Category: Politics and Society
New York Isn’t Special
A week ago, we published a short note on driver-only metro trains, known in New York as one-person train operation or OPTO. New York is nearly unique globally in running metro trains with both a driver and a conductor, and from time to time reformers have suggested switching to OPTO, so far only succeeding in edge cases such as a few short off-peak trains. A bill passed the state legislature banning OPTO nearly unanimously, but the governor has so far neither signed nor vetoed it. The New York Times covered our report rather favorably, and the usual suspects, in this case union leadership, are pissed. Transportation Workers Union head John Samuelsen made the usual argument, but highlighted how special New York is.
“Academics think working people are stupid,” [Samuelsen] said. “They can make data lie for them. They conducted a study of subway systems worldwide. But there’s no subway system in the world like the NYC subway system.”
Our report was short and didn’t go into all the ways New York isn’t special, so let me elaborate here:
- On pre-corona numbers, New York’s urban rail network ranked 12th in the world in ridership, and that’s with a lot of London commuter rail ridership excluded, including which would likely put London ahead and New York 13th.
- New York was among the first cities in the world to open its subway – but London, Budapest, Chicago (dating from the electrification and opening of the Loop in 1897), Boston, Paris, and Berlin all opened earlier.
- New York has some tight curves on its tracks, but the minimum curve radius on Paris Métro Line 1, 40 meters, is comparable to the New York City Subway’s.
- The trains on the New York City Subway are atypically long for a metro system, at 151 meters on most of the A division and 183 on most of the B division, but trains on some metro systems are even longer (Tokyo has some 200 m trains, Shanghai 180 m trains) and so are trains on commuter rail systems like the RER (204 m on the B, 220 m on the A), Munich S-Bahn (201 m), and Elizabeth line (205 m, extendable to 240).
- New York has crowded trains at rush hour, with pre-Second Avenue Subway trains peaking at 4 standees per square meter, but London peaks at 5/m^2 and trains in Tokyo and the bigger Chinese cities at more than that. Overall ridership, irrespective of crowding, peaked around 30,000 passengers per direction per hour on the 4 and 5 trains in New York, compared with 55,000 on the RER A.
New York is not special, not in 2025, when it’s one of many megacities with large subway systems. It’s just solipsistic, run by managers and labor leaders who are used to denigrating cities that are superior to New York in every way they run their metro systems as mere villages unworthy of their attention. Both groups are overpaid: management is hired from pipelines that expect master-of-the-universe pay and think Sweden is a lower-wage society, and labor faces such hurdles with the seniority system that new hires get bad shifts and to get enough workers New York City Transit has had to pay $85,000 at start, compared with, in PPP terms, around $63,000 in Munich after recent negotiations. The incentive in New York should be to automate aggressively, and look for ways to increase worker churn and not to turn people who earn 2050s wages for 1950s productivity be a veto point to anything.
Reasons and Explanations
David Schleicher has a proposal for how Congress can speed up infrastructure construction and reduce costs for megaprojects. Writing about what further research needs to be done, he distinguishes reasons from explanations.
I have argued that many of the stories we tell about infrastructure costs involve explanations but not reasons. There are plenty of explanations for why projects cost so much, from too-deep train stations to out-of-control contractors, but they don’t help us understand why politicians often seem not to care about increasing costs. For that, we need to understand why there is insufficient political pressure to encourage politicians to do better.
I hope in this post to go over this distinction in more detail and suggest reasons. The key here is to look not just at costs per kilometer, but also costs per rider, or benefit-cost ratios in general. The American rail projects that are built tend to have very high benefits, to the point that at normal costs, their benefit-cost ratios would be so high that they’d raise the question of why it didn’t happen generations ago. (If New York’s construction costs had stayed the same as those of London and Paris in the 1930s, then Second Avenue Subway would have opened in the 1950s from Harlem to Lower Manhattan.) The upshot is that such projects have decent benefit-cost ratios even at very high costs, which leads to the opposite political pressure.
Those high benefit-cost ratios can be seen in low costs per rider, despite very high costs per kilometer. Second Avenue Subway Phase 1 cost $6 billion in today’s money and was projected to get 200,000 daily riders, which figure it came close to before the pandemic led to reductions in ridership. $30,000/rider is perfectly affordable in a developed country; Grand Paris Express, in 2024 prices, is estimated to cost 45 billion € and get 2 million daily riders, which at PPP conversion is if anything a little higher than for Second Avenue Subway. And the United States is wealthier than France.
I spoke to Michael Schabas in 2017 or 2018 about the Toronto rail electrification project, asking about its costs. He pointed out to me that when he was involved in the early 2010s studies for it, the costs were only mildly above European norms, but the benefits were so high that the benefit-cost ratio was estimated at 8. Such a project could only exist because Canada is even more of a laggard on passenger rail electrification than the United States – in Australia, Europe, Japan, or Latin America a system like GO Transit would have been electrified generations earlier, when the benefit-cost ratio would have been solid but not 8. The ratio of 8 seemed unbelievable, so Metrolinx included 100% contingency right from the start, and added scope instead of fighting it – the project was going to happen at a ratio of 2 or 8, and the extra costs bringing it down to 2 are someone else’s revenue.
The effect can look, on the surface, as one of inexperience: the US and Canada are inexperienced with projects like passenger rail electrification, and so they screw them up and costs go up, and surely they’ll go down with experience. But that’s not quite what’s happening. Costs are very high even for elements that are within the American (or Canadian) experience, such as subway and light rail lines, often built continuously in Canadian and Western US cities. Rather, what’s going on is that if a feature has been for any reason underrated (in this case, mainline rail electrification, due to technological conservatism), then by the time anyone bothers building it, its benefit-cost ratio at normal costs will be very high, creating pressure to add more costs to mollify interest groups that know they can make demands.
This effect even happens outside the English-speaking world, occasionally. Parisian construction costs for metro and RER tunnels are more or less the world median. Costs for light rail are high by French standards and low by Anglosphere ones. However, wheelchair accessibility is extremely expensive: Valérie Pécresse’s plan to retrofit the entire Métro with elevators, which are currently only installed on Line 14, is said to cost 15 to 20 billion euros. There are 300 stations excluding Line 14, so the cost per station, at 50-67 million € is even higher than in New York. In Madrid, a station is retrofit with four elevators for about 10 million €; in Berlin, they range between 2 and 6 million (with just one to two elevators needed; in Paris, three are needed); in London, a tranche of step-free access upgrades beginning in 2018 cost £200 million for 13 stations. This is not because France is somehow inexperienced in this – such projects happen in secondary cities at far lower costs. Moreover, when France is experimenting with cutting-edge technology, like automation of the Métro starting with Line 1, the costs are not at all high. Rather, what’s going on with accessibility costs is that Paris is so tardy with upgrading its system to be accessible that the benefits are enormous and there’s political pressure to spend a lot of money on it and not try saving much, not when only one line is accessible.
In theory, this reason should mean that once the projects with the highest benefit-cost ratios are built, the rest will have more cost control pressure. However, one shouldn’t be so optimistic. When a country or city starts out building expensive infrastructure, it gets used to building in a certain way, and costs stay high. Taiwanese MRT construction costs began high in the 1990s, and the result since then has not been cost control pressure as more marginal lines are built, but fewer lines built, and rather weak transit systems in the secondary cities.
Major reductions happen only in an environment of extreme political pressure. In Italy, the problem in the 1980s was extensive corruption, which was solved through mani pulite, a process that put half of parliament under indictment and destroyed all extant political parties, and reforms passed in its wake that increased transparency and professionalized project delivery. High costs by themselves do not guarantee such pressure – there is none in Taiwan or the United Kingdom. In the United States there is some pressure, in the sense that the thinktanks are aware of the problem and trying to solve it and there’s a decent degree of consensus across ideologies about how. But I don’t think there’s extreme political pressure – if anything the tendency for local activist groups is to work toward the same failed leadership that kept supervising higher costs, whereas mani pulite was a search-and-destroy operation.
Without such extreme pressure, what happens is that a very strong project like Caltrain or GO Transit electrification, the MBTA Green Line Extension, the Wilshire subway, or Second Avenue Subway is built, and then few to no similar things can be, because people got used to doing things a certain way. The project managers who made all the wrong decisions that let costs explode are hailed as heroes for finally completing the project and surmounting all of its problems, never mind that the problems were caused either by their own incompetence or that of predecessors who weren’t too different from them. The regulations are only tweaked or if anything tightened if a local political power broker feels not listened to. Countries and cities build to a certain benefit-cost ratio frontier, and accept the cost of doing business up to it; the result is just that fewer things are built in high cost per kilometer environments.
Cross-Border Rail and the EU’s Learned Helplessness
I’m sitting on a EuroCity train from Copenhagen back to Germany. It’s timetabled to take 4:45 to do 520 km, an average speed of 110 km/h, and the train departed 25 minutes late because the crew needed to arrive on another train and that train was late. One of the cars on this train is closed due to an air conditioner malfunction; Cid and I rode this same line to Copenhagen two years ago and this also happened in one direction then.
This is a line that touches, at both ends, two of the fastest conventional lines in Europe, Stockholm-Malmö taking 4:30 to do 614 km (136 km/h) and Berlin-Hamburg normally taking 1:45 to do 287 km (164 km/h) when it is on time. This contrast between good lines within European member states, despite real problems with the German and Swedish rail networks, and much worse ones between them, got me thinking about cross-border rail more. Now, this line in particular is getting upgraded – the route is about to be cut off when the Fehmarn Belt Line opens in four years, reducing the trip time to 2:30. But more in general, cross-border and near-border lines that slow down travel that’s otherwise decent on the core within-state city pairs are common, and so far there’s no EU action on this. Instead, EU action on cross-border rail shows learned helplessness of avoiding the only solution for rail construction: top-down state-directed infrastructure building.
The upshot is that there is good cross-border rail advocacy here, most notably by Jon Worth, but because EU integration on this matter is unthinkable, this advocacy is forced to treat the railroads as if they are private oligopolies rather than state-owned public services. Jon successfully pushed for the incoming EU Commission of last year to include passenger rights in its agenda, to deal with friction between different national railroads. The issue is that SNCF and DB have internal ways of handling passenger rights in case of delays, due to domestic pressure on the state not to let the state railroad exploit its users, and they are not compatible across borders: SNCF is on time enough not to strand passengers, DB has enough frequency and extreme late-night timetable padding (my connecting train to Berlin is padded from 1:45 to 2:30, getting me home well past midnight) not to strand passengers; but when passengers cross from Germany to France, these two internal methods both fail.
At no point in this discussion was any top-down EU-level coordination even on the table. The mentality is that construction of new lines doesn’t matter – it’s a megaproject and these only generate headaches and cost overruns, not results, so instead everything boils down to private companies competing on the same lines. That the companies are state-owned is immaterial at the EU level – SNCF has no social mission outside the borders of France and therefore in its international service it usually behaves as a predatory monopoly profiteering off of a deliberately throttled Eurostar/Thalys market.
If there’s no EU state action, then the relationship between the operator, which is not part of the state, and the passenger, is necessarily adversarial. This is where the preference for regulations that assume this relationship must be adversarial and aim to empower the individual consumer comes from. It’s logical, if one assumes that there will never be an EU-wide high-speed intercity rail network, just a bunch of national networks with one-off cross-border megaprojects compromised to the point of not running particularly quickly or frequently.
And that is, frankly, learned helplessness on the part of the EU institutions. They take it for granted that state-led development is impossible at higher level than member states, and try to cope by optimizing for a union of member states whose infrastructure systems don’t quite cohere. Meanwhile, at the other end of the Eurasian continent, a continental-scale state has built a high-speed rail network that at this point has higher ridership per capita than most European states and is not far behind France or Germany, designed around a single state-owned network optimized for very high average speeds.
This occurs at a time when support for the EU is high in the remaining member states. There’s broad understanding that scale is a core benefit of the union, hence the regulatory harmonization ensuring that products can be shipped union-wide without cross-border friction. But for personal travel by train, these principles go away, and friction is assumed to only comprise the least important elements, because the EU institutions have decided that solving the most important ones, that is speed and frequency, is unthinkable.
The Problems of not Killing Penn Expansion and of Tariffs
Penn Station Expansion is a useless project. This is not news; the idea was suspicious from the start, and since then we’ve done layers of simulation, most recently of train-platform-mezzanine passenger flow. However, what is news is that the Trump administration is aiming to take over Penn Reconstruction (a separate, also bad project) from the MTA, in what looks like the usual agency turf battles, except now given a partisan spin. I doubt there’s going to be any money for Reconstruction (budgeted at $7 billion), let alone expansion (budgeted at $17 billion), and overall this looks like the usual promises that nobody intends to act upon. The problem is that this project is still lurking in the background, waiting for someone insane enough to say what not a lot of people think but few are willing to openly disagree with and find some new source of money to redirect there. And oddly, this makes me think of tariffs.
The commonality is that free trade is not just good, but is more or less an unmixed blessing. In public transport rolling stock procurement, the costs of tariffs are so high that a single job created in the 2010s cost $1 million over 4-6 years, paying $20/hour. In infrastructure, in theory most costs are local and so it shouldn’t matter, but in practice some materials need to be imported, and when they run into trade barriers, they mess entire construction schedules. Boston’s ability to upgrade commuter rail stations with high platform was completely lost due to successive tightening of the Buy America waiver process under Trump and then Biden, to the point that even materials that were just not made in America (steel, FRP) could not be imported. The problem is that nobody was willing to say this out loud, and instead politicians chose to interfere with bids to get some photo-ops, getting trains that are overpriced and fail to meet schedule and quality standards.
Thus, the American turn away from free trade, starting with Trump’s 2016 campaign. During the Obama-Trump transition, the FTA stopped processing Buy America waivers, as a kind of preemptive obedience to something that was never written into the law, which includes several grounds for waivers. During the Trump-Biden transition, the standards were tightened, and waivers required the approval of a political office at the White House, which practiced a hostile environment, hence the above example of the MBTA’s platform problems. Now there are general tariffs, at a rate that changes frequently with little justification. The entire saga, especially in the transit industry, is a textbook example not just of comparative advantage, but of the point John Williamson made in the original Washington Consensus that trade barriers were a net negative to the country that imposes them even if there’s no retaliation, purely from the negative effects on transparency and government cleanliness. This occurred even though tariffs were not favored in the political elite of the United States, or even in the general public; but nobody would speak out except special interests and populists who favored trade barriers.
And Penn Expansion looks the same. It’s an Amtrak turf game, which NJ Transit and the MTA are indifferent to. NJ Transit’s investment plan is not bad and focuses on actual track-level improvements on the surface. The MTA has a lot of problems, including the desire for Penn Reconstruction, but Penn Expansion is not among them. The sentiments I’m getting when I talk to people in that milieu is that nobody really thinks it’s going to happen, and as a result most people don’t think it’s important to shoot down what is still a priority for Amtrak managers who don’t know any better.
The problem is that when the explicit argument isn’t made, the political system gets the message that Penn Expansion is not necessarily bad, but now is not the time for it. It will not invest in alternatives. (On tariffs, the alternative is to repeal Buy America.) It will not cancel the ongoing design work, but merely prolong it by demanding more studies, more possibilities for adding new tracks (seven? 12? Any number in between?). It will insist that any bounty of money it gets go toward more incremental work on this project, and not on actually useful alternatives for what to do with $17 billion.
This can go on for a while until some colossally incompetent populist of the type that can get elected mayor or governor in New York, or perhaps president, decides to make it a priority. Then it can happen, and $17 billion plus future escalation would be completely wasted, and further investment in the system would suffer because everyone would plainly see that $17 billion buys next to nothing in New York so what’s the point in spending a mere $300 million here and there on a surface junction? If it were important then Amtrak would have prioritized that, no? Even people who get on some level that the agencies are bad with money will believe them on technical matters like scheduling and cost estimation over outsiders, in the same manner that LIRR riders think the LIRR is incompetent and also has nothing to learn from outsiders.
The way forward is to be more formal about throwing away bad ideas. Does Penn Expansion have any transportation value? No. So cancel it. Drop it from the list of Northeast Corridor projects, cancel all further design work, and spend about 5 orders of magnitude less money on timetabling trains at Penn Station within its existing footprint. Don’t let it lurk in the background until someone stupid enough decides to fund it; New York is rather good lately at finding stupid people and elevating them to positions of power. And learn to make affirmative arguments for this rather than the usual “it will just never happen” handwringing.
New York Mayoral Race Thrown Wide Open as Cuomo is Prosecuted, Adams Removed
The June 24th Democratic primary for mayor of New York City has been thrown wide open as both the incumbent mayor Eric Adams and the frontrunner, former governor Andrew Cuomo, have been dealt serious blows. State prosecutors announced an indictment of Cuomo on multiple charges including sexual assault and corruption stemming from his response to the coronavirus pandemic in 2020. Shortly after the indictments were handed, Governor Kathy Hochul announced that in light of the corruption charges against the mayor, she would exercise her gubernatorial prereogative to suspend him for 30 days, and unless new exculpatory evidence came to light would remove him subsequently. The winner of the June primary, she said, will then be appointed as interim mayor until an election can be held.
The governor’s power to remove local officials, including mayors, has not been used since 1932, when governor and president-elect Franklin D. Roosevelt removed New York City Mayor Jimmy Walker following a corruption trial in which he served as prosecutor, judge, and jury. However, it remains part of the state constitution, and is not limited by the judiciary. Political operatives speculate that Hochul refrained from using this power against Adams partly because it had been so rarely used in the past but also partly to avoid empowering the wrong figures. With the new indictments against the former governor, it is speculated that the removal of Adams is intended to send a message to Cuomo that he’s a target as well should he become mayor.
Political figures in the city who have endorsed Cuomo in the primary express shock. A federally elected Democrat says that with Cuomo gone, there is a real risk of the anti-Israel Zohran Mamdani winning, and moderates and liberals should unite around a pro-Israel candidate, who the source did not yet name. The Brooklyn Democratic Party organization released a statement attacking Hochul for interfering with the election and saying that Cuomo’s handling of the pandemic was exemplary.
The remaining candidates in the primary who have made statements by the time this article has gone to press all reacted positively but reservedly. The two who have been running the deepest in the recent polls are Mamdani and City Comptroller Brad Lander, and who have so far refrained from responding to the shifting situation by attacking each other, both focusing on saying that Cuomo and Adams are not appropriate for leading New York.
Privatization is not an Alternative to the State
There’s a set of norms that are required for successful governance in a developed state: transparency, professional civil service with no political overclass, strong political parties, consensus that the basic functions of the state should exist. The state cannot provide public services like infrastructure, health, education, and security without these. States that lack these try to engage in workarounds, like privatization. In infrastructure, this is where the globalized system comes in: large in-house bureaucracies are dismantled or not built in the first place, and in their stead are multi-billion-dollar contracts to consultants, overseen by political staff. The system of privatization sells itself as an alternative to the state if there’s no consensus, but it isn’t one. The result is high construction costs for infrastructure and such long timelines that it’s impossible to build anything.
As we point out in the Swedish case, the distinction between the traditional and globalized systems of infrastructure project delivery can be roughly summarized as the following:
| Traditional system | Globalized system |
| Design-bid-build (separate contracts for design and construction) | Design-build (one contract for both design and construction) |
| Smaller contracts, typically tens to low hundreds of millions of dollars | Larger contracts, starting in the mid-hundreds of millions of dollars (Sweden) and going up to the billions (New York) |
| Itemized contracts with publicly available prices | Fixed-price/lump-sum contracts |
| Product procurement: the contracts list what there is to be built | Functional procurement: the contracts list what the project is supposed to do, e.g. capacity, leaving the mode underspecified |
| Public-sector risk | Private contractor risk |
This, to be clear, needs to be nuanced. The most important nuance is that despite the name, the traditional system is better viewed as a modern evolution of how contracts done in the first three quarters of the 20th century, with an eye for far better anti-corruption mechanisms. In particular, itemization is a fairly new innovation – in Italy, item-level transparency is a 1990s innovation in the wake of mani pulite.
What’s more, quite a lot of systems are mixed. The Nordic countries have been moving toward the globalized system on the theory that the private sector is more efficient than the public sector, and their construction costs have exploded in tandem. But their moves in this direction remain more halting than those of the United Kingdom or Canada, or as of late the United States; the contract sizing is well below American norms, and, at least in Sweden, Trafikverket makes sure to retain in-house capacity to oversee the contractors and consultants better. In contrast, the United States has a system of consultants supervising other consultants.
And finally, as is usually the case with privatization, the more private contractor-centric globalized system does not mean the state actually retreats from infrastructure. To the contrary, the political elements of the state have greater control. The staff of an elected mayor, governor, or prime minister are more involved in $2 billion contracts than in $50 million ones, and can influence the bidding based on criteria that are never how to do good work (they’re political staff, they don’t know what good infrastructure planning is and don’t respect people who do). This is not privatization in the sense that 19th-century railroad construction in the United Kingdom was financed and designed by entirely private actors, with the public role restricted to parliamentary approval of routes.
It just so happens that none of this works. In Sweden, there’s enough state capacity that people are questioning the globalized system, saying it is designed around the needs of multinationals rather than those of the Swedish public. The long-term attrition under which British and American civil service bureaucracies have atrophied has not happened, so Trafikverket could take a more active role if it wanted. But in Britain and the United States, it is harder, and professional bureaucracies, run by engineers and planners and not by political appointees, need to be built.
If the state can’t build, then it can cut taxes, substituting private consumption for public infrastructure. This is fine; Americans have large cars (often to protect from other large cars) and large houses. But it’s not a substitute for infrastructure and other social goods; it’s a conscious decision to lose years of life expectancy and have a less efficient transport system to avoid building up the state.
Public Transportation and Crime are not About Each Other
Noah Smith is trying to make public transportation and YIMBYism about crime, and I don’t think he succeeds. In short, he says that transit cities and higher housing growth levels would be more publicly acceptable if American central cities were more sensitive to conservative concerns about crime. In effect, he is making public transportation investment not a matter of frequency or network design or reliability or good maintenance or transit priority on streets or low construction costs or any of the other technocratic issues that distinguish the Seouls and Zurichs and Stockholms of the world from the Los Angeleses (which, to give credit, he acknowledges are important), but about crime, conceived as a culture war issue about more police and more police visibility. And in this, he ends up ignoring both the literature on this and what makes good government tick in parts of the developed world that are not the United States.
Now, Noah is a pundit, who’s more pro-transit than the average in his milieu. He’s not the reason American cities are poorly governed or the separate suite of reasons American public transit is so bad and isn’t improving. He writes as a way of trying to engage conservative NIMBYs, I just don’t think he succeeds – and the way he fails is for many of the same reasons American public transit managers fails. Chief of those is American triumphalism, of the kind that will retweet a viral tweet that pretends Europe has no biotech or advanced physics and that uses the expression “europoor” unironically in a flamewar. People who fail to recognize how Europe and East Asia work are not going to be able to learn what works here and how to adapt it; I’m less familiar with Asian discourse, but Noah’s description of Europe is unrecognizable. Even the basic thesis about urbanism and crime isn’t correct in a global perspective. This leads to serious problems in diagnosing how European cities got to have the housing and transportation policies that they do; the solutions are, by the black-and-white polarization of American politics, best thought of as a blue-and-orange spectrum, starting with lack of local empowerment and inattention to neighborhood-scale stereotypes
Cities and crime
The American association between high crime rates and deurbanization is not at all normal. Globally, it’s the exact opposite; Gaviria-Goldwyn-Galarza-Angel find that high risk of violence leads to higher urban density, because of the effect of safety in numbers. Simon Gaviria roots this in the history of his own country, Colombia. In Latin America, crime rates are infamously high. Noah’s post compares the American homicide rate with a selection of European and Asian countries, topping at 6.8/100,000 in Russia (US: 5.8), but in Colombia it is 25.7, and in the 1990s it ranged between 60 and 85. People can’t suburbanize the way they have in the United States, even with a GDP per capita in line with that of midcentury America, because, in a sufficiently high-crime environment, driving to work means taking the risk of being carjacked at an intersection.
Now, public transportation in Latin America is not especially good, not by European or East Asian standards. Most cities haven’t built much recently; Mexico City deserves especial demerits, but Brazil has been flagging as well, and Argentina has no money for anything. Chile and the Dominican Republic are both expanding metros, Santiago doing so rather rapidly, and both have the same order of magnitude of homicide as the US (Chile: 4.5, Dominican Republic: 11.5), rather than that of Colombia or Brazil or Mexico. But this still does not make high crime a relevant factor in deurbanization.
Now, in the history of the United States, people do associate postwar suburbanization with high crime rates. While the crime rate rose rapidly in the 1960s, and remained high until the 1990s, there was little transportation risk. The stereotype of poverty-induced social disorder as seen from a car in an American city, at least in the 1990s and 2000s, was a panhandler coming to the car at a traffic jam with a squeegee, washing it, and expecting payment; jacking was (and still is) more or less unheard of. The stereotype was, safety on the road and in the suburbs, danger in the city. But that is a feature of relatively moderate crime rates. Indeed, the destruction of American public transit in the middle of the 20th century and the suburbanization of the middle class and aspirants both came before the increase in crime rates; two thirds of the fall in New York subway ridership from its twin peaks in 1930 and 1946 to its nadir in 1982 had occurred by 1960, on the eve of the explosion in the city’s homicide rate.
And to be clear, this is a matter of stereotypes, more than reality. New York is one of the safest large cities in the United States (4.7/100,000 in 2023). San Francisco is even safer: in 2024 through December 10th, the pro-rated homicide rate was 4.3. Texan urbanists outside Austin (4.7) have to contend with higher homicide rates: 15.7 in Dallas, 12.8 in Houston, 8.4 in San Antonio, all averaged over the first six months of 2024 and pro-rated. But Dallas and Houston are perceived as far safer than New York. This can’t exactly be racism – these two cities are nearly as black as New York and considerably more Hispanic. But whatever is causing the stereotype needs to be separated from the reality; the Texan rail advocates I talk to on social media don’t treat crime as a major obstacle for finding more money for public transit, and instead cite car culture, low perceived value of rail, and high costs, and if that’s not a problem there, it shouldn’t be in New York or San Francisco.
Stereotypes in Paris
Noah talks about how Europe succeeded in curbing crime rates – and to again give credit, recognizes that New York is safe – and says that this is driving greater acceptance of public transportation and housing growth here.
Except, this isn’t quite right. I don’t have comparable surveys asking people if they find Paris safe, but I do have access to French discourse at hand, and it does not at all say “Paris is safe, people who think crime is a problem there are idiots,” except maybe when an American is in the room and then the point is to pull rank on the American.
In Paris, in French, there are lists of sensitive city quarters, and there are arrondissements that are more fashionable than others. The 18th, 19th, and 20th are usually negatively stereotyped, if less so than the adjacent department, Seine-Saint-Denis, which is extremely negatively stereotyped. The 13th is negatively stereotyped, but this is likely to be missed by Americans – the population there is disproportionately Asian, and negative stereotypes of Asians by white people are worse in France than in the United States. Belleville, straddling the 10th/11th/19th/20th boundary, was listed as a sensitive quarter when I lived just outside its limits and went in frequently to buy tahini – and at the time, I saw either British or American media, I forget which, list these quarters as no-go zones.
Now, these are residential areas. The center of Paris is well to the west of these. But Paris has a low job density gradient within city limits between commercial areas (like the 1st or the 8th) and residential ones, and the Ministry of the Interior, for example, is located in the 20th, close to Nation. People commute to these neighborhoods, usually by the Métro or RER. Nation, at the 11th/12th/20th boundary, is a mixed zone, with features that connote middle-class consumption (like the farmer’s market) and others that connote poverty (like a Resto du Cœur; see citywide map here). The sort of people in France who see a black or Arab person on the street and immediately panic find the area dangerous, including at one point the minister of the interior himself, who professed to being shocked at seeing ethnic food at the supermarket.
And none of this matters to public transportation investment, or to housing. In a country where people treat the entire department of Seine-Saint-Denis as a no-go zone except for football games at the Stade de France, where the RER B has such a negative reputation for passing through this area that two different airport connectors are planned to parallel it, Grand Paris Express is still planned to make stops in Seine-Saint-Denis, and connect it better with the rest of the region, including the wealthy suburbs around La Défense. This was a bipartisan decision – there were differences between the Socialists’ and the Gaullists’ ideas of what exactly to build, but there was core agreement on a circumferential line through the inner suburbs, and it is considered a social policy to connect working-class suburbia with jobs.
Stereotypes and local empowerment
The stereotypes of crime in parts of the Paris region do not affect urban rail investment plans. Where they do matter is at the level that doesn’t matter: the local one. Anne Hidalgo is a committed leftist (and NIMBY), but centrist and center-right politicians in the region have long wanted an urban renewal project around Gare du Nord, which they consider a poor area, not because it’s especially poor, but because it’s where the commuter trains from Seine-Saint-Denis go and thus young black and Arab men congregate there, and the station’s facilities could genuinely use some modernization. Occasionally the negative stereotypes of the station even get to British media. But whether Paris engages in a wholesale renewal project around the station to make it more upscale is not going to matter in the grand scheme of things to either its public transport ridership or its overall level of housing production.
The difference between Paris and New York or San Francisco is not that it has lower crime, although its homicide rate is certainly lower. It’s that it doesn’t derail its social policy discourse by turning technocratic issues into culture wars. Paris has unstaffed sanisettes; in a handful of areas there’s drug use, seen as used syringes. San Francisco, like Paris, has a handful of areas with drugs in its sanisettes, but the moral panic got to the point that the city decided to staff all sanisettes 24/7, with two attendants at night. Paris’s 435 sanisettes cost 11 million € a year to operate, 25,300€ per unit; San Francisco’s annual operating costs are on the order of $1 million per unit because of staffing.
This isn’t because of crime, because San Francisco is not sufficiently more dangerous than Paris to explain this, or even the perceptions thereof. The difference is that European governance is, across the board, better than American governance at disempowering local actors, who are driven by stereotypes. Anne Hidalgo doesn’t want to build housing in significant quantities, but does want to build some public housing in rich neighborhoods to own the libs (French definition of libs), and she’s the mayor and the residents of the 16th are not; Ile-de-France writ large wants to do more transit-oriented development, and so it builds some, even with some local grumbling about how redeveloping a disused factory brings gentrification.
And the way forward is to build institutions that bypass and disempower those local actors. People almost never stay within a neighborhood, but the small minority who do are overly empowered in the system of councilmanic prerogative that governs American cities. This does not involve treating their perception as if it is based in reality; this does involve passing preemption laws at the level where democratic politics is possible, such as the state, and doing much more than the weak bills California allows.
Ideology and reform
I think Noah is uncomfortable with American YIMBY praxis, because the rhetoric in a place like New York or California aims at the median Democrat in the state, to activate liberal political ideology as a substitute for the failures of non-ideological localism. This ideology is not especially radical, but does violate maxims that liberal pundits who specifically pitch to a conservative audience have learned to follow, like the taboo on calling people racist. The mainstream of political YIMBY advocacy has, I think, chosen better, understanding that at the end of the day, an upzoning bill in a safely blue state passes without Republican votes, and cutting deals with state Democratic actors, which can be localist (like exempting certain NIMBY suburbs with low transit-oriented development value) or more left-wing (like bundling with some left-wing elements, like Oregon’s introduction of weak rent controls).
And in a way, this is also how YIMBYism and public transportation investment work here, politically. As of late, social democratic parties have leaned on YIMBYism as a reason for non-pensioners to vote for them, calling for more housing permits; Olaf Scholz even called for redeveloping Tempelhofer Feld. Because it lives within a party, rather than among people who try to acknowledge culture war paranoias, the policy is clear, and sometimes can even be enacted – Germany would have built more housing if interest rates hadn’t simultaneously risen for unrelated reasons (namely, the combination of inflation and the Ukraine war). In France, it was a bipartisan effort in the sense that there wasn’t much daylight between the center-left and the center-right on the need for more housing in Ile-de-France, but the enactment did not involve the sort of horse trading that Noah envisions. This is not too different from infrastructure investments with bipartisan support elsewhere, such as the Madrid Metro, or Crossrail.
I think it’s telling that the greatest successes in the United States have not been in the most liberal places, but in swing states with liberal governance but competitive elections, like Minnesota. The barrier is not that the cities have crime or are negatively stereotyped (suburbanites around Minneapolis have plenty of those against the city), but that safe states have developed such a democratic deficit that they can’t govern. I’m fairly certain Noah is aware of this (Matt Yglesias certainly is). It just implies that this really is about seizing control of state government through ideological persuasion – in other words, reminding the Democrats of safely blue states that they are Democrats – and not about telling people way to the right of the median in these states that they are valid. We don’t do that here and American YIMBYs don’t need to do it on their side of the Pond.
Kathy Hochul Can Only Solve Problems She Created
After the election, with the congestion pricing lawsuit hearings looming, Kathy Hochul announced that she’s going to restore congestion pricing, at the lower rate of $9 per entry, as opposed to the $15 per entry in the original program that she’d unilaterally canceled in June weeks before it was supposed to begin implementation.
The main reaction by transit advocacy groups in the region seems to be “We did it”: the combination of political pressure (reducing the governor’s approval rate), bottom-up pressure like mass phone calls, and lawfare led her to go back and restore 60% of congestion pricing. Perhaps, after the lawsuit is resolved, she will stop violating 40% of the law and go back to following it entirely.
But then there are people who insist that this was some savvy political move to delay congestion pricing until after the election, to save some congressional Democrats. This is stupid. The Democrats did okay in the congressional elections in the region, but their performance in the presidential election, in which Donald Trump tried to make congestion pricing an issue, was beyond awful, with the single largest Republican swing in the country from 2020, followed by adjacent New Jersey and frequent destination for out-migrants Florida. No: people rejected Hochul’s capricious government as much as they could given other partisan and ideological views.
Because what we’re seeing is that Hochul is perfectly capable of solving a problem – well, 60% of a problem – provided she is the sole cause of it. Otherwise, she can’t do anything. The state has a stack of problems, and she and the political appointees, including both her own and those carried over from Cuomo, can’t do anything to solve them, and I don’t even think they have any interest in. They lower people’s expectations so that they can claim credit for meeting 60% of them. No wonder people think so little of New York governance.
TGV Imitators: Learning the Wrong Lessons From the Right Places
I talked last time about how high-speed rail in Texas is stuck in part because of how it learned the wrong lessons from the Shinkansen. That post talks about several different problems briefly, and here I’d like to develop one specific issue I see recur in a bunch of different cases, not all in transportation: learning what managers in a successful case say is how things should run, rather than how the successful case is actually run. In transportation, the most glaring case of learning the wrong lessons is not about the Shinkansen but about the TGV, whose success relies on elements that SNCF management was never comfortable with and that are the exact opposite of what has been exported elsewhere, leading countries that learned too much from France, like Spain, to have inferior outcomes. This also generalizes to other issues, such as economic development, leading to isomorphic mimicry.
The issue is that the TGV is, unambiguously, a success. It has produced a system with high intercity rail ridership; in Europe, only Switzerland has unambiguously more passenger-km/capita (Austria is a near-tie, and the Netherlands doesn’t report this data). It has done so financially sustainably, with low construction costs and, therefore, operating profits capable of paying back construction costs, even though the newer lines have lower rates of return than the original LGV Sud-Est.
This success brought in imitators, comprising mostly countries that looked up to France in the 1990s and 2000s; Germany never built such a system, having always looked down on it. In the 2010s and 20s, the imitation ceased, partly due to saturation (Spain, Italy, and Belgium already had their own systems), partly because the mediocre economic growth of France reduced its soft power, and partly because the political mood in Europe shifted from state-built infrastructure projects to on-rail private competition. I wrote three years ago about the different national traditions of building high-speed rail, but here it’s best to look not at the features of the TGV today but at those of 15 years ago:
- High average speed, averaging around 230 km/h between Paris and Marseille; this was the highest in the world until China built out its own system, slightly faster than the Shinkansen and much faster than the German, Korean, and Taiwanese systems. Under-construction lines that have opened since have been even faster, reaching 260 km/h between Paris and Bordeaux.
- Construction on cut-and-fill, with passenger-only lines with steep grades (a 300 km/h train can climb 3.5% grades just fine), limited use of viaducts and tunnels, and extensive public outreach including land swap deals with farmers and overcompensation of landowners in order to reduce NIMBY animosity.
- Direct service to the centers of major cities, using classical lines for the last few kilometers into Paris and most other major cities; cities far away from the network, such as Toulouse and Nice, are served as well, on classical lines with the trains often spending hours at low speed in addition to their high-speed sections.
- Extensive branching: every city of note has its own trains to Paris.
- Little seat turnover: trains from Paris to Lyon do not continue to Marseille and trains from Paris to Marseille do not stop at Lyon, in contrast with the Shinkansen or ICE, which rely on seat turnover and multiple major-city stops on the same train.
- Open platforms: passengers can get on the platform with no security theater or ticket gates, and only have to show their ticket on the train to a conductor. This has changed since, and now the platforms are increasingly gated, though there is still no security theater.
- No fare differentiation: all trains have the same TGV brand, and charge similar fares as the few remaining slow intercity trains, on average much lower than on the Shinkansen. Fares do depend on airline-style buckets including when and how one books a train, and on service class, but there is no premium for speed or separation into high- and low-fare trains. This has also changed since, as SNCF has sought to imitate low-cost airlines and split the trains into the high-fare InOui brand and low-fare OuiGo brand, differentiated in that OuiGo sometimes doesn’t go into traditional city stations but only into suburban ones like Marne-la-Vallée, 25 minutes from Paris by RER. However, InOui and OuiGo are still not differentiated by speed.
SNCF management’s own beliefs on how trains should operate clearly differ from how TGVs actually did operate in the 1990s and 2000s, when the system was the pride of Europe. Evidently, they have introduced fare differentiation in the form of the InOui-OuiGo distinction, and ticket-gated the platforms. The aim of OuiGo was to imitate low-cost airlines, one of whose features is service at peripheral airports like Beauvais or Stansted, hence the use of peripheral train stations. However, even then, SNCF has shown some flexibility: it is inconvenient when a train unloads 1,000 passengers at an RER station, most of whom are visitors to the region and do not have a Navigo card and therefore must queue at ticket vending machines just to connect; therefore, OuiGo has been shifting to the traditional Parisian terminals.
However, the imitators have never gotten the full package outlined above. They’ve made some changes, generally in the direction of how SNCF management and the consultants who come from that milieu think trains ought to run, which is more like an airline. The preference for direct trains and no seat turnover has been adopted into Spain and Italy, and the use of classical lines to go off-corridor has been adopted as well, not just into standard-gauge imitators but also into broad-gauge Spain, using some variable-gauge trains. In contrast, the lack of fare differentiation by speed did not make it to Spain. Fast trains charge higher fares than slow trains, and before the opening of the market to private competition, RENFE ran seven different fare/speed classes on the Madrid-Barcelona lines, with separate tickets.
Ridership, as a result, was disappointing in Spain and Italy. The TGV had around 100 million annual passengers before the Great Recession, and is somewhat above that level today, thanks to the opening of additional lines. The AVE system has never been close to that. The high-speed trains in Italy, a country with about the same population as France, have been well short of the TGV’s ridership as well. Relative to metro area size, ridership in both countries on the city pairs for which I can find data was around half as high as on the TGV. Private competition has partly fixed the problem on the strongest corridors, but nationwide ridership in Spain and Italy remains deficient.
The issue in Spain in particular is that while the construction efficiency is even better than in France, management bought what France said trains should be like and not what French trains actually are. The French rail network is not the dictatorship of SNCF management. Management has to jostle with other interest groups, such as labor, NIMBY landowners, socialist politicians, (right-)liberal politicians, and EU regulators. It hates all of those groups for different reasons and can find legitimate reasons why each of those groups is obstructionist, and yet at least some of those groups are evidently keeping it honest with its affordable fares and limited market segmentation (and never by speed).
More generally, when learning from other places, it’s crucial not just to invite a few of their managers to your country to act as consultants. As familiar as they are with their own success, they still have their prejudices of how things ought to work, which are often not how they actually do work. Experience in the country in question is crucial; if you represent a peripheral country, you need to not just rely on consultants from a success case but also send your own people there to live as locals and get local impressions of how things work (or don’t), so that you can get what the success case actually is.
Why Texas High-Speed Rail is Stuck
I’ve been asked on social media why the US can’t build a Shinkansen-style network, with a specific emphasis on Texas. There is an ongoing project, called Texas Central, connecting Dallas with Houston, using Shinkansen technology; the planning is fairly advanced but the project is unfunded and predicted to cost $33.6 billion for a little less than 400 km of route in easy terrain. Amtrak is interested, but it doesn’t seem to be a top priority for it. I gave the skeet-length answer centering costs, blaming, “Farm politics, prior commitments, right-wing populism, and Japanese history.” These all help explain why the project is stuck, despite using technology that in its home country was a success.
How Texas Central is to be constructed
The line is planned to run between Dallas and Houston, but the Houston station is not in Downtown Houston, in order to avoid construction in the built-up area. There are rail corridors into city center, but Texas Central does not want to use them; the concept, based on the Shinkansen, does not permit sharing tracks with legacy railways, and as it developed in the 2010s, it did not want to modify the system for that. Sharing the right-of-way without sharing tracks is possible, but requires new construction within the built-up area. To avoid spending this money, the Texas Central plan is for the Houston station to be built at the intersection of I-610 and US 290, 9 km from city center. Between the cities, the line is not going into intermediate urban areas; a Brazos Valley stop is planned as a beet field station 40 km east of College Station.
Despite all this cost cutting, the line is also planned to run on viaducts. This is in line with construction norms on the newer Shinkansen lines as well as in the rest of Asia; in Europe, high-speed rail outside tunnels runs at-grade or on earthworks, and viaducts are only used for river crossings. As a result, on lines with few tunnels, construction is usually more expensive in Asia than in Europe, with some notable exceptions like High Speed 2 or HSL Zuid. Heavily-tunneled lines sometimes exhibit the opposite, since Japanese standards permit narrower tunnels (more precisely, a slightly wider tunnel accommodates two tracks whereas elsewhere the norm is that each track goes in a separate bore); this works because the Shinkansen trainsets are more strongly pressurized than TGVs or ICEs and also have specially designed noses to reduce tunnel boom.
But in an environment like Texas’s, the recent norm of all-elevated construction drives up costs. This is how, in an easy construction environment, costs have blown to around $87 million/km. For one, recently-opened Shinkansen extensions have cost less than this even while being maybe half or even more in tunnel (that said, the Tsuruga extension that opened earlier this year cost much more). But it’s not the only reason; the construction method interacts poorly with the state’s politics and with implicit and explicit promises made too early.
Japanese history and turnkey projects
The Shinkansen is successful within Japan, and has spawned imitators and attempts at importing the technology wholesale. The imitators have often succeeded on their own terms, like the TGV and the KTX. The attempts at importing the technology wholesale, less so.
The issue here is twofold. First, state railways that behave responsibly at home can be unreasonable abroad. SNCF is a great example, running the TGV at a consistent but low profit to keep ticket fares affordable domestically but then extracting maximum surplus as a monopolist charging premium fares on Eurostar and Thalys. Japan National Railways, now the JR group, is much the same. Domestically, it is constrained by not just implicit expectations of providing a social service (albeit profitably) but also local institutions that push back against some of management’s thinking about how things ought to be. With SNCF, it’s most visible in how management wants to run the railway like an airline, but is circumscribed by expectations such as open platforms, whereas on Eurostar it is freer to force passengers to wait until the equivalent of an airline gate opens. With JR, it’s a matter of rigidity: the Shinkansen does run through to classical lines on the Mini-Shinkansen, but it’s considered a compromise, which is not to be tolerated in the idealized export product.
And second, the history of Taiwan High-Speed Rail left everyone feeling a little dirty, and led Japan to react by insisting on total turnkey products. THSR, unlike the contemporary KTX or the later CRH network, was not run on the basis of dirigistic tech transfers but on that of buying imported products. To ensure competition, Taiwan insisted on designing the infrastructure to accommodate both Japanese and European trains; for example, the tunnels were built to the larger European standard. There were two bidders, the Japanese one (JRs do not compete with one another for export orders) and a Franco-German one called the Eurotrain, coupling lighter TGV coaches to the stronger motor of the ICE 2.
The choice between the two bids was mired in the corruption typical of 1990s Taiwan. The Taiwanese government relied on external financing, and Japan offered financing just to get the built-operate-transfer consortium allied with the Eurotrain to switch to the Shinkansen. Meetings with European and Japanese politicians hinged on other scandals, such as the one for the frigate purchase. Taiwan eventually chose the Shinkansen, using a variant of the 700 Series called the 700T, but the Eurotrain consortium sued alleging the choice was improperly made, and was awarded a small amount of damages including covering the development cost of the train.
The upshot is that in the last 20 years, a foreign country buying Shinkansen tech has had to buy the entire package. This includes not just the trainsets, which are genuinely better than their European and Chinese counterparts, but also construction standards (at this point all-elevated) and signaling (DS-ATC rather than the more standard ETCS or its Chinese derivative CTCS). It includes the exact specifications of the train, unmodified for the local loading gauge; in India, this means that the turnkey Shinkansen used on the Mumbai-Ahmedabad line is not only on standard gauge rather than broad gauge, but also uses the dimensions of the Shinkansen, 3.36 m wide trains with five-abreast seating, rather than those of Indian commuter lines, 3.66 m with six-abreast seating. It’s unreasonably rigid and yet Japan finds buyers who think that this lets them have a system as successful as the Shinkansen, rather than one component of it, not making the adjustments for local needs that Japan itself made from French and German technology in the 1950s and 60s when it developed the Shinkansen in the first place.
Prior commitments
Texas Central began as a private consortium; JR Central saw it as a way of selling an internationalized eight-car version of the N700 Series, called the N700-I. It developed over the 2010s, as Republican governors were canceling intercity rail projects that they associated with the Obama administration, including one high-speed one (Florida) and two low-speed ones (Ohio, Wisconsin). As a result, it made commitments to remain a private-sector firm, to entice conservative politicians in Texas.
One of the commitments was to minimize farmland takings. This was never a formal commitment, but one of the selling points of the all-elevated setup is that farmers can drive tractors underneath the viaducts, and only the land directly beneath the structures needs to be purchased. At-grade construction splits plots; in France, this is resolved through land swap agreements and overcompensation of farmers by 30%, but this has not yet been done in the United States or in Japan.
Regular readers of this blog, as well as people familiar with the literature on cost overruns, will recognize the problem as one of early commitment and lock-in. The system was defined early as one with features including very limited land takings and no need for land swaps, no interface with existing railroads to the point that the Houston terminal is not central, and promises of external funding and guidance by JR Central. This circumscribed the project and made it difficult to switch gears as the funding situation changed and Amtrak got more interested, for one.
Farm politics and right-wing populism
Despite the promises of private-sector action and limited takings, not everyone was happy. Texas Central is still a train; in a state with the politics of Texas, enough people are against that on principle. The issue of takings looms large, and features heavily in the communications of Texans Against High-Speed Rail.
The combination of this politics and prior commitments made by Texas Central has been especially toxic to the project. Under American law, private railroads are allowed to expropriate land for construction, and only the federal government, not the states, is allowed to expropriate railroads. Texas Central intended to use this provision to assemble land for its right-of-way, leading to lawsuits about whether it can legally be defined as a railroad, since it doesn’t yet operate as one.
Throughout the 2010s, Governor Greg Abbott supported the project, on the grounds that he’s in favor of private-sector involvement in infrastructure and Texas Central is private-sector. But his ability to support it has always been circumscribed by this political opposition from the right. The judicial system ruled in favor of Texas Central, but state legislative sessions trying to pass laws in support of the project were delayed, and relying on Abbott meant not seeking federal funds.
This also means that there is no chance of redesigning the project to reduce its cost by running at-grade. There is too little political capital to do so, due to the premature commitments made nearly 15 years ago. California has been able to resile from its initial promises to Central Valley farmers to use legacy rail corridors rather than carve a new right-of-way, but even then the last-minute route redesign toward the latter, in order to avoid running at 350 km/h on viaducts through unserved towns, are route compromises. But California has only been able to do so because it’s a one-party state and the Central Valley farmers are Republicans; it has not been able to modify early commitments in case of conflict with Democrats or nonpartisan interest groups. In Texas, the state is likewise run by a single party, but the farmers and the opponents in general are members of the party. Thus, right-wing populism and farmer politics, while claiming opposition to government waste, are forcing the project to be more wasteful with money, in order to marginally reduce the obtrusiveness of the state in managing eminent domain; they would not accept land swaps except in a situation of extreme political weakness.
Abbott is not a popularist (in the sense of European Christian democracy, not the unrelated American term). Popularist leaders like the string of corrupt Democrazia Cristiana leaders of the First Italian Republic, or the more moderate CDU leaders here including Angela Merkel, have sometimes enacted policy that had more support on the center-left than on the right, if they thought it was necessary to maintain their own power and enact the popular will. This way, Angela Merkel, personally opposed to gay marriage, finally permitted a vote on it in 2017, knowing it would pass, because if she didn’t, then SPD would use it in the election campaign and could win on it. Republican governors in the United States do not do that, except in very blue states, like Maryland or Massachusetts. If they moderate too much, they face a risk of losing primary elections, and this is even truer of state legislators; moderation is still not going to get them Democratic support for anything. The result is what’s called majority-of-the-majority: in practice, a majority party will not take action unless it has the support of a majority of the caucus, rather than just a handful of moderate members allying with the other party. This is not the milieu for experimenting with land swaps, which are a far more visible instantiation of state power than populist farmers are ever comfortable with.
Is Texas High-Speed Rail doomed?
I don’t know. I think it’s notable that the funding the project is receiving this year is perfunctory, for planning but not construction. The promised private funding seems dead, and Pete Buttigieg’s promise of funding one project to showcase that there can be high-speed rail in the United States seems focused on funding 25% of Brightline West (which needs 50%), connecting Las Vegas with Rancho Cucamonga, 60 km east of Downtown Los Angeles.
That said, planning is still continuing, as if to keep this project fresh for when more funding materializes. This is not the era of perfunctory $8 billion bills like that of the Obama stimulus; Seth Moulton is proposing $205 billion, and presumably this would include Texas Central, depending on the political environment of 2025 and the spending priorities then.
But I’m still pessimistic. High-speed rail could work between Dallas and Houston. It’s a reasonably strong corridor, and is growing over time, even if it is not as superlative as Tokyo-Osaka or Boston-New York-Washington. But I’m not sure it’s worth it at $33.6 billion, and I don’t think anyone with the power to fund it thinks it is either. Those costs are not just what high-speed rail is supposed to cost; this is a premium of a factor of at least 2, and likely 3, over what can be done with efficient at-grade construction, of the kind that the project unfortunately ruled out over the 2010s.
Pedestrian Observations 