No matter what your profession, you’ve probably been to your share of conferences. From professional to academic, trade shows to think tanks, conferences are still the most popular way to share your research and ideas with a larger audience. In academia, paper presentations and face-to-face networking with other academics are still the norm even in our increasingly wired society. Similarly, practicing planners share their policies, plans and tools with each other at the Canadian Institute of Planners/American Planning Association conferences, and their provincial and state equivalents.

I confess that while I gain a lot from these events, and often meet other interesting researchers in the field, I find the whole thing a bit draining. Several days of listening to presentations and networking is tiring. The other thing is that there seems to be a divide in the types of people these conferences attract: practicing planners go to one conference and academics to another. It’s rare that you have that blend of practicing planners, academic researchers, and those working in municipal, regional and federal policy development.

Last March, students at SCARP organized such an event on sustainability, and I wrote in an earlier post about the success of this one-day symposium and our PhD panel on research dissemination. SCARP repeated the success of this event with another one-day symposium on affordable housing funded by the BC provincial government and several key sponsors like VanCity and the Planning Institute of BC. Papers were presented by both Masters and PhD planning students, municipal planners, housing developers, architects, and more. It was a rare confluence of research, policy development and practical planning tools that have impacted the construction of affordable housing in Canada. Some of the sessions I attended included Haley Mousseau (BC Non-Profit Housing Association) on the long-term survival of non-profit housing units in the province; Andy Yan (Bing Thom Architects) on the impact of empty condos on Vancouver, and Vanessa Kay (internship for the City of Vancouver) research on the long-term costs associated with amenity spaces in Vancouver condos.

The breadth of experience in the room was palpable, and it was easy to strike up conversations over breakfast, lunch, and the cocktail hour with (in my case) the director of a shelter, a housing provider in a suburban municipality, a planning consultant working extensively on housing development, an academic researcher looking at sustainable neighbourhoods, a PhD candidate in geography at UBC, and a Masters student who had travelled from northeastern US to attend the symposium. Best of all, the one-day format kept things moving and packed a lot of information into a short amount of time. The only problem I overheard participants discussing was that there were concurrent sessions, so it was impossible to hear all the presentations.

It’s easy for us to become entrenched and isolated in our little silos, whether it’s a municipal department of planning or an academic faculty. Events like this provide a rare opportunity to share our work with a wider audience and to learn from a variety of different viewpoints. The short length of the symposium effectively limited participation to those within a short distance of the host city, forcing people to develop better ties in their own locality. While there is a place for big conferences, and connecting with people over continents who share our interests, it’s a sad fact that few of us have the time to create or maintain local research/practice networks outside the context of our immediate projects.

Next week I’ll be attending another rather unconventional conference, or rather “un-conference” called TransportCamp, which uses multimedia techniques to foster dialogue between participants. A similar event was held in Toronto in April 2008. I’m skeptical, but I’ll let you know how it turns out.

Many researchers are concerned about ethnic concentrations in our cities, particularly in the US. Researcher Rich Benjamin’s latest book Searching for Whitopia: an Improbable Journey into the Heart of White America, examines why the fastest-growing areas in the US are also the whitest. He defines “whitopias” as areas that are over 75% white, and for the book he focused on places with a higher than 6% growth rate since 2000. The idea was also raised by Bill Bishop, who wrote The Big Sort (2008) which documents the trend for Americans to live in increasingly homogenous communities where everyone has the same religious and political values. Both authors agree that this is bad for Americans; Bishop’s book is subtitled “Why the Clustering of Like-Minded America is Tearing Us Apart.” It seems like Richard Sennett was right after all.

Decades ago in The Uses of Disorder (1970) Sennett argued that suburbs were a fascist social control that created a more intolerant society, one that was more individual-based rather than community-based. He wrote that suburbs tended to exacerbate the natural inclination of people to associate with others with similar values, even banding together to exclude people of different cultures and religions.

In the US, Bishop and Booth write that the roots for this type of voluntary segregation can be seen in the 1960s, when the courts demanded integration of African Americans and “white flight” first began. Recently, minorities are increasing in the inner suburbs fairly close to city centers, spurring whites to flee to exurban areas, which can be over an hour from the city. Benjamin says that many of these are older white Americans who fear an increasing role of government and a loss of power in the face of demographic shifts. Older whites traditionally have more political power because they are more likely to vote, but as of 2042 whites will no longer be the majority in the US.

Echoing Sennett, both Bishop and Benjamin argue that segregation into class-based, race-based neighbourhood leads to more clashes between groups, as each becomes entrenched in its own position and values. Bishop writes that this type of stalemate leads to some innovative policy at the metropolitan and state levels, but a lack of transformative change in the US.

The argument is very interesting from a Canadian viewpoint, where many of our suburban areas are very mixed because of our consistently high immigration rates. Unfortunately, no author has taken on a book-length discussion on growth rates and ethnicity in Canadian cities, but there is plenty of statistical evidence that shows Canada moving in a very different direction than the US. In Metro Vancouver, suburban municipality Port Moody had the highest growth rate in the region, followed by Surrey. Richmond and Vancouver had much lower rates but are still around 6%.

Metro Vancouver Growth RatesImmigration landings confirm that the vast majority of these immigrants have come from Asia, particularly mainland China and Hong Kong. Statistics Canada Community Profiles show that the proportion of immigrants is significant even in traditionally “whiter” mid-sized cities: 20% of Victoria’s population is foreign-born, as is 21% of London’s and 15% of Kelowna’s. However, visible minorities make up only 12% of Victoria’s population, 14% of the population in London and 6% in Kelowna.

Despite the mixture of ethnic groups in Canadian suburbs, the tendency towards locating among people with similar values can clearly be seen in Canadian elections. Cities emerge as islands of Liberal and NDP support in a country that has had a Conservative minority government since 2006. Have a look at southern Ontario or Vancouver in the 2008 federal election. Even Vancouver’s municipal election results show sharp dividing lines between those supporting Gregor Robertson for mayor versus Peter Ladner. Some even argue that the periodic redrawing of census tracts is linked to political agendas, but given the housing affordability crisis in most Canadian cities, it seems that the political and ethnocultural trends is less tied to cultural preferences than the geography of affordable housing.

At any rate, there are some obvious differences between Canadian and American cities, notably in the spatial concentration of ethnic populations and the absence of sharp ethnic divides. While Bishop and Benjamin trace this to civil rights era, the issue clearly goes further back to a history of slavery in the US. Canada, while having its own history of racist legislation, does not have as long of a history of non-white settlement. The Immigration Act of 1952 was the first to allow people from non-European countries to enter the country, and by that time there were fewer legal restrictions to owning land and buying property. By 1967, with another major shift in the Immigration Act, a new wave of non-white immigrants entered the country. However, they were never faced with legal barriers to homeownership or the labour market, two considerable barriers for African Americans in the US that remain entrenched today. Earlier non-white populations in Canada, notably Sikhs and Chinese in British Columbia, faced much harsher restrictions and still have the highest rates of segregation in the country today. These differences in immigration and labour market policy mean that our segregation rates are much lower than those seen in the US, yet another reason to think twice before applying American theory and reality to our own cities.

Benjamin’s and Bishop’s books do make us think about the fractured populace living just south of the border, and urge us to do more to help new immigrants integrate into their lives in Canada. Every time I travel to the US for a conference and listen to researchers documenting entrenched segregation, labour market barriers, and the “racial” biases unearthed during the mortgage crisis, I am reminded how different our countries are. This is particularly significant in my own research with immigrants in Toronto, which has introduced me to the work of many brilliant Canadian researchers and opened my eyes to our lower spatial segregation rates and more mixed neighbourhoods. However, I am also reminded of how much work still lies ahead for Canadians in recognizing immigrants’ foreign credentials, ensuring greater income equity, and promoting more tolerance in the workplace. We also need to recognize that sharp divides in tenure, such as the growth of luxury condominiums in neighbourhoods next to predominantly rental and low-income housing, can foster critical differences in political affiliation. As Sennett argued almost 40 years ago, the more isolated we are the more intolerant we become.


canada-line2

Some photos of the new Canada Line on Sunday August 23rd, on the first weekend after its opening:

1. The City Hall Station at Cambie and Broadway 2. New multi-use building across from the station.

3. Airport check-in terminal 4. One of the new trains 5. Very crowded on this first weekend

6. The train nearing Marine Drive Station 7. Marine Drive Station

8 and 9. Walking across the bridge from Marine Drive to Bridgeport. 10. Looking back at Marine Drive Station

11 ad 12. The bike/pedestrian bridge running across Fraser River between Marine Drive and Bridgeport.

13. Bridgeport Station platform 14. Bridge support

It will be really interesting how the land use changes over time. Cambie/Broadway corner (top left) has changed remarkably over the last two years with construction of the Home Depot, Canadian Tire, Whole Foods and Crossroads Centre mixed-use development. But a lot of the line goes through industrial/warehousing land like around Marine Drive and Bridgeport Stations. Their waterfront locations probably mean luxury condo development is on the way, while industrial and agricultural land uses will fall by the wayside. The train is remarkably well integrated with commercial interests, such as the seamless integration of the Bridgeport station platform into River Rock Casino.

Vancouver is one of many cities built around a deep-water port. The land around the industrial port, False Creek, has proven to be crucial in the redefinition of the city as a postmodern, postindustrial leisure place. The redevelopment of the area, now in its fourth decade, began with Granville Island and False Creek South, two 1970s projects ushered in during one of Vancouver’s most progressive political regimes. It continues today with Southeast False Creek, which includes the Olympic Village for the 2010 Winter Olympics. Travelling False Creek by boat gives a sense of the remarkable transformation the area has seen since its industrial heyday in the 1930 and 1940s.

As Granville Island factories serving the mining, forestry, construction, and shipping sectors began to fail in the 1950s, a new use for the area was needed. The 38-acre site was redeveloped as a multi-use area with a mix of industrial, artistic, market, housing, and retail uses, and is still owned and managed by Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation (CMHC), which spearheaded the redevelopment. The cement plant, one of the last vestiges of industrial use on the island, can be seen from the Granville Street Bridge.

Houseboats and industry still co-exist on Granville Island

Houseboats and industry still co-exist on Granville Island

False Creek South includes co-op housing and other mixed-income housing, which if you know anything about Canadian housing policy dates it to the 1970s when CMHC actually encouraged, and even helped fund, non-market housing and tenure types other than ownership.

Then came Expo 86. A considerable amount of former industrial land was used for the world fair, as well as constructing the Expo Center (now Science World), BC Place and the SkyTrain, to satisfy the themes of transportation and communication.

BC Place (low white stadium in front) with Yaletown development behind

BC Place (low white stadium in front) with Yaletown development behind

Expo Center, now Science World

Expo Center, now Science World

After Expo, the provincial government sold the majority of the land to Hong Kong developer Li Ka-Shing, whose Concord Pacific development company re-invented the Yaletown area. Depending on who you ask, this chain of events either spurred foreign investment in Vancouver, leading to a much-needed real estate boom and bringing it out of the pre-Expo recession…or it signalled the end of affordable housing and development for the local population in Vancouver, ushering in an era of globalization and immigration to the formerly sleepy forestry town. Probably both.

Yaletown, on the north side of False Creek

Yaletown, on the north side of False Creek

Currently under construction is Southeast False Creek, an 80-acre site which includes the Olympic Village. Billed as LEED Gold Standard construction, and with some “affordable” units (ie, a 700-sq. foot unit in Vancouver can run upwards of $400,000), the discussion over how many units would be “affordable” almost overshadowed the conversations over how to measure its sustainability. It is shocking how different such development is from the Granville Island and False Creek South initiatives, which managed to integrate a mixture of different housing types and tenure types to provide housing for a variety of income levels with the assistance of the federal and provincial governments. How the times have changed.

Olympic Village

Olympic Village

Note the sign: "Own the ultimate 2010 souvenir"

Note the sign: "Own the ultimate 2010 souvenir"

It is bittersweet to see these former industrial areas completely revamped, particularly when viewed from the water. The ships that still sail into False Creek carrying loads of freight (there is still an industrial area near Cambie Street) look almost out of place amidst all the shiny plate glass post-1990s development of Yaletown and Southeast False Creek. Most freight now heads to Burrard Inlet on the north side of the Downtown Peninsula instead. The pleasure craft, including kayaks, sailboats (including my hardy Alaska friends who are on a two-year sailing spree), powerboats and even dragon boats, look more at home in this transformed postindustrial landscape for the wealthy. Industrial land is now scarce in the region, so scarce in fact that Metro Vancouver now has plans to save what little is remaining.

The redevelopment of False Creek was both the beginning and the end for Vancouver: the beginning of a dense, urban centre with a population nearing two million, and the end of a small, provincial, densely forested town. Expo 86 is widely considered the event that “put Vancouver on the map” resulting in a population explosion and countless new business and development initiatives (read David Ley, Tom Hutton, John Punter or Katharyne Mitchell for more details). Doubtless Olympic fever will bring more of the same, for better or for worse. Transitions are always difficult, and Vancouver will soon experience more growing pains.

TransLink’s recent decision to delay construction of the Evergreen Line yet again illustrates the difficulty the regional agency has in funding projects. As I documented in a previous post, TransLink is a regional body created by the Province of British Columbia, which means it legally has only the powers given to it by the province. Their funding comes from fuel taxes, property taxes, transit fares and advertising.

In the case of large infrastructure projects such as the recently-built Canada Line, the Province and the Federal Government kick in some money. The feds are particularly swayed if the project is of national significance, hence the funding for the 19-km Canada Line during the same year Vancouver is set to host the 2010 Winter Olympics. The original SkyTrain line was constructed for Expo ’86. Usually, the balance of funding is made up through public-private partnerships. The Canada Line had the usual regional, provincial, and federal funding sources, as well as the Vancouver Airport Authority (VAA), the City of Vancouver, and private sector partner, InTransitBC, who was selected through a competitive bidding process. The total cost of the Canada Line is $1.9 billion ($2003), with the federal government contributing $419 million, the province $235, the VAA $245 million, TransLink $321 million, the City $27 million, and InTransitBC $65.3 million. TransLink will own the finished line and set fares, while InTransit BC designed the line and will operate and maintain the line for 35 years.

Like many municipalities, as a regional body TransLink has lots of legal responsibility with few fundraising abilities. Legally, the provincial and federal governments have more taxation ability, hence the Goods and Services Tax and BC’s new Carbon Tax. Yet they have been decreasing their responsibilities each year by transferring them to municipalities. The Evergreen Line had $410 million in provincial funding and $417 million in federal funding, in addition to TransLink’s $400 million. Still, the project fell $173 million short, money that TransLink expected to raise through public-private partnerships and transit-oriented development. TransLink’s proposed funding schemes, such as a parking tax and a vehicle levy, have been met with considerable public resistance.

TransLink, which regularly conducts surveys on ridership and potential ridership, has long been in favour of the 11-km Evergreen line linking Burnaby, Coquitlam, and Port Moody. While Burnaby already has the Millenium and Expo Skytrain lines, Coquitlam and Port Moody are among the fastest-growing municipalities in the GVRD and like most of the region, has no rapid transit options. The Evergreen Line was first proposed 20 years ago, and the Province has been promising its construction for five years.

TransLink also has a history of tenuous relationships with the province, as I wrote in a post about their organizational structure. Disagreements between Kevin Falcon, formerly the Provincial Minister of Transportation (2004-2009), resulted in TransLink dropping the Evergreen and UBC lines in favour of the Canada Line proposal, which the TransLink board had voted down repeatedly. Falcon also dissolved the TransLink board, made up of municipal representatives, and replaced it with a provincially-appointed board with no public accountability. It is not surprising that now that TransLink has built the Canada Line, provincial support has returned to its previous dismal level. And as usual, TransLink takes the blame for funding shortfalls (witness the CBC article entitled “TransLink to yank Evergreen Line funding.”) when the real “bad guy” in this scenario is the lack of any comprehensive federal transportation plan that acknowledges municipalities’ role in public transit provision.

TransLink, the South Coast British Columbia Transportation Authority, is responsible for roads, bridges, public transit, and cycling in the Vancouver region. TransLink’s revenues come from transit fares and advertising, property taxes and fuel taxes. The regional transportation authority regularly consults with the public on transportation planning issues including financing, rapid transit, bus, and cycling options. Their online Transit Advisory Board, launched a few years ago, allows Metro residents to have a say in all sorts of decision making. Their current survey deals with their 10-Year Transportation and Financial Plan, a step towards Transport 2040, their 30-year plan. The survey presents three scenarios: spending $460 million more annually to expand transit, road, and cycling capacity, spending $260 annually to maintain the current situation, or cutting back service drastically.

As they have been in existence for just a decade, TransLink also published a list of accomplishments from 1999-2008. Among these are a 37% increase in transit hours, 38% increase in bus fleet size, 99% increase in annual funding for transit operations, and a whopping 283% increase in capital investments. While those who use TransLink on a daily basis complain about it regularly, and Metro Vancouver doesn’t have nearly the transit service it needs to service almost 2 million people, these are some impressive results over a ten-year period.

TransLink is an excellent example of how complicated it is for municipalities and regions to fund, plan, and provide transit services. Power struggles between all three levels of government are played out every time budgetary consultations are due. While TransLink is unique in providing services and capital improvements for roads, bridges, transit, and cycling, this balanced approach frequently puts the provincially-created body at odds with its creator. The transit strike in 2001, the struggle over funding for the Canada Line, and increased pressure on the UBC line are all potent examples of biting the hand that feeds transit in Metro Vancouver. An effort in 2001 to add a vehicle levy to funding sources was rejected by the Province, which put a stop to service expansion, fuelled service decreases and led to a four-month-long transit strike. One of the other funding challenges is that the income from fuel taxes (about 30% of TransLink’s funding) fluctuates with gas prices.

These struggles occur because often the upper levels of government are at odds with the municipalities; it is one area that the Federation of Canadian Municipalities has fought to reconcile. Municipalities know what works best at the local level: in this case, more funding for public transit, cycling, and walking. Funds can be raised through taxes on less sustainable transportation modes. But the Province of BC has long fought this approach, like other Provincial governments, sticking to the postwar status quo: fund road and highway infrastructure to cut down on traffic and make goods movement easier and cheaper. An excellent example is the Gateway proposal, a $4.5 billion dollar road and highway expansion project bitterly fought by Vancouver and Burnaby councils and decried by environmentalists, will now be funded entirely by the Province. BC Minister of Transportation Kevin Falcon’s spearheading of the Gateway proposal, against the recommendations of cost benefit and environmental analyses, made lifelong enemies of many GVRD transportation advocates. Falcon was replaced as Minister of Transportation by Shirley Bond when Gordon Campbell was recently re-elected as Premier on May 12, 2009. It isn’t known yet how much Bond will support public transit, cycling, and walking in the Province; it may not matter, considering Campbell’s support of the proposal. A glance at the Provincial Ministry of Transportation website indicates its primary interests in goods movement and airport management; public transit is clearly low on its list of priorities. The Province of BC released a Transit Plan in 2008 that contradicts TransLink’s long-term plan. Clearly, these power struggles indicate that transportation, at the level of public transit and commuter services, is an area that should be wholly given over to Canadian municipalities. There is considerable dissention in the ranks, because without funding from the upper levels of government, municipalities would face the same challenges in transportation that they do in housing: responsibilty with out much-needed cash.

But despite these struggles, TransLink has accomplished a lot in a city that is rapidly growing and needs transportation alternatives. As I write this, the new 19-km Canada Line is being tested for its Labour Day opening, a new SeaBus glides across Burrard Inlet, and the 24-km Central Valley Greenway has just opened. These victories, in addition to the gains in capital investment, and sheer numbers of passengers using the system, are worthy of celebration.

The City of Vancouver is one of a growing number of cities concerned about local agriculture and food availability; the City set up a Food Policy Council in 2003. So far, the Council’s interest is confined to homeowners producing their own food (beekeeping and possibly backyard chickens), or producing food for the poor with its Grow-a-Row program. It has not extended its reach to the larger issues: ensuring households have better access to fresh fruits and vegetables (grocery store location) or enabling more local farmers to sell their produce in the city. Another ongoing debate for City of Vancouver planners is whether or not to allow street vendors to operate on busy street corners. While we have the commonplace hotdog/sausage vendors, portable kitchens are not allowed. As Tim Pawsey wrote in the Vancouver Courier, “Zealous health authorities suppress any deviation from predictable food service that might be remotely interesting.”

While Asian cities seem to have the best variety of street food (fresh pakoras in Delhi, sizzling potstickers and skewers of meat in Shanghai), many North American cities offer a variety of quick eats. In New York, there are carts selling pastries, soft pretzels, muffins and bagels; in San Francisco’s Berkeley there’s a giant vending machine with all manner of hot meals available. The City of Richmond is slightly better off than Vancouver, with sizzling meat, Chinese dumpling, and fresh fruit vendors at their weekly Night Market. Hot dog/sausage vendors can always be found at Toronto’s Nathan Phillips Square, but recently Toronto City Hall approved eight new ethnic street food vendors.

Street food has even reached the epitome of high art. The Vitra Design Museum in Basel, fittingly located on Charles-Eames-Strasse and designed by Frank Gehry, is currently hosting a Global Street Food Exhibition featuring all kinds of portable kitchens.

In practice, getting street vendors approved in Canadian cities has proved daunting. Toronto’s process required the vendors to invest $21,000-28,000 for carts and pay an annual location fee of $5,000-15,000. As Vanessa Lu reports in the Toronto Star, a rigorous selection process included scoring for nutrition, food safety, locally produced food, ethnic diversity, taste and an overall business plan. Best of all, the new vendors reflect the city’s diversity: passers-by will be able to choose from Persian, Middle Eastern, Greek, Afghan, Korean, Caribbean, Thai, and Eritrean food at the eight busy downtown locations. This is only a three-year pilot project, but the City of Toronto hints at expanding the program in due time.

While the City of Vancouver still claims health concerns, perhaps Toronto’s pilot project will have some impact on the stodgy minds of the health authorities here.