Commuter Suburbs and Express and Local Trains

At both TransitMatters and my ongoing Northeast Corridor high-speed rail timetabling project, one question we face is how to mix local and express trains on the same line. I blogged about this years ago, but that was from first principles and this is from a much better position of using Devin Wilkins’ code and analysis of recent research on rail timetabling to evaluate alternatives.

Most of this post is going to be about the Worcester Line in Boston, which we used as a test case; thus, the following two sections cover how to modernize the line, which will be covered in greater detail in an upcoming TransitMatters report, and you can skip them if you genuinely don’t care about Boston. But much of the analysis generalizes, especially when it relates to the issue of American commuter suburbs and their land use. This land use makes neat express patterns hard to justify in most cases, and the outcome in historic American planning has often been irregular patterns, which in postwar suburban New York led to regularizing around zonal express trains, designed to be usable only by rush hour suburb-to-city commuters and nobody else. Nonetheless, it’s still possible to run coherent timetables that make suburb-to-city commutes convenient while also making other trips viable – it just requires running fewer express trains in most cases.

The Worcester Line’s current situation

The Worcester Line connects Boston and Worcester. It is 71 km long and double-track and has 17 stops on the way. There is a planned infill station within Boston at West Station in Allston, and one to four potential infill locations on the way (Newton Corner is the most interesting; the other three are US 20 and the poorly-named Plantation Street in Worcester and Parsons Street in Faneuil). On the way, it passes largely through commuter suburbs of Boston, with one intermediate city, Framingham, station #12 out of Boston, at km-point 34.4, dividing the line into an inner and outer zone. Atypically for a Boston commuter line, seven stations in the inner zone not only don’t have level boarding, but also don’t even have a railcar length’s worth of high platform for wheelchair accessibility (called “mini-highs” in Boston).

All trains are pulled by diesel locomotives. Currently, off-peak and on weekends, all trains make all stops, running roughly hourly. At rush hour, trains either run local between Framingham and Boston, or express between Worcester and Boston, the latter trains running nonstop between the last station in Boston (Boston Landing, #3) and West Natick (#11) and running local beyond; each of the two patterns ran roughly half-hourly before corona, but currently runs roughly every 45 minutes.

Exceptionally, reverse-peak and some midday trains do not stop at the Newton stations (#4-6), where not only are the platforms low but also they only serve one track, and so the peak trains use the track with Newton platforms and the reverse-peak trains use the track without; they switch to the usual right-hand running farther west, the line running infrequently enough it can be scheduled. However, a project to build high platforms on both tracks at these stations is currently in design, and all future modernization assumes it will be completed by then; the current pattern is so atypical that what should generalize is the timetable after completion, not the current one.

Worcester Line modernization and timetabling

Modernization of the Worcester Line means, at a minimum, high platforms at all stations and electrification. This is the starting point of everything that follows; while the North American rail network has practically no electrification measured by route-length, the electrified share measured by ridership is fairly high (nearly all ridership in metro New York is on electric lines, for one).

The combination of those two, plus the improvements in reliability that would follow permitting less timetable padding, would make trip times much faster. Where today, locals to Framingham take 58 minutes and expresses to Worcester take 1:26, EMUs would do these trips in 35 and 46 minutes respectively even with infill stations, or maybe slightly more with schedule padding. This would induce higher ridership, requiring higher frequency – not to mention that at stations 15-20 minutes out of Boston, which the Newton stations will be if this is implemented, increasing frequency from a train every 30 minutes to a train every 15 or ideally less would increase ridership in and of itself.

Then, there’s planning for intercity trains beyond Worcester, to Springfield, which is called East-West Rail in Massachusetts. The plans have gotten some funding, but it isn’t enough, and the current plans are still measured in diesel trains per day and not electric trains per hour. But for future planning, we look at space for faster trains, running even faster than Boston-Worcester express trains. Internally in meetings, Devin has come to calling the three patterns local (current locals), local-express (current expresses, so named because they run local between Framingham and Worcester), and Heart-to-Hub (trains running express between Framingham and Worcester, named after a daily express train that got a lot of love from Worcester boosters but not much ridership). The Heart-to-Hub’s ridership was low and therefore its main use is to speed up Boston-Springfield trips. We express frequency in trains per hour at rush hour in both directions, in the order above: 4/4/0 means the local and local-express patterns run every 15 minutes and there are no Heart-to-Hubs, 4/2/2 means the locals run every 15 minutes and the other two run every 30 minutes, etc.

To boost frequency to 4/4/0 or 4/2/2, even with very fast EMU acceleration rates, requires additional infrastructure. The options are to rebuild Framingham from an at-grade two-track station to an elevated four-track station, so that locals could terminate while local-express and Heart-to-Hub trains continue west, and to add a third track in Wellesley (current stops #7-9, the overtake done toward the east). An ongoing plan to triple-track both Wellesley and Natick is budgeted at $400 million, including four station rebuilds; even net of the rebuilds, it’s expensive, and being able to build a shorter triple-track section would save a lot. (Another option is a modified 4/0/4, with the locals running all the way to Worcester; close to 100% of the riders from the local outer-zone stations would transfer at Framingham.)

Anything beyond eight trains per hour requires too much extra infrastructure – at a minimum, both quad-tracking Framingham and triple-tracking Wellesley, and even then the timetable would be fragile. A coherent 4/4/2 pattern would even require an additional passing track around Southborough (stop #14): the issue is that local-express and Heart-to-Hub trains have narrow windows to depart between pairs of local trains, so if there are four local trains per hour and six express trains, then two pairs of express trains have to be closely spaced, forcing an overtake on the outer section even though the speed difference between them is small.

Thankfully, the Worcester Line can live with eight peak trains per hour indefinitely: it’s a doubling over current frequency, and modernization stands to raise ridership by more than that but largely off-peak, as the modal split at rush hour is healthy.

Short-turn trains

Eight trains per hour on the Worcester Line, four running local to Framingham and four running express to Framingham and continuing on to Worcester, is solid. But are there other ways to shove more trains in? This is where the compromises that lead to irregular express patterns become apparent.

The first possibility is to add short-turn trains: those are trains that run short of the outer terminal. Technically, Framingham locals can be thought of as short-turns, but it’s perhaps better to think of Framingham as the outer terminal of local trains, and then conceive of local trains turning short of that. Newton is a good candidate for short-turns: it is on the dense side for an American suburb, it’s close to Boston, and there’s a place for trains to short-turn off the track via a disused connection to Riverside, where the Green Line D branch terminates. But this still doesn’t work, for a subtle reason that generalizes.

The generalization is that instead of the three names for future Worcester Line trains, we will have more patterns, so let’s refer to them by letters. Local trains are L; local trains that turn short are M. Express trains are X (local-express) and Y (Heart-to-Hub), but in the most general case, it’s fine to think in terms of just L, M, and X, since on the inner zone, X and Y make the same stops.

The issue is that X and Y trains still have to fit between L trains or between L and M trains. Under the 4/2/2 option, with Framingham overtakes and no short-turns, outbound departures look roughly as follows:

:00 X
:02 L
:15 Y
:17 L
(Repeat every half hour)

L is allowed to take at most 11 more minutes to get to the overtake point than X/Y, otherwise X/Y have to be slowed down. Under our current assumptions, this is the exact difference. So there’s no space for additional trains unless they turn short, enough that by the time they’d be overtaken mid-line, they’re on the spur to Riverside. This leads to the following principle: if short-turn locals are added to a line with local and express trains, the express train must run behind a short-turn local and not a full-line local. Concretely, where would M short-turns fit? It would look roughly as follows:

:00 X
:02 L
:07 M
:15 Y
:17 L
:22 M
(Repeat every half hour)

This shoves more frequency on the line, which is good for residents of the stations served by M, neutral to slightly bad for everyone else, and costly. The issue is that on the section where M trains run, the operating costs are those of eight local trains per hour, but the maximum gap is not 7.5 but 10 minutes. Moreover, the trains arriving after the longer gap are L trains and not M trains. Thus, the L trains would end up considerably more crowded than the M trains – all passengers traveling beyond the short-turn would be on L and so would two-thirds of the passengers traveling on the short-turn section. Ideally, if there are programmed irregular gaps on a line with short-turn trains, the short-turns should arrive after the longer gap and not after the shorter gap; if L departs :02 and M departs :12, then L takes just one-third of the passengers on the shared section and M takes two-thirds, which manages capacity better. But the presence of X and Y makes this impossible, because X and Y have to run behind M and ahead of L and still have a fairly long gap from M to avoid having to overtake.

Irregular express patterns

Okay, so short-turn trains are not a good way to add capacity to a line with a mix of local and express trains. This leads to the next step: slowing down some express trains, reducing the speed difference between locals and expresses, and compensating by running more express trains serving different stations.

On the Worcester Line, this means running trains in the pattern Y-X-L, with X making more stops to slow it down a little. But this then raises the question of which intermediate stops get to run express.

The New York City Subway standard of having express stops at regular intervals every three to six stations doesn’t work on commuter rail. The subway is designed around four-track trunk lines with cross-platform transfers at express stations, and those work because the trains are very frequent (or, off-peak, used to be). What works for a four-track system that runs local trains every five minutes doesn’t work for a two-track one that runs them every 15. On a commuter rail network, if a station only gets local trains, there is not going to be an opportunity to transfer, not at the scale we’re talking about.

The simplest answer to who gets the express stations is “the busiest stations.” This is a valid answer. Here is the RER B, between Massy-Palaiseau and Cité-Universitaire, the last station within Paris, where all trains make all stops. Off-peak, the southbound stopping patterns include S trains to Robinson on a branch, K trains making all stops to Massy, and P trains running express to Massy and local beyond, each every 15 minutes; at peak, the S is as before, the K skips one stop, there’s an L pattern skipping stops and running local from Massy to Orsay, and the P runs the fastest and is express to Orsay and only local past that, each every 12 minutes.

StationRidershipSP (base)K (rush)L (rush)P (rush)
Cité-U7,531,642*****
Gentilly2,415,990 ****
Laplace3,707,718****
Arcueil-Cachan3,634,116****
Bagneux2,241,461****
Bourg-la-Reine4,446,499*****
Parc de Sceaux574,699*
La Croix de Berny3,161,602****
Antony6,304,424****
Fontaine-Michalon731,635*
Les Baconnets1,860,108 **
Massy-Verrières607,314*
Massy-Palaiseau9,141,486****

There are no overtake locations on the RER B; because of this, the shared trunk to Bourg-la-Reine has to run local at rush hour. The express patterns still run on a regular clockface schedule every 12 minutes at rush hour and every 15 off-peak, but they aren’t neat, due to the density of traffic. The stations that always get served are the busiest ones – Bourg-la-Reine, La Croix de Berny, Antony, Massy – and are an order of magnitude busier than the stations that get skipped the most. This is not an artifact of service – at the distance of those stations from Paris, a train every 12 or 15 minutes is enough for ridership not to depend too much on frequency. There really is much higher demand at Bourg-la-Reine and Massy than at the minor stations.

In contrast, here is ridership per station between Boston Landing and Framingham, on weekdays:

Boston Landing: 479
Newtonville: 429
West Newton: 243
Auburndale: 203
Wellesley Farms: 285
Wellesley Hills: 322
Wellesley Square: 591
Natick: 697
West Natick: 914
Framingham: 995

So, the first thing to notice is that Framingham, the busiest station, has 995 weekday boardings, which is maybe 290,000 per year, which would be by far the least busy on the RER B (the least busy on the entire RATP-run part of the RER is La Hacquinière, on the outer tail of the RER B, with 419,294/year). But also, the spread is much smaller than on the RER B, a factor of about 5 rather than 16. The spread in potential demand is actually larger, since Auburndale and West Newton are close enough to Boston that the hourly frequencies hurt a lot, whereas Framingham and West Natick both are farther away and get much more rush-hour frequency at any case.

A line like the Worcester Line should only even be running express trains in the first place to speed up some outer-zone trips, and with the expectation that Framingham could develop to something bigger. But that brings in the issue of land use in American suburbs.

Land use and commuter rail ridership

I encourage people to compare land use near American and Parisian commuter rail stations. Here is Bourg-la-Reine:

And here is Massy:

These are town centers. Massy is a postwar suburb developed around the train station, with town center development near the station and plenty of later urban renewal as the area got a TGV station. There’s visibly more stuff near Massy or Bourg-la-Reine than near the minor stations on the RER B, in the same way there is more stuff near a major transfer point on most subways than near a station on one line on a tail. They anchor express service.

The land use near American commuter rail stations works differently. It is lower-density, of course, but more importantly, it is uniformly low-density. Density isn’t especially oriented near the train stations. Occasionally there is walkable retail from the train, but it’s not consistent, and there are no clusters of mid-rise buildings with retail and some local office jobs. American suburbanization of residences may follow the train, with gray near the lines and green between them, but suburbanization of jobs never does, instead following highways.

In this context, there’s no real distinguishing feature that allows some stations to get more express service than others. Riders get to the station by car; the fares and schedules don’t allow for integration with suburban buses, and there is no reason for anyone in these suburbs to rely on bikes when all local destinations are auto-centric. The car has a fairly long range within suburbia, and thus riders drive to a better park-and-ride or kiss-and-ride; the busiest suburban American train station, Ronkonkoma, with around 10,000 weekday riders pre-corona, is a parking lot with practically nothing else near it.

What this means is that express trains often generate their own demand, as passengers start driving to them, neglecting other stations. It creates a fiction of lopsided demand with similar ratios between busier and less busy stations as on the RER B, with no underlying reason for it; the Worcester Line has no such ratio, but the LIRR Main Line does, largely due to the park-and-ride effect. Once planners accept that everyone needs an express trains, schedules evolve to be ever more irregular and less reliable, in the search of the perfect express. Caltrain even came up with the push model, in which the scheduler’s job is to push passengers to park-and-rides with open spots, and otherwise there would be no reason to run trains other than the fastest express trains.

This, in turn, guarantees bad service – these irregular patterns repel riders who are not city-bound commuters, and the frequency is never good enough to sustain such patterns off-peak. In the most extreme cases, it can even backfire: the LIRR’s split between Grand Central and Penn Station frequencies has made it so that so far, the East Side Access project has generated zero new ridership. It’s sometimes possible to salvage something: in the case of Framingham and Worcester, both cities have skeletons of bus networks, and coordinated planning could ensure that the buses would be timed with the train and have free transfers. But at most stations, it’s pointless to try to turn them into distinguished nodes beyond the usual for a local train station.

The upshot is that the only way to run coherent timetables is to focus on local trains. Express trains are for express stops, and few places in the suburban United States are worth the effort; Framingham and Worcester are two of those few because of their town center development, but nothing else on the line is.

In that sense, when I harp on the need for high platforms and electrification, it’s not just because these are good practices in and of themselves, but also because they’re necessary for making local service work. Otherwise, the stop penalty kills you: Boston-Worcester is 1:38 on all-local off-peak trains today, which is an average speed of 43 km/h. And nothing except local stretches works in the context of continuous, isotropic suburban density.

The Northeast Corridor Rail Grants

The US government has just announced a large slate of grants to rail from the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law. Amtrak has a breakdown of projects both for itself and partners, totaling $16.4 billion. There are a few good things there, like Delco Lead, or more significantly more money for the Hudson Tunnel Project (already funded separately, but this covers money the states would otherwise be expected to fund). There are also conspicuously missing items that should stay missing – But by overall budget, most of the grant is pretty bad, covering projects that are in principle good but far too expensive per minute saved.

This has implications to the future of the Northeast Corridor, because the total amount of money for it is $30 billion; I believe this includes Amtrak plus commuter rail agencies. Half of the money is gone already, and some key elements remain unfunded, some of which are still on agency wishlists like Hunter Flyover but others of which are still not, like Shell Interlocking. It’s still possible to cobble together the remaining $13.6 billion to produce something good, but there have to be some compromises – and, more importantly, the process that produced the grant so far doesn’t fill me with confidence about the rest of the money.

The Baltimore tunnel

The biggest single item in the grant is the replacement tunnel for the Baltimore and Potomac Tunnel. The B&P was built compromised from the start, with atypically tight curves and steep grades for the era. An FRA report on its replacement from 2011 goes over the history of the project, originally dubbed the Great Circle Passenger Tunnel when first proposed in the 1970s; the 2011 report estimates the cost at $773 million in 2010 prices (PDF-p. 229), and the benefits at a two-minute time saving (PDF-p. 123) plus easier long-term maintenance, as the B&P has water leakage in addition to its geometric problems. At the time, the consensus of Northeastern railfans treated it as a beneficial and even necessary component of Northeast Corridor modernization, and the agencies kept working on it.

Since then, the project’s scope crept from two passenger tracks to four tracks with enough space for double-stacked freight and mechanical ventilation for diesel locomotives. The cost jumped to $4 billion, then $6 billion. The extra scope was removed to save money, said to be $1 billion, but the headline cost remained $6 billion (possibly due to inflation, as American government budgeting is done in current dollars, never constant dollars, creating a lot of fictional cost overruns). The FRA grant is for $4.7 billion out of $6 billion. Meanwhile, the environmental impact statements upped the trip time benefit of the tunnel for Amtrak from two to 2.5 minutes; this is understandable in light of either higher-speed (and higher-cost) redesign or an assumption of better rolling stock than in the 2011 report, higher-acceleration trains losing more time to speed restrictions near stations than lower-acceleration ones.

That this tunnel would be funded was telegraphed well in advance. The tunnel was named after abolitionist hero Frederick Douglass; I’m not aware of any intercity or commuter rail tunnel elsewhere in the developed world that gets such a name, and the choice to name it so about a year ago was a commitment. It’s not a bad project: the maintenance cost savings are real, as is the 2.5 minute improvement in trip time. But 2.5 minutes are not worth $6 billion, or even $6 billion net of maintenance. In 2023 dollars, the estimate from 2011 is $1.1 billion, which I think is fine on the margin – there are lower-hanging fruit out there, but the tunnel doesn’t compete with the lowest-hanging fruit but with the $29 billion-hanging fruit and it should be very competitive there. But when costs explode this much, there are other things that could be done better.

Bridge replacements

The Northeast Corridor is full of movable bridges, which are wishlisted for replacement with high fixed spans. The benefits of those replacements are there, mainly in maintenance costs (but see below on the Connecticut River), but that does not justify the multi-billion dollar budgets of many of them. The Susquehanna River Rail Bridge, the biggest grant in this section, is $2.08 billion in federal funding; the environmental impact study said that in 2015 dollars it was $930 million. The benefits in the EIS include lower maintenance costs, but those are not quantified, even in places where other elements (like the area’s demographics) are.

Like all state of good repair projects, this is spending for its own sake. There are no clear promises the way there are with the Douglass Tunnel, which promises to have a new tunnel with trip time benefits, small as they are. Nobody can know if these bridge replacement projects achieved any of their goals; there are no clear claims about maintenance costs with or without this, nor is there any concerted plan to improve maintenance productivity in general.

The East River Tunnel project, while not a bridge nor a visible replacement, has the same problem. The benefits are not made clear anywhere. There are some documents we found in the ETA commuter rail report saying that high-density signaling would allow increasing peak capacity on one of the two tunnel pairs from 20 to 24 trains per hour, but that’s a small minority of the overall project and in the description it’s an item within an item.

The one exception in this section is the Connecticut River. This bridge replacement has a much clearer benefit – but also is a down payment on the wrong choice. The issue is that pleasure boat traffic has priority over the railroad on the “who came first” principle; by agreement with the Coast Guard, there is a limited number of daily windows for Amtrak to run its trains, which work out to about an Acela and a Regional every hour in each direction. Replacing this bridge, unlike the others, would have a visible benefit: more trains could run (once new rolling stock comes in, but that’s already in production).

Unfortunately, the trains would be running on the curviest and also most easily bypassable section of the Northeast Corridor. The average speed on the New Haven-Kingston section of the Northeast Corridor is low, if not so low on the less curvy but commuter rail-primary New Haven Line farther west. The curves already have high superelevation and the Acelas tilt through them fully; there’s not much more that can be done to increase speed, save to bypass this entire section. Fortunately, a bypass parallel to I-95 is feasible here – there isn’t as much suburban development as west of New Haven, where there are many commuters to New York. Partial bypasses have been studied before, bypassing both the worst curves on this section and all movable bridges, including that on the Connecticut. To replace this bridge in place is a down payment on, in effect, not building genuine high-speed rail where it is most useful.

Other items

Some other items on the list are not so bad. The second largest item in the grant, $3.79 billion, is increasing the federal contribution to the Hudson Tunnel Project from about 50% to about 70%. I have questions about why it’s necessary – it looks like it’s covering a cost overrun – but it’s not terrible, and by cost it’s by far the biggest reasonable item in this grant.

Beyond that, there are some small projects that are fine, like Delco Lead, part of a program by New Jersey Transit to invest around New Brunswick and Jersey Avenue to create more yard space where it belongs, at the end of where local trains run (and not near city center, where land is expensive).

What’s not (yet) funded

Overall, around 25% of this grant is fine. But there are serious gaps – not only are the bridge replacements and the Douglass Tunnel not the best use of money, but also some important projects providing both reliability and speed are missing. The two most complex flat junctions of the Northeast Corridor near New York, Hunter in New Jersey and Shell in New Rochelle, are missing (and Hunter is on the New Jersey Transit wishlist); Hunter is estimated at $300 million and would make it much more straightforward to timetable Northeast Corridor commuter and intercity trains together, and Shell would likely cost the same and also facilitate the same for Penn Station Access. The Hartford Line is getting investment into double track, but no electrification, which American railroads keep underrating.

We Gave a Talk About New York Commuter Rail Modernization

Blair Lorenzo and I gave the talk yesterday, as advertised. The slide deck was much more in her style than in mine – more pictures, fewer words – so it may not be exactly clear what we said.

Beyond the written report itself (now up in web form, not just a PDF), we talked about some low-hanging fruit. What we’re asking for is not a lot of money – the total capital cost of electrification and high platforms everywhere and the surface bottlenecks we talk about like Hunter Junction is around $6 billion, of which $800 million for Portal Bridge need to happen regardless of anything else; Penn Reconstruction is $7 billion and the eminently cancelable Penn Expansion is $17 billion. However, it is a lot of coordination, of different agencies, of capital and operations, and so on. So it’s useful to talk about how to, in a way, fail gracefully – that is, how to propose something that, if it’s reduced to a pilot program, will still be useful.

The absolute wrong thing to do in a pilot program situation is to just do small things all over, like adding a few midday trains. That would achieve little. There is already alternation between hourly and half-hourly commuter trains in most of the New York region; this doesn’t do much when the subway or a subway + suburban bus combination runs every 10-12 minutes (and should be running every six). The same can be said for CityTicket, which incrementally reduces fares on commuter rail within New York City but doesn’t integrate fares with the subway and therefore produces little ridership increase.

Instead, the right thing to do is focus on one strong corridor. We propose this for phase 1, turning New Brunswick-Stamford or New Brunswick-New Rochelle into a through-line running every 10 minutes all day, as soon as Penn Station Access opens. But there are other alternatives that I think fall into the low-hanging fruit category.

One is the junction fixes, like Hunter as mentioned above (estimated at $300 million), or similar-complexity Shell in New Rochelle, which is most likely necessary for any decent intercity rail upgrade on the Northeast Corridor. It costs money, but not a lot of it by the standards of what’s being funded through federal grants, including BIL money for the Northeast Corridor, which is relevant to both Hunter and Shell.

The other is Queens bus redesign. I hope that as our program at Marron grows, we’ll be able to work on a Queens bus redesign that assumes that it’s possible to connect to the LIRR with fare integration and high frequency; buses would not need to all divert to Flushing or Jamaica, but could run straight north-south, leaving the east-west Manhattan-bound traffic to faster, more efficient trains.

I’m Giving a Talk in New York About Commuter Rail

At the Effective Transit Alliance, we’re about to unveil a report explaining how to modernize New York’s commuter rail system (update 10-31: see link to PDF here). The individual elements should not surprise regular readers of this blog, but we go into more detail about things I haven’t written before about peakiness, and combine everything together to propose some early action items.

To that effect, we will present this in person on Wednesday November 1st, at 1 pm. The event will take place at Marron, in Room 1201 of 370 Jay Street; due to NYU access control, signing up is mandatory using this form, but it can be done anytime until the morning of (or even later, but security will be grumpy). At the minimum, Blair Lorenzo and I will talk about commuter rail and what to do to improve it and take questions from the audience; we intend to be there for two hours, but people can break afterward and still talk, potentially.

Conspiracies and 15-Minute Cities

The ongoing conspiracy theories about 15-minute cities make me think about the issue of conspiracies and extremism more in general. The difference between what the conspiracy theories say and what the actual program is is vast. This is true even when there is lively critique of the program by non-conspiracists, critique that the conspiracists seem unaware of, or at best indifferent to. This set of facts about conspiracists – they are wrong even when the things they oppose happen to have serious problems; they are uninterestingly wrong; they do not cooperate with serious critics and often react violently against them – is general.

It’s relevant here for two reasons. First, because there’s a growing amount of anti-environmental and anti-public transport extremism, in which the possession of a large, polluting car is treated as an identity market. Such extremism never seriously interacts with any real critique of public transport construction programs or any kind of critique of urbanism. And second, because I have a lot of readers who come from a rationalist or Effective Altruism background and like doing what they call steelmanning: finding the strongest argument someone could make for a stance even if they didn’t make it, and arguing with that. I beseech my rationalist readers: please stop steelmanning – if extremists refuse to engage with any serious critique even when it argues against the same thing they argue against, it’s not to their credit and you should make inferences from that instead of acting as their lawyers.

But first, what are 15-minute cities and what’s the conspiracy theory?

15-minute cities

For some background, there is a trend in the urbanist world of calling for urbanism that enables people to make all their regular travel needs – retail, recreation, child care, social spaces, work – within a 15-minute travel radius by public or non-motorized transportation. Some versions of this vision drop work from these needs, due to the realization that people in cities travel 30-60 minutes each way to work and not 15. Parisian urban politics tends to believe in this vision, with work included: the city tries to spread work places around the city as isotropically as possible, creating jobs in residential neighborhoods rather than in city center; when I critique the vision, I usually focus on its implementation there, since the city’s political leadership adheres to it, and global adherents of the model generally think highly of Paris and of Mayor Anne Hidalgo.

The conspiracy theory is that it’s really a conspiracy to confine people into a 15-minute radius and prevent them from traveling further.

This conspiracy theory is not just the usual opposition to transit-first or pedestrian- and bike-first cities from drivers. Drivers who oppose bike lanes and prioritization of public transport and resent cities that don’t expand highways speak of a war on cars. The conspiracy theorists who think 15-minute cities are a confinement attempt love cars and love driving, as an anti-environmental identity marker, but care little about highway expansion; they think they’re being literally imprisoned and spied on.

There is an extensive critique of 15-minute cities from within the world of urbanism. I’ve long complained that it’s a consumption-centric model of urbanism; I think little of Hidalgo. I’m fairly neoliberal about the primacy of work over consumption, but Marco Chitti, who isn’t, points out that these 15-minute cities exist by the grace of service workers who commute in from elsewhere taking far longer than 15 minutes to get to work. Paris itself has long been critiqued for its museumification.

And none of the conspiracy theories about 15-minute cities comes close to touching any of the serious critiques. The critique that 15-minute cities center consumption over production is a YIMBY line, YIMBYs generally backing production theory in which people choose where to live based on access to jobs, not consumption amenities. But the conspiracy theorists tilt NIMBY, viewing developers as part of the conspiracy to make their lives worse (by making it easier for other people to live nearby); the conspiracy theorists who want to be more developmental and have heard of YIMBY are busy complaining that YIMBYs don’t back developing more single-family housing on the fringes of urban areas.

Likewise, the more social critique of Marco and others talks about inequality. The conspiracy theorists once again don’t care about any of this. They identify in opposition to anything that reeks of socialism. (There are of course far left conspiracy theorists, but these aren’t the ones saying that 15-minute cities are about confinement.) They hate the state and, for all of their hate of the idea of government by lawsuit, they hate the idea of government by bureaucrats more; one of them told me that the concept of an ambitious civil servant is scary and it’s good to force civil servants to keep their heads down.

I bring up the notions of social equality, the state, and upzoning to point out that the solutions to the real problems of Paris today are the exact opposite of what the conspiracy theorists who think 15-minute cities are confinement want. There’s no point in discussing those real problems around extremists, because the extremists at best don’t care, and at worst negatively care.

Other examples

The example above of how conspiracy theories about 15-minute cities have nothing to do with the real problems of that kind of urbanism, and there isn’t even a kernel of truth, generalizes outside urbanism and transportation. Much of it concerns anti-vaccination extremism, but there are other cases.

For example, there have been Jihadist conspiracy theories that vaccination is a Western plot to sterilize Muslim men. Based on that theory, Jihadists have attacked vaccination drives in Pakistan, murdering aid workers. Far too many organs steelman those theories, arguing that they were a natural byproduct of CIA meddling, citing in some cases a fake vaccination drive set up by the CIA to harvest people’s DNA. The truth is that, first of all, it was a real vaccination drive, in which a single doctor was trying to send over DNA to find Osama bin Laden (and didn’t). But second and more importantly, this anti-vaccination sentiment predates this episode, going back to the mid-2000s. The primary grievance the Jihadists have about vaccines did not mention anything about the CIA harvesting DNA; the Jihadists appeared completely unaware, having developed their theories completely independently.

For another example, in 1980s Germany, there was a public dispute over how to commemorate the Nazis, called the Historikerstreit. Historians on the right, like Ernst Nolte, charged that Germany ought to be prouder of its past, that Hitler was just concerned about the crimes of communism, that the Holocaust was just an overreaction to the gulags; right-wing publications like FAZ published Nolte’s popular writings on this. To Nolte and others, the anti-Semitism was just an unfortunate byproduct of how many Jews were communists. The right lost that debate; historians on the left, like Eberhard Jäckel, pointed out that Hitler in fact underestimated the Soviet Union because he thought Jews and Bolshevism were weak. The rat cage torture, which Nolte said Hitler was most concerned about, appeared nowhere in Mein Kampf, whereas anti-Semitic conspiracy theories did; the only quote from Hitler about it is ambiguous and from 1943. Moreover, far from centering communism as the great evil, Hitler also called capitalism a Jewish conspiracy to produce social alienation. Nolte was in effect steelmanning the Nazis, inventing an argument that they were not interested in to distract from what they were interested in and what they did.

Setting Speed Zones

At the Boston meetup two days ago, I was asked about what tools I use to generate timetables, for example for my New York commuter rail posts. The answer is that I use speed zones and then run this code on them – but then the question is how to figure out speed zones. I hope that this sequence of steps will help advocates who are interested in rail modernization.

Generating curve radii

The most difficult element to fix on mainline rail is the right-of-way geometry. Most other things that can restrict a train’s speed can be fixed with more modern maintenance, but right-of-way geometry doesn’t change without physical construction, often in constrained areas – if they weren’t constrained, the curves would have been built wider in the first place.

The best case scenario is that there exist track maps with exact curve radii. I have these for large chunks of the Northeast Corridor, but not all. For example, here is Metro-North (with thanks to The Korot). Curves on such maps are denoted as circles or bumps deviating from a line, with the direction of the circle indicating the direction of the curve’s curvature. On this and other American maps, the radius is listed in degrees, and the cant (see the section below) in inches.

To convert the radius from degrees to more usual units, set one degree to be 1,746 meters, and note that degrees measure curvature and not radius, so a two degree curve has half the radius of a one degree curve. More precisely, the formula is that degrees measure the change in azimuth over 100 feet; 100 feet are 30.48 meters, and converting 30.48 from degrees to radians gives 1,746.37536… meters.

For example, on the Metro-North chart, let’s look at Harrison, New York. It’s on PDF-p. 24 of the chart; Harrison is sandwiched between two curves with opposite orientations, with the platforms on tangent (uncurved) track. The curve just west of Harrison has radius 1° 58′ 30″, which is 884.24069… meters; the curve just east has radius 2° 2′ 15″, which is 857.11674… meters.

Converting curve radii to speeds

The formula for the speed of a train, in SI units, is

\mbox{speed}^{2} = \mbox{radius} \times \mbox{lateral acceleration}

I wrote about lateral acceleration, cant, and cant deficiency two and a half years ago. In short, lateral acceleration, in m/s^2, is the centrifugal force coming from the action of the train rounding the curve at speed. For the purposes of the formula, it is measured in the horizontal plane. To reduce the centrifugal force felt by the passengers (for comfort and safety) as well as that felt by the train body (for safety and maintenance costs), the tracks will typically be banked so that the inner rail is lower than the outer rail, which is called cant or superelevation, and is written in units of distance, such as mm or inches.

The speed of a train on canted track is typically higher than the perfect balancing speed, where the force of gravity counteracts that of centrifugal force; thus, on a fast train there is a residual force pointing to the outside of the train, which can be written down as lateral acceleration in the plane of the tracks (in m/s^2), but is more typically written down in the same units as superelevation, representing the additional superelevation required for the speed to perfectly balance, which is called cant deficiency or underbalance.

The conversion rate between cant (or cant deficiency) is the track gauge measured between the middle of the two rails, divided by the gravitational constant (9.8 m/s^2). Track gauge is typically given as inner rail to inner rail; standard gauge is 1,435 mm inner rail to inner rail. The relevant quantity to superelevation calculations is a few cm more; on standard gauge, it’s taken to be about 1,470-1,500 mm, so the conversion rate is 1 m/s^2 = 150 mm of cant or cant deficiency. The two quantities, cant and cant deficiency, are additive.

The American track charts that I have specify the actual cant. However, the values tend to be too conservative. Again with the example of Harrison, the slightly wider western curve has 5″ cant and the slightly tighter eastern curve has 4.125″ cant. Regulations for maximum cant depend on the country and maintenance standards. The absolute maximum cant I am aware of on any standard-gauge railway is 200 mm on the Tokaido and Tohoku Shinkansen. The reasons not to raise cant further include maintenance difficulties and the risk of a train running at lower speed or even stopping on the track. On lines that are not captive to just high-speed trains, the highest cant I am aware of is 180 mm, in Germany, and this is rare; 160 mm is more common. The American limit is 7″, but frequent inspections are required at that point to ensure that the tracks don’t get bent out of shape to produce higher cant; 8″ is a do-not-exceed level, and in practice track irregularities may lead to exceeding it if there isn’t regular track maintenance.

In practice, raising the cant is usually easy – it can be done with a track geometry machine automatically. However, in one case, it is not: that of S-curves, which have exactly the shape implied by the letter S. Our example of Harrison has two reverse curves in close proximity, but is not an S-curve, as there are hundreds of meters of tangent track between the two curves. Other places do have S-curves, and there, the maximum cant must be lowered somewhat; regulations vary on this, but in Europe, the maximum change in cant is 30-55 mm per second depending on the country (there’s a secondary regulation on mm per meter, but on the Northeast Corridor, the binding rule is mm/s, not mm/m). For example, if we take 45 mm/s, and 180 mm of cant, then it takes four seconds to reverse a curve; note that it is four and not eight, because half of the increase in cant, called a superelevation spiral, is within the curve. Harrison’s current curves impose a hard limit of about 150 km/h, at which point the hundreds of meters of tangent track make it trivially easy to have full superelevation. However, other places, most infamously among Northeastern railfans Elizabeth, there is an actual S-curve, forcing lower cant and lower speeds.

Finally, the maximum cant deficiency depends on the track, the train, and the regulations. Traditionally, American regulations limited most passenger trains to 3″ of cant deficiency, which is ridiculously conservative; in the 2000s, a waiver allowing 5″ in some cases was derided as the “magic high-speed rail waiver” because it applied not just to higher-speed tracks but also to lower-speed lines that had through-service to higher-speed tracks. Since then, FRA regulations have changed, and now the practical limit in the US, with extensive testing, is 6″, or 150 mm cant deficiency, at most speeds. European limits tend to be around 130-150 mm; high-speed trains are at the lower end of this range unless they are tilting trains, which nearly all trains are not. Cant deficiency, like cant, requires its own superelevation spiral on S-curves, but the limits are in practice looser than for cant, and in some cases trains can change superelevation abruptly, with no spiral, for example on switches.

The upshot is that in the typical case, the most aggressive assumption should be 180 mm cant, 150 mm cant deficiency, for a lateral acceleration in the horizontal plane of 2.2 m/s^2. Most lines will not have this pair of aggressive assumptions: 180 mm is only viable when it’s guaranteed that trains will not stop on a canted curve, which is a reasonable assumption on a reliable high-speed line and even on a German high-speed line. Moreover, if there is any freight on the line, superelevation must fall drastically: slower trains would be at cant excess, and freight trains have high center of mass (diesel locomotives and double-stacked containers both have higher center of mass than electric passenger trains) and therefore have tight cant excess limits. Aggressive assumptions are viable on the Northeast Corridor and on controllable commuter lines with no or almost no freight, such as the LIRR, but not everywhere else.

Finding curve radii

In some cases, curve radii are spelled out in a chart. In others, they are not, and must be figured out. Our program’s schedule writer, Devin Wilkins, tells me she has just found a track chart for SEPTA, but otherwise, I have no such charts south of New York. There, the dirty, imperfect method of estimating curve radii must be used.

For that, I use Google Earth. Nowadays, Google Earth Pro is free, and comes with a circle tool. In theory, I can fidget with the radius of a circle until I find that it approximates the arc of a curve well. This requires paying special attention to how the drawn curve compares with not just the broad outline of the curve but also the exact arc of each track or even each rail: the drawn curve should be at the same relative position to the rails, such as following one rail of one track, or right in the center of one track, or right between the track centers, and so on.

In cases of uncertainty, it’s also possible to use Google Earth line tools, which state the azimuth of each line. If I can find the exact start and end points of each curve, and the azimuths of the tangents on both side, then I can draw the chord with a line tool, verifying that its azimuth is the exact arithmetic mean of the azimuths of the two tangents; if it is not the mean, then either I made an error (more likely) or the curve is not a perfect circle (possible but less likely). The radius of the curve is approximately the length of the chord times 180/pi divided by change in azimuth; more precisely, the radius is

\mbox{chord length}/(2 \times \arcsin(\mbox{difference in azimuth})/2).

This method is error-prone, especially for short, sharp curves. Computing the start and end points of the curve will always have errors, and if the change in azimuth is small, then these will lead to large errors. The circle tool method suffers from the same drawback: it’s easier to use it to estimate the radius of a curve with 60 degree change in azimuth than that of one with 10 degree change.

Over time I’ve gotten this method down to the point that my errors from what I later find with track charts such as that of Metro-North are fairly small, and not very biased in the larger-radius direction. But it takes time and practice and ideally you should avoid it for short, sharp curves.

Update 10-28: Ari Ofsevit has a third method, using chord lines.

Other speed limits

Speed limits on intercity trains mostly come from curves. But there are other things to keep in mind, not all of which are fixable:

  • Tunnels increase air resistance to the point that unless the tunnels are constructed with large enough radius to have a lot of free air (modern tunnels are, legacy ones aren’t), or unless the trains are pressurized, the speed limit has to be lower just to avoid popping passengers’ ears at entry and exit.
  • Switches generally have low speed limits – they have tight curves and no superelevation – making all complex junctions and major stations slow.
  • Terminal stations have another set of speed limits coming from the bumper tracks. American limits are very conservative – 10 mph where a ramp down from 40 or 50 km/h is more normal in Europe – but even 50 km/h is not 200 km/h.
  • Some pieces of infrastructure are so shoddy that they limit the dynamical axle load of the train, which is derived from both static axle load, which is a function of train mass, and speed. As usual, American limits on this are conservative, assuming high static axle load and fixing a low speed on some very old bridges, instead of permitting lighter trains to run faster. But it is sometimes a real problem.

Boston Meetup and Consultants Supervising Consultants

The meetup was a lot less formal than expected; people who showed up included loyal blog readers (thank you for reading and showing up!), social media followers (same), and some people involved in politics or the industry. I don’t have any presentation to show – I talked a bit about the TransitMatters Regional Rail program and then people asked questions. Rather, I want to talk about something I’ve said on social media but not here, which I delivered a long rant about to the last people who stayed there.

The issue at hand is that the only way that seems to work to deliver complex infrastructure projects is with close in-house supervision. This is true even in places where the public-sector supervisors, frankly, suck – which they frequently do in the United States. It’s fine to outsource some capabilities to consultants, but if it happens, then the supervision must remain in the public sector, which requires hiring more in-house people, at competitive salaries.

Why?

The reason is that public-sector projects always involve some public-sector elements. This is true even in the emergent norm in the English-speaking world and in many other countries that take cues from it, in which not only is most work done by consultants, but also the consultants are usually supervised by other consultants. The remains of the public sector think they’re committed to light-touch supervision, but because they, by their own admission, don’t know how to do things themselves or even how to supervise consultants, they do a bad job at it.

The most dreaded request is “study everything.” It’s so easy to just add more scenarios, more possibilities, more caveats. It’s the bane of collaborative documents (ask me how I know). In the Northeast Corridor timetabling project I’m doing with Devin Wilkins, I could study everything and look at every possible scenario, with respect to electrification, which projects are undertaken, rolling stock performance profile, and so on. It would not be doable with just me and her in a year or so; I would need to hire a larger team and take several years, and probably break it down so that one person just does Boston, another just does Philadelphia, a third just does Washington and Baltimore, several do New York (by far the hardest case), and one (or more) assists me in stapling everything together. The result might be better than what we’re doing now, thanks to the greater detail; or it might be worse, due to slight inconsistencies between different people’s workflows, in which case a dedicated office manager would be needed to sort this out, at additional expense. But at least I’d study everything.

Because I’m doing this project for Marron and not for an American public-sector client, I can prune the search tree, and do it at relatively reasonable expense. That’s partly because I’m the lead, but also partly because I know what I’m doing, to an extent, and am not going to tell anyone “study everything” and then dismiss most scenarios after three months of no contact.

The behavior I’m contrasting myself with is, unfortunately, rife in the American public sector. And it’s the most common among exactly the set of very senior bureaucrats, often (not always) ones who are there by virtue of political appointment rather than the civil service process, who swear that consultants do things better than the public sector. There’s no real supervision, and no real narrowing of the process. This looks like an alternative to micromanagement, but is not, because the client at the end does say “no, not like this”; there’s a reason the consultants always feel the need to study everything rather than picking just a few alternatives and hoping the client trusts them to do it right.

It’s telling that the consultants and contractors we speak to don’t really seem happy with how they’re treated by the public-sector client in those situations. They’re happy when interfacing with other private actors, usually. I imagine that if I hired a larger team (which we don’t have the budget for) and gave each person a separate task, they’d be really happy to have come up with all those different scenarios for how to run trains in the Baltimore-Washington area, interfacing with other equally dedicated people doing other tasks of this size. When consultants are supervised by other consultants, only the top-level consultant interfaces with the remains of the civil service, hollowed out by hiring freezes, uncompetitive salaries, and political scourging; the others don’t and think things work really smoothly. This, I think, is why opaque design-build setups are so popular with the private consultants who are involved in them: by the time a country or region fully privatizes its supervision to a design-build consultant, its public sector has been hollowed so much that the consultants prefer to be supervised privately, even if the results are worse.

In contrast, the only way forward is a bigger civil service. This means hiring more people, in-house, and paying them on a par with what they would be earning in the private sector given their experience. As I said at the bar a few hours ago, I’m imagining someone whose CV is four years at the MTA, then five at a consultant, then four at the MBTA, and then six at a consultant; with these 19 years of experience, they could get hired at a senior engineer or project manager position, for which the market rate in Boston as I understand is in the high $100,000s. For some things, like commuter rail electrification, there are unlikely to be any suitable candidates from within the US, and so agencies would have to hire a European or Asian engineer.

With competitive salaries, people would move between different employers in the same industry, as is normal in American and European industries. They could move between public and private employers, because the wages and benefits should be similar. They’d pick up experience. An agency like the MBTA, with its five to six in-house design review engineers, could staff up appropriately to be able to supervise not just small projects like infill commuter rail station, which it built at reasonable cost on the Fairmount Line, but also large ones like the Green Line Extension and South Coast Rail, which it builds at outrageously high costs.

I’m Giving a Talk About Regional Rail in Boston

I haven’t been as active here lately; I think people know why and ask that you find other things to comment on.

I’m in Boston this week (and in New York next week), meeting with friends and TransitMatters people; in particular, I’m giving a talk at the Elephant and Castle on Wednesday at 6 pm to discuss regional rail and related reforms for Boston:

What I keep finding on these trips is that public transportation in the US is always worse than I remember. In Boston, I had a short wait on the Red Line from South Station to where I’m staying in Cambridge, but the next train was 13 minutes afterward, midday on a weekday. The trip from South Station to Porter Square took 24 minutes over a distance of 7.7 km covering seven stops; TransitMatters has a slow zone dashboard, there are so many. A line segment with an interstation a little longer than a kilometer has a lower average speed than any Paris Métro line, even those with 400 meter interstations; in Berlin, which averages 780 meters, the average speed is 30 km/h.

In New York, the frequency is okay, but there’s a new distraction: subway announcements now say “we have over 100 accessible stations,” giving no information except advertising that the MTA hates disabled people and thinks that only 30% of the system should be accessible to wheelchair users. There are still billboards on the subway advertising OMNY, a strictly inferior way of paying for the system than the older prepaid cards – it’s a weekly cap at the same rate as the unlimited weekly, but it’s only available Monday to Sunday rather than in any seven-day period (update 10-24: I’m told it’s fixed and now it’s exactly the same product as prepaying if you know you’ll hit the cap), and the monthly fare is still just a bit cheaper than getting weeklies or weekly caps.

The MTA 20 Year Needs Assessment Reminds Us They Can’t Build

The much-anticipated 20 Year Needs Assessment was released 2.5 days ago. It’s embarrassingly bad, and the reason is that the MTA can’t build, and is run by people who even by Northeastern US standards – not just other metro areas but also New Jersey – can’t build and propose reforms that make it even harder to build.

I see people discuss the slate of expansion projects in the assessment – things like Empire Connection restoration, a subway under Utica, extensions of Second Avenue Subway, and various infill stations. On the surface of it, the list of expansion projects is decent; there are quibbles, but in theory it’s not a bad list. But in practice, it’s not intended seriously. The best way to describe this list is if the average poster on a crayon forum got free reins to design something on the fly and then an NGO with a large budget made it into a glossy presentation. The costs are insane, for example $2.5 billion for an elevated extension of the 3 to Spring Creek of about 1.5 km (good idea, horrific cost), and $15.9 billion for a 6.8 km Utica subway (see maps here); this is in 2027 dollars, but the inescapable conclusion here is that the MTA thinks that to build an elevated extension in East New York should cost almost as much as it did to build a subway in Manhattan, where it used the density and complexity of the terrain as an argument for why things cost as much as they did.

To make sure people don’t say “well, $16 billion is a lot but Utica is worth it,” the report also lowballs the benefits in some places. Utica is presented as having three alternatives: subway, BRT, and subway part of the way and BRT the rest of the way; the subway alternative has the lowest projected ridership of the three, estimated at 55,600 riders/weekday, not many more than ride the bus today, and fewer than ride the combination of all three buses in the area today (B46 on Utica, B44 on Nostrand, B41 on Flatbush). For comparison, where the M15 on First and Second Avenues had about 50,000 weekday trips before Second Avenue Subway opened, the two-way ridership at the three new stations plus the increase in ridership at 63rd Street was 160,000 on the eve of corona, and that’s over just a quarter of the route; the projection for the phase that opened is 200,000 (and is likely to be achieved if the system gets back to pre-corona ridership), and that for the entire route from Harlem to Lower Manhattan is 560,000. On a more reasonable estimate, based on bus ridership and gains from faster speeds and saving the subway transfer, Utica should get around twice the ridership of the buses and so should Nostrand (not included in the plan), on the order of 150,000 and 100,000 respectively.

Nothing there is truly designed to optimize how to improve in a place that can’t build. London can’t build either, even if its costs are a fraction of New York’s (which fraction seems to be falling since New York’s costs seem to be rising faster); to compensate, TfL has run some very good operations, squeezing 36 trains per hour out of some of its lines, and making plans to invest in signaling and route design to allow similar throughput levels on other lines. The 20 Year Needs Assessment mentions signaling, but doesn’t at all promise any higher throughput, and instead talks about state of good repair: if it fails to improve throughput much, there’s no paper trail that they ever promised more than mid-20s trains per hour; the L’s Communications-Based Train Control (CBTC) signals permit 26 tph in theory but electrical capacity limits the line to 20, and the 7 still runs about 24 peak tph. London reacted to its inability to build by, in effect, operating so well that each line can do the work of 1.5 lines in New York; New York has little interest.

The things in there that the MTA does intend to build are slow in ways that cross the line from an embarrassment to an atrocity. There’s an ongoing investment plan in elevator accessibility on the subway. The assessment trumpets that “90% of ridership” will be at accessible stations in 2045, and 95% of stations (not weighted by ridership) will be accessible by 2055. Berlin has a two years older subway network than New York; here, 146 out of 175 stations have an elevator or ramp, for which the media has attacked the agency for its slow rollout of systemwide accessibility, after promises to retrofit the entire system by about this year were dashed.

The sheer hate of disabled people that drips from every MTA document about its accessibility installation is, frankly, disgusting, and makes a mockery of accessibility laws. Berlin has made stations accessible for about 2 million € apiece, and in Madrid the cost is about 10 million € (Madrid usually builds much more cheaply than Berlin, but first of all its side platforms and fare barriers mean it needs more elevators than Berlin, and second it builds more elevators than the minimum because at its low costs it can afford to do so). In New York, the costs nowadays start at $50 million and go up from there; the average for the current slate of stations is around $70 million.

And the reason for this inability to build is decisions made by current MTA leadership, on an ongoing basis. The norm in low- and medium-cost countries is that designs are made in-house, or by consultants who are directly supervised by in-house civil service engineers who have sufficient team size to make decisions. In New York, as in the rest of the US, the norms is that not only is design done with consultants, but also the consultants are supervised by another layer of consultants. The generalist leadership at the MTA doesn’t know enough to supervise them: the civil service is small and constantly bullied by the political appointees, and the political appointees have no background in planning or engineering and have little respect for experts who do. Thus, they tell the consultants “study everything” and give no guidance; the consultants dutifully study literally everything and can’t use their own expertise for how to prune the search tree, leading to very high design costs.

Procurement, likewise, is done on the principle that the MTA civil service can’t do anything. Thus, the political appointees build more and more layers of intermediaries. MTA head Janno Lieber takes credit for the design-build law from 2019, in which it’s legalized (and in some cases mandated) to have some merger of design and construction, but now there’s impetus to merge even more, in what is called progressive design-build (in short: New York’s definition of design-build is similar to what is used in Turkey and what we call des-bid-ign-build in our report – two contracts, but the design contract is incomplete and the build contract includes completing the design; progressive design-build means doing a single contract). Low- and medium-cost countries don’t do any of this, with the exception of Nordic examples, which have seen a sharp rise in costs from low to medium in conjunction with doing this.

And MTA leadership likes this. So do the contractors, since the civil service in New York is so enfeebled – scourged by the likes of Lieber, denied any flexibility to make decisions – that it can’t properly supervise design-bid-build projects (and still the transition to design-build is raising costs a bit). Layers of consultants, insulated from public scrutiny over why exactly the MTA can’t make its stations accessible or extend the subway, are exactly what incompetent political appointees (but I repeat myself) want.

Hence, the assessment. Other than the repulsively slow timeline on accessibility, this is not intended to be built. It’s not even intended as a “what if.” It’s barely even speculation. It’s kayfabe. It’s mimicry of a real plan. It’s a list of things that everyone agrees should be there plus a few things some planners wanted, mostly solidly, complete with numbers that say “oh well, we can’t, let’s move on.” And this will not end while current leadership stays there. They can’t build, and they don’t want to be able to build; this is the result.

High Speed 2 is (Partly) Canceled Due to High Costs

It’s not yet officially confirmed, but Prime Minister Rishi Sunak will formally announce that High Speed 2 will be paused north of Birmingham. All media reporting on this issue – BBC, Reuters, Sky, Telegraph – centers the issue of costs; the Telegraph just ran an op-ed supporting the curtailment on grounds of fiscal prudence.

I can’t tell you how the costs compare with the benefits, but the costs, as compared with other costs, really are extremely high. The Telegraph op-ed has a graph with how real costs have risen over time (other media reporting conflates cost overruns with inflation), which pegs current costs, with the leg to Manchester still in there, as ranging from about £85 billion to £112 billion in 2022 prices, for a full network of (I believe) 530 km. In PPP terms, this is $230-310 million/km, which is typical of subways in low-to-medium-cost countries (and somewhat less than half as much as a London Undeground extension). The total cost in 2022 terms of all high-speed lines opened to date in France and Germany combined is about the same as the low end of the range for High Speed 2.

I bring this up not to complain about high costs – I’ve done this in Britain many times – but to point out that costs matter. The ability of a country or city to build useful infrastructure really does depend on cost, and allowing costs to explode in order to buy off specific constituencies, out of poor engineering, or out of indifference to good project delivery practices means less stuff can be built.

Britain, unfortunately, has done all three. High Speed 2 is full of scope creep designed to buy off groups – namely, there is a lot of gratuious tunneling in the London-Birmingham first phase, the one that isn’t being scrapped. The terrain is flat by French or German standards, but the people living in the rural areas northwest of London are wealthy and NIMBY and complained and so they got their tunnels, which at this point are so advanced in construction that it’s not possible to descope them.

Then there are questionable engineering decisions, like the truly massive urban stations. The line was planned with a massive addition to Euston Station, which has since been descoped (I blogged it when it was still uncertain, but it was later confirmed); the current plan seems to be to dump passengers at Old Oak Common, at an Elizabeth line station somewhat outside Central London. It’s possible to connect to Euston with some very good operational discipline, but that requires imitating some specific Shinkansen operations that aren’t used anywhere in Europe, because the surplus of tracks at the Parisian terminals is so great it’s not needed there, and nowhere else in Europe is there such high single-city ridership.

And then there is poor project delivery, and here, the Tories themselves are partly to blame. They love the privatization of the state to massive consultancies. As I keep saying about the history of London Underground construction costs, the history doesn’t prove in any way that it’s Margaret Thatcher’s fault, but it sure is consistent with that hypothesis – costs were rising even before she came to power, but the real explosion happened between the 1970s (with the opening of the Jubilee line at 2022 PPP $172 million/km) and the 1990s (with the opening of the Jubilee line extension at $570 million/km).