting sick.

• We don’t understand nor have confidence we can be treated

• Doctors, nurses, and volunteers from the world over are playing MGyiver to keep us breathing

NO, IT’S NOT YOUR FIRST RODEO

• Industrial agriculture is the equivalent of a pandemic assault on sustainable farming in America

• Benign neglect for ecosystem health is the equivalent of a pandemic assault on ecosystems

• Over harvesting  of marine fish resources is the equivalent of a pandemic assault on fish stocks globally

• Spilling of pollutants into rivers, coastal zones, lakes, and into ground water is the equivalent of a pandemic assault on water resources on earth.

• The human population explosion is having pandemic effects on all of nature

• Human demand for natural resources is stripping the cupboard of nature bare, just like the pandemic effects in our food stores with COVID-19. 

• Our own assault on our gut microbiome is a pandemic on the hoof, waiting to stampede us down.

• Hunger and poverty occurs beyond our blind eye—this is a growing pandemic

• Habitat and biodiversity decline on earth has been our signature behavior as a species

WHEN THE SYSTEM THROWS YOU, IN THIS GAME YOU DON’T GET BACK ON THE HORSE QUICKLY---YOU GET TRAMPLED AND ALL CHANGES IN NATURE ARE FAIR GAME

• Assaults on nature come back to bite us--- recall, nature bats last.

• A pandemic that goes around will come back to us--- Turnabout is fair play in nature.

• Finally, we realize we are not separate from nature—not above or below, but part of nature

• Our world has been turned topsy-turvy by all measures—we have lost our freedoms (or suffer the consequences and risks)

•  Our 401k’s  have become the food of uncertainty- 

• Leadership not from above, where aloofness and ignorance and hubris prevail --no genius, no humanist; but from scientists, and medical professionals

• Our political divide is a pandemic

SO, PERHAPS NOW YOU FEEL A NEW PANDEMIC, BECAUSE IT IS THE ONE AIMED AT YOU

• An assault on nature, the health of the earth is surely cutting the very heart out of our civilization, humanity, our economy, our lives

• Business as usual will never work again.

• Ignoring the inevitable future and other looming risks will not be sane,

• Not caring because it’s too complex will no longer be an excuse

• Voting with your purchasing power will no longer be a method to rapidly scale success

SO, WHAT SHOULD WE LEARN?

• Nature will double back and outsmart our every move

• This chess game is more complex and is deadly serious

• As we’ve learned, we can’t be inoculated in time against pandemics

• Recognize the fast moving freight train (COPID-19) has derailed us beyond any prediction

• Recognize the slow moving tsunami (Climate change) will upheave us, move us from the land, dismantle our food supplies, directly displacing hundreds of millions.

• Recognize diseases, viruses, pestilence, and everything unimaginable is waiting in the lurch for the moment to pounce upon climate change victims.

SO, WHATS TO BE DONE NOW—GETTING THROUGH THIS ONE ISNT THE QUESTION

• Regain our composure and sense of place in nature

• Assume culpability for our assaults—myriad pandemics we have directed at nature, each other.

• Nurture nature--- give back to unsoil our nest, from the havoc we have wreaked.

• Assume Responsibility to replenish, repair, reinvigorate, restore nature, healthy soils, healthy food supplies, healthy humans 

• Assume a Humble role, as  a part of the earths system of life, and follow the rules and regulations of nature

• Make wise choices grounded in wisdom, not frivolity, and an “aw shucks” attitude to guiding our collective future

• Choose leaders grounded in science, understandings, not self-fabricated mythology, or ungrounded fantasy

• Avoid Complacency--- New pandemics are boiling up daily with the bullseye on our back.

• No Double Standards--- It doesn’t matter who the bulls eye marks ( e.g. black, white, Soudanese, American, republicans, democrats, socialists, etc. ) —invest in solutions for all mankind, all  nature.

• The Old Finger in the Dike Trick will not work--- An outbreak anywhere becomes a risk everywhere, to everyone.

• Work Together--- no barriers --- all must be dismantled, one human civilization must be recognized

• Rationally view this omnipresent, omnipotent crisis as a wake-up!

SO, HOW DO WE UNDERSTAND SUCCESS?

• When Nature celebrates the resurgence of vital and vibrant life on earth!

• Some of us will be invited to the party!

   

Steven I. Apfelbaum, Juda, WI, April 11, 2020

steve@appliedeco.com

What might the post Covid 19 world mean for the city?   

Post Date: Thursday April 16, 2020 

In this moment of crisis we are witnessing remarkable examples of turning on a dime, of coming together to make the impossible possible, allowing ourselves to try new things and experiment. Can we capitalize on that momentum when the peak passes and we focus on renewal of our cities?

Before the pandemic arrived were already in md-stages of a major paradigm shift from away from a post WWII environment that had been built around the car, attempting to create inherently more sustainable urban places. Cities around the world were working through this transformation as part of a great collective learning curve. While progress was being made one could argue that it has been sometimes frustratingly slow and uneven.  

In a best case scenario can we use this force majeure of the Covid 19 crisis to accelerate innovation and adopt new practices and strategies for building better cities in the way that shared crises of the past led to similar farsighted responses? The Great Depression brought us the New Deal and Unemployment Insurance. The series of devastating contagions in the 20th century led to great advances in vaccination and public health. Can this be an equivalent shape-shifting turning point for cities?   

The to do list we were working on is still there: reintegrating the activities of city life in mixed-use, mixed income walkable settings, changing how we move, re-setting our relationship to the natural world, dealing with the challenges of climate change, expanding common ground. But now those goals have been overtaken by an expanded set imperatives coming out of Covid 19, piggybacking on and potentially driving the first with a heightened sense of urgency and new possibility. 

The defencelessness of disadvantaged populations, the lack of attention to public health, the extraordinary retreat into a digital world, the need for strong and reliable government and public services, the power of civil society and the deep well of generosity and caring of the public, all speak to the need to strengthen the inherent capacities of the city to be more resourceful and resilient. To get there will require unprecedented levels of collaboration, a sharing of resources, new forms of partnership, and a willingness to step out of established silos. 

A number of things have come into high relief as a result of the Covid 19 pandemic which might propel this shift. While the failure to address marginalized and disadvantaged populations is certainly not news, we have disastrously failed to act and have seen the consequences. Community health depends on making our cities and city regions more equitable and this underlines the need to give our public health officials a prominent place at the planning and urban design table. Malcolm Gladwell in the Munk Debates has used this persuasive analogy: If you want to improve the performance of a soccer team, it is important to improve the worst player on the team not to lavish attention on the stars. 

Yes we are in this together but not experiencing the pandemic in the same way. The focus on highly sophisticated medical treatments available to a small percent of the population in the US exists alongside a huge population of uninsured; great hospitals but an appalling lack of attention to public health among the poor. These weak links have contributed to making it the hardest hit country in the world. In Canada the festering problems of long term care facilities have been well known and now are producing an astonishing death rate. 

Can we learn from this painful wake-up call and make cities that are more equitable? This is particularly relevant for Canada with our great collective project of successfully absorbing migration from around the world to make our cities the most diverse on the planet. 

A second revelation has been the immediate and virtually total reliance on the digital world imposed by physical distancing. This is forcing us to come to terms with issues already in play around data security and privacy, but also the need to figure out the role we want this technology to play in our lives and our cities. How can we make best use of technology to advance a human centred urbanism and not allow it to permanently distance ourselves from each other? I am persuaded that when this is over we will want more than ever to be together physically and not seek to ‘cocoon’, combining the best of IRL (in real life) with our expanded digital presence.  

A third revelation has been the value of ‘redundancy’ as the cornerstone of resiliency, having multiple ways of doing things so that when one ‘system’ or ‘network’ breaks down we have recourse to others: the abrupt shift to virtual communication to achieve physical distancing being a prime example, but also multiple ways of getting access to food, moving around the city, walking, cycling, using thinned out transit and yes, cars; adapting spaces and institutions to new uses, seeing hotels become shelter housing, libraries doubling as food banks etc. This need for redundancy also applies to alternatives to tenuous supply chains, the need to keep local manufacturing capability and local agriculture for food security. We need to think of value engineering ‘in’ redundancy in cities for unforeseen and unpredictable events.   

We have been jolted into acknowledging the essential role of governments and the need for trust and confidence in their ability to act decisively and provide leadership. The talk of leaving everything to the private sector and disparaging the public sector has significantly quieted. At the same time the strength of civil society has been remarkable and its capacity for generous ‘caremongering’ is awesome to behold. Perhaps this will lead to a new and better understanding of these complementary roles and how they can be mobilized to make meaningful change. 

Finally the actions we are witnessing give some hope about our collective ability to mount a response to the even more existentially consequential, if less immediately dramatic challenge of our age, that of facing global warming and climate change. An initial knee jerk reaction declaring that density the enemy is based on a false correlation, conflating density with overcrowding. It has to be resisted, lest it lead to a renewal of low density sprawl, setting back decades of effort. The key is to do density well in in our cities in a way that addresses both challenges simultaneously.  

Two things in particular emerge as urgent priorities in light of the experience of the pandemic, making the city more equitable and making it more resilient. The urban ‘neighbourhood’ is a good intermediate scale to see how this may play out. The illustration above shows how a portion of the post war suburban landscape of strip malls in Brampton can be reconceived as a 20 minute neighbourhood.  

This is part of a work-in-progress initiative I have been working on with colleagues at the city which reflects the aspirations the city has endorsed in Brampton’s 2040 Vision. There are no silver bullets; there is no big bang, but it is about proximity and overlap, how things normally widely separated, are woven together in the neighbourhood in innovative ways challenging previous assumptions and formulas. So what does that look like? 

The image portrays a compact neighbourhood setting where many daily life needs can be met within a 20 minute walking distance with the density and diversity to support this. The neighbourhood is anchored by a ‘community hub’ linked to park space. It combines public and separate elementary schools, a library (which we have seen can be an extraordinary resource), a community and recreation centre, daycare, arts and culture, and spaces for entrepreneurial start-ups. 

Public spaces are shared and adaptable for efficiency and to foster interaction among different users of the neighbourhood throughout the day and week. Indoor spaces flow transparently into outdoor spaces and can be adjusted for seasonal comfort and cordoned off for security or safety when needed. 

There is a full mix of housing for the full range of the population in terms of age, income, household types and needs including seniors and young families with kids drawn by easy access to the community hub. There is a mix of ownership and rental options with different levels of subsidy to foster inclusion. People who work in the community can also afford to live there and the population can age in place within the neighbourhood as life circumstances change. The diverse architecture and built form reflect the social diversity, with buildings of different scales including the elusive “missing middle” of mid-rise structures.  The dwelling units themselves are conceived with adaptable space for work and home schooling for moments like the one we are currently living through. 

There is a lively daytime population in the neighbourhood with work in many forms from live/work to office space, incubation start-ups and space for collaboration including a mix of small businesses and maker spaces. There is neighbourhood shopping for food and other basic needs, restaurants, cafes providing informal sociable gathering places. 

There are many ways to get around. This neighbourhood is not a self-contained village but part of larger city and region. The street types have been designed to prioritize transit, cycling and walking but there is room for cars as well, including car share options and ultimately autonomous vehicles. Sidewalks are generous and universal accessibility is the rule.   

Space allocation within the rights-of-way can be redistributed as needed for different modes, for example when more space is needed for physical distancing.  Parking is shared and designed to be repurposed when no longer required. 

An expansive public realm, ‘common ground’ is a key feature of the neighbourhood. It turns out we need it more than ever. Park space serves many uses and users and is the essential social glue that ties the neighbourhood together and fosters the interaction that unites us in times of crisis. It is enlivened by opportunities for everything from sports and recreation, community gardens, to arts and culture which celebrate neighbourhood life and reinforce a sense of shared identity. Even overlook from balconies becomes part of the shared experience of the public realm as we have learned when confined to our units.    

The neighbourhood expresses its deep relationship to the natural world and its commitment to environmental sustainability in the way it handles energy, waste, mobility and storm water integrated within the parks and open spaces. It demonstrates how we can break our dependence on fossil fuels and move toward the goal of net zero or energy plus. 

You might say all these things are just normal and you would be right. Few if any of these ideas are absolutely new. Many have been there for the taking. The most important learning that can come from the Covid 19 pandemic is that when motivated we have the potential to rapidly expand the range of the possible.  We have it in our power to overcome inertia and make real changes that would take us to more equitable and resilient cities. 

 We then need to treat this experience of society mobilizing in a crisis as a dress rehearsal for confronting the next great challenge of climate change. 

Optimism <> Pessimism

 Post Date: Sunday April 12, 2020 

 It has been almost a month since I last went to any kind of gathering with other people and the fact of isolation is really sinking in. The holidays, Passover, Easter and Ramadan feel like a marker, a time to take stock in this passage from one reality to another. The world has gotten a whole lot smaller physically and expanded virtually. New routines have taken hold and are punctuating the days and weeks in new ways. 

 There are some significant revelations. We have learned that there is depth in government and in civil society that can be mobilized when there is a will and an urgent need. People, politicians are seen for who they truly are – qualities of steadiness and courage, and selflessness on the one hand and on the other mendacity, pettiness and seeking of partisan advantage. There are real surprises like our Premier Doug Ford stepping up in unexpected ways and forging alliances.  

 We are seeing that things that seemed impossible, that were postponed and neglected can actually be done. The failings in our systems and social safety network have been dramatically exposed and the people who were ignored in precarious situations have now been made highly visible.

 The world is now truly connected; it is ‘globalized’ in that we are all vulnerable together in the face of this pathogen, which like climate change, can’t be solved by any group or nation alone.  But globalization of the economy is revealed as a two edged sword.  We are seeing the high price we have been paying for ‘cheap goods’ and services that enabled a certain lifestyle but led to tenuous supply chains for essentials, loss of local capacity and the precarity of the gig economy.  

 The limited ability of the private market, the working out of supply and demand, to address many basic needs has been painfully exposed from housing to health care itself especially in the US with its millions of uninsured. We are seeing  with new eyes those whose work is indispensable for our survival, the unsung heroes in the health care, first responders and service sectors many of whom have been ill-paid and without benefits and support who are now risking their lives.  

 The so-called austerity agenda has made us ill prepared, short staffed and vulnerable. There is no free lunch. We have to redress the public/private balance and pay for what we need to keep whole and safe through taxes.  The creation and manufacturing of the vaccine that will rescue us from this scourge will require vast public resources, a global sharing of information among scientists and free distribution on a world wide scale.          

 Fundamental questions of security, data privacy civil liberties and social discipline have all been raised in relation to our ability to sustain an open democratic society. These are all very big questions but perhaps the biggest on most of our minds is how will this end or will it? When and how will it be safe to be out in the world again?

 There is no doubt that the Corona 19 pandemic is a force majeure. It cannot be ignored. Nature through this pathogen has got the world’s rapt attention (with the exclusion of some incomprehensible deniers). Even wars are being put on hold like the endless struggle in Yemen.

 So what happens next? There seem to be three views emerging: 1) More of the same; 2) A wake-up call; 3) Regression to autocratic insularity. Historian Richard Haass argues the first in his piece “The Pandemic Will Accelerate History Rather Than Reshape It”. Delcan Walsh   takes the third view that “the world’s strongmen are reverting to their standard playbook to project an aura of control". 

 And then there is this more optimistic second view which I share from yesterday’s Toronto Star Editorial praising the steps taken in Toronto re the housing crisis. It points to the fact that there is noth­ing like a pan­demic that forces peo­ple to dis­tance them­selves to re­ally fo­cus at­ten­tion on the fact that tens of thou­sands of Cana­di­ans don’t have a room of their own, let alone a home, in which to do that. To respond the city has scrambled “to open up new emer­gency shel­ter spa­ces and snap up en­tire ho­tels to al­low for the phys­i­cal dis­tanc­ing that is so es­sen­tial in the col­lec­tive fight against the coro­n­avirus”.

 These changes that are be­ing made on an emer­gency ba­sis must now be used as a start­ing point for per­ma­nent change.  The ac­tions that Toronto and other cities are tak­ing demon­strate that when we mar­shal the right re­sources we can ef­fect change. It also shows that gov­ern­ments al­ready know what needs to be done and how to do it.

 It is now imperative that all lev­els of gov­ern­ment en­sure that we don’t go back to the old and com­pletely in­ad­e­quate way of do­ing things once bet­ter times re­turn. “That home­less peo­ple’s sit­u­a­tion could im­prove in the midst of a global pan­demic says a lot about how bad their “nor­mal” sit­u­a­tion is, and why it’s so im­per­a­tive that we con­tinue to move for­ward.”

 Do we really have a choice?  This unsettling article in the New Yorker by Matthew Hutson on “The Quest for a Pandemic Pill” alerts us to the fact that the Corona 19 pandemic is likely not a one off. There will be more, the question being not if but when. To prepare ourselves will require incredible levels of world-wide focus and cooperation. Can we do that? This will require new models for how we do just about everything. We will come together or go down together. 

Hundreds of Points of Light 

 Post Date: Friday April 10, 2020 

 A big shoutout to CityShare/ Canada This real-time crowdsourced platform available in both French and English shows how we are collectively responding to Covid 19 with remarkable ingenuity and generosity. All across the country there are ground up initiatives to fill unmet needs and help people to reach out to each other. At the time of this writing there were over 400 initiatives from every quarter, from the CBC, Community Colleges, First Nations, Public Libraries, to companies, unions, agencies, individuals and groups of all kinds with advice on getting access to everything from women’s shelters to housing for healthcare workers with links, interactive maps and sourcing for volunteers, it shows our extraordinary capacity for improvising in the face of a crisis and system gaps.  

We are a generous and resourceful people. While we definitely need, more than ever, the capacity of government and its ability to deliver programs at scale for all of us, this kind of ground up response is the essential counterpoint. It is a direct and immediate human response enabled now by the digital world to decentralize and democratize, to tap into people power.  This is yet another example of a legacy forged under duress that we will ideally carry forward. 

This Night was Truly Different 

 Post Date: Thursday April 9, 2020. 

This cartoon is humorous because it is absolutely true. This is exactly how my family got together on Zoom for the 2 nights of Passover. The question is one of the ‘4 Questions” usually asked by the youngest child at the Seder table to elicit the telling of the story of the Exodus and liberation from bondage. It is doubly poignant now because we are all in a peculiar form of bondage not imposed by one nation or group on another but by an invisible microscopic virus that is carried by each of us. We are for the moment each other’s bondsmen. 

 There has always been an aspect of universality to the telling this liberation story. It usually leads from the account of the freeing of the Israelites in biblical times to calling attention to the plight of others who have suffered and are still suffering in similar ways.  And there is another aspect of universality. Passover, Easter and Ramadan all fall roughly at the same time and signal the arrival of spring and new beginnings. Cementing this commonality there have been a series of broadcasts with Rabbis, Pastors and Imams all on air together talking about how they and their congregations are all improvising to deal with this common need to celebrate together and to stay together in spite of physical distancing.

 The urge to connect, to see each other at this time  is powerful, to experience if not the actual taste of the special food we would have shared and vicariously imagine that we are enjoying it together. We do the best we can with the technology available.  Another inspiring example is this video of the Israel Philharmonic orchestra playing a Passover medley, each member at home but still very much together. 

 After getting together online Eti and I were out on the balcony with our pots and pans to make some noise and express our thanks for the dedicated health care workers. Every night there are a few more of us. This nightly ritual is one of the few opportunities we have to actually see each other and affirm that we are still here.  The balconies which were essentially very private have taken on a new meaning as shared public space. 

Cracks in the Sidewalk?

 Post Date: Wednesday April 8, 2020. 

 Jordan Himmelfarb writes about an unwarranted fear of social breakdown as a result of impacts of Covid 19. It is impressive how people have supported the actions of our governments in Canada despite the fact that we have essentially shut down the economy to observe physical distance, and there has been a remarkable lack of partisan bickering or gamesmanship. In many ways we seem to be pulling together. We are taking bold steps and trusting the advice we are getting from public health experts. 

 What we are not seeing so far is a “dystopia of crumbled institutions and adversarial individualism”.  Sacrifices are being made to protect ourselves and each other. Neighbours helping others and front line workers taking great risks to help all of us. One of the important takeaways is the power of collective action in the face of adversity. This is an important antidote the declining trust in government, in evidence and in expertise that we were perhaps seeing prior to the advent of the virus. The key question is will this stick. Will we, Jordan Himmelfarb asks, remember how we got through this together? Will it have a lasting impact and enable us to make fundamental changes in other areas that have gone begging for cohesive action to maintain this sense of solidarity? 

 Through the harsh light of the pandemic we are seeing significant frays in the social fabric, inequities which have been there all along. They are showing up in who is most vulnerable. In many case it is the very people we now depend on most, the underpaid service workers, those who are poorly housed, who have insecure employment and few benefits, who are unable to shift to working from home, who are most at risk.   

 One clue in Toronto is who has to take the bus every morning to endure a harrowing commute, the part-time cleaners, the delivery people and others who are now providing essential services. While the TTC is reporting losses of 80% system wide some bus routes are still crowded particularly in the city’s northwest and southwest industrial areas where wages are low for shift work and there is no choice, and in neighbourhoods identified by the city as having a higher percentage of low-income households and lower access to jobs.   

 There is a social, economic and racial justice issue. In the US we have seen black Americans dying in disproportionate numbers. This disparity is stark in cities like New Orleans, Chicago and Detroit. In Chicago, for example where only 30% of the population is black, they account for 70% of all coronavirus cases in the city and more than half of the deaths in the state.   

 There are a number of factors at work including concentration in urban areas and working in essential industries with only 20% of black workers reporting that they can work from home.  There is also a high prevalence of Covid-19 among those suffering from obesity, high blood pressure and diabetes –more common among black Americans. Clearly an aggravating factor is the lack of access to health insurance. 

 The heightened vulnerabilities revealed by the pandemic for different parts of our population are a powerful call for action. There is no escape from our interdependence. How one community is treated affects all communities. This has major implications for social equity in our cities - decent housing, job security and reliable health care for all. 

Un-Crowding 

Post Date: Tuesday, April 7, 2020 

CONTRIBUTORS

Laura Derksen, Professor in health system strategy, University of Toronto, wrote a thought provoking column in which she questions the wisdom of a complete shutdown of parks as a response to Covid 19.  

A panicked reaction would suggest full closure, not just playground structures but also sports fields, dog parks, beaches and all provincial parks including their green spaces and trails. This would eliminate risk in terms of social distancing in all these spaces, but what about the collateral damage, the unforeseen consequences? And she makes a very powerful point. If parks are completely off limits, will we not create even greater risk when people crowd into the few remaining outdoor public places, narrow sidewalks and limited trails? 

 In other areas we have drawn a line in terms of what is essential. LCBOs, grocery and hardware stores, ride-sharing and food delivery services are considered essential and remain open. So aren’t parks, time spent in nature also essential? Parks play a vital role in troubled times for our mental health and physical health which would be sacrificed. Isn’t there a way to still receive their benefits while limiting the rate of spread of the virus? 

 This is yet another case where public benefits collide and the absolute in one is the enemy of the good in another. The measures we adopt will no doubt be in place for a considerable time. The desire to be outside, to walk and get some fresh air as the weather warms will be irresistible.  The challenge is to keep the beneficial qualities it provides and still be safe. Can we not find ways to ‘un-crowd’ our parks and public spaces as opposed to a complete shutdown? 

The real issue is not the parks themselves, but overcrowding within them. It is tempting to make this an all or nothing response but we can be creative in balancing critical needs improvising for now with what we have.  In part this is changing customs and habits like washing hands or sneezing in our elbows, extending our new found culture of social distancing into the way we use park spaces through education and guidance as well not just enforcement.  

 Streets are also a great untapped resource with lanes that can be commandeered as tactical linear park extensions adding space for walkers and cyclists where there is space for physical separation for all or part of the day. 

 The bigger long term issue that this pandemic is pointing to is the relative poverty of our public realm, the fact that it is not generous enough to be resilient. Our parks are too few and far between; our sidewalks are generally way too narrow. We need to bite the bullet and reallocate space with in our rights-of-way for public use, not prioritizing vehicular traffic and cramping pedestrians. We need to commit to expanding and developing a generous and expansive network of public spaces so we can ‘un-crowd’ in times of need and simply enjoy them in better times. 

A Fork in the Road 

 Post Date: Monday, April 6, 2020

 So which road will we take? And can we scale up that pivot?

The big ideas around alternative futures are out there. Ed Yong in the Atlantic quotes Illan Goldenberg who points out that in the aftermath of WW II or 9/11 the big transitions “were not about a bunch of new ideas”, the ideas were already out there. The same could be said now. The question is what is the capacity for a ‘societal pivot’ the ability to act on some of those ideas and accept big massive changes that challenge current assumptions and inertia. 

And in what direction? Doomsday scenarios spring readily to mind, a move to authoritarianism in a political surveillance state, an embrace of narrow interests and introverted nationalism, a retreat from each other and from city life into protected enclaves. But what if, and here Ed Yong is specifically addressing his compatriots,  America takes the opposite lesson from this crisis and returns to its wellspring of  communal spirit, picking up another side of its national character and traditions and  we see a repudiation of “America first” politics. After World War II, the US pivoted from isolationism to international cooperation. Could that lead to renewed forms of global partnership focused on solving challenges like pandemics and climate change.

In Canada the major unfinished business on the national agenda is how to pivot from an overdependence on fossil fuel extraction as a mainstay of the economy. The petroleum industry demands a lifeline to survive the devastation which in fact has a number of causes unrelated to the pandemic. Others see a path through it to a cleaner future, without dependence on oil and its heavy greenhouse gas emissions. Elizabeth May, parliamentary leader of the Green Party of Canada puts it starkly: “The climate crisis is a larger public health threat than COVID-19. We can’t allow a slower-moving but more dangerous threat to be lost in the shuffle of an immediate threat. At its worst, COVID-19 could cause tens of millions of deaths around the world. At its worst, the climate emergency could end human civilization.” Of course this transition, this weaning has to done with care and regard for those who have invested and who have been dependent on this industry, but it has to be done. 

 The sense of an existential linkage between the pandemic and threat posed by climate change keeps coming up. In A Slient Spring is Saying Something by Roger Cohen in the NY Times makes a similar point. 

If we fail to meet this test, to “do things differently at the other end of this scourge…. more equitably, more ecologically, with greater respect for the environment…(we)  will be smitten again. Next time the internet will collapse. The passage from real world to virtual world to no world will then be complete.

It is not easy to resist such thoughts, and perhaps they should not be resisted, for that would be to learn nothing.” 

Pivoting 

 Post Date: Sunday, April 5, 2020

 This from John Evans, Everline president “

 “We want to be part of the solution to keep people safe during this crisis. I was so fortunate to discover that this is actually feasible and affordable for clients – and could potentially save lives. I felt it was my duty as a Canadian and as a human being to concentrate my company’s resources, so that we could help in any way possible. There is not a better time to get this work done, and we are ready to work around the clock to help out. Line painting machines are uniquely effective by being mobile and can apply disinfectant with a concentrated blast that will blow this virus into oblivion.”

In the current crisis we are learning about the remarkable capacity we have as society to pivot, to take manufacturing that was designed to produce one kind of thing or widget and literally overnight or in a few days produce something else that is urgently needed to combat the global COVID-19 crisis. 

 Here are two of many examples where the response was immediate and voluntary. Inksmith, a company in Kitchener Waterloo that was making educational devices – 3D printers is now turning out hundreds of thousands of face shields. The shift was made over a weekend and rapidly ramped up with some of the materials from other local companies. 

 Everline Coatings and Services, a company in Calgary doing line painting on roads and parking lots and repurposing its line painting and asphalt maintenance equipment to disinfect surfaces public spaces across Canada.  

 Resiliency not about stock piling what we might need for every eventuality, we cannot possibly do that, but being able to pivot. This is a particular skill of the private sector and now enabled by emerging technologies that are nimble and flexible. In both these cases and many others it is not that something brand new is being invented from scratch but that we are building on what we know, and skills, ingenuity and machinery we already have. Government moves more slowly and methodically but it can enable and support these kinds of rapid responses.  

 For these young business owners the motivation is not primarily about profit, it is about responding to an emergency because they are members of society and want to help their fellow human beings in ways that they can. This is tapping a deep resolve, a recall of what earlier generations did in their way in moments of great need. 

Because We Are All Human

 Post Date: Saturday, April 4, 2020 

 This morning I had the sensation on my excise bike of sitting in a cockpit overlooking the city like a landscape or seascape. It triggered a memory from years ago in St. Paul when I used to stay in a converted Tow Boat on the Mississippi in the heart of the downtown. I had a makeshift room in the captain’s quarters looking out on the river and seeing the city come to life. Last night I had a strange and very satisfying dream sequence. After some event which kept me confined I decided to go for a ride on my bike at dawn as the snow and ice were melting. It was a liberating feeling. I guess it expresses a longing. 

 Rick Salutin wrote an excellent column in the Star yesterday on Covid 19 as the “ultimate identity”. I think he is really on to something. As he points out human beings always aspire to be part of something larger than themselves and now that thing is Covid 19. It touches us all, like it or not, in the multiple ways it has impacted our lives. It is a great leveller of all other distinctions and while class, race and ethnicity, regions and locales are still important they are for now subsumed under the great umbrella of our shared identity as vulnerable humans. 

 We can easily imagine a high and relentless fever, not being able to breathe attached to a ventilator. It touches some deep wellspring of empathy. That could be me or someone close to me. This feeling of a shared identity in the face of this hidden killer is resonating with Canadians who have already gone some distance in our embrace, pre Covid 19, of an identity of diversity. .  It is not about how it is affecting this group or that but how it is affecting all of us. Many of the previous rivalries and recriminations seem less relevant, set aside for now. In all of our conversations these days we express our care for each other, from our local neighbourhood when we stand on our balconies and porches every evening with our pots and pans to our sharing of stories across national and sub-national boundaries.  

 But unfortunately this moment reveals and cuts both ways. In other places sadly, it has been caught up in polarized politics, the US and Brazil being prime examples led by incompetent leaders with a poor grasp of the threat.  There we see an inclination to seek advantage, to blame and demonize, a failure to provide leadership and a move to pit one part of a country against others, to attack governors who are defending their states to claim what’s mine is mine when it comes to sharing resources, and tragically to stir up resentments like calling Coved 19 a “Chinese Flu” or a “Wuhan Flu”.  And in other parts of the world it has encouraged xenophobia fed by fear and a hardening of attitudes toward the 70 million refugees and asylum seekers living in wretched conditions and highly vulnerable. (Even in Canada where the overwhelming reaction is not that we have seen some of that reflex). 

 Hopefully the impulse to come together, led from the ground up will prevail responding to the simple fact of the human condition – acknowledging our interdependence in the face of an existential threat which none of us can solve or escape alone. I do believe there is a powerful tidal pull around our shared destiny as inhabitants of our one and only planet earth. I am reminded of the emotional reactions of the astronauts seeing the earth from space – this fragile green and blue planet in its rare beauty. 

Voices of Solidarity 

 Post Date: Friday, April 3, 2020 

 Eti and I had a skype last evening with my son Paul, his wife Ayako, and the granddaughters Hana and Sara and before that I had a call with Paul. In some strange way the virus is pulling us together.  

My grandson Martin calls me almost every day in the afternoon. Yesterday we just talked and then he was demonstrated all the things he is learning about different computer platforms and even how he is exploring “coding”, the commands behind what he sees on the screen. I am so impressed by his growing skills and by his curiosity and drive to learn at only 8 years old. He already has much to teach me! 

 This morning I was asked to provide a 1 minute video as part of Voices of Solidarity in the face of the pandemic sponsored by the United Nations Economic Development Forum. It was hard to decide what to emphasize in 1 minute so I came up with the 2 versions below – one about human kindness as a resource and the other our relationship to healing the planet - and eventually went with the second. They asked me write it out to control the time for my delivery but it sounded stiff when I read it so eventually I just spoke to the points. 

I am Ken Greenberg, an urban designer and city builder based in Toronto, Canada

If you believe, as I do, that human beings are resilient and have enormous capacity to pull together in the face of shared threats it is uplifting to see the extraordinary efforts of dedicated health care workers, governments at all levels and most especially volunteers who are coming forward in the most generous and courageous ways. And we find ourselves in our isolated quarters, some completely alone and some with family and loved ones, the final resource we have to tap to its fullest is individual human kindness, not to allow small aggravations to fester, showing even more sympathy, good listening and care for each other in our small lifeboats.

If you believe, as I do, that human beings are resilient and have enormous capacity to pull together in the face of shared threats then this pandemic may have something to teach us. Around the world, CO2 emissions are visibly way down with region-wide restrictions shrinking traffic, and cancelling non-essential air travel. As it subsides can we now summon the will to permanently take major steps to change our lives in ways that reduce emissions from commuting, curtail over-consumption and reduce emissions from fossil fuel-powered factories and shipping? Will we become more aware of and responsible for our personal and collective environmental footprints?

We are all in this together. 

Escape to Asbridge’s Bay

 Post Date: Thursday, April 2, 2020 

 We tried to go for a walk on the Leslie Street Spit (Tommy Thompson Park) yesterday thinking there would be few people and more space to keep our distance. It was closed for construction and we ended up walking over to Ashbridge’s  Bay.  In fact there were a lot of people, cycling and walking, keeping some social distance, but probably not enough.  Although it was a weekday, there were probably even more people than normal.  The irony was that this was exactly the working to create with people enjoying public life outdoors. The day was achingly beautiful, warm and sunny; the city was splendid. The many new projects coming up all around us spoke to the vitality and momentum we have created in recent years. It was a perfect demonstration of all the things I wrote about in my book Toronto Reborn. 

 Sadly it was quite literally a poisonous beauty, tempting us, drawing us into its clutches to do the very things that are now making each other sick and killing us during this Covid 19 pandemic. Tempting us to think that it is just me and if I do this it will still be fine, but this is obviously not the case.  I was struggling with feelings of guilt and fear and the more people I saw the worse I felt, knowing the collective impact. I woke up this morning hearing on the radio yet again and even more forcefully that we have to stop doing this and probably for months to come, a very hard but necessary pill to swallow.    

 As this unfolds we seem to be in the crosshairs between two time frames, dealing with the urgent here and now and people’s dire needs and at the same time preparing for renewal, what comes next.  We are going through a daily and painful triage as things we have taken for granted are put under stress. What is essential both now and going forward? What to hold on to and keep afloat, our public transit systems, our local main streets, our small businesses.  Where should we let go and where use the opportunity prepare for the shift. Tensions that were already there are heightened.  For example should the country keep investing scarce resources heavily in the petroleum industry as a mainstay of the Canadian economy or is this down time exactly what we need to decisively pivot to the green economy?  

 I heard this prose poem today by Kitty O’Meara today which reads like a proverb and it really struck a chord in its simplicity and directness: 

 And the People Stayed Home 

And the people stayed home. And read books, and listened, and rested, and exercised, and made art, and played games, and learned new ways of being, and were still. And listened more deeply. Some meditated, some prayed, some danced. Some met their shadows. And the people began to think differently.

And the people healed. And, in the absence of people living in ignorant, dangerous, mindless, and heartless ways, the earth began to heal.

And when the danger passed, and the people joined together again, they grieved their losses, and made new choices, and dreamed new images, and created new ways to live and heal the earth fully, as they had been healed.

If only….

April Fool’s Day 

Post Date: Wednesday, April 1, 2020 

Eti pointed out to me this evening evening that April Fool’s Day had come and gone and we had seen none of the usual pranks.  I guess nothing is that funny right now and that kind of humour might not be well received. It was a shock to see Chris Cuomo on CNN, gaunt and ashen faced and broadcasting from his basement, announcing that he had tested positive. We feel like we know him by now and it brought a painful immediacy to what is happening as more and more people succumb. The situation in NYC and in the US generally is dire. And more and more cases are showing up in Ontario and Canada as well. 

A heartfelt note from Pino DiMascio at Sidewalk with whom I had shared a post.  He sees COVID is a cosmic message to humanity, reminding us that we are one collective organism functioning in unison with all forms of life on this earth. That lifeform is in pain and is fighting back against the organism within (that is us) which is doing the damage. The hopeful part may be that we are being given an opportunity to reassess and do less damage and at the same time better care for and relate to each other. As valuable as the virtually total reliance on technology is now, it is a forced experiment in how we don't want to live and of the importance of real and meaningful social interactions.       

As I continue to work online with many colleagues in Brampton, Cambridge, Sidewalk Labs, Downsview and elsewhere the inescapable awareness of this moment, even if unspoken, is fundamentally changing the way we approach things. There is a greater openness to new possibilities and to new forms of collaboration, an enhanced sense of urgency. If anything it is underscoring the irreplaceable value of the shared places we are vacating and the limits to which digital space can ever be a viable substitute.   

The aftermath of social distancing will present an opportunity to reflect on what all this has meant. There was a conversation this morning with municipal urban designers from around the region about a gathering to take place in the fall to reflect on what we learned and how it will re-shape our approach to city-building. A few starting points might be: prioritizing the need for designing socially-inclusive communities as a core aspect of resiliency; integrating planning and design with public health in a more direct way; getting out of silos and a greater willingness to collaborate across disciplines, departments and agencies and sectors to solve complex problems; and building in redundancy to ensure choices as fallback mechanisms. And of course making use of the vastly accelerated use of digital technology for communication and problem solving. 

These may be real collateral benefits from this terrible trial by fire. 

Analog natives in a Digital World 

Post Date: Tuesday, March 31, 2020  

I woke this morning at 5am from a vivid dream. I was in a grocery store where I knew the very friendly owner. He invited me to go into the back room to pick out what I wanted from the freshest produce. He had a jerry-rigged scale to weigh things back fitted out with blocks of wood and pieces of metal. It was as simple and low tech as it could possibly be. As I tried to figure out where this dream came from I realized that in all my dreams lately there are no computers, no cell phones and no hint of the Covid 19 virus. I think it is a kind of denial and resistance to what is going on in the waking world. 

The loss of meaningful contact with the world outside and other people is no longer abstract and intellectual.  Even though I have been thinking and writing about this for years related to technology and an overenthusiastic embrace of the virtual. It is hitting home in a very direct way. We are being force marched into online shopping, online check deposit and in fact online everything. While I readily acknowledge that technology is now saving us and am grateful but at the same time depending on it to this extent feels unnatural. There is a distancing and loss of control which is uncomfortable; it feels antiseptic and detached.  

This is generational for sure. We are survivors from another time dimension, resolute ‘analog natives’ not ‘digital natives’, strangers in a strange land of bits and bytes cut off from our natural habitat. We are being asked to converse in a language which is not our mother tongue. We can do this and are adjusting but we bridle and resist. We don’t relish it; something fundamental is missing. There is a form of sensory deprivation like experiencing the world through the invisible plastic shield that we used to see on TV advertisements that would protect our teeth from decay.  

Eti and I are experiencing ‘city withdrawal’. We are Luddites with an old fashioned addiction to the world of things that have weight and texture. Our territory is the city where we can walk every day and take in all of its unpredictable messiness. We miss the tactile, the senses – sound, taste, smell and touch. We can’t fully breathe and it is not because of the virus. Navigating this world feels like walking up to our necks in water, or in air that is too thin, not enough oxygen. 

We are passive-aggressively resisting the headlong plunge into all things digital. We have resolved to start playing sheshbesh (backgammon) and scrabble because the ‘rocks’ and wooden tiles are moved by hand and have a tangible reality. 

While we do appreciate the new and all of its possibilities we still need to be grounded IRL (as the acronym has it “in real life”). We want to have both. This has shed a new light on my work with Sidewalk Labs and my hopes for Quayside. Success would be a place where technology is the background support not the foreground which would be an exuberant expression of public city life. In the end paraphrasing Churchill’s famous quote re buildings  “We shape our technology and in turn it shapes us.”

I am starting to feel that this pandemic can be read as some kind of cosmic signal to humanity.  If that is the way you are going people, here is a push, go all the way. Perhaps this is a great cautionary tale. It brings to mind Jacques Tati’s film Playtime with its disembodied city of mirrored buildings only reflecting each other with a soundtrack of ubiquitous elevator music, a prescient calling out of a dehumanized sterility in the making. Or the Truman Show in its all-encompassing bubble. 

What are seeing now is quite literally a demonstration of what the world is when we are forcefully pulled away from each other – 2 meters or peering mutely through the window – and don’t get any closer. Life (with others) is dangerous for your health like the warning on cigarette packages. But in the process of distancing we also risk unmooring ourselves from physical reality itself, not just each other, but the ground we walk on and share. This is starting to feel a little bit like an intergenerational cri de coeur, a plea for the real not just the ersatz when the virus passes. The pigeon is back again today and this is somehow reassuring. 

Watching Kelly Andersen’s “My Brooklyn”

Post Date: Monday, March 30, 2020

 We watched a hard-hitting documentary the other day called “My Brooklyn” by filmmaker Kelly Anderson. Having lived in a number of Brooklyn neighbourhoods, she watched them change and lose their diversity as low-income and racialized residents were pushed out, and realized painfully that she and her family had part of that process ofgentrification. 

 I was attracted by the title because Brooklyn is where I was born, and where I lived off and on while growing up. The film zeroes in on one particular neighbourhood around the Fulton Street Market in Downtown Brooklyn, a popular and profitable Caribbean and African-American shopping destination with a unique ambience that I had gotten to know when I was working on the plans for the nearby Brooklyn Bridge Park in the late 90s and early 2000s. 

 The film tells a poignant tale of the wanton destruction of a community. In essence it got blown apart by a massive influx of development, in a brutal and aggressive way, through rezoning and multimillion-dollar development deals. Kelly Anderson tracks the money from the political actors to the developers and eventually the condo purchasers who benefited from a 10-year property tax holiday. And as thriving small businesses and nearby units of affordable housing were displaced to make way for luxury condos, the previous business owners and residents were essentially left to fend for themselves. She interviews many of the players who made this happen, plus the people who were moved out, and those who replaced them. 

 The myth that the film explodes is that the change that occurred was inevitable, that it was driven by the invisible hand of the marketplace and the inexorable law of supply and demand. In fact, it came about as the result of a set of well-orchestrated and carefully executed moves by major developers and their political allies. It reflected deep-seated racial and class prejudices which denied the economic success of the area and insisted on seeing it as a failure and in need of massive “renewal.”  In the process, an intricate and powerful web of human connections and places of cultural significance were sacrificed to an extremely dense collection of generic towers, franchise outlets and big-box retail. It is these very qualities and accumulated social capital that have proven to be invaluable as we face the ravages of Covid 19.  

Cities as Survivors

 Post Date: Sunday, March 29, 2020.

 I had to remind myself several times that it is Sunday. It is becoming increasingly harder to differentiate the days. Routines do matter but there are fewer differences to use as markers. The streets are empty every day now.  

 So much thought is going into figuring out how to seize the moment, carpe diem, to see what we can learn from this terrible event to fortify us going forward. Ideas keep coming from many quarters. A few days ago on the Brookings website, Richard Florida and Steven Pedigo have laid out a 10-point program for cities in “How our cities can reopen after the COVID-19 pandemic.” Their advocacy springs from a fundamental confidence in the longevity and resilience of cities as survivors.  

 Some of their points relate to thinking differently about infrastructure and major public facing assets. As we rebound, cities will need to support many things that we have taken for granted or undervalued. Main Streets—which carry values beyond the monetary—will be in trouble. Our main streets with small-scale retailers are cultural assets and we had been losing them even before with punitive market value assessment policies determining unaffordable property taxes and gouging landlords. 

 Another vulnerable sector is the arts and creative community. It is not a frill, not a nice to have, but essential to our collective well-being and our spirit in confronting hard times. So much has gone online; we have to find ways to bring it back into the public sphere, and to pay for this.  

 Vulnerable clusters in the economy and vulnerable people have become more visible and the ways in which we depend on them more clear. Not only front line health care workers but all of the service workers, cleaners, delivery people, truck drivers and first responders are now the unsung heroes of “essential services.” Many of them have been chronically underpaid and without security or benefits. That has to be fixed.  

 The vulnerability of communities at risk has been exposed and the price of a too easy acceptance of growing income polarization made evident. We are in this together. We are quite literally vulnerable to each other and inclusion is more than a slogan. It needs to become an urgent priority for our cities that have slipped into segregation by postal code. 

 Finally there is the Achilles heel of an overreliance on big singular solutions generally, mega government with less local representation and inaccessible mega institutions. Diversity is a kind of protection, many options, many ways of doing things; subsidiarity involving local engagement are ways of spreading the risks and sharing in the benefits that cities provide, back to the point Yuval Harari made about citizen empowerment last week in the Financial Times.

Alone Together

Post Date: Saturday, March 28, 2020.

It has been a grey day. We did go for a walk but it felt uncomfortable. The beauty of the city and its endlessly interesting layered history is still there, but dodging people and feeling nervous when getting too close is dispiriting. We used to laugh at the eccentricities of Howard Hughes but I think I have now become a “germaphobe” without knowing how to be one. 

At one point in the day Eti (my wife) asked me, “how are you feeling?” My response was that I look out the window and feel a little like the tropical fish turning in circles in their aquarium peering at world they can’t ever reach. Her response was more insightful. “It’s about the people and their absence. They are the city. Take them away and it ceases to exist.” 

We are all trying to keep it together in this moment of great uncertainty and unknown duration, to hold on to some semblance of order and normalcy in our lives. We passed someone on our walk who was engrossed in planting colourful bulbs in a planter along the sidewalk. It struck me as a gesture of great confidence.

I have been thinking about the long-term effects of this period of isolation. What will its legacy be, when the daily rituals we observe together--large and serious, small and mundane--are upended? Undoubtedly our replacement by algorithms and robots is being accelerated, and yet in some ways it is our salvation, as internet-enabled technology is coming to our rescue in a time of need. Where will this take us?

We are shrinking the world through technology but is it also separating us? We are, on the one hand, squeezing together in cities but in many cases living in ever smaller households and physically disconnected--even before the virus. Like being “alone together” at adjoining tables in a café, on our devices. Sixty per cent of households in some Swedish cities now consist of only one person; for some that can be a positive choice, but now the virus is forcing us to socially distance and many of us are feeling lonely, missing the ability to talk and see each other up close. I am struck by the fact that in Brampton, where I am working, the average household size is 3.5 people, with many multi-generational families providing built-in support networks at this time. 

In an excellent article published in The New Yorker on March 23, “How Loneliness from Coronavirus Isolation Takes its Own Toll,” Robin Wright makes the point that loneliness is a consequence of the forced isolation of the pandemic. As the coronavirus forces us to socially distance, life can seem shallower, more like survival than living. Wright’s article delves into the science behind those feelings, with neuroscientists and psychologists considering the impact on the human body of the various stresses that accompany this new pathogen. Loneliness is a biological warning signal to seek out other humans, much as hunger and thirst are signal that lead a person to seek out food or water. 

Professor Steve Joordens, a University of Toronto psychologist, says much will depend on how we use our hours of confinement. The last thing we need to feel during our time trapped indoors is socially isolated. We can emerge with “all kinds of mood disorders,” says Joordens, whose research focuses on the mental health impact of isolation and epidemics. It is those daily rituals that “remind us who we are and what our purpose in life is,” he adds. “And when all that gets taken away, in the extreme sense, people really lose their sense of identity.”

And then there’s the fact that the brain has a limited bandwidth to solve problems, and our intense sociability can expand that bandwidth. We process information more efficiently in the presence of other people, than while alone. “Videoconferencing can help,” James Coan another researcher argues, “but it will require more work from the brain than physical presence would.” 

Humans around the world are now demonstrating incredible ingenuity in making virtual connections via digital platforms, from work to play, to connecting with friends and family, virtual clubs, dance parties and cocktail parties. But over the long term, this will provide diminishing returns. We still have this dire need to connect. 

It turns out we do need to the physical (not just virtual) connections that good urban places do provide after all. 

In Defense of Urban Density

Post date: Friday, March 27, 2020

On Monday an article appeared in The New York Times by Brian Rosenthal with the dramatic headline, “Density Is New York City’s Big ‘Enemy’ in the Coronavirus Fight.” In it, he argues that even though New York has tried to slow the spread of the coronavirus by closing its schools, shutting down its nonessential businesses and urging its residents to stay home, it faces a distinct obstacle in trying to stem new cases because of its “cheek-by-jowl” density. I have been thinking about this ever since. I look out the window at my neighbourhood and see the density increasing both of people living and working, and all the benefits that is bringing, the amenities, the sociability, the life on the streets and in the parks that we enjoy. Is that the problem? 

If the simple causal assertion about density were true it could lead in the aftermath of the pandemic to the abandonment or rejection of neighbourhoods like mine in Wellington Place and the urban project that I and many others have spent our entire careers working on. Would it mean a re-embrace of low density auto-oriented sprawl as a defensive measure to achieve social distance? 

We have long known that increasing urban density is the fastest way for cities to shrink their carbon footprints. Getting people closer together is one of the best antidotes to global warming. With tighter living comes less driving, more walking, more transit, and more energy-efficient homes and offices and improvements in public health. Still, at the very time when we have begun to see the era of automotive dominance and suburban sprawl was come to end, could the reaction to a pandemic push people back into their cars to move further out of the city with more highways and more low density houses, malls and parking lots scattered across the landscape? 

Is there really a dichotomy in the ways we need to approach two of the world’s greatest threats: public health and the climate imperatives? And if so, how do we reconcile it? 

Clearly we need to unpack this. First of all with there is a problem with drawing generalized conclusions from large aggregate numbers and a single variable. A great deal has to do with how people are organized and how they behave. Lloyd Alter in his Treehugger blog, “Urban Density is Not the Enemy, it is Your Friend,” points out that Asian cities like Hong Kong, Singapore, Seoul and Taipei are far denser than New York City, and yet they have had far fewer cases per capita. We have to ask ourselves why. And why some of the most vulnerable areas have been largely rural like Lombardia and the Veneto in Italy. And even in NYC why are there are significant differences among the New York City boroughs which do not correlate with density. Many of the critical factors have to do with timing and governance and intervention like early testing and extensive tracing of coronavirus cases. 

Great cities are in fact where the great health crises of the past have been met through public health measures, sanitation and vaccination. Unavoidably cities are at the forefront of dealing with the COVID-19 pandemic and will adapt in many ways as they always have when responding to new challenges. They are the engine of innovation when solving big problems, including this pandemic or the next health crisis. The quality of the health care system, preparedness, local culture has and societal mores have also played critical roles.  

Looking to the future much also has to do with design. As urban designer Jonathan Barnett has put it: “It is not how just how dense you make it, but how you make it dense.” And what do we mean by density? In The Death and Life in Great American Cities, Jane Jacobs made a critical distinction between “density” and “overcrowding” to counter the then prevalent post-war promotion of ex urban sprawl as a public health measure to get away from disease-prone slum conditions. 

Early and mid-twentieth century urban planning theorists had demonized the city and attacked city densities. They wanted to thin people out. But Jacobs pointed out that the vilification of city densities per se was misplaced. The real health problem was overcrowding, the cramming of too many people into insufficient dwellings, almost always a symptom of poverty or residential discrimination, or both. She also noted that overcrowding was not necessarily connected to density. Unhealthy overcrowding can also in low density areas and often does. 

So what does “good density” look like? Both Brent Toderian and Cherise Burda have written about “density well done.” It is clearly not just clusters of extremely tall towers in close proximity. It is about sustainable neighbourhood ecosystems supported by robust social infrastructure. There are many forms of dense, compact walkable neighbourhoods that are that are resilient and contribute to public health. Many have a mix of high- and mid-rise and include significant components of what are we now referring to as the “missing middle.” These neighbourhoods need to be dense enough to support vibrant main streets with retail and services for local needs, but ideally designed so that people can take the stairs in an emergency or breakdown. They are dense enough to support bike and transit infrastructure, and really importantly dense enough to build a sense of community, but not so dense as to be anonymous and isolating. 

For me, critical features of good density in urban neighbourhoods like what mine are social capital, resiliency and redundancy. Quoted in a balanced and thoughtful piece in Scientific American, Marilyn Brown, professor of sustainable systems at the Georgia Tech’s School of Public Policy in Atlanta argues that density in cities can make pandemics more manageable because it fosters communication and efficiency in the delivery of essential public services. Level of service is a function of population density; that is where the doctors and hospitals are. City neighbourhoods offer valuable redundancy in terms of multiple ways to get around, where the car is not the only option but you can use your bike or your feet. They offer choices about where and how to shop for basic needs including deliveries. There are opportunities for friends and family to be close by.  

For these and many other reasons I believe that it is misleading and counterproductive to jump to the overly simplistic conclusion that that density is the enemy. In the end I don’t think that the momentum of 21st-century urbanization will be derailed by COVID-19, and that large well-designed cities and urbanizing suburbs will continue to lead by developing public health and climate change solutions that depend on density, ideally done well. 

Today, my neighbourhood like many others is morose and empty from the outside. In the streets and parks, lone walkers or walkers in pairs most with dogs are patrolling like lonely shepherds with one or two sheep. Inside individual dwellings, life goes on, and people are keeping in touch in all manner of new ways. I am convinced that when the state of emergency is lifted and public health advice allows us to socialize again, street life and vitality will return and the neighbourhood will continue to grow dense and thrive. 

Planning a Better World (Not Leaving the House)

Post Date: Thursday, March 26, 2020

A day in the life in the time of COVID-19.

I find myself adapting to staying home, and a routine is starting to form as I search for ways of coping with this new sense of expanded time and compressed space. Very fortunately, even though we are confined inside, we have a great view of the outside world, looking over Victoria Memorial Square and the city skyline, so our days don’t feel so claustrophobic. I have never been so aware of the sun’s passage—where and when it comes up and sets, and the mirrored sunrise and sunset from the highly reflective buildings to the east and west of us. I also notice the cloud formations as they pass across the sky.

I have been hearing parents with kids talk about how they are homeschooling and the need for a schedule combining learning, activities, playtime etc. Like the kids, I need structure to keep my body moving, but also keep my mind active and engaged. My “curriculum” for life-long learning is not about formal academic study but continuing to learn from life itself. 

There is a rhythm to the days of plugging in and plugging out of the maelstrom of news. Morning has always been my best time for generating ideas and solving problems—I keep a notepad by my bedside to capture thoughts before they evaporate. What follows my morning routine of cycling, watching the sunrise and eating breakfast varies; it is now usually a series of video conferences and calls, punctuated by lunch with my wife, Eti.  

People are earnestly and determinedly trying to keep going. Currently it is all online “meetups” regarding my roles in Brampton, the Design Advisory Committee for Downsview, a project in Cambridge, Massachusetts, near Kendall Square, the Myseum/Toronto Experience Board and Liberty Village, among others. We all seem to be getting the technology to work smoothly now for sharing screens. It is good to see to see everyone live, while getting a glimpse of their home environments.  

 Interspersed within this round of meetings is time dedicated to writing in this diary—a very important part of my day. It is my attempt to make sense of this unprecedented upheaval. Every day I also find myself intently listening, watching, reading and in conversation trying to glean some greater understanding. It is like drinking from a firehose as I listen to the radio, watch TV and scan articles and social media searching for new insights. This is truly a situation that calls on the “wisdom of crowds.”  

 The half-hour six o’clock news on CBC comes next, filling a need to know where things stand (which is more and more devastating), followed by dinner. Right at 7:30 PM we are out on the balcony to bang pots and pans to show our support for the amazing efforts of the health care providers. Because of the confined angle from our balcony we only see a few of our neighbours but we can hear more of them. I imagine what it would be like if all the people in the buildings around the park were [also showing support by making noise]. 

 Next we watch a film for relief and something completely different, (lately food has been a theme). And then it is back to the news we have recorded on PVR. After which it is exhaustion and bed.

 This cycle of daily rituals starts again the next day.  

Wednesday, March 25, 2020

I started off the day with a successful online meeting about a community hub. It involved some 20 people: Brampton City staff, a developer and their consultants, those consultants working on the program and design for the hub. After a rocky start staring a mute screen with no audio we were able to get the technology to work it was truly impressive how quickly we have adapted to the process of screen sharing and multi-party discussions online and how much we were able to get done.

Something I have been talking about today with my colleagues in the design world is the value of building in redundancy as a key factor in making cities resilient, ensuring that there are multiple ways of doing things when one system, network or mechanism fails. The most obvious example is how the internet has come to the rescue as a way of maintaining social cohesion in a time of physical distancing, but others come to mind like being able to walk or bike when it is uncomfortable to share tight spaces in transit vehicles, activating local supply chains when longer ones no longer work, using public buildings for multiple purposes like transforming the immense Javits Convention Center in NYC to a field hospital, converting production lines to new purposes in the breech like shifting from perfume to hand sanitizers etc. It leads to a way of thinking about designing things, places and systems to be inherently multi-valent, capable of many uses and interpretations and nimble conversion.

A non-physical corollary is the tapping of social capital. Studies of cities experiencing terrible heat waves, for example, showed that neighbourhoods–even less affluent ones–where residents knew each other, and had a sense of belonging to a community, were more inclined to look out for each other, particularly the elderly. In times of great need, this accumulated social capital is converted into a valuable resource for self and community preservation.

Sunday, March 22, 2020

I am simultaneously immersed in two realities this morning: outside through the windows, and inside listening to the radio and connected to world. There was a dramatic El Greco sky with intense light penetrating interspersed white and grey cloud cover. I find myself paying much more attention to all the small and ephemeral things that have passed me by before, like the speed and direction of the winds propelling the clouds across the sky and the patterns they make. The birds, those in flocks and in pairs, and the acrobatic high-flying soloists like the seagulls who seem to be practicing social distancing. My friend the industrious pigeon keeps coming back for more twigs. I track the rustling of the trees, the spruce trees on the roof, and the ones on the ground still bare, and look for emergence of shoots of green starting to come up in the planters.

Saturday, March 21, 2020

I have just now caught up with the fact that it is officially spring. I watched the sun come up for an hour from my exercise bike. It was comforting. The day is cool but we will apparently have sun all day. My pigeon was back collecting twigs for the nest.

I recall that Rahm Emanuel, former Chief of Staff to US President Barack Obama, famously said: “You never let a serious crisis go to waste. And what I mean by that it’s an opportunity to do things you think you could not do before.” In so many ways that sentiment seems to be relevant as we come to terms with the COVID-19 crisis.

The Great Depression of the 1930s had earlier taught us that market forces alone can’t always solve the problems posed by an advanced capitalist economy, and that in moments of crisis, firm government action is necessary. That was the origin of no-fault unemployment insurance and it allowed Canadians to weather several post-war recessions. But over time, this didn’t keep up with changes in the economy, notably the changing nature of work and the dramatic increase in businesses using part-time, contract and self-employed workers to cut costs by avoiding minimum labour standards. Now it is clear how insecure that makes many of us, and coverage has been extended to more of those at risk.

[Thankfully in Canada,] we are not afraid to spend for the public good. Faced with this crisis, our governments with seemingly non-partisan support are opening the purse strings with incredible speed.

Around the world, CO2 emissions are visibly way down with region-wide restrictions shrinking traffic, shuttering factories and cancelling non-essential air travel. What can be learned from this? Can we now summon the will to permanently take major steps to reduce emissions from commuting, curtail over-consumption and reduce emissions from fossil fuel-powered factories and shipping? Will we become more aware of and responsible for our personal environmental footprints?

Can we–as Rahm Emanuel suggest–make good use of this crisis? Time will tell.

Friday, March 20, 2020

I went to sleep easily but then woke up at 2 AM with thoughts crowding into my head–a delayed reaction to absorbing how things are changing. Just a few short days ago we were all so busy, communicating in sound bites because we didn’t have the time or patience for more; grabbing meals off the corner of our desks; racing from one thing to another. For so many of us, what we do every day has played a big role in defining who we are. But what if we are not doing it anymore, or doing it less and less? I feel for younger people, whose lives are being interrupted–education put on hold, careers interrupted, livelihoods and plans challenged.

This moment is profoundly reductive.

…

If you believe, as I do, that human beings are resilient and have enormous capacity to pull together in the face of shared threats, it is uplifting to see the extraordinary efforts of dedicated health care workers, governments at all levels and most especially volunteers who are coming forward in the most generous and courageous ways.  As we find ourselves in our isolated quarters, some completely alone and some with family and loved ones, the final resource we have to tap to its fullest is individual human kindness, not to allow small aggravations to fester, even more sympathy, good listening and care for each other in our small lifeboats.

…

Eti and I tried to go out for a walk, but the wind was fierce and we didn’t last very long. In the last 20 years, I have never seen Bathurst Street so empty in the middle of the day. Sitting in my office a while ago a pigeon caught my eye as it was foraging for twigs on our roof, I assume to make a nest. He or she came back five or six times and left each time with a large twig in its beak, oblivious to our distress.

…

We just went for a long walk in the sun this afternoon from our place to Coronation Park, through Trillium Park and Ontario Place and the Bentway. Walking is what many people are doing, mostly in very small groups. At one point, two young guys were setting off on a run, and as they started, one shouted to no one in particular “F*ck COVID!” as he disappeared down the trail.

Thursday, March 19, 2020 

The city is grey and somber today, somehow capturing the mood. Today, the streets are more and more empty, along with the parks and squares and all the indoor places where we have been used to congregating.

We are now learning how long this may really take. In all probability the only other human being I will be in close actual contact with for the foreseeable future is my wife, Eti.

She and I went for a short walk up to Queen Street to pick up an enlarged photograph [we ordered] as a birthday gift for a friend turning 65—there was going to be a party, but that has now been postponed. Even on the walk I found myself almost irritable and nervous as we passed others scurrying by. This need for evasion is running against my every instinct to be friendly and sociable, to smile and nod to strangers, to seek out places to have a coffee or share a moment in the company of my fellow beings.

But there is something to look forward to this evening: there will a show of support for health care workers, taking a page from Italy and Spain, tonight at 7:30 PM (and I think from now on), making noise with pots and pans from balconies, porches and windows. We are circulating the info to our neighbours.  I think we and they (the health care workers) need this and it would be a good morale booster for the building. [Follow #Cheer4HealthCareWorkers]

Wednesday, March 18, 2020

Busy today with video calls re. Brampton, first with Metrolinx and then re. Community Hubs colleagues. Everyone seems to be trying hard to keep going, despite everything by working remotely. Two more calls coming with Boston (Cambridge) and Myseum. Will catch up with my son Paul and daughter Anna again later too. Important to keep in touch.

This morning on the radio as I was exercising someone talked about the phenomenon of “staying apart to pull together” as a way of explaining what is happening to kids, why there is a redeeming social purpose to social distancing and protecting others, that this is a form of cohesion. [There was also] lots of talk about coping mechanisms, various apps, online meditation music, games, exercises etc.; dealing with our need for news but also for breaks from overload and stress. I too am experiencing mood swings, sometimes engrossed in something else, and sometimes feelings of helplessness and fatigue.

The sun, when it appears, makes a big difference. It somehow makes everything less ominous.

Tuesday, March 17, 2020

My pattern is now one of switching in and out of an alternate non-Covid 19 reality to be found in a book, listening to music, watching a movie, immersed in dreams, or simply getting absorbed in something else where the virus is not top of mind or even present and then suddenly crashing back and facing it head on. Case in point, I woke up at around 3 AM this morning from my usual busy dreams and was plunged into absorbing all the consequences of what is unfolding with the virus. It was hard to switch it off.

This shift is challenging almost everything we have believed and worked for in terms of a sociable city where see and interact with each other live in welcoming places like our neighbourhood and in daily routines that connect us with others. This is a painful withdrawal.

Looking down a long tunnel for daylight it is hard to see where, when and how this will end. A state of emergency announcement by the province this morning shut down more things and places and although it is in effect until March 31, that is sure to be extended. Little by little the calendar empties. I just learned that the entire summer program for the Bentway has been cancelled. There is already little or no difference between weekdays and weekends.

Still, we need to keep our spirits up, our minds and bodies active as this happens. Physical exercise is important–I am extending my stationary bike to an hour every morning–but we also will need to keeping our minds alert. It is clearly a good thing that we now have the internet to fall back on and hard to imagine what we would do without it. The telephone becomes a more important way again of keeping in touch. And the radio has become our lifeline. CBC news and commentary are especially important as a reliable source of information; we are fortunate to have it. But in large doses it is overwhelming.

In theory it sounds like this would be the ideal time to get immersed in some big new project–after all we have nothing but time–but so far, it is hard to focus.

…

Just had a conversation with colleagues about a new project and its prospects. It was hard not to feel subterranean caveats tugging at me even as I expressed all of my normal optimism about the future. Everyone I am involved with including at the Bentway, Myseum and Brampton is attempting to invent digital versions of themselves to carry and maintain contact with their publics and constituencies. This makes sense, and will surely result in some ingenious and positive innovations. I am worried, however, that this could become permanent and lead to a sense that shared physical places have become redundant and can be replaced by digital spaces. I fervently hope that the social distancing we are now experiencing does not become the new norm when this pandemic passes. This excellent article appeared in the New York Times by Michael Kimmelman explores this in depth [subscription required].

Today’s walk was across the yellow bridge, over the rail corridor and east along the trail to Skydome [sic], circling around on Bremner and up Simcoe to Queen, and then back to Portland and home. Admittedly not the most attractive route, but it felt eerily ominous and half like a ghost town with almost all of the shops and restaurants closed, and many fewer people out in the streets.

Trying to keep in touch with people by phone in the meantime. There is something reassuring about hearing people’s actual voices in these times, a sense of sharing the experience and caring for each other. We spoke with our friends in Vancouver when they were out for a walk in Stanley Park, which they said was largely empty.

Monday, March 16, 2020

Not even sure how to start this. The world has changed so drastically in the past few days. Six days ago, on Tuesday evening, I gave a talk at the Urban Land Institute’s “Meet the Chiefs” meeting in a ballroom with 400 people sitting at tables and sharing a meal. We did elbow bumps instead of handshakes and people were somewhat bemused, but while there was some nervousness it hadn’t really sunk in how quickly life would change.

On Wednesday, I had coffee in a local café with colleagues from Denmark, talking about opportunities for architects in Toronto. Everything still felt almost normal. By Thursday as the news reports came in all of my meetings had become phone calls; Friday was my last sort-of normal day. I somewhat nervously went to Brampton for a series of meetings. I drove instead of taking the GO train, to avoid Union Station and the train, and used the ubiquitous hand sanitizers at every opportunity. We all realized that this would be the last face-to-face meeting for some time to come. And in fact, shortly afterwards, Brampton announced the shutdown of City Hall.

Saturday afternoon, Eti and I were on our own and we went for one long walk, carefully keeping our distance from others as we walked up Spadina, across College and back through Kensington Market. By this time, bombarded with news from around the world and locally, we had realized that these walks and possibly drives would be our only activity outside our apartment.

On Sunday, we took the car and drove up to Downsview where I am working on a project and did a couple of walks around the park and through a ravine trail leading to the park from the neighbourhood to the west, consciously keeping a distance from others. It was a beautiful sunny day and the vista from the park was quite captivating. A few people were out walking and driving back and forth the city still seemed almost completely normal in contrast with the dire news were hearing on the radio in the car as events unfolded.

Today is Monday, and as I awoke, some realizations started to sink in, from the macro all-encompassing to the micro and personal.

At some level–and I know this sounds melodramatic–I have a feeling somewhere that this COVID-19 pandemic disrupting everything on earth for humans is a cosmic wake up call, a warning that we have been abusing the planet, too embroiled in pointless disputes, and narrow self-interested economic pursuits to see the bigger picture and focus on our collective survival as a species, and our obligations to steward the natural and human ecosystems we are part of.

We are being forced to acknowledge, willingly or not, our extraordinary interdependence–the fact that everything and everyone is connected to everything and everyone else. That … we are all connected and vulnerable together. We are in a profound sense, like it or not, our brothers and sisters keepers. We are truly in this together.

**

[Questions arise]…When will we resume regular activities? Events? Working together, holding face to face meetings? How will this affect people’s livelihoods? How many businesses will disappear? In other words when will things change and how? When can we become sociable again? And what does this do for life in public and social cohesion? How does it affect loneliness and isolation? What happens when we start to fear each other over time? These are hard things to ponder.

Very personally now here are some more hard questions. When will Eti and I be able to resume our professional lives, to see people and do things? When will my jobs resume? When can she teach Tai Chi again? Will this be a matter of weeks or months or many months? Or even longer?  And it of course is not just about us. How about all of us whose lives are being turned upside down?

And finally not to be morbid there is this: if 50% of us are going to be infected, our odds of getting the virus are 1 in 2. We are in the category of most vulnerable seniors. If we get this there is a risk that we will get seriously ill. What does that mean for us? There is a chance that, hopefully remote, one or both of us may not survive this. This is going to a dark place, but it has to be acknowledged that the thought has occurred to me. If our lives were cut short now have we lived to the fullest? Have we contributed what we could? For now we have a special obligation to draw as close to each other and the ones we love and care about as possible because no one really knows what is coming.

This is the maelstrom of thoughts from the cosmic to the mundane, from the broad questions of society to the most personal and intimate, swirling through my head. More to come.

… 

Later on Monday…The sense of urgency is increasingly palpable. I am typing as I am listening to non-stop announcements on the radio. Things keep evolving, with Federal, Provincial and Municipal announcements. Restaurants and bars now ordered closed in Toronto. France shuts down completely like Spain and Italy. Aid for businesses announced and for more sick leave in the province without conditions.

Earlier we went for another walk, this time heading west along King Street past the rail corridor and back through Liberty Village. Trying to do this daily for as long as we can, since it is just about all we can do outside the apartment. Cool but sunny. Felt a little edgy and sensed some uneasiness among other walkers or was I just imagining that reflecting my own feelings. There is a kind of dissociated reality.  Each new step is announced with the caveat “at this time.” On the one hand we hang on to life as usual. On the other we are bracing for the worst. Time feels heavy and ominous.