Category: Transportation
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.
Transit Advocacy and (Lack of) Ideology in New York
I wrote recently about ideology in transit advocacy and in advocacy in general. The gist is that New York lacks any ideological politics, and as a result, transit advocacy either is genuinely non-ideological, or sweeps ideology under the rug; dedicated ideological advocates tend to either be subsumed in this sphere or go to places that don’t really connect with transit as it is and propose increasingly unhinged ideas. The ideological mainstream in the city is not bad, but the lack of choice makes it incapable of delivering results, and the governments at both the city and state levels are exceptionally clientelist, due to the lack of political competition. I’m not optimistic about political competition at the level of advocacy, but it would be useful to try introducing some in order to create more surface area for solutions to come through, and to make it harder for lobbyists to buy interest groups.
Political divides in New York
The political mainstream in New York is broadly left-liberal. New York voters consistently vote for federal politicians who promise to avoid tax cuts on high-income earners and corporations and even increase taxes on this group, and in exchange increase spending on health care, with some high-profile area politicians pushing for nationwide universal health care. They vote for more stringent regulations on businesses, for labor-friendlier administrative actions during major strikes, and for more hawkish solutions to climate change.
And none of that is really visible in state or city politics. Moreover, there isn’t really any political faction that voters can pick to support any of these positions, or to oppose them (except the Republicans, who are well to the right of the median state voter). The Working Families Party exists to cross-endorse Democrats via a different line; there is no fear by a Democrat that if they are too centrist for the district voters will replace them with a WFP representative, or that if they are too left-wing they will replace them with a non-WFP representative. There was a primary bloodbath in 2018, but it came from people running for the State Senate as party Democrats opposed to the Cuomo-endorsed Independent Democratic Conference, which broke from the party to caucus with Republicans.
The political divides that do exist, especially at the city level, break down as machine vs. reform candidates. But even that is not always clear, even as Eric Adams is unambiguously machine. The 2013 Democratic mayoral primary did not feature a clear machine candidate facing a clear reform candidate: Bill de Blasio ran on an ideologically progressive agenda, and implemented one small element of it in universal half-day pre-kindergarten for 3- and 4-year-olds, but he ingratiated himself with the Brooklyn machine, to the point of steering endorsements in the 2021 primary toward Adams, and against the reform candidate, his own appointee Kathryn Garcia.
Political divides and advocacy
The mainstream of political opinion in New York ranges from center to mainline-left. But within that mainstream, there is no ideological competition, not just in politics, but also in advocacy. Transit advocacy, in particular, is not divided into more centrist and more left-wing groups.
The main transit advocacy groups in New York are instead distinguished by focus and praxis, roughly in the following way:
- The Permanent Citizens Advisory Committee to the MTA (PCAC) is on the inside track of advocacy, proposing small changes within the range of opinions on the MTA board.
- Riders Alliance (RA) is on the outside track, focusing on public transit, with praxis that includes rallies, joint proposals with large numbers of general or neighborhood-scale advocacy groups, and some support for lawfare (they are part of the lawsuit against Kathy Hochul’s cancellation of congestion pricing).
- Transportation Alternatives (TransAlt) focuses on street-level changes including pedestrian and bike advocacy, using the same tools of praxis as RA.
- Streetsblog is advocacy-oriented media.
- Straphangers Campaign is subway-focused, and uses reports and media outreach as its praxis, like the Pokey Awards for the slowest bus routes.
- Charlie Komanoff (of the Carbon Tax Center) focuses on producing research that other advocacy groups can use, for example about the benefits of congestion pricing.
The group I’m involved in, the Effective Transit Alliance, is distinguished by doing technical analysis that other groups can use, for example on RA’s Six-Minute Service campaign (statement 1, statement 2), or other-city groups pushing rail electrification; it is in the middle between outside and inside strategies.
Of note, none of these is distinguished by ideology. There is no specifically left-wing transit advocacy group, focusing on issues like supporting the TWU and ATU in disputes with management, getting cops off the subway, and investing in environmental justice initiatives like bus depot electrification to reduce local diesel pollution.
Neither is there a specifically neoliberal transit advocacy group. There are plenty of general advocacy groups with that background, like Abundance New York, but they’re never specific to transit, and much of their agenda, like expansion of renewable power, would not offend ideological socialists. YIMBY as a movement has neoliberal roots, going back to the original New York YIMBY publication, but these days is better viewed as a reform movement fighting the reformers of the last quarter of the 20th century, with the machine adjudicating between the two sides (City of Yes is an Adams proposal; the machine was historically pro-developer).
Instead, all advocacy groups end up arguing using a combination of median-New Yorker ideological language and technocratic proposals (again, Six-Minute Service). Taking sides in labor versus management disputes is viewed as the domain of the unions and managers, not outside groups. RA’s statement on cops on the subway is telling: it uses left-wing NGO language like “people experiencing homelessness,” but of its four policy proposals, only the last, investing in supportive housing for the homeless, is ideologically left-wing, and the first and third, respectively six-minute service and means-tested fare reductions for the poor, would find considerable support in the growing neoliberal community.
The consequences to the extremes
If the mainstream in New York ranges from dead center to center-left, both the general right and the radical left end up on the extremes. These have their own general advocacy groups: the Manhattan Institute (MI) on the right, and the Democratic Socialists of America (DSA) and its allies on the radical left. MI has recently moved to the right on national culture war issues, especially under Reihan Salam as he hired Christopher Rufo, but on local governance issues it’s not at all radical, and highlights center-right concerns with crime and with waste, fraud, and abuse in the public sector. DSA intends to take the most radical left position on issues that is available within the United States.
And both, as organizations, are pretty bad on this issue. MI, in particular, uses SeeThroughNY, the applet for public-sector worker salaries, not for analysis, but for shaming. I’ve had to complain to MI members on Twitter just to get the search function on job titles to work better, and even after they did some UI improvements, it’s harder to find the average salaries and headcounts by position to figure out things like maintenance worker productivity or white-collar overhead rates, than to find the highest-paid workers in a given year and write articles in the New York Post to shame them for racking so much overtime.
Then there is the proposal, I think by Nicole Gelinas, to stop paying subway crew for their commutes. This is not possible under current crew scheduling: train operators and conductors pick their shifts in seniority order, and low-seniority workers have no control over which of the railyards located at the fringes of the city they will have to report to. A business can reasonably expect a worker to relocate if the place the worker reports to will stay the same for the next few years; but if the schedules change every six months and even within this period they send workers to inconsistent railyards, it is not reasonable and the employer must pay for the commute, which in this circumstance is within private-sector norms.
DSA, to the extent it has a dedicated platform on public transit, is for free transit, and failing that, for effectively decriminalizing fare beating. More informed transit advocates, even very left-wing ones, persistently beg DSA to understand that for any given subsidy level, it’s better to increase service than to reduce fares, with exceptions only for places with extremely low ridership, low average rider incomes, and near-zero farebox recovery ratios. In Boston, Michelle Wu was even elected mayor on this agenda; her agenda otherwise is good, but MBTA farebox recovery ratios are sufficient that the revenue loss would bite, and as a result, all the city has been able to fund is some pilot projects on a few bus routes, breaking fare integration in the process since there is no way the subway is going fare-free.
In both cases, what is happening is that the ideological advocacy groups are distinct from the transit advocacy groups, and people are rarely well-respected in both – at most, they can be on the edge in both (like Gelinas). The result is that DSA will come up with ideas that are untethered from the reality of transit, and that every left-wing idea that could work would rapidly be taken up by groups that are not ideologically close to DSA, giving it a neoliberal reputation; symmetrically, this is true of the entire right, including MI.
The limits of the lack of ideology
The lack of ideology is not a good thing. With no ideological competition, voters have no clear way of picking politicians, which results in dynasties and handpicked successors. Lobbyists know who they need to curry favor with, making it cheaper to buy the government than to improve productivity; once it’s cheap to buy the government, the tax system ends up falling on whoever has been worst at buying influence, leading to high levels of distortion even with tax rates that, by Western European standards, are not high.
The quality of government in this situation is not good; corruption parties are not good when they govern entire countries, like the LDP in Japan or Democrazia Cristiana in Cold War Italy, and they’re definitely not good at the subnational level, where there is less media oversight. On education, for example, New York City pays starting teachers with a master’s degree $72,832/year in 2024, which compares with a German range for A13 starting teachers (in most states covering all teachers, in some only academic secondary teachers) of 50,668€/year in Rhineland-Pfalz to 57,288€/year in Bavaria; the PPP rate these days is 1€ = $1.45, so German teachers earn 1-14% more than their New York counterparts, while the average income from work ranges from 5% higher in New York than in Bavaria to 68% higher than Saxony-Anhalt. This stinginess with teacher salaries does not go to a higher teacher-to-student ratios, both New York and Germany averaging about 1:13, or to savings on the education budget, New York spending around twice as much as Germany. The waste is not talked about in the open, and even the concept that teachers deserve a raise, independently of budgetary efficiency, does not exist in city politics; it’s viewed as the sole domain of the unions to demand salary increases, and the idea that people can elect more pro-labor politicians who run on explicit platforms of salary increases is unthinkable.
In transit, I don’t have a good comparison of New York. But I do suspect that the single-party rule of CSU in Bavaria is responsible for the evident corruption levels in the party and the high costs of the urban rail projects that CSU cares about, namely the Munich S-Bahn second trunk line, which is setting Continental European records for its high costs. Likewise, in Italy, the era of DC domination was also called the Tangentopoli, and bribes for contracts were common, raising costs; the destruction of that party system under mani pulite and its replacement with alternation of power between left and right coalitions since has coincided with strong anti-corruption laws and real reductions in costs from the levels of the 1980s.
We haven’t found corruption in New York when researching the Second Avenue Subway case. But we have found extreme levels of intellectual laziness at the top, by political appointees who are under pressure not to innovate rather than to showcase success.
And likewise, at ETA, I’m seeing an advocacy sphere that is constrained by court politics. It’s considered uncouth to say that the governor is a total failure and so are all of her and her predecessor’s political appointees until proven otherwise. There’s no party or faction system that has incentives to find and publicize their failures; as it is, the people trying to replace Adams as mayor are barely even factional, and name recognition is so important that Andrew Cuomo is thinking of making a comeback, perhaps to kill another few tens of thousands of city residents that he missed in 2020. Any advocacy subject to these constraints will fail to break the hierarchy that resists change, and reduce itself to flattering failed leaders in vain hopes that they might one day implement one good idea, take credit for it, and use the credit to legitimize their other failures.
Is there a way out?
I’m pessimistic; there’s a reason I chose not to live in New York despite, effectively, working there. Alternation of parties at the state or even city level is not useful. The Republicans are a permanent minority party in New York, at least in federal votes, and so a Republican who wants to win needs to not just moderate ideologically, which is not enough by itself, but also buy off non-ideological actors, leading to comparable levels of clientelism to those of the Democratic machine.
For example, Mike Bloomberg ran on his own technocratic competence, but lacking a party to work with in City Council, he failed on issues that today are considered core neoliberal priorities, namely housing. Housing permitting in 2002-13, when the city was economically booming, averaged 20,276/year, or around 2.5/1,000 people, rising slightly to 25,222/year, or around 3/1,000, during Bill de Blasio’s eight years; every European country builds more except economic basket cases, and the major cities and metro areas typically build more than the national average. The system of councilmanic privilege, in which City Council defers to the opinions of the member representing the district each proposed development, is a natural outgrowth of the lack of ideological competition, and blocks housing production; the technocrat Bloomberg was less capable of striking deals to build housing than the political hack de Blasio. And Bloomberg is a best-case scenario; George Pataki as governor was not at all a reformer, he just had somewhat different (mostly Long Island) clientelist interests.
David Schleicher proposes state parties as a solution to the system of single-party domination and councilmanic privilege. But in practice, there’s little reason for such parties to thrive. If two New York parties aim for the median state voter, then one will comprise Republicans and the rightmost 20% of Democrats and the other will comprise the remaining Democrats, and Democrats from the former party will be required to defend so many Republican policies for coalitional reasons. There’s no neat separation of state and federal priorities that would permit such Democrats to compartmentalize, and not enough specifically in-state media that would cover them in such a way rather than based on national labels; in practice, then, any such Democrat will be unable to win federal office as a Democrat, and as ambitious Democrats stick with the all-Democratic party, the 62-38 pattern of today will reassert itself.
In the city, two Democratic factions are in theory possible, a centrist one and a leftist one. A left-wing solution is in theory favored by most of the city, which is happy to vote for federal politicians who promise universal health care, free university tuition, universal daycare, or more support for teachers, which more or less exist in Germany with a much less left-wing electorate. In practice, none of these is even semi-seriously attempted city- or statewide, and the machine views its role as, partly, gatekeeping left-wing organizations, which in turn have little competence to implement these, and often get sidetracked with other priorities (like teacher union opposition to phonics, or extracting more money from developers for neighborhood priorities).
Public transit is, in effect, caught in a crossfire of political incompetence. I think advocacy would be better if there were a persistently left-wing advocacy org and a persistently neoliberal one, but in practice, machine domination is such that the socialists and neoliberals often agree on a lot of reforms (for example, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez has become fairly YIMBY).
But even then, advocacy organizations should be using their outside voice more and avoiding flattering people who don’t deserve it. People in New York know that they are governed by failures. The lack of ideology means that the Republican nearly 40% of the state thinks they are governed by left-wing failures while the Democratic base thinks they are governed by centrist and Republicratic failures, but there’s widespread understanding that the government is inefficient. Advocates do not need to debase themselves in front of people who cost the region millions of dollars every day that they get up in the morning, go to work, and make bad decisions on transit investment and operations. There’s a long line of people who do flattery better than any advocate and will get listened to first by the hierarchy; the advocates’ advantage is not in flattery but in knowing the system better than the political appointees to the point of being able to make good proposals that the hierarchy is too incompetent to come up with or implement on its own.
Amtrak Doubles Down on False Claims About Regional Rail History to Attack Through-Running
Amtrak just released its report a week and a half ago, saying that Penn Expansion, the project to condemn the Manhattan block south of Penn Station to add new tracks, is necessary for new capacity. I criticized the Regional Plan Association presentation made in August in advance of the report for its wanton ignorance of best practices, covering both the history of commuter rail through-running in Europe and the issue of dwell times at Penn Station. The report surprised me by making even more elementary mistakes on the reality of how through-running works here than the ones made in the RPA presentation. The question of dwell times is even more important, but the Effective Transit Alliance is about to release a report addressing it, with simulations made by other members; this post, in contrast, goes over what I saw in the report myself, which is large enough errors about how through-running works that of course the report sandbags that alternative, less out of malice and more out of not knowing how it works.
Note on Penn Expansion and through-running
In the regional discourse on Penn Station, it is usually held that the existing station definitely does not have the capacity to add 24 peak trains per hour from New Jersey once the Gateway tunnel opens, unless there is through-running; thus, at least one of through-running and Penn Expansion is required. This common belief is incorrect, and we will get into some dwell time simulations at ETA.
That said, the two options can still be held as alternatives to each other, even as what I think is likeliest given agency turf battles and the extreme cost of Penn Expansion (currently $16 billion) is that neither will happen. This is for the following reasons:
- Through-running is good in and of itself, and any positive proposal for commuter rail improvements in the region should incorporate it where possible, even if no dedicated capital investment such as a Penn Station-Grand Central connection occurs. This includes the Northeast Corridor high-speed rail project, which aims to optimize everything to speed up intercity and commuter trains at minimal capital cost.
- The institutional obstacles to through-running are mainly extreme incuriosity about rest-of-world practices, which are generations ahead of American ones in mainline rail; the same extreme incuriosity also leads to the belief that Penn Expansion is necessary.
- While it is possible to turn 48 New Jersey Transit trains per hour within the current footprint of Penn Station with no loss of LIRR capacity, there are real constraints on turnaround times, and it is easier to institute through-running.
The errors in the history
The errors in the history are not new to me. My August post criticizing the RPA still stands. I was hoping that Amtrak and the consultants that prepared the report (WSP, FX) would not stick to the false claim that it took 46 years to build the Munich S-Bahn rather than seven, but they did. The purpose of this falsehood in the report is to make through-running look like a multigenerational effort, compared with the supposedly easier effort of digging up an entire Manhattan block for a project that can’t be completed until the mid-2030s at the earliest.
In truth, as the August post explains, the real difficulties with through-running in the comparison cases offered in the report, Paris and Munich, were with digging the tunnels. This was done fairly quickly, taking seven years in Munich and 16 in Paris; in Paris, the alignment, comprising 17 km of tunnel for the RER A and 2 for the initial section of the RER B, was not even finalized when construction began. The equivalent of these projects in New York is the Gateway tunnel itself, at far higher cost. The surface improvements required to make this work were completed simultaneously and inexpensively; most of the ones required for New York are already on the drawing board of New Jersey Transit, budgeted in the hundreds of millions rather than billions, and will be completed before the tunnel opens unless the federal government decides to defund the agency over several successive administrations.
The errors in present operations
The report lists, on printed-pp. 40-41, some characteristics of the through-running systems used in Paris, Munich, and London. Based on those characteristics, it concludes it is not possible to set up an equivalent system at Penn Station without adding tracks or rebuilding the entire track level with more platforms. Unfortunately for the reputation of the writers of the report, and fortunately for the taxpayers of New York and New Jersey, those characteristics include major mistakes. There’s little chance anyone in the loop understands the RER, any S-Bahn worth the name, or even Crossrail and Thameslink; some of the errors are obviously false to anyone who regularly commuted on any of these systems. Thus, they are incapable of adjusting the operations to the specifics of Penn Station and Gateway.
Timetabling
A key feature of S-Bahn systems is that the trains run on a schedule. Passengers riding on the central trunk do not look at the timetable, but passengers riding to a branch do. I memorized the 15-minute off-peak Takt on the RER B when I took it to IHES in late 2016, and the train was generally on time or only slightly delayed, never so delayed that it was early. Munich-area suburbanites memorize the 20-minute Takt on their S-Bahn branch line. Some Thameslink branches drop to half-hourly frequency, and passengers time themselves to the schedule while operators and dispatchers aim to make the schedule.
And yet, the report repeatedly claims that these systems run on headway management. The first claim, on p. 40, is ambiguous, but the second, on the table on p. 41, explicitly contrasts “headway-based” with “timetable-based” service and says that Crossrail, the RER, and the Munich S-Bahn are headway-based. In fact, none of them is.
This error is significant in two ways. First, timetable-based operations explain why S-Bahn systems are capable of what they do but not of what some metros do. The Munich S-Bahn peaks at 30 trains per hour, with one-of-a-kind signaling; major metros peak at 42 trains per hour with driverless operations, and some small operations with short trains (like Brescia) achieve even more. The difference is that commuter rail systems are not captive metro trains on which every train makes the same stops, with no differentiation among successive trains on the same line; metro lines that do branch, such as M7 and M13 in Paris, are still far less complex than even relatively simple and metro-like lines like the RER A and B. The main exception among world metros is the New York City Subway, which, due to its extensive interlining, must run as a scheduled railroad, benchmarking its on-time performance (OTP) to the schedule rather than to intervals between trains. In the 2000s and 10s, New York City Transit tried to transition away from end-station OTP and toward a metric that tried to approximate even intervals, called Wait Assessment (WA); a document leaked to Dan Rivoli and me went over how this was a failure, leading to even worse delays and train slowdowns, as managers would make the dispatchers hold trains if the trains behind them were delayed.
The second consequence of the error is that the report does not get how crucial timetable-infrastructure planning integration is on mainline rail. The Munich S-Bahn has outer branches that are single-track and some that share tracks with freight, regional, and intercity trains. The 30 tph trunk does no such thing and could not do such thing, but the branches do, because the trains run on a fixed timetable, and thus it is possible to have a mix of single and double track on some sporadic sections. The Zurich S-Bahn even runs trains every 15 minutes at rush hour on a short single-track section of the Right Bank of Lake Zurich Line. Recognizing what well-scheduled commuter trains can and can’t do influences infrastructure planning on the entire surface section, including rail-on-rail grade separations, extra tracks, yard expansions, and other projects that collectively make the difference between a rail network and crayon.
Separation between through- and terminating lines
Through-running systems vary in how much track sharing there is with the rest of the mainline rail network. As far as I can tell, there is always some; near-complete separation is provided on the RER A, but its Cergy branch also hosts Transilien trains running to Gare Saint-Lazare at rush hour, and the Berlin and Hamburg S-Bahn systems have very little track-sharing as well. Other systems have more extensive track sharing, including Thameslink, the RER C and D, and the Zurich S-Bahn; the RER E and the Munich S-Bahn are intermediate in level of separation between those two poles.
It is remarkable that, while the RER A, B, and E all feature new underground terminals for dedicated lines, the situation of the RER C and D is different. The RER C uses the preexisting Gare d’Austerlitz, and has taken over every commuter line in its network; the through-connection between Gare d’Orsay and Gare d’Invalides involved reconstructing the stations, but then everything was connected to it. The RER D uses prebuilt underground stations at Gare du Nord, Les Halles, and Gare de Lyon, but then takes over nearly all lines in the Gare de Lyon network, with the outermost station, Malesherbes, not even located in Ile-de-France. Thameslink uses through-infrastructure built in the 1860s and runs as far as Petersborough, 123 km from King’s Cross on the East Coast Main Line, and Brighton, the terminus of its line, 81 km from London Bridge.
And yet, the report’s authors seem convinced the only way to do through-running is with a handful of branches providing only local service, running to new platforms built separately from the intercity terminal; they’re even under the impression the RER D is like this, which it is not. There’s even a map on p. 45, suggesting a regional metro system running as far as Hicksville, Long Beach, Far Rockaway, JFK via the Rockaway Cutoff and Queenslink, Port Washington, Port Chester, Hackensack, Paterson, Summit, Plainfield, New Brunswick, and the Amboys. This is a severe misunderstanding of how such systems work: they do not arbitrarily slice lines this way into inner and outer zones, unless there is a large mismatch in demand, and then they often just cut the outer end to a shuttle with a forced transfer, as is the case for some branches in suburban Berlin connecting to S-Bahn outer ends. Among the above-mentioned outer ends, the only one where this exception holds is Summit, where the Gladstone Branch could be cut to a shuttle or to trains only running to Hoboken – but then trains on the main line to Morristown and Dover have no reason to be treated differently from trains to Summit.
Were the report’s authors more informed about just the specific lines they look at on p. 41, let alone the broader systems, they’d know that separation between inner and outer services is contingent on specifics of track infrastructure, including whether there are four-track lines with neat separation into terminating express trains and through locals. But even if the answer is yes, as at Gare de Lyon and Gare d’Austerlitz, infrastructure planners will attempt to shoehorn whatever they can into the system, just starting from the more important inner lines, which generate more all-day demand. There don’t even need to be terminating regional trains; the Austerlitz system doesn’t, and the Gare de Lyon and Gare de l’Est systems only do due to trunk capacity limitations. In that case, they’d recognize that there is no need to have two commuter rail systems, one through-running and one not. Penn Station’s infrastructure already lends itself to allowing through-running on anything entering via the existing North River Tunnels.
Branching
S-Bahn systems usually try to keep the branch-to-trunk ratio to a manageable number. Usually, more metro-like systems have fewer branches: Crossrail has two on each side, the RER A has two to the east and three to the west, the Berlin Stadtbahn has two to the west plus short-turns and five to the east, the Berlin North-South Tunnel has three on each side. The Munich S-Bahn has five to the east and nine to the west, and the combined RER B and D system has three to the north and five to the south, but the latter has more service patterns, including local and express trains on the branches. Zurich has so much interlining that it’s not useful to count branches, and better to count services: there are 21 S-numbered routes serving Hauptbahnhof, of which 13 run through one of the two tunnels, as do some intercity trains.
If there are too many branches, then they’re usually organized as sub-branches – for example, Munich has seven numbered routes through the central tunnel, of which two have two sub-branches each splitting far out. Zurich has fewer than 13 branches on each side, but rather there are several services using each line, with inconsistent through-pairing – for example, the three services going to the airport, S2, S24, and S16, respectively run through to two separate branches of the Left Bank Line and to the Right Bank Line.
The table on p. 41 gets the branch count mildly wrong, but the significant is less in what it gets wrong about Europe and more in what it gets wrong about New York. A post-Gateway service plan is one in which New Jersey has 12 branches, but some can be viewed as sub-branches (like Gladstone and the Morristown Line), and more to the point, there are going to be two trunk lines. The current plan at New Jersey Transit is to assign the Northeast Corridor and North Jersey Coast Lines to the North River Tunnels alongside Amtrak, which is technically two branches but realistically four or even five service patterns, and the Morris and Essex, Montclair-Boonton, and Raritan Valley Lines to Gateway, which is four branches but could even be pruned to three with M&E divided into two sub-branches. The Erie lines have no way of getting to Penn Station today; to get them there requires the construction of the Bergen Loop at Secaucus, with an estimated budget of $1.3 billion in 2020, comparable to the total cost of all yet-unfunded required surface improvements in New Jersey for non-Erie service combined.
If the study authors were more comfortably knowledgeable of European S-Bahn systems, they’d know that multi-line systems, while uncommon, do exist, and divide branches in a similar way. The multiline systems (Paris, Madrid, Berlin, Zurich, and London) all have some reverse-branching, in a similar manner to how New York is soon going to have the New Haven Line reverse-branch to Penn Station and Grand Central. The NJT plan is solid and stands to lead to a manageable branch-to-trunk ratio, even with every single line going to Penn Station via the existing tunnel running through.
The consequence of the errors
The lack of familiarity with through-running commuter rail is evident in how the report talks about this technology. It is intimately related to the fact that the way investment should be done is different from what American railroaders are used to. For one, there needs to be much tighter integration between infrastructure and scheduling. For two, the scheduling needs to be massively simplified, with fewer operating patterns per line – usually one, occasionally two, never 13 as on the New Haven Line today. The same ignorance that leads Amtrak and its consultants to assert that the S-Bahn runs on headway management rather than a fixed timetable also leads them not to even know how through-running commuter rail networks plan out their routes and services.
From my position of greater familiarity as both a regular user and a researcher, I can point out that the required investments to make through-running happen in New York are entirely in line with the cheap surface projects done in the comparison cases. New rolling stock is required, with the ability to run on the different voltages of the three networks – but multi-voltage commuter rolling stock is the norm wherever multiple legacy electrification systems coexist, including Paris, London, and Hamburg. Some extensions of electrification and high platform conversions are required – but these are not expensive, and the latter is already partly funded at reasonable unit costs. Some rail-on-rail grade separations are required – but those are already costed and very likely to be funded, potentially out of the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law.
Penn Station would be used as the universal station in this schema, without the separation into a surface terminal and a through- underground station seen in Munich and Paris. But then, Paris and Munich don’t even universally have this separation themselves; Ostbahnhof was reconstructed for the S-Bahn but is still a single station, and the same is true of the RER C. In a way, Penn Station already is the underground through-station, built generations before the modern S-Bahn concept, complementing and largely replacing surface terminals like Hoboken and Long Island City because those are not in Manhattan.
None of this is hard; the hard part is the Gateway tunnel and that’s already fully funded and under construction. But it does require understanding that the United States is so many decades behind best practices that none of what American railroaders think they know is at all relevant. It’s obligatory to understand how the systems that work, in Europe and rich Asia, do, because otherwise, it’s like expecting someone who has never learned to count beyond 10 to prove mathematical theorems. The people who wrote this report clearly don’t have this understanding, and don’t care to get it, which is why what they write is not worth the electrons that make up the PDF.
Mass Transit on Orbital Boulevards
Herbert in comments has been asking me about urban rail on ring roads; Nuremberg has such a road with an active debate about what to do with it. Ring roads are attractive targets for urban rail, since they tend to be wide commercial throughfares. The one in Nuremberg is especially attractive for a tramway, or possibly a medium-capacity metro if one can be built cheaply; this is an artifact of its circumference (18 km) and the city’s size, reminiscent of the Boulevards of the Marshals hosting Paris Tramway Line 3, and the Cologne Gürtel, most of whose length has a tramway as well. Significantly closer-in ring roads, often delineating the medieval or Early Modern walls, are too small for this.
The history of such rings tends to be that they were built based on the extent of the industrial city. Cologne’s was built in the 19th century to connect growing bedroom communities to one another, where they previously only extended along the radial boulevards connecting them to the historic center. The Boulevards of the Marshals delineated the inner end of the Thiers wall from the 1840s; the Périphérique motorway is where the outer end had been. The upshot is that the construction standards are rather modern – for one, the roads are wide. Another upshot is that those roads are often destinations in and of themselves, so that radial rail lines have stops at them; the Métro has stops at every intersection with the Boulevards of the Marshals, generally named after the nearby gate (for example, I lived near Porte de Vincennes, due east along Métro Line 1).
This contrasts with older rings, including one visible on the screenshot above. Those older rings come from premodern city walls, and may not always have enough width to make it easy to build two tram lanes in the center or to do cheap cut-and-cover without disturbing the residences and businesses too much. Even when they do, they’re so close to the center the time savings from a ring at that radius are moderate. Jarrett Walker has long pointed out that people don’t travel in circles, giving the example of the Vienna Ring Road, which has two U-Bahn lines on different sections of it but no continuous ring, as a 5.3 km circle is too small to have viable long relatively linear sections. In Paris, old boulevards closer in than the ring forming Métro Lines 2 and 6 generally have Métro stops but it’s inconsistent, and there’s no coherent circular route to be built.
The modal question – tram or metro – is complicated by special elements of orbital boulevards, which sometimes cancel out, and can work differently in different cities.
In favor of light rail, there’s the issue of speed. Normally, the advantage of subways over tramways is that they’re faster. However, on a circumferential route, the importance of speed is reduced, since people are likely to only travel a relatively short arc, connecting between different radials or from a radial to an off-radial destination. What are more important than speed on such a route are easy transfers and high frequency. Easy transfers could go either way: if the radial routes are underground then it may be possible to construct underground interchanges with short walking, but it isn’t guaranteed, and if there are any difficulties, it’s better to keep it on the surface to shorten the walk time. This has in general been an argument used by pro-tram, anti-subway advocates in Germany, but on routes that rely on multiple transfers, potentially three-legged trips, it is a stronger argument than on a radial line from a suburban housing project to city center.
Frequency is especially delicate. It can be high regardless of mode. Driverless metros can reach 90-second headways or even less, but those are achieved on very busy lines, which need that frequency for throughput more than anything, like Lines 1 and 14 in Paris with their 85-second peak headways. In practice, an orbital tram, especially one in a smaller city than Paris, needs to be prioritizing frequency in order to shorten the trip, not to provide very high throughput, which means that the vehicles could be made smaller than full-size metros, to support frequency in the 3-6 minute range. This could be done at-grade with light rail, or underground with very small-profile metros akin to those used in small Italian cities like Brescia, or even some larger ones like Turin.
In favor of metro, there is the cost issue. The same factors that make speed less important and frequency more important also make it easier to build a metro. If the road is wide enough, which I think the one in Nuremberg is, then cut-and-cover is more feasible, reducing costs. The low required capacity permits intermediate-capacity metros (again, as in Brescia or some smaller French cities), with stations of perhaps 40-50 meters, reducing their construction costs. Nuremberg in particular has had some very low U-Bahn construction costs, so its ability to build an orbital U-Bahn should not be discounted. That said, even at Nuremberg costs – around $100 million/km in 2023 PPPs for U3 extensions – the extra speed provided by such a line, say half an hour to do a full orbit compared with a little less than an hour on a tram, may not be worth it necessarily, whereas such a speedup on a line that passengers may ride for 10 km unlinked would be extremely beneficial.
InnoTrans is Souring Me on On-Rail Competition
I’m at InnoTrans this week, which means I get to both see a lot of new trainsets and talk to vendors for things I am interested in. Those are interesting conversations and much of the content will make it to our upcoming report on high-speed rail in the Northeast and to some ETA reports. But then, in broad stroke, the presentations about the trains here have deeply bothered me, because of how they interact with the issue of on-rail competition. The EU has an open access mandate, so that state-owned and private railways can compete by running trains on tracks throughout the Union, with separation of operations and infrastructure (awkwardly, state railways do both but there are EU regulations prohibiting favoritism, with uneven enforcement). As a result, I’m seeing a lot of pitches geared specifically for potential open access operators, all of which remind me why I’m so negative about the whole concept: it treats infrastructure as a fixed thing and denigrates the idea that it could ever be improved, while enthroning airline-style business analysis.
Proponents of the model cite higher ridership and lower fares due to the introduction of competition in Italy and Spain, but even then, it’s never really invented anything new, and only gotten some city pairs in those two countries to the service quality that integrated state-provided services have always had in France and Germany. In effect, the EU is mandating a dead-end system of managing trains and making a collective decision not to invest in what worked – namely, building and running high-speed lines.
For people unfamiliar with the argument, I wrote a year ago about TGV ridership and traffic modeling. The TGV overperforms a model trained on Shinkansen ridership, which can be explained based on lower fares, leisure travel to the Riviera, and underdeveloped air competition in small metro areas whose residents mostly drive to larger ones to fly. Relative to the same model, Italian and Spanish ridership underperformed the TGV before competition, and rose to roughly match the TGV or be slightly deficient after competition. So competition did lead to growth in ridership, as the competitors added service and lowered fares – but it only created what the French state did by itself. The German state seems to have French-like results: the trains here are much slower than in France, but relative to that, ridership seems to be in line with a TGV-trained model on the handful of city pairs for which I have any data.
This is causing quite a lot of the buzz in the intercity rail industry in Europe to center cross-border competition and new entrants. But this is, judging by the examples the proponents of competition look up to, not creating anything new. It’s not moving rail forward. It’s just filling in gaps that some state-owned railways – but not the largest two – have in their operations.
And worse, it’s making the long-term issues of intercity rail in Europe worse. There’s practically no cross-border high-speed rail construction in Europe, nor any serious push for making it happen. After a great deal of activism by Jon Worth (and others), the European Commission is announcing regulatory measures in its agenda, starting with passenger rights in case of delays. Physical construction is nowhere on the horizon, nor is there any serious advocacy for (say) a Paris-Frankfurt high-speed line or a Bordeaux-Basque Country one. This is a recent development: in the 2000s there was more optimism about high-speed rail, leading to plans like Perpignan-Figueres. But since then, the TEN-T corridor plans turned into low-speed lines and vaporware, and there’s no real interest in fixing that.
Instead, the interest is in letting the private sector lead. State-built high-speed railways – more or less the only high-speed railways – are not in fashion. The private sector is not going to step in and build its own (despite the sad Hyperloop capsule on display at InnoTrans), but instead look for underserved city pairs to come into, competing with state railways. It’s a story of business analysts using techniques brought in from the airline industry rather than one of infrastructure builders.
And it’s exactly those airline-imitating business analysts who are why RENFE, FS, and Eurostar underprovided service to begin with. The airline world lives off of segmenting the market; there are periodic attempts at all-business class airlines, and low-cost carriers entering and exiting the market frequently. It does not build its own infrastructure, not think in terms of things that could work if the infrastructure were a little bit better. A railway that thinks in the same terms might still build, but will not build in coordination with what it runs. It will do the exact opposite of what Switzerland has done with its tight integration of infrastructure and operations planning; therefore, it will get results inferior to those of Switzerland or even France and Germany.
The trains on display at InnoTrans announce proudly that they are homologated for cross-border travel, listing the countries they can operate in. The main high-speed rail vendors here – Siemens, Hitachi, Talgo, Alstom – all talk about this, explicitly; Alstom had a presentation about the Avelia Horizon, awkwardly given in an American accent while talking about how the double-decker cars with 905 mm seat pitch (Shinkansen: 1 meter) minimize track access charges per seat.
In contrast, I have not seen anything about building new lines. I have not seen booths by firms talking about their work building LGVs or NBSes. I have not seen anything by ADIF selling its expertise in low-cost construction; there are some private engineering consultants with booths, but I haven’t seen ADIF, and the French state section of the conference didn’t at all center French construction techniques. The states that have figured out how to build high-speed rail efficiently seem uninterested in doing more with it than just completing their capital-to-provinces networks; even Germany is barely building. Naturally, they’re also uninterested in pitching their construction, even though they do do some public-sector consulting (SNCF does it routinely for smaller French cities). It’s as if the construction market is so small they’re not even going to bother.
Every other booth at the conference talks about innovation with so many synonyms that they swamp what the firm actually does. But beneath the buzzwords, what I’m seeing, at least as far as physical infrastructure goes, is the exact opposite of innovation. I’m seeing filling in small gaps caused by last generation’s bad airline imitation with a different kind of airline imitation, and nothing that moves intercity rail forward.
The MTA Capital Plan Falsifies Subway History
The 2025-29 capital plan is out, and it is not good. There’s an outline of an ETA report to be released soon going over issues like accessibility, rolling stock costs, and the new faregates. But for now, I’d like to just focus on a high-level issue and how it relates to the subway’s history: State of Good Repair. The capital plan has a summary history of past capital plans on PDF-page 8, and it calls the 1990s and 2000s an era of underinvestment and deferred maintenance, the exact opposite of reality. It treats 2017 as a keystone year for system renewal, which it was not; it was, however, the year current MTA chair Janno Lieber was hired as the head of MTA Construction and Development (formerly Capital Construction). In effect, the plan falsifies the history of the system in order to treat the current leadership as saviors, in service of a plan to spend more money than in 2020-24 while having less to show for it, washing it all with the nebulous promise of State of Good Repair.
The history of State of Good Repair
Traditionally, capital investment is conceived as going to expansion. In New York in the first two thirds of the 20th century, this meant new subway and elevated lines, new connections between subway lines, station upgrades to lengthen the platforms, and new transfers between stations that had previously belonged to different operators. Maintenance was treated as an ongoing expense.
The finances of the subway after WW1 were shaky, and from the Depression onward, it never made money again. Of the two private operators, one, the IRT, was in bankruptcy protection during the Depression, while the public operator, the IND, was debt-ridden due to exceptionally high construction costs for that era and overbuilding. This made it attractive to defer maintenance, on the subway as on mainline rail everywhere in the United States. In 1951, bond money was designated for Second Avenue Subway, but then the money was raided for other priorities, including smaller extensions but also capital renewal, such as replacing the almost 50-year-old IRT rolling stock fleet.
In the 1970s, the city’s poor finances meant it couldn’t subsidize operations and maintenance as much as before, and the maintenance deferral led to a systemwide collapse. NYCSubway.org goes over the various elements of it: chunks of equipment and material were falling onto the street from the elevated lines, and onto the tracks from the retaining walls of open cuts; trains had flat wheels and no lubrication, leading to such squeal that the noise was worse than that of Concorde; train doors and lights malfunctioned; derailments and fires were common. By 1981, the mean distance between failures (MDBF) dropped to its lowest ever, 6,640 miles (10,690 km). One third of the system was under emergency 10 mph speed restrictions, and a quarter of the rolling stock had to be kept in reserve to substitute for equipment failures and could not be run in maximum revenue service. The new trains bought for the system, the R44 and R46, used new technology, for example higher top speed for the use on long express sections, but were defective to the point that the lawsuits against the vendors, St. Louis and Pullman respectively, bankrupted them. The origin of the conservatism of rolling stock orders and the pattern that all American rolling stock manufacture is done at transplant factories owned by European, Japanese, or formerly Canadian firms, are both the result of this history.
The State of Good Repair program as we know it dates to the 1980s, when the MTA, starting with the leadership of Richard Ravitch, began to prioritize maintenance and renewal over expansion. This meant five-year capital programs, to reduce the incentives to defer maintenance in a single year, and a lot of openly crying poverty, where leaders both before and after Ravitch would prefer to extoll the system and downplay its shortcomings. There was large spending on capital as a result, but no Second Avenue Subway. Instead, money went to renewal. Rolling stock was more conservative; the R62 was also imported from Japan, since Reagan cut federal aid to mass transit and so the MTA was free from Buy America’s strictures (in contrast, today states prefer to preemptively obey even when they’re not sure they will get federal funding, and even demand in-state plants). Its mean distance between failures was far higher than that of all other rolling stock, and this greater reliability continued into the R62A, R68, and R68A orders; the systemwide mean distance between failures kept climbing throughout the 1980s, 1990s, and 2000s, to a peak of around 180,000 miles, or around 280,000 km, in 2005 and again in 2010-11. The slow restrictions that characterized the system in the 1970s were lifted, and rolling stock availability for maximum service rose.
The construction of Second Avenue Subway beginning in 2007 was not viewed as a rebuke to the SOGR program, but rather as the legacy of its success. Leaders like Lee Sander spoke of growth and new lines, setting the stage for what is now known as IBX and was known in then as Triboro RX. The political discourse in the United States at the time was one of transit revival, due to the then-new decoupling of car driving and oil use from economic growth, and the high fuel prices; this was also around the time American discourse discovered European and Japanese high-speed rail, setting the stage for Proposition 1A approving the construction of California High-Speed Rail in 2008.
The present of State of Good Repair
I’ve repeatedly criticized SOGR as a scheme allowing agency heads to demand money with nothing to show for it. The behavior of current MTA leadership is one such example; it is not the only one – Amtrak did the same under Joe Boardman in the 2000s. But it needs to be made clear that the SOGR program of the 1980s and 90s was an unmitigated success. There was visible improvement in the system due to better maintenance of fixed plant and more prudent capital investments, such as the trainsets bought in the era from the R62 to the R160. The present problems of the SOGR concept come essentially because its success in the 1980s and 90s led agencies to talk about it as the next hot thing, even while going in a rather different direction.
In the 2010s, the subway started facing new problems – but these were not problems of undermaintenance. The MDBF crept down to a little less than 120,000 miles at the bottom, in 2017, and was 125,000 miles in 2023. The oldest trains are the worst, but much of the problem comes from other issues than slow replacement of fixed plant. For example, the ongoing slowdowns on the subway – even in the 2000s it was slower than before the 1970s collapse, and speeds are noticeably lower when I visit than when I lived in the city in 2006-11 – come not from insufficient maintenance, but from tighter flagging rules, which are designed to protect workers on adjacent track, but in fact have coincided with more worker injuries than in 1999, with a particular deterioration in worker safety in the 2010s. Andy Byford’s Save Safe Seconds campaign was the right response to the slowdowns, and helped stop the bleeding.
And yet, the idea of SOGR persists, even though the problem it purported to solve has been solved. The worst offender is Amtrak: in the Obama stimulus, it asked for $10 billion for SOGR on the Northeast Corridor, promising trivial reductions in travel times; Amtrak’s chair at the time, Joe Boardman, was the very one who deferred maintenance in order to make Amtrak look more profitable on paper in the service of the Bush administration’s goal of eventual privatization, replacing David Gunn, who was fired because he refused to do so.
In effect, SOGR is now a byword for “investments that aren’t sexy.” Some of those investments are still solid, like those done in the 1990s. Others are wastes of money; their lack of sexiness makes them ideal for managers who rate themselves by the input of how much money their agencies get rather than by outputs like ridership or service quality, since the lack of visible output disempowers civil society and good government watchdogs.
MTA Construction and Development head Jamie Torres-Springer essentially uses this definition in his defense of the capital plan, saying “We looked very closely at a couple of asset types that haven’t been focused on in the past. And to some people, they’re not the most exciting assets. They’re the ones that ensure that we can provide service. It’s structures and power and station components.”
The MTA’s capital plan is likewise denigrating the agency’s own past, saying, of the era in which MDBF rose by a factor of about nine in the span of 15 years, “Investment lagged again in the 1990s and early 2000s” and “After years of progress in the 1980s, investment fell off, culminating in a ‘Summer of Hell’ in 2017. That year, New York’s subway had one of the worst on-time performance of any major rapid transit systems in the world, with only 65% of weekday trains reaching their destinations on-time.”
The problems of train delays are not about investment or about maintenance. Rather, the train delays were about overly ambitious schedules, compounding with the problems of excessive interlining. Of course, interlining had always been present in the system, but the combination of new trains with better braking and signal timers installed based on the performance of older trains meant that the schedules could not be met without slowdowns; managers, in turn, changed how they measured punctuality from on-time performance to wait assessment, the latter more appropriate for subway lines with high frequency (like New York) and little complexity (unlike New York). MTA President Ronnie Hakim, coming from a legal rather than technical background, also denigrated the idea of speed, viewing it not as an essential feature of public transit but as a source of legal liability.
Non-sexy investment can target this; Byford alleviated some of the slowdowns with Save Safe Seconds. In the future, deinterlining the system, starting from DeKalb Avenue’s scrambling of the B, D, N, and Q, where trains lose two minutes due to schedule padding entirely to protect from cascading delays, is necessary. But this is not SOGR – in fact zero dollars are required in capital spending to deinterline DeKalb. Nor is it invisible – this is a visible change on the subway map, which passengers and good government watchdogs can judge for themselves, trading off fewer one-seat rides for higher speed and reliability.
But neither Lieber nor Torres-Springer seems interested in inexpensive fixes. No: both rate themselves by how much money they get rather than by whether it does any good, hence the denigration of the era in which SOGR was a success. As political appointees, they also have no loyalty to the system and its permanent staff, or even to well-regarded leaders (Byford, again) who do not come from the same political milieu. They fail because they exist to allow incompetent governors like Cuomo and Hochul to control a system they have no business running.
Public Transportation and Gig Workers
An argument about public transportation fares on Bluesky two weeks ago led to the issue of gig workers, and how public transportation can serve their needs. Those are, for the purposes of this post, workers who do service jobs on demand, without fixed hours or a fixed place of work; these include delivery and cleaning workers. App-hailed drivers fall into this category too, but own cars and are by definition driving. When using public transit – and such workers rarely get paid enough to afford a car – they face long, unreliable travel times, usually by bus; their work travel is completely different from that of workers with consistent places of work, which requires special attention that I have not, so far, seen from transit agencies, even ones that do aim at service-sector shift workers.
The primary issue is one of work centralization. Public transit is the most successful when destinations are centralized; it scales up very efficiently because of the importance of frequency, whereas cars are the opposite, scaling up poorly and scaling down well because of the problems with traffic congestion. I went over this previously talking about Los Angeles, and then other American cities plus Paris. High concentration of jobs, more so than residential density (which Los Angeles has in droves), predicts transit usage, at metro area scale.
Job concentration is also fairly classed. In New York, as of 2015, the share of $40,000+/year workers who worked in the Manhattan core was 57%; for under-$40,000/year workers, it was 37%. It is not an enormous difference, but it makes enough of a difference that it makes it more convenient for the middle class to take transit, since it gets to where they want to go. In metro New York, the average income of transit commuters is the same as that of solo drivers; in secondary American transit cities like Chicago, transit commuters actually make more, since transit is so specialized to city center commutes.
Worse, those 37% of under-$40,000/year workers who work in the Manhattan core are ones with regular low-paying jobs in city center, rather than ones doing gig work. The difference is that gig workers work where the middle class lives, rather than where the middle class works (for example, food service workers at office buildings) or where it consumes (for example, mall retail workers). They still generally take transit or bike where that’s available (for example, in Berlin), because they don’t earn enough to afford cars, but their commutes are the ones that public transit is the worst at. They can’t even control where they work and move accordingly, because they by definition do gigs. In theory, it’s possible for apps to match workers to jobs within the right region or along the right line; in practice, the situation today is that the apps can send a worker from Bytom to Gliwice today and a worker from Gliwice to Bytom tomorrow, based on vagaries of regional supply and demand, and the Polish immigrant who complained to me about this with the names of those two specific cities wishes there were a way to match it better, but at least currently, there isn’t.
The upshot is that gig worker travel is, more or less, a subcase of isotropic, everywhere-to-everywhere systems, with no distinguished nodes. This has all of the following implications:
- Travel by rail alone is infeasible – last-mile bus connections are unavoidable, as are uncommon transfers, with three- and at times four-legged trips.
- The bus network has to have the usual features of a modernized, redesigned network, with high all-day frequency and regular transfers – suburb-to-city-center buses alone don’t cut it when the work is rarely in city center, and a focus on rush hour service is useless for workers who mostly travel outside peak hours. This also includes reforms that improve buses in general, regardless of the route taken: proof of payment, bus lanes, stop consolidation, bus shelter, signal priority at intersections.
- For the most part, the buses that take gig workers to work are the same that could take residents of those neighborhoods to work, in the opposite direction. However, in areas with weaker transit than Berlin or New York, much of the middle class drives, making buses within usually lower-density middle-class areas infeasible. In contrast, those buses are still likely to be used by gig workers doing service work in the homes of those drivers.
The last point, in particular, means that one of the more brutal features of bus redesigns – cutting coverage service in order to focus on the more useful routes – can be counterproductive. This is, again, not relevant to large enough cities that their middle classes mostly don’t live in coverage route territory (even Queens doesn’t need this tradeoff, let alone Brooklyn). But in New Haven, for example, Sandy Johnston long pointed out that some of the bus routes just don’t really work, no matter what, because the areas they serve are too low-density, so the only way forward is to prune them.
This more brutal treatment can still be understandable at times. If the route is being straightened rather than eliminated, as we discussed for Sioux City years later, then it provides all workers with faster service – the meanders if anything are to big job centers that are a few hundred meters off the arterial, and gig workers are less likely to be using those meanders than regular service workers. Moreover, if the part being pruned is genuinely low-density, then it may well also have low density of destinations for gig workers. However, if the part being pruned has moderate density, and is just considered low density because the residents are rich enough they never take the bus, then it’s likely to be useful for gig workers, and should when possible be retained, likely with no extra peak service, only base service.
Evidently, routes like that are sometimes understood to have this class of rider, though perhaps not in this language. This is most visible in suburban NIMBYism against buses: a number of middle-class American suburbs oppose the introduction of bus service that may be useful for regular riders, for fear that poor people might use it to get to their areas; in Massachusetts, those suburbs are fine with buses making one stop in the periphery of their town, triggering a paratransit mandate under the state’s interpretation of the Americans with Disabilities Act (in most states it’s within 0.75 miles, but in Massachusetts it’s town-wide), but oppose any further penetration by regular transit.
To be clear, most of the things that would disproportionately benefit gig workers also benefit the network writ large: faster buses with off-board fare collection and (in denser urban areas) bus lanes would make a great difference, and so would shifting service away from the peak. But the network design principles at granular enough a level to discuss pruning marginal routes really do differ, and it’s important to get this right and, at the very least, avoid empowering aggrieved rich people who hire maids and then do local activism to make it harder for their maids to get to their houses.
To be clear on another point, none of these reforms would make traveling to clean a randomly-selected apartment in a residential neighborhood pleasant. But they could, through smoother bus travel time and transfers, replace a 1.5-hour commute with a 1-1.25-hour one, which would make a significant, if not life-altering, improvement in the comfort levels as well as productivity (and thus pay) of gig workers. It mirrors many other egalitarian social interventions, in producing a moderate level of income and quality of life compression, rather than a change in the rank ordering by income.
Quick Note: Flushing’s Growth and Through-Running
One of the dirty secrets of my (and ETA’s) New York commuter rail through-running proposal is that it barely connects Long Island to New Jersey. The later lines with the longer greenfield tunnels do, but the base proposal only through-runs the Port Washington Branch to New Jersey, and with some work it can also through-run some branches to the Hudson Line via Penn Station.
Credit: Kara Fischer, ETA; Flushing is not depicted on the map and is on the Port Washington Branch
It’s long been a criticism of the plan in comments and on social media that it doesn’t do anything to connect Newark with Jamaica. I’d like to address this briefly, since changes in work geography over the last decade have made the Port Washington connection more valuable relative to the Jamaica connection.
Job counts
For the main secondary centers that are or could be on this system, here are the job counts within 1 km of the station, in the business cycle peak years of 2007 and 2019:
| Station | 2007 jobs | 2019 jobs |
| Newark Penn Station | 57,944 | 44,171 |
| Sunnyside – Queens Boulevard | 40,092 | 63,096 |
| Flushing | 17,026 | 42,961 |
| Jamaica | 11,880 | 20,130 |
| Stamford | 25,189 | 25,141 |
Source: OnTheMap
Jamaica and Flushing both grew rapidly in the 2007-19 business cycle, but Flushing both started bigger and grew faster, to the point of approaching the job count near Newark Penn Station.
Long Island City has seen booming development, as the only near-center neighborhood in New York with significant construction rates; the number of residents has grown even faster, from 4,502 to 12,183 employed residents over the same period, but with a jobs-to-employed-residents ratio higher than 5, it is a business district first. Plans for an infill station at Queens Boulevard are on the MTA’s wishlist in the 20 Year Needs Assessment, at typically extreme MTA costs; this is separate from Sunnyside Junction, somewhat to the east, which has less development but could be a cross-platform transfer with East Side Access-bound trains.
Non-work trips
Flushing is a booming ethnic center for Chinese-New Yorkers. Jobs there serve the community wherever its members live, and so do non-work destinations, including cultural centers and well-regarded Chinese restaurants. This generates not only work trips, but also consumption trips. Without fast transit to Flushing, it’s a special occasion to go there for food, especially if one does not live on the subway; with fast transit, Flushing restaurants are capable of outcompeting more local alternatives for people arriving from inner New Jersey, and people from suburbs farther out may choose to take a more frequent LIRR than to drive.
Jamaica is not a regional center of much. There is one big trip generator there, other than the growing job center: JFK, via the AirTrain. Airport connections are valuable, but also overrated. The unlinked (likely total) ridership on the AirTrain in the first three months of 2024 was 1.924 million, or 21,143/day (not weekday), slightly higher than in 2019. This is not a high modal split, but airport arrivals are disproportionately going to Manhattan already, and the frequency between Penn Station and Jamaica is high enough that through-running and other modernization elements would only mildly increase this figure.
I can’t quite compare the two figures, since leisure trips, especially routine ones like going out to restaurants, are hard to measure. But Jamaica’s airport trips coming from better commuter rail are just not going to be significant in volume by the standards of the work trips of Long Island City or Flushing.
Through-running schemas
The reason I’ve advocated for through-running from New Jersey to the Port Washington Branch and no other LIRR line is operational. There is only enough capacity for at most 12 trains per hour, because the trains have to share tracks with Penn Station Access local trains to Stamford and with intercity trains. Connecting to an LIRR branch serving Jamaica would create complex branching, with the same line in Queens reverse-branching to different destinations, reducing reliability. It was hard enough to timetable the reverse-branched New Haven Line in our Northeast Corridor project. The Port Washington Branch, running completely separately from the rest of the system, sharing tracks only on the approach to and within Penn Station, is an ideal candidate.
It is a happy coincidence that the through-running schema for the LIRR that is easiest to implement also happens to serve the larger Queens business center between the two traditional ones. It would also be a great opportunity to build infill in Long Island City, which has emerged in the last few decades to be a much larger center. Another happy coincidence is that, while New Haven Line timetabling has been difficult, there is room in the schedule for two infill stations in Queens without upsetting the delicate track sharing between Penn Station Access local commuter trains and intercity trains within the East River Tunnels to Penn Station. Anything involving mainline rail through legacy cities is necessarily going to have to rely on tricks, waivers, and happy coincidences like this to cobble together a good system out of a region that had no reason to be built in 1900-30 around the commuter rail technology of the 1970s-2020s.
Costing Northeast Corridor High-Speed Rail
As our high-speed rail project draws to a close, we need to not just write down what is needed for running the trains but also how much it costs. This post should be viewed as a work in progress, and it will not surprise me if I’m missing things that will make it to the report later this year.
The rule for this post is that costs only matter going forward, not backward. If it’s already committed, it’s not part of the budget; in particular, the $6 billion Frederick Douglass Tunnel, already fully funded and in the design and engineering phase, is not part of the budget. In addition, only infrastructure is costed, not rolling stock (new rolling stock may well have negative cost relative to current plans, through buying standard EMUs and not esoteric trainsets like Massachusetts’ battery train idea or nonstandard LIRR/Metro-North-style EMUs).
Bypasses
All bypasses can be seen on this map, but not all bypasses are part of the plan – in particular, nothing between Stamford and New Haven seems worth it for now.
The main bypass we’re proposing, between New Haven and Kingston, is 120 km in relatively easy terrain, including two constrained river bridges (Quinnipiac and Thames; the Connecticut is easier), but no tunnels. The cost should be in line with non-tunneled high-speed lines in Europe, which in 2024 dollars would be around $5 billion.
The secondary bypass, around Port Chester and Greenwich, is 7 km of complex els crossing I-95 multiple times, and should be costed at the upper end of els, which is high hundreds of millions. Call it $1 billion together with a new bridge across the Mianus. The current projected cost for the Cos Cob Bridge replacement is higher, but it should be easier to rebuild the bridge a bit upstream to straighten the approach curves than to do it in situ; with a short section of 4% grades on each side, it should be possible to clear I-95 west of the river and keep the Riverside station east of the river while also having around 23 meters of clearance below the bridge. (4% grades are routine for EMUs; freight trains are so long that they can ascend these grades just fine, since what matters is the grade averaged over the length of the train.)
Frankford Junction is about 2 km of complex urban el, including a rail-on-rail grade separation; the per km cost is likely high, in the very low three-figure millions, but it’s 2 km and so $300 million should cover it.
The other bypasses are very short and in easy environments, for example easing the curve at Kingston (also discussed here), with costs dominated by the track connections rather than the physical construction of 1-2 km of at-grade track outside urban areas. Call this entire portion $6.5 billion total.
Grade separations
The starting point is that NJ Transit thinks that Hunter Flyover should be $300 million in 2022 prices (source, PDF-p. 151). This is as close as can be to a nonnegotiable element of the program.
At the other end of the New York metro area, there’s Shell Interlocking/CP 216, which must be grade-separated as well, and is even more nonnegotiable. I have not seen recent cost figures; it should be comparable to Hunter or somewhat more expensive given the right-of-way constraints. A $500 million placeholder is probably right.
Further north, the junction with the New Canaan Branch is flat and needs to be grade-separated, at a cost likely similar to Hunter, in a similarly built-up area. The Danbury and Waterbury Branches have flat junctions too, but traffic is low enough that they may be kept so (especially Waterbury), but if not, Danbury seems comparable in difficulty to Hunter and New Canaan.
In Philadelphia, the Chestnut Hill West Line (former R8) has a flat junction with the Northeast Corridor, and there are a variety of proposals for what to do with it; for decades, an advocate wish was the Swampoodle Connection, to have it transition to a closely parallel line letting it enter the city via the Reading side rather than the former Pennsylvania Railroad side that it’s on. It’s largely dropped off the wishlist, and instead a grade separation could be done for a cost comparable to that of Hunter, or maybe less (potentially much less) if it’s possible to abuse the line’s low ridership and close proximity to the Chestnut Hill East Line to have shutdowns to speed up the work.
On the other side of Philadelphia, the junction between the intercity and commuter rail approaches to 30th Street is flat as well, which also incorporates the branch to Media/Elwyn (former R3); this should be grade-separated as well.
In Boston, there are two flat junctions on the Providence Line. Canton Junction separates it from the Stoughton Line, and looks routine to either grade-separate (it’s a low-density area) or, potentially, even turned into a shuttle with timed connections to the Providence Line if absolutely necessary, given the demand mismatch between the two branches. The Franklin Line, farther north, has a similar flat junction around Readville, technically within Boston but in an area with plenty of space, but can be sent over to the Fairmount Line if there are difficulties, and may even preferentially go to Fairmount regardless (the main argument against it is service to Back Bay). The answer to “how much should this cost?” is “no more than around $150 million each or else it’s better not to do it at all.”
In total, these should be around $1.8 billion, with New Canaan and Canton but not Danbury or Readville.
Note that rail-on-rail grade separations for bypasses are already priced in, especially New Haven-Kingston, which is of comparable length to European high-speed lines that have been built, with grade-separated connections to legacy lines.
Portal Bridge
The Hudson Tunnel Project within the Gateway Program is funded, but some tie-ins are not. Most (such as Penn Expansion) are useless, but one is essential: a second Portal Bridge, to ensure four tracks of capacity from New York to Newark. The current favored alternative is a lift bridge, budgeted at $800 million; it is a movable and not fixed bridge, but it is not a causeway and has some clearance below, and would only need to open when a sludge barge comes from upriver, which can be scheduled overnight.
High platforms
Everything that touches the Northeast Corridor needs high platforms at all stations. The definition of “touches the Northeast Corridor” is complicated; for example, in New Jersey, there are 68 low-platform stations on the lines that go through Newark Penn or Newark Broad Street, of which 26 are funded for high-platform conversions for around $23 million each ($683 million/30 stations; the other four are on the Erie lines), but of the 68, only 10 are on the lines that would be using the North River Tunnels after the Hudson Tunnel Project opens (see map in ETA’s report). Even taking all 42 as required, it’s around $1 billion at NJ Transit costs, with nearly all benefits accruing to commuter lines.
In Massachusetts, the definition is easier – everything on the Providence and Stoughton Lines needs to be raised; the TransitMatters report explains that there are eight stations, plus two potential infills, with the eight costing around $200 million in 2020 prices, which should be closer to $250 million in 2024 prices. If Franklin Line work is also desired then it should be another $200 million, split across more stations but with shorter platforms. Note that the second phase of South Coast Rail, if it is built, would extend the Stoughton Line, but as the stations are all new construction, they will already have high platforms.
In Pennsylvania, nearly total separation of intercity traffic from SEPTA is possible from the get-go – the only track sharing is peripheral, in and around Wilmington, at low frequency on SEPTA. If the entire Wilmington/Newark Line is to be upgraded, it’s a total of 12 stations, all in four-track territory; SEPTA’s construction costs for high platforms are lower than those of the MBTA and NJ Transit, but much of its construction has been single-platform stations with shorter trains, and my guess is that those 12 stations are around $200 million total. The seven inaccessible stations on the Trenton Line, which, to be clear, does not need to share tracks with intercity trains at all, should be another $100-150 million (it’s a busier line, so, longer trains, and North Philadelphia is more complex).
In Maryland, two stations on the Penn Line are inaccessible, West Baltimore and Martin State Airport. West Baltimore is being upgraded as part of the Douglass Tunnel program, while Martin State Airport has a separate program, which appears funded.
In total, all of this is around $1.8 billion, with the benefits going to commuters at such rate that state matches would be expected; in Massachusetts at least, there are talks about doing it as part of the Regional Rail program, but no firm commitment.
Electrification
The variable-tension catenary south of New York, as users of the Northeast Corridor were reminded two months ago, is substandard. It’s long been a wish to replace it with constant-tension catenary, to both improve reliability and permit unrestricted speeds, up from today’s 135 mph (217 km/h).
Unfortunately, precisely because it’s a longstanding Amtrak project, the project definitions have been written in a way that is not compatible with any cost-effective construction. For example, Amtrak is under the impression that the catenary poles have to be redone because higher speeds require denser pole spacing; in fact, catenary systems sold routinely by European vendors allow high speeds at spacing that exists already on the legacy Northeast Corridor system.
This makes costing this more difficult; Amtrak’s official figures are of little relevance to a project that has even cursory levels of interest in adopting European practices. With the poles and substations already usable, the wire tensioning should cost less than installing new wires; around half of the cost of new-build electrification is the substations and transformers and the other half is the wires, so take the cost of new-build systems outside the US and Canada, cut in half, and then double back to take into account that it’s a four-track corridor. This is around $3 million/km, so around $1 billion corridor-wide.
Commuter rail lines that touch the Northeast Corridor need to be wired as well, and then it’s a matter of which ones count as touching, as with the high platform item. This includes 25 km of the North Jersey Coast Line, 72 km of the Raritan Valley Line, 31 km of the Morristown Line, 30 km of the Montclair-Boonton Line, 38 km of the Danbury Branch, a few hundred meters of Providence Line siding tracks, 6 km of the Stoughton Line, 34 km of the Franklin Line, and 15 km of the Fairmount Line. Much of the unwired territory is single-track, so lower per-km costs can be expected, on the order of $600 million total.
Together, this is about $1.6 billion.
Total
The sum of all of the above lines is $12.5 billion. It’s possible to go lower than this: the high platform and electrification costs are partly modernizing commuter rail that may not quite use the Northeast Corridor, and the Greenwich bypass may be dropped at the cost of 80 seconds (more, if Cos Cob Bridge speed limits have to be lower than what right-of-way geometry allows). A numerological $10 billion limit can still be met this way.
Pedestrian Observations 