We must first acknowledge there were many anti-urban outcomes of the pandemic – some temporary, others lasting. These mixed in strange ways with outcomes boosting urban life. Such complex real-world lessons are one silver lining of a massively disruptive natural experiment; they correct flawed assumptions and strengthen understanding of crucial parameters for future decision-making. That makes this moment an especially good time to take stock.
So what happened? Just a few of many varied outcomes: NYC residents temporarily fled that metro – in accordance with pandemic tradition – though the issue here may have been the cost of living during lockdown and not fear of infection. (Mass transit did take a hit, however, as already discussed.) And white-collar employees working from home discovered that ”home” could become untethered from where work is – the only constraint being international travel bans and broadband internet service. Lifestyle factors – at least briefly – ascended over job location as the primary consideration in determining residence for at least a lucky few. For those whose employment was disrupted by pandemic measures, this led to resentment and backlash, the end of which we have not yet seen.
Among those of us who worked from home, what did we find there? Remaining at home 24/7 severely tested many technological substitutes for local community life that Americans devised over 100 years of anti-urban development (think of private autos, telephones, radio, TV, internet, social media, etc…). Starved of the personal connections we’d previously eked from work, activities and errands, many Americans resorted to what they’d been taught for generations to do: binge-watching huge amounts of mass media (much of it disinformation) and getting into fights on grossly-unsatisfactory social media platforms, leading to real-world breakdowns in civil society. This dissatisfaction also created a groundswell for authentic, uplifting connection with others – resulting in rapid social media evolution and widespread adoption of video conferencing, as well as belated investment in outdoor social infrastructure out there in the neglected real world.
Unable to shed our need for embodied experience, we ventured outdoors for respite and connection (which is even now far safer in terms of COVID transmission). Anecdotally: in our neighborhood, we observed a sudden spike in the number of people running, biking or walking their dog on sidewalks and a nearby trail. Children played in front yards, eschewing private backyards. All found themselves suddenly, vulnerably, dependent on their immediate physical neighborhood for spontaneous, authentic social connection. Specific qualities of neighborhood walkability which we could previously afford to ignore became vital for our mental health.
Our own area fared better than most because of its physical structure (dating to pre-Euclid times). Given modern Americans’ unfamiliarity with what permits ”life between buildings,” it may be of benefit to dwell on specifics. Lots there are just 40’ wide, houses (and some apartments) occupying nearly their full width, with vehicle access (and a few ADUs) via alleys in the rear. This affords a continually interesting walk for passers-by. This is unlike the postwar neighborhood a few blocks over, which we avoid due to its dullness. The prewar neighborhood’s cozy configuration results in a higher-than average net density of 8 dwelling units per acre (<5 per acre is more typical), augmented further by human-attracting public amenities: a trail on a former railroad spur and a small park adjoining a neighborhood school (slated to be doubled in size and capacity as part of an ill-considered consolidation plan to bus children everywhere). Streets are narrow and on-street parking is common, requiring drivers to pass slowly. Advantage: pedestrians. The neighborhood is also within easy walking distance of a Catholic church and school, a public middle school and park, two college campuses, an unusual neighborhood-scaled, vestigial industrial area, another elementary school and park, and a vehicle-oriented commercial corridor. These afford a rich mix of uses generating pedestrian activity throughout most of the day and week – a boon during the pandemic lockdown.
Most neighborhoods, having separated uses and spread out single-family lots, were not so fortunate. A walk outdoors in these neighborhoods typically yields few or no human contacts, and items of interest are so sparse as to drive occupants back indoors to their solitary digital diversions. Without destinations elsewhere to drive to, this type of neighborhood – common across America – was revealed to be a social desert.
Close, personal experience with this urgent need for outdoor social life fueled sudden enthusiasm beyond urban planning circles for the ”15- [or 20-] minute city.” Put succinctly, the 15-minute city (#15minutecity) is a neighborhood in which one can walk or bike to all destinations necessary for daily life. This was once the norm before WWII, when citizens of all classes made use of their feet, carriages and streetcars to get around. (The private auto was increasingly a factor, but did not dramatically alter cities’ form until WWII.) For reason of these modes of transit, you still find the vestiges of this densely-knit infrastructure in areas (such as ours) dating to that time, whereas those built later – with larger lots and separated uses – are accessible only by private automobile.
Why can’t we have both spread-out cities and spontaneous social interaction outdoors? People don’t interact (or even shop) as well at high (automotive) speeds as they do at low speeds – and city spaces spread out for high speeds are toxic to the pedestrian experience. Attractions are simply too far apart to be accessible or interesting, and cars above 25 mph are too noisy and dangerous to be pleasant company for those mingling outdoors. Cars and pedestrians can mingle successfully – but only in close, narrow, slow neighborhoods like ours.
The good news is many low-density areas can be gently retrofitted for a better pedestrian experience without dramatically altering neighborhood character (except for the better). Who knows – this may even help heal social divisions exacerbated by the pandemic. But it’s a long-term project and a subject for another blog post!
Wits' End 