The Swiss slogan electronics before concrete, and related slogans like run trains as fast as necessary, not as fast as possible, is a reminder not to waste money. However, I worry that it can be read as an argument against spending money in general. For many years now, Cap’n Transit has complained that this slogan is used to oppose bad transit like the Gateway Tunnel and if the money is not spent on public transportation then it may be spent on other things. But in reality, the Swiss slogans, all emphasizing cost minimization, must be reconciled with the fact that Switzerland builds a lot of concrete, including extensive regional rail tunneling in Zurich and intercity rail tunneling. Electronics precedes concrete, but does not always substitute for it; it’s better to think of these planning maxims as a way to do more with a fixed amount of money, and not as a way to do the same amount of project with less money.
The extent of tunneling in Switzerland
Here is a list of tunnels built in Switzerland since the 1980s, when its modern program of integrated timetable-infrastructure-rolling stock investment began:
Zurich S-Bahn, including the 7 km combination of the Hirschengraben and Zürichberg Tunnels for the first S-Bahn trunk starting 1990, and the 5 km Weinberg Tunnel for the second trunk starting 2014.
Geneva RER, including the CEVA trunk, which has about 8.4 km of tunnel.
The Mattstetten-Rothrist line between Olten and Bern is 52 km long of which a total of 21 km is in tunnel.
This is not a small program. Zurich and Geneva are not large cities, and yet they’ve build regional rail trunk tunnels – and Zurich has built two, the most of any German-speaking country, since Berlin and Hamburg only have one of their trunk lines each in tunnel, the rest running above ground. The Mattstetten-Rothrist line likewise does not run at high speed, topping at 200 km/h, because doing so would raise the cost of rolling stock acquisition without benefiting the national integrated timetable – but it was an extensive undertaking for how small Switzerland is. Per capita, Switzerland has built far more intercity rail tunnels by length than France, and may even be ahead of Germany and Italy – and that’s without taking into account the freight base tunnels.
The issue of passenger experience
It’s best to think of organization-before-electronics-before-concrete as a maxim for optimizing user experience more than anything. The system’s passengers would prefer to avoid having to loiter 20 minutes at every connection; this is why one designs timed transfers, and not any attempt to keep the budget down. The Bahn 2000 investments were made in an environment of limited money, but money is always limited – there’s plenty of austerity at the local level in the US too, it just ends up canceling or curtailing useful projects while bad ones keep going on.
In Europe, Switzerland has the highest modal split for rail measured in passenger-km, 19.3%, as of 2018; in 2019, this amounted to 2,338 km per person. The importance of rail is more than this – commuters who use trains tend to travel by train shorter than commuters who use cars drive, since they make routine errand trips on foot at short distance, so the passenger-km modal split is best viewed as an approximation of the importance of intercity rail. Europe’s #2 and #3 are Austria (12.9%) and the Netherlands (11.2%), and both countries have their own integrated intercity rail networks. One does not get to scratch 20% with a design paradigm that is solely about minimizing costs. Switzerland also has low construction costs, but Spain has even lower construction costs and it wishes it had Switzerland’s intensity of rail usage.
Optimizing organization and electronics…
A country or region whose network is a mesh of lines, like Switzerland or the Netherlands, had better adopt the integrated timed transfer concept, to ensure people can get from anywhere to anywhere without undue waiting for a connecting train and without waiting for many hours for a direct train. This includes organizational reforms in the likely case there are overlapping jurisdictions with separate bus, urban rail, and intercity rail networks. Fares should be integrated so as to be mode-neutral and offer free transfers throughout the system, and schedules should be designed to maximize connectivity.
This should include targeted investments in systems and reliability. Some of these should be systemwide, like electrification and level boarding, but sometimes this means building something at a particular delay-prone location, such as a long single-track segment or a railway junction. In all cases, it should be in the context of relentlessly optimizing operations and systems in order to minimize costs, ensure trains spend the maximum amount of time running in revenue service and the minimum amount of time sitting at a yard collecting dust, reduce the required schedule padding, etc.
…leads to concrete
Systemwide optimization invariably shows seams in the system. When Switzerland designed the Bahn 2000 network, there was extensive optimization of everything, but at the end of the day, Zurich-Bern was going to be more than an hour, which would not fit any hourly clockface schedule. Thus the Mattstetten-Rohrist line was born, not out of desire to run trains as fast as possible, but because it was necessary for the trains to run at 200 km/h most of the way between Olten and Bern to fit in an hourly takt.
The same is true of speed and capacity improvements. A faster, more reliable system attracts more passengers, and soon enough, a line designed around a train every 15 minutes fills up and requires a train every 10 minutes, 7.5 minutes, 6 minutes, 5 minutes, 4 minutes. An optimized system that minimizes the need for urban tunneling soon generates so much ridership that the tunnels it aimed to avoid become valuable additions to the network.
The Munich S-Bahn, for example, was built around this kind of optimization, inventing many of the principles of coordinated planning in the process. It had a clockface schedule early, and was (I believe) the first system in the world designed around a regionwide takt. It was built to share tracks with intercity and freight trains on outer branches rather than on purely dedicated tracks as in the older Berlin and Hamburg systems, and some of its outermost portions are on single-track. It uses very short signaling blocks to fit 30 trains per hour through the central tunnel in each direction. And now it is so popular it needs a second tunnel, which it is building at very high cost; area activists invoked the organization before electronics before concrete principle to argue against it and in favor of a cheaper solution avoiding city center, but at the end of the day, Munich already optimized organization and electronics, and now is the time for concrete, and even if costs are higher than they should be by a factor of 2-3, the line is worth it.
Electronics before concrete, not instead of concrete
Switzerland is not going to build a French-style national high-speed rail network anytime soon. It has no reason to – at the distances typical of such a small country, the benefits of running at 300 km/h are not large. But this does not mean its rail network only uses legacy lines – on the contrary, it actively builds bypasses and new tunnels. Right now there are plans for an S-Bahn tunnel in Basel, and for an express tunnel from Zurich to Winterthur that was removed from Bahn 2000. The same is true of other European countries that are at or near the frontier of passenger rail technology. Even the Deutschlandtakt plan, compromised as it is by fiscal austerity, by high construction costs, by a pro-car transport minister, and by NIMBYs, includes a fair amount of new high-speed rail, including for example a mostly fast path from Berlin to Frankfurt.
When you plan your rail network well, you encourage more people to use it. When you optimize the schedules, fare integration, transfer experience, and equipment, you end up producing a system that will, in nearly every case, attract considerable numbers of riders. Concrete is the next step: build those S-Bahn tunnels, those express bypasses, those grade separations, those high-speed lines. Work on organization first, and when that is good enough, build electronics, and once you have both, build concrete to make maximum use of what you have.
There’s an emerging mentality among left-wing urban planners in the US called “trust before streets.” It’s a terrible idea that should disappear, a culmination of about 50 or 60 years of learned helplessness in the American public sector. Too many people who I otherwise respect adhere to this idea, so I’m dedicating a post to meme-weeding it. The correct way forward is to think in terms of state capacity first, and in particular about using the state to enact tangible change, which includes providing better public transportation and remaking streets to be safer to people who are not driving. Trust follows – in fact, among low-trust people, seeing the state provide meaningful tangible change is what can create trust, and not endless public meetings in which an untrusted state professes its commitment to social justice.
What is trust before streets?
The trust before streets mentality, as currently used, means that the state has to first of all establish buy-in before doing anything. Concretely, if the goal is to make the streets safer for pedestrians, the state must not just build a pop-up bike lane or a pedestrian plaza overnight, the way Janette Sadik-Khan did in New York, because that is insensitive to area residents. Instead, it must conduct extensive public outreach to meet people where they’re at, which involves selling the idea to intermediaries first.
This is always sold as a racial justice or social justice measure, and thus the idea of trust centers low-income areas and majority-minority neighborhoods (and in big American cities they’re usually the same – usually). Thus, the idea of trust before streets is that it is racist to just build a pedestrian plaza or bus lanes – it may not be an improvement, and if it is, it may induce gentrification. I’ve seen people in Boston say trust before streets to caution against the electrification of the Fairmount Line just because of one article asserting there are complaints about gentrification in Dorchester, the low-income diverse neighborhood the line passes through (in reality, the white population share of Dorchester is flat, which is not the case in genuinely gentrifying American neighborhoods like Bushwick).
I’ve equally seen people use the expression generational trauma. In this way, the trust before streets mentality is oppositional to investments in state capacity. The state in a white-majority nation is itself white-majority, and people who think in terms of neighborhood autonomy find it unsettling.
Low trust and tangible results
The reality of low-trust politics is about the opposite of what educated Americans think it is. It is incredibly concrete. Abstract ideas like social justice, rights, democracy, and free speech do not exist in that reality, to the point that authoritarian populists have exploited low-trust societies like those of Eastern Europe to produce democratic backsliding. A Swede or a German may care about the value of their institutions and punish parties that run against them, but an Israeli or a Hungarian or a Pole does not.
In Israel, this is visible in the corona crisis: Netanyahu’s popularity, as expressed in election polls, has recently risen and fallen based on how Israel compares with the Western world when it comes to handling corona. In March, there was a rally-around-the-flag effect in Israel as elsewhere, giving Netanyahu cover to refuse to concede even though parties that pledged to replace him as prime minister with Benny Gantz got 62 out of 120 seats, and giving Gantz cover not to respond to hardball with hardball and instead join as a minister in Netanyahu’s government. Then in April and May, as Israel suppressed the first wave and had far better outcomes than nearly every European country, let alone the US, Netanyahu’s popularity surged while that of Gantz and the opposition cratered. The means did not matter – the entire package including voluntary quarantine hotels, Shin Bet surveillance for contact tracing, and a tight lockdown that Netanyahu, President Rivlin, and several ministers violated nonchalantly, was seen to produce results.
In the summer, this went in reverse. The second wave hit Israel earlier than elsewhere, and by late summer, its infection rate per capita was in the global top ten, and Israel had the largest population among those top ten countries. In late September it reached around 6,000 cases a day, around 650 per million people. The popularity of Netanyahu’s coalition was accordingly shot; Gantz himself is being nearly wiped out in the polls, but the opposition was holding steady, and Yamina, a party to the right of Likud led by Naftali Bennett that is not currently in the coalition and is perceived as more competent, Bennett himself having done a lot to moderate the party’s line, surged from its tradition 5-6 seats to 16.
Today the situation is unclear – Israelis have seen the state fight the second wave but it was not nearly as successful as in the spring, and right now there is a lot of chaos with vaccination. On the other hand, Israel is also the world’s vaccination capital, and eventually people will notice that by March Israel is (most likely) fully vaccinated while Germany is less than 10% vaccinated. Low-trust people notice results. If they’re disaffected with Netanyahu’s conduct, which most people are, they can then vote for a right-wing-light satellite party like New Hope, just as many voted Kulanu in 2015, which advertised itself as center, became kingmaker after the results were announced, and immediately joined under Netanyahu without trying to seriously negotiate.
Streets lead to trust
The story of corona in Israel does not exist in isolation. Low trust in many cases exists because people perceive the state to be hostile to their interests, which happens when it does not provide tangible goods. Many years ago, talking about his own history immigrating from the Soviet Union in the 1970s, Shalom Boguslavsky credited the welfare state for his integration, saying that if he’d immigrated in the 1990s he’d probably have ended up in a housing project in Ashdod and voted for Avigdor Lieberman, who at the time was running on Russian resentment more than anything.
In Northern Europe, perhaps trust is high precisely because the state provides things. My total mistrust of the German state in general and Berlin in particular is tempered by the fact that, at queer meetups, people remind me that Berlin’s center-left coalition has passed universal daycare, on a sliding scale ranging from 0 for poor parents to about €100/month for wealthy ones. This more than anything reminds me and others that the state is good for things other than dithering on corona and negatively stereotyping immigrant neighborhoods.
Such provisions of tangible goods cannot happen in a trust before streets environment. This works when the state takes action, and endless public meetings in which every objection must be taken seriously are the death of the state. It says a lot that in contrast with Northern Europe, in the United States even in wealthy left-wing cities it is unthinkable that the municipality can just raise taxes to pay teachers and social workers better. Low trust is downstream of low state capacity. Build the streets and trust will follow.
This has big implications for cities in the future, because it means firms will want to cluster more near production amenities – that is, other high-productivity firms. A city like New York manifestly has very weak consumption amenities, because in the spring it proved that its government is dangerously incompetent in a crisis – but its production amenities are likely to grow, because more firms will want to locate there and in other big, rich cities.
Remote work and the tech industry
The tech industry has long been familiar with remote work. The big multinationals have offices worldwide and some teams are remote, and some small firms are even all-remote. Much of this is an adaptation to the industry’s inability to bring everyone to San Francisco and Silicon Valley, where housing is too expensive and work visas are scarce. This has led to a big internal debate about the future of work; for decades now there have been predictions that the Internet would facilitate remote work and therefore reduce the need for cities to exist as office work centers.
The industry also reacted to corona slightly faster than the rest of the Western world. I’m not sure why – usually the American tech industry sneers at anything that comes out of Asia. But for whatever reason, Google sent its workers home in early March, and has been on work-from-home since, as have the other tech employers.
However, this was always intended to be a temporary arrangement. Workers were told to go back to the office when the crisis ended, at a date that keeps being pushed back and is now September 2021. Moreover, it appears that the industry wants to consolidate rather than disperse: Google, Amazon, Facebook, and Apple are all buying up office space in Manhattan, planning to add 22,000 jobs there. This is not San Francisco, but it’s the closest thing: New York is the United States’ second richest metropolitan region, and (I believe) the second biggest tech job center, with New York hosting the largest non-Bay Area Google office.
The problems with remote work
I have asked a number of people to talk to me about their experience with working from home. All are American professionals; this is far and away the easiest socioeconomic class to do an ethnography of. At no point did anyone ever tell me that everyone in their office is as productive working from home as they had been working as a team at the office. The work from home productivity loss is real; it does not affect everyone, but it affects enough people to be noticeable.
Specific problems I was told include,
Corona specifically is a very stressful event, so everyone is on edge and less productive than the usual.
Without continuous office work, it’s harder to onboard junior workers, even when senior workers are fine at home. Junior workers also lose the benefits of close mentoring.
Parents with children have to take on additional care duties, and without a stay-at-home parent this is difficult.
I believe in one case I was told the opposite of the above – that given that children are at home, it’s easier for parents than for non-parents.
At least per the CEO of United, who is obviously biased on this, firms perceive in-person sales to be more successful than virtual ones. In general, I’ve been told that work facing clients is less productive when it’s virtual and law firms can work remotely in the short run with their existing client base but in the long run they need the office.
The standard production theory, articulated for example by Alain Bertaud, is that working from home is less productive because there are no spontaneous interactions, and this seems true although I don’t recall anyone telling me this exact thing literally, but very similar problems are apparent.
What does this mean for cities?
Before corona, it was not always clear whether advances in telecommunications would make remote work viable. It increasingly looks like the answer is no, and therefore the most productive firms are likely to center around their usual clusters, just as the tech firms are buying up Manhattan office space. The upshot, then, is that high-cost, high-productivity city centers are likely to see more commercial demand in the medium and long runs.
One model that I’ve heard from multiple sources is mixed, for example 2-4 days a week at the office, 1-3 days remote. If this happens, then it will mean that people commute fewer days. This has opposite effects on office and residential geography: fewer commutes mean it’s more acceptable to live farther out and have longer work trips on work-at-office days, which encourages either suburbanization or hopping over to the next city over; for the exact same reason, it’s also more acceptable to site offices in areas with more traffic congestion, that is city center.
What does this mean for public transportation?
More urban job concentration universally requires better public transportation, since rapid transit is far and away the most efficient mode of transportation measured in capacity provided per unit of right-of-way width. However, the details are subtle. Most importantly, the American upper middle class mostly does not work 9 to 5 at the most productive firms. The tech industry tends toward shifted hours, especially on the East Coast in order to overlap Silicon Valley better, and even for the same reason in Israel. So the impact of more tech employment in Midtown is not that New York desperately needs more subway capacity, but rather that it needs to broaden the peak to last until 10 in the morning rather than 9. This conclusion does not depend much on whether workers show up at the office every day or only 3-4 days a week, because 60-80% of rush hour traffic still requires peak or near-peak train throughput.
There were many Americans who, back when corona seemed to be first and foremost a New York problem, predicted the end of cities, or the conversion of cities to spaces of consumption. Joel Kotkin even blamed New York’s density for corona and praised Los Angeles’s sprawl; now that Los Angeles is running out of hospital beds, nobody in the US blames density anymore. (One could also point out Seoul and Tokyo’s density, but not even 460,000 deaths and counting will make Americans say “our country needs to be more like other countries.”)
But this is not looking to happen. The most productive firms in the US are urbanizing – and those are the most productive firms in the world; it averages out with horrific American public-sector inefficiency to about the same GDP per hour as in Germany. And this means that going forward, the richest, most productive, and most expensive cities will remain spaces of high-end production, and will need to build sufficient numbers of office towers and residences and improve public transportation infrastructure to accommodate.
I’ve periodically written about consumption and production theories of cities – that is, whether people mostly move to cities based on consumption or production amenities. The production theory is that what matters is mostly production amenities, that is, jobs, and this underlies YIMBYism. Consumption theory is that people move for consumption amenities, and, moreover, these amenities are not exactly consumption in the city, for example good health outcomes, but consuming the city itself, that is neighborhood-level amenities in which who lives in the city matters. The latter theory, for example promulgated by Richard Florida, is that jobs follow consumption amenities like gay bars, and not the other way around. It is wrong and production theory is right, and I’d like to give some personal examples from Berlin, because I feel like Berliners all believe in consumption theory.
The situation in Berlin
Berlin is an increasingly desirable city. After decades in which it was economically behind, the city is growing. Unemployment, which stood at 19% in 2005, was down to 7.8% last year. With higher incomes come higher rents, and because Berlin for years built little housing as there was little demand, rents rose, and it took time for housing growth to catch up; on the eve of corona, the city was permitting about 6 annual dwellings per 1,000 people, up from about 1 in the early 2000s.
This is generally attributed to tech industry growth. There are a lot of tech startups in the city. I don’t want to exaggerate this too much – Google’s biggest Germany office is by far Munich’s, and the Berlin office is mostly a sales office with a handful of engineers who are here because of a two-body problem. But the smaller firms are here and the accelerator spaces are very visible, in a way that simply didn’t exist in Paris, or even in Stockholm.
Berlin’s production amenities
I might not have thought that Berlin should attract so much tech investment. My vulgar guess would be that tech would go to cities with many preexisting engineers, like Munich and Stuttgart, or maybe to Frankfurt for the international flight connections. But Berlin does make sense in a number of ways.
English
The city is mostly fluent in English. Jakub Marian’s map has France 39% Anglophone and Germany 56%, which doesn’t seem too outlandish to me. But Paris seems in line with the rest of France, whereas in Berlin, service workers seem mostly Anglophone, which is not the case in (say) Mainz or Munich.
The global tech industry is Anglophone, and good command of English is a huge production amenity. Other English-dependent industries seem to favor Anglophone European cities as well, for example various firms fleeing Brexit moved their European headquarters not to Paris but to Amsterdam or maybe Dublin.
The capital
The federal government is here. This is not relevant to tech – the startups here don’t seem to be looking for lobbying opportunities, and at any case German lobbying works differently from American lobbying and firm-level proximity to the capital is unimportant. However, the government stimulates local spending, which has increased employment. The government’s move here has been gradual, with institutions that during division were spread all over West Germany slowly migrating to Berlin.
Good infrastructure
The quality of infrastructure in Berlin is very good. The urban rail network was built when Berlin was Western Europe’s third largest city, after London and Paris, and has even grown after the war because the West built U7 and U9 to bypass Mitte. This means that commute pain here is not serious, especially on any even vaguely middle-class income. Moreover, Berlin has benefited from post-reunification investment, including Hauptbahnhof and two high-speed rail lines.
Consumption theory and the counterculture
The queer counterculture that I am involved with in Berlin tells a different story. To hear them tell it, Berlin has a quirky, individualistic, nonconforming culture, unlike the stifling normality of Munich. Artists moved here, and then other people moved here to be near the artists, paying higher rents until the artists could no longer afford the city. This story is told at every scale, from Berlin as a city to individual neighborhoods like Prenzlauer Berg and Neukölln. A lot of the discourse about Berlin repeats this uncritically, for example Feargus O’Sullivan at CityLab/Bloomberg Cities writes about the cool factor and about gentrification of old buildings.
It is also a completely wrong story. This is really important to understand: nobody that I know in the sort of spaces that are being blamed for gentrification, that is the tech industry and its penumbra, has any interest in the counterculture. I go to board games meetups full of tech workers who are fluent in English and often don’t know any German, and they have no connections at all to the local counterculture. They interact with immigrant culture spaces, not with the 95%+ white counterculture as defined by queer spaces in Neukölln that complain about gentrification in a neighborhood undergoing white flight at the rate of postwar New York (compare 2019 data, PDF-pp. 25 and 28, with 2016, PDF-pp. 28 and 31). Occasionally there are crossovers, as when an American comedian hosted live standup in February and then there were tech workers and said American also interacts with the counterculture, but a standup comic is not why Berliners complain.
Nor do I find foreign tech workers especially interested in German minutiae comparing Berlin with Munich. By my non-German standards, Berliners already jaywalk at indescribably lower rates, and I gather that Munich is stuffier but that’s not why I’m here and not there, the rents and the language are.
We’re not even particularly oppositional to the counterculture. I personally am because seeing queer space after queer space host indoor events during corona without masks was a horrifying experience; I went to a queer leftist meetup in late October in which people huddled together maskless and I was the only one with a mask on, except for one trans Australian physicist who drank a beer and then masked after finished. But the rest? They don’t care, nor should they. The counterculture is not the protagonist or the antagonist of Berlin’s story; it’s barely a bystander. Consumption theory is just what it promotes in order to convince itself that it’s important, that it spreads ideas and not viruses.
A bunch of Americans who should know better tell me that nobody really cares about construction costs – what matters is getting projects built. This post is dedicated to them; if you already believe that efficiency and social return on investment matter then you may find these examples interesting but you probably are not looking for the main argument.
Exhibit 1: North America
Vancouver
I wrote a post focusing on some North American West Coast examples 5 years ago, but costs have since run over and this matters from the point of view of building more in the future. In the 2000s and 10s, Vancouver had the lowest construction costs in North America. The cost estimate for the Broadway subway in the 2010s was C$250 million per kilometer, which is below world median; subsequently, after I wrote the original post, an overrun by a factor of about two was announced, in line with real increases in costs throughout Canada in the same period.
Metro Vancouver has always had to contend with small, finite amounts of money, especially with obligatory political waste. The Broadway subway serves the two largest non-CBD job centers in the region, the City Hall/Central Broadway area and the UBC, but in regional politics it is viewed as a Vancouver project that must be balanced with a suburban project, namely the lower-performing Surrey light rail. Thus, the amount of money that was ever made available was about in line with the original budget, which is currently only enough to build half the line. Owing to the geography of the West Side, half a line is a lot less than half as good as the full line, so Vancouver’s inability to control costs has led to worse public transportation investment.
Toronto
Like Vancouver, Toronto has gone from having pretty good cost control 20 years ago to having terrible cost control today. Toronto’s situation is in fact worse – its urban rail program today is a contender for the second most expensive per kilometer in the world, next to New York. The question of whether it beats Singapore, Hong Kong, London, Melbourne, Manila, Qatar, and Los Angeles depends on project details, essentially on scoring which of these is geologically and geographically the hardest to build in assuming competent leadership, which is in short supply in all of these cities. I am even tempted to specifically blame the most recent political interference for the rising costs, just as the adoption of design-build in the 2000s as an in-vogue reform must be blamed for the beginning of the cost blowouts.
The result is that Toronto is building less stuff. It’s been planning a U-shaped Downtown Relief Line for decades, since only the Yonge-University-Spadina (“YUS”) line serves downtown proper and is therefore overcrowded. However, it’s not really able to afford the full line, and hence it keeps downgrading it with various iterations, right now to an inverted L for the Ontario Line project.
Los Angeles
Los Angeles’s costs, uniquely in the United States, seemed reasonable 15 years ago, and no longer are. This, as in Canada, can be seen in building less stuff. High-ranking officials at Los Angeles Metro explained to me and Eric that the money for capital expansion is bound by formulas decided by referendum; there is a schedule for how to spend the money as far as 2060, which means that anything that is not in the current plan is not planned to be built in the next 40 years. Shifting priorities is not really possible, not with how Metro has to buy off every regional interest group to ensure the tax increases win referendums by the required 2/3 supermajority. And even then, the taxes imposed are rising to become a noticeable fraction of consumer spending – even if California went to majority vote, its tax capacity would remain very finite.
New York
The history of Second Avenue Subway screams “we would have built more had costs been lower.” People with deeper historic grounding than I do have written at length about the problems of the Independent Subway System (“IND”) built in the 1920s and 30s; in short, construction costs were in today’s terms around $140 million per km, which at the time was a lot (London and Paris were building subways for $30-35 million/km), and this doomed the Second System. But the same impact of high costs, scaled to the modern economy, is seen for the current SAS project.
The history of SAS is that it was planned as a single system from 125th Street to Hanover Square. The politician most responsible for funding it, Sheldon Silver, represented the Lower East Side. But spending capacity was limited, and in particular Silver had to trade that horse for East Side Access serving Long Island, which was Governor George Pataki’s base. The package was such that SAS could only get a few billion dollars, whereas at the time the cost estimate for the entire 13-km line was $17 billion. That’s why SAS was chopped into four phases, starting on the Upper East Side. Silver himself signed off on this in the early 2000s even though his district would only be served in phase four: he and the MTA assumed that there would be further statewide infrastructure packages and the entire line would be complete by 2020.
Exhibit 2: Israel
Israel is discussing extending the Tel Aviv Metro. It sounds weird to speak of extensions when the first line is yet to open, but that line, the Red Line, is under construction and close enough to the end that people are believing it will happen; Israelis’ faith that there would ever be a subway in Tel Aviv was until recently comparable to New Yorkers’ faith until the early 2010s that Second Avenue Subway would ever open. The Red Line is a subway-surface Stadtbahn, as is the under-construction Green Line and the planned Purple Line. But metropolitan Tel Aviv keeps growing and is at this point an economic conurbation of about 3-4 million people, with a contiguous urban core of 1.5 million. It needs more. Hence, people keep discussing additions. The Ministry of Finance, having soured on the Stadtbahn idea, bypassed the Ministry of Transport and introduced a complementary three-line underground driverless metro system.
The cost of the system is estimated at 130-150 billion shekels, which is around $39 billion. This is not a sum Israelis are used to seeing for a government project. It’s about two years’ worth of IDF spending, and Israeli is a militarized society. It’s about 10% of annual GDP, which in American or EU-wide terms would be $2 trillion. The state has many competing budget priorities, and there are so many other valid claims on the state coffers. It is therefore likely that the metro project’s construction will stretch over many years, not out of planning latency but out of real resource limits. People in Israel understand that Gush Dan has severe traffic congestion and needs better transportation – this is not a point of political controversy in a society that has many. But this means the public is willing to spend this amount of money over 15-20 years at the shortest. Were costs to double, in line with the costs in most of th Anglosphere, it would take twice as long; were they to fall in half, in line with Mediterranean Europe, it would take half as long.
Exhibit 3: Spain
As the country with the world’s lowest construction costs for infrastructure, Spain builds a lot of it, everywhere. This includes places where nobody else would think to build a metro tunnel or an airport or a high-speed rail line; Spain has the world’s second longest high-speed rail network, behind China. Many of these lines probably don’t even make sense within a Spanish context – RENFE at best operationally breaks even, and the airports were often white elephants built at the peak of the Spanish bubble before the 2008 financial crisis.
One can see this in urban rail length just as in high-speed rail. Madrid Metro is 293 km long, the third longest in Europe behind London and Moscow. This is the result of aggressive expansion in the 1990s and 2000s; new readers are invited to read Manuel Melis Maynar’s writeup of how when he was Madrid Metro’s CEO he built tunnels so cheaply. Expansion slowed down dramatically after the financial crisis, but is starting up again; the Spanish economy is not good, but when one can build subways for €100 million per kilometer, one can build subways that other cities would not. In addition to regular metros, Madrid also has regional rail tunnels – two of them in operation, going north-south, with a third under construction going east-west and a separate mainline rail tunnel for cross-city high-speed rail.
Exhibit 4: Japan
Japan practices economic austerity. It wants to privatize Tokyo Metro, and to get the best price, it needs to keep debt service low. When the Fukutoshin Line opened in 2008, Tokyo Metro said it would be the system’s last line, to limit depreciation and interest costs. The line amounted to around $280 million/km in today’s money, but Tokyo Metro warned that the next line would have to cost $500 million/km, which was too high. The rule in Japan has recently been that the state will fund a subway if it is profitable enough to pay back construction costs within 30 years.
Now, as a matter of politics, on can and should point out that a 30-year payback, or 3.3% annual interest, is ridiculously high. For one, Japan’s natural interest rate is far lower, and corporations borrow at a fraction of that interest; JR Central is expecting to be paying down Chuo Shinkansen debt until the 2090s, for a project that is slated to open in full in the 2040s. However, if the state changes its rule to something else, say 1% interest, all that will change is the frontier of what it will fund; lines will continue to be built up to a budgetary limit, so that the lower the construction costs, the more stuff can be built.
Conclusion: the frontier of construction
In a functioning state, infrastructure is built as it becomes cost-effective based on economic growth, demographic projections, public need, and advances in technology. There can be political or cultural influences on the decisionmaking process, but they don’t lead to huge swings. What this means is that as time goes by, more infrastructure becomes viable – and infrastructure is generally built shortly after it becomes economically beneficial, so that it looks right on the edge of viability.
This is why megaprojects are so controversial. Taiwan High-Speed Rail and Korea Train Express are both very strong systems nowadays. Total KTX ridership stood at 89 million in 2019 and was rising on the eve of corona, thanks to Korea’s ability to build more and more lines, for example the $69 million/km, 82% undergroundSRT reverse-branch. THSR, which has financial data on Wikipedia, has 67 million annual riders and is financially profitable, returning about 4% on capital after depreciation, before interest. But when KTX and THSR opened, they both came far below ridership projections, which were made in the 1990s when they had much faster economic convergence before the 1997 crisis. They were viewed as white elephants, and THSR could not pay interest and had to refinance at a lower rate. Taiwan and South Korea could have waited 15 years and only opened HSR now that they have almost fully converged to first-world Western incomes. But why would they? In the 2000s, HSR in both countries was a positive value proposition; why skip on 15 years of good infrastructure just because it was controversially good then and only uncontroversially good now?
In a functioning state, there is always a frontier of technology. The more cost-effective construction is, the further away the frontier is and the more infrastructure can be built. It’s likely that a Japan that can build subways for Korean costs is a Japan that keeps expanding the Tokyo rail network, because Japan is not incompetent, just austerian and somewhat high-cost. The way one gets more stuff built is by ensuring costs look like those of Spain and Korea and not like those of Japan and Israel, let alone those of the United States and Canada.
Americans are in big infrastructure spending mood, and my post from February using Metcalfe’s law to argue in favor of expansive high-speed rail in the eastern half of the United States has been attracting renewed attention. That post looked at how Metcalfe’s law that the value of a network rises in proportion to the square of the number of nodes implied that once a strong HSR corridor existed, for example the Northeast Corridor, extensions would be strong as well even if they connected much smaller cities. People have been asking me to extend that analysis to more lines that do not touch the Northeast Corridor, so here goes.
As a reminder, I’m using a simple gravity model, of the following level of sophistication:
He doesn’t put his axe down when standing on a crowded train, either. Credit: Anaterate.
The model is that the annual ridership in millions between two metropolitan areas A and B, with populations in the millions, is,
The theoretical reason for the 0.8 exponents is diseconomies of scale: the average person in Tokyo is farther from Tokyo Station than the average person in a small city is from their respective intercity rail station. Empirically, the best fit exponent for observed data in Japan and Europe is 0.8 – see sources in my previous post and in this post (sourced to since-rotted links) for France. The 500 km minimum is an artifact of the impact of station access time and the option of driving instead of taking the train.
Fares are set at typical Continental European levels rather than Japanese ones. As in the previous post, this means $0.135 per passenger-km, which breaks down as $0.07/p-km in operating expenses including rolling stock but excluding infrastructure and $0.065/p-km in profit, up to a total profit of $50/passenger. Beyond $50 in profit, which normally occurs at 770 km, fares only rise with operating expenses, to be more competitive with airlines. The goal is to find lines that have annual profits of more than 2-3% of construction costs.
A note of caution on the model
There are arguments to be made to refine the gravity model above in either direction. Ridership estimates in Britain are well above what the model predicts. High Speed 2 projects 3 trains per hour between London and Birmingham, running nonstop between the two cities so that no other city pairs can be added. The model gives an annual ridership equal to,
which fills around 1 train per hour in each direction to 50% of seated capacity. It’s possible the model does give higher ridership figures for very close-by cities – London and Birmingham are only 180 km apart – or it’s possible some unknown factor exists. Or HS2’s traffic estimates could be completely off.
In the case of the US, it’s likely any HSR will run faster than legacy 1960s Shinkansen. However, there’s a serious malus coming from higher car ownership, lower car traffic levels, and much weaker city centers. This is unlikely to be a problem for traffic to New York, but the last post dealt with that, whereas today we’re looking mostly at lines that aren’t about New York. Even Chicago is extremely auto-oriented by the standards of London or Paris, let alone Tokyo.
Metcalfe’s law for HSR in the Midwest: the initial line
The Midwest benefits from two things: it is flat, which reduces construction costs to $20-25 million per km if European norms are followed, and it has near-megacity Chicago in the middle. Unfortunately, Chicago is big but not big enough, and while the secondary cities are pretty big, there aren’t additional medium-size cities nearby the way Lyon has Saint-Etienne, Marseille has Toulon, etc. HSR can succeed, but the return on investment is for the most part marginal. The one exception is lines that can leverage the Northeastern network, including eventually not just the Northeast Corridor but also tie-ins to Pittsburgh and Cleveland, both of which are at reasonable HSR distance from New York.
By itself, the core Midwestern network would connect Chicago (10 million people) with Toledo (0.8, a distance of 370 km) and thence split toward Detroit (5 million, 100 km from Toledo) and Cleveland (3 million, 180 km). This leads to the following O&D ridership matrix, in millions:
City W\City E
Toledo
Detroit
Cleveland
Chicago
1.58
6.86
3.77
Toledo
—
0.91
0.6
Detroit
—
—
2.62
And in annual operating profits, in millions of dollars:
City W\City E
Toledo
Detroit
Cleveland
Chicago
38.08
209.56
134.68
Toledo
—
5.91
7.07
Detroit
—
—
47.65
This is not a lot of ROI. It’s $443 million a year, for a 650 km system, which should cost maybe $15 billion. It’s 3% by itself, which isn’t horrible, but compares poorly with Northeastern lines even though it connects the Midwest’s numbers 1, 2, and 4 metro regions.
In contrast, suppose a Northeastern system preexists, or perhaps is built at the same time, including a Pittsburgh-Cleveland connection. What then? Well, the question is really what the ROI is on connections from west of Cleveland to east of Cleveland. There are four metro areas east of Cleveland on the way to New York: Pittsburgh (2.5 million, 200 km from Cleveland), Harrisburg (0.7, 280 km from Pittsburgh), Philadelphia (7 million, 170 km from Harrisburg), New York (22 million, 140 km from Philadelphia). Washington has 10 million people and is 220 km from Philadelphia, but because a Washington-Philadelphia-Harrisburg route is circuitous, trains can only charge for 220 km, which is $29.70, and then earn the usual rate of $0.135/km farther west up to a maximum of $50 in profit, which is reached 730 km west of Harrisburg, or somewhat west of Toledo. With this in mind, we use the same pair of tables as above for the new city pairs, first ridership and then operating income:
City W\City E
Pittsburgh
Harrisburg
Philadelphia
New York
Washington
Chicago
1.75
0.34
1.56
3.12
1.48
Toledo
0.52
0.11
0.43
0.79
0.36
Detroit
2.26
0.35
1.49
2.81
1.3
City W\City E
Pittsburgh
Harrisburg
Philadelphia
New York
Washington
Chicago
85.36
16.77
77.94
156.23
74.03
Toledo
12.9
4.64
21.6
39.53
17.95
Detroit
70.6
17.47
74.53
140.73
64.84
The total operating income is $875 million a year, which combines with our internal $443 million to produce an 8.8% ROI. This relies on estimating HSR ridership at hefty distances – New York-Chicago is 1,340 km and around 5 hours, New York-Detroit is 1,070 km and around 4 hours. But we do have ridership estimates for city pairs of that magnitude in both Europe and Japan and they’re fine, except for airline-dominated Tokyo-Fukuoka. If anything, this is more robust than making assumptions on how many people are willing to travel by train between two cities without public transportation like Cleveland and Detroit.
Metcalfe’s law for the Midwest: further lines
Past plans for a Chicago-centered Midwestern HSR network called for four spokes: east toward Cleveland and Detroit, northwest toward Milwaukee and Minneapolis, southeast toward Indianapolis and Cincinnati, and southwest toward St. Louis and perhaps Kansas City. These spokes do pan out financially, but the ROI is not great. Even a line that doesn’t touch Chicago can work, namely HSR between Cleveland, Columbus, and Cincinnati – those three cities are too small and weak-centered to produce internal ridership, but New York-Columbus is in similar shape to New York-Detroit.
Milwaukee (2 million, 140 km from Chicago)
Milwaukee’s metro area touches Chicago’s. HSR between the two cities alone is not worth it, since at this distance, top speed isn’t as relevant as station access time. However, the addition of other cities makes this worthwhile. Since Milwaukee is just on city, we put ridership and operating income in the same table:
City
Ridership
Operating income
Chicago
3.3
29.99
Toledo
0.42
13.92
Detroit
1.27
50.42
Cleveland
0.66
29.62
Pittsburgh
0.34
17.16
Harrisburg
0.07
3.59
Philadelphia
0.34
17.25
New York
0.71
35.34
Washington
0.33
16.3
The ROI within the Midwest alone on what should be about $3 billion in construction is around 4% – higher than the bare Chicago-Cleveland/Detroit system. With Northeastern tie-ins, this rises to 7%, if one is confident in second-order but noticeable extra revenue from trains from New York, which would necessarily be a two-seat ride and take almost 6 hours with transfer time.
St. Louis (3 million, 460 km from Chicago) and Kansas City (2.5 million, 400 km from St. Louis)
The Chicago-St. Louis line has received some investments in the last 10 years that the state of Illinois pretends are high-speed rail. Those are expensive – there’s extensive surplus extraction by actors including politicians and the freight railroads – and perform exactly as one should expect trains that are slower than the legacy trains that the TGV replaced 40 years ago. However, this says nothing about whether trains that Europeans and East Asians would recognize as fast could succeed on that corridor. Could they?
A reasonable estimate for the Chicago-St. Louis construction cost is $10 billion; St. Louis-Kansas City would be another $10 billion, perhaps slightly costlier per km because Missouri’s terrain isn’t quite so flat as Illinois’s. Ignoring transfer penalties, we get the following ridership and operating income out of it:
City N\City SW
St. Louis
Kansas City
Cleveland
0.43
0.19
Toledo
0.22
0.09
Detroit
0.76
0.32
Chicago
4.56
1.33
Milwaukee
0.87
0.27
St. Louis
—
1.5
City N\City SW
St. Louis
Kansas City
Cleveland
21.32
9.45
Toledo
10.97
4.32
Detroit
37.84
15.99
Chicago
136.3
66.59
Milwaukee
34.07
13.59
St. Louis
—
39.1
St. Louis generates 6.84 million riders and $240 million in operating profit, which is above our 2% minimum but not by much. Moreover, 6.84 million riders means a train every hour, at which point there are real frequency artifacts for a service that shouldn’t take much longer than an hour and a half to Chicago. So it’s marginal, though still plausible. But if this is plausible, Kansas City isn’t: it generates $150 million. There are small intermediate stop locations like Springfield and Columbia, but they’re too small to make a difference.
The Ohio Hub
The four largest metro areas of Ohio are roughly collinear. Going southwest of Cleveland, one has Columbus (2.5 million, 220 km), then Dayton (1 million, 110 km), and finally Cincinnati (2.3 million, 90 km). Construction costs are likely to be low because of the terrain – only around Cincinnati are there significant hills. 420 km for $10 billion is plausible. What is the ridership, and what is the revenue?
City E\City W
Columbus
Dayton
Cincinnati
New York
1.81
0.71
1.18
Philadelphia
0.98
0.37
0.6
Washington
0.83
0.1
0.55
Harrisburg
0.24
0.09
0.14
Pittsburgh
1.3
0.56
0.79
Cleveland
1.5
0.72
1.41
Columbus
—
0.62
1.22
Dayton
—
—
0.58
City E\City W
Columbus
Dayton
Cincinnati
New York
90.71
35.44
59.13
Philadelphia
48.91
18.52
30.25
Washington
39.79
4.93
27.68
Harrisburg
10.9
4.3
6.78
Pittsburgh
35.48
19.14
31.87
Cleveland
21.5
15.5
38.4
Columbus
—
4.46
15.81
Dayton
—
—
3.42
The total operating income is $563 million a year, which is 5.6% ROI. The biggest cells – New York-Columbus, New York-Cincinnati, Philadelphia-Columbus, Washington-Columbus – are reasonably certain. The internal Midwestern numbers are more suspect, as are the numbers involving Pittsburgh – these are cities where car ownership approaches 100% and the remainder are carless out of poverty, and the destinations are fairly decentralized.
Indianapolis and points south
Indianapolis (2.5 million, 280 km from Chicago) is an attractive-looking target. By itself it’s not much, just like slightly-bigger St. Louis, but unlike St. Louis, it has cities behind it in Cincinnati (170 km) and Louisville (1.5 million, 180 km) that are not as far from everything as Kansas City is. Moreover, Indianapolis-Cincinnati also unlocks travel to Columbus, probably with a transfer because the bluffs around Cincinnati force trains from both Indianapolis and Columbus to enter from the north, without through-service.
South of Louisville, it’s attractive to go south to Nashville (2 million, 270 km from Louisville), Chattanooga (1 million, 200 km), and finally Atlanta (7 million, 180 km). But unlike the New York-Atlanta and the New York-Chicago legs of the triangle, the Chicago-Atlanta leg is decent but not amazing, since it omits the largest city.
City S\City N
Milwaukee
Chicago
Indianapolis
Louisville
Nashville
Chattanooga
Indianapolis
1.09
3.94
—
—
—
—
Cincinnati
0.73
3.69
1.22
—
—
—
Dayton
0.28
1.62
0.62
—
—
—
Columbus
0.44
2.33
1.3
—
—
—
Louisville
0.5
2.62
0.86
—
—
—
Nashville
0.3
1.55
1.09
0.72
—
—
Chattanooga
0.11
0.55
0.37
0.41
0.52
—
Atlanta
0.4
1.82
1.07
1.16
2.48
1.42
City S\City N
Milwaukee
Chicago
Indianapolis
Louisville
Nashville
Chattanooga
Indianapolis
29.68
71.7
—
—
—
—
Cincinnati
28.01
107.8
13.43
—
—
—
Dayton
12.48
56.96
10.55
—
—
—
Columbus
21.77
98.49
32.1
—
—
—
Louisville
19.57
78.28
10.1
—
—
—
Nashville
15
73.36
31.8
12.68
—
—
Chattanooga
5.7
27.36
15.61
12.68
6.79
—
Atlanta
19.82
91.1
53.74
49.21
61.2
16.65
Reasonable construction costs are $6 billion to Indianapolis, $4 billion to each of Cincinnati and Louisville, $7 billion to Nashville, $6 billion to Chattanooga, and $5 billion to Atlanta. Indianapolis itself doesn’t generate sufficient ROI, but with the addition of Cincinnati it is pretty strong, the combined system generating $483 million, or 4.8% ROI. Then Louisville generates $108 million, or 2.7%; Nashville generates $133 million, or 1.9%; and Chattanooga and Atlanta together generate $360 million, or 3.3%. Note that the last segment generates the highest ROI, and moreover it is not really possible to start from Atlanta and move north, since Chattanooga alone doesn’t generate significant ridership to cities northeast of Atlanta, as those cities are either small (Greenville, Charlotte) or far (Washington).
Update 12-21: Madison (0.9 million, 120 km from Milwaukee) and Minneapolis (4 million, 400 km from Madison)
The above calculations are for expansions from the first Midwestern core line connecting metro regions #1, 2, and 4 to on another. But what about the #3 region, Minneapolis? Minneapolis has a metro area of 4 million, and is by far the largest Midwestern region with population growth, having grown 9% between 2010 and 2019, whereas Chicago, Detroit, and St. Louis were flat and Cleveland declined.
It should not surprise that Chicago-Minneapolis traffic alone is insufficient to justify HSR, given that Chicago-Detroit alone is not and that line requires service to Cleveland as well as points east. Fortunately, Minneapolis’s location is such that through-service from much of the rest of the Midwest is plausible. Distances are long – this isn’t the Northeast or Western Europe – but trips between Minneapolis and secondary cities like Cleveland, Detroit, Cincinnati, and Indianapolis become much faster by rail than by car. Even St. Louis-Minneapolis is feasible, even though nowadays there’s a mostly direct all-freeway route that’s 900 km long vs. 1,120 by HSR. Midwestern travel today is dominated by the car and not the plane, since car ownership is universal and flying between two secondary cities is not necessarily convenient or cheap.
We get the following matrix of ridership:
City S\City N
Madison
Minneapolis
Cleveland
0.25
0.37
Toledo
0.15
0.18
Detroit
0.47
0.65
Columbus
0.17
0.28
Dayton
0.11
0.16
Cincinnati
0.27
0.36
Louisville
0.18
0.25
Indianapolis
0.49
0.54
St. Louis
0.32
0.44
Chicago
1.74
3.29
Milwaukee
0.48
1.46
Madison
—
0.84
And here is the matrix of operating income:
City S\City N
Madison
Minneapolis
Cleveland
12.65
18.7
Toledo
5.95
8.96
Detroit
22.24
32.26
Columbus
8.66
13.79
Dayton
5.39
7.89
Cincinnati
12.29
17.96
Louisville
8.61
12.53
Indianapolis
17.27
26.78
St. Louis
14.99
21.82
Chicago
29.4
141.28
Milwaukee
3.74
49.48
Madison
—
21.73
A reasonable construction cost for Milwaukee-Minneapolis is around $13 billion. Overall operating income is $514 million a year, so 4% ROI; one can even scratch a few fractions of 1% by including extra ridership from connections from points east of Cleveland, but I’m comfortable rounding New York-Minneapolis ridership over 2,000 km and a probably-untimed transfer in Chicago from 0.67 million to zero. At most, including East Coast-Minneapolis rail ridership provides cushion against unresolved questions such as whether people would take a 4.5-hour train between Detroit and Minneapolis or continue driving for 10 hours plus rest stops.
Metcalfe’s law in California
In California, the definition of a metro area is dicey. The combined statistical area for the Bay Area has 9.7 million people, but that includes Merced, Modesto, and Stockton, all of which are geographically in the Central Valley and would get dedicated HSR stations, some on a different branch from that going toward the Bay proper. In fact, we have 9.7^0.8 = 6.16, but if we sum each individual MSA component and raise its population to the 0.8th power, even omitting ones without planned HSR stations like Santa Cruz and Napa, we get a total of about 7. So we should use the higher figure. Likewise, in Los Angeles, taking the CSA population yields 18.7^0.8 = 10.41 whereas summing the constituent metro areas separately yields 11.3, and summing the counties, all of which are supposed to have stations, yields 12.8. We use the higher figure, 12.
Together we get 25 million intercity riders, before applying the distance penalty. The distance depends on which pair of stations we look at, since we’re summing over many different stations; it also depends on alignment choices, which don’t all have the same average speed, which means that trip time, whence the distance malus, is not perfectly congruent to distance. To simplify, we assume that LA-SF is 2:45, which at Shinkansen speed is 650 km; this is shorter than the actual LA-SF distance under most alignments, though not by much, and it’s longer than actual distances to subsidiary Northern California destinations.
With this in mind, our formula spits out 14.79 million intercity rail trips. This is a lot lower than California HSR estimates. Those estimates also include San Diego (3 million, 190 km from LA), Bakersfield (0.9 million, 180 km), Fresno (1.3 million, 170 km from Bakersfield), and Sacramento (2.6 million, 270 km from Fresno, 230 km from SF). None of these adds a lot, though. The reasons for the discrepancy include,
California HSR assumed heavy HSR commuter traffic – Palmdale-Los Angeles was one of the top city pairs.
California HSR assumed somewhat lower fares than the European norm, standing at $79 for LA-SF.
California was projecting population into the future, and may have assumed less NIMBYism than the state presently has.
The California HSR model may have had flaws; one such flaw was overestimating the impact of frequency at the LA-SF range, to the point that pruning branches such as to San Jose was said to increase ridership by improving frequency to the remaining destinations.
Not that the numbers coming out of my model are bad. The LA-SF numbers alone are worth $625 million in operating profits a year, and with Bakersfield and Fresno this grows to $875 million. The cost of the project without San Diego and Sacramento tie-ins should be on the order of $25-30 billion, in today’s money. Sacramento is maybe 90 extra km and $2 billion depending on alignment, and generates another $260 million or so; Metcalfe’s law is practically a free gift when you have a 90 km spur in flat geography. San Diego is probably something like $6 billion, the higher cost coming from the constrained urban environment and the need for some viaducts and one short tunnel, and adds around $240 million in operating profits.
I am of course aware that at no point was the cost of California HSR $25 billion in 2020 terms. In 2008 the state promised $33 billion in 2008 dollars. The discrepancy comes from some catastrophically bad decisions regarding scope at every stage of the planning phase and bad procurement. But if one looks at what the project needed rather than what has been built in the Central Valley and plugs in standardized costs, the answer is around $25 billion.
Earlier this week, I wrote about the incomes of commuters, looking at the incomes of people who commute to the central business districts of six American cities by distance from the center. Contrary to the story of drive-until-you-qualify, in which incomes drop as one moves farther out, in fact incomes tend to rise with commute distance. I was asked by many people in comments and on Twitter, what about the general public, and not just commuters?
The answer is that the answer changes but not by much. The model remains that of the poverty donut, in which people within a certain distance from city center, between 5 and 20 km depending on city size, are poorer than people in both the innermost radius and people who live in the suburbs farther out.
As before, we use data from OnTheMap, which slices jobs by income brackets, of which the highest is $40,000 or more per year in wages. This does not take unemployment or non-wage income into account, but usually these amplify existing inequalities in wages.
Here’s the same table as in the last post, with counts of employed residents and the share of $40,000+ workers within the same radii from the same point as before, without the restriction that people work in the CBD:
City
New York
Los Angeles
Chicago
Washington
San Francisco
Boston
Point
Grand Central
7th/Metro Center
Madison/State
Farragut
Market/2nd
DTX
0-5 km
680,133
203,820
176,979
177,312
222,134
219,045
40k+ %
67.6%
33%
68.6%
66.4%
69.2%
58.7%
5-10 km
1,123,426
506,084
342,255
297,723
239,994
379,292
40k+ %
50.1%
34.7%
48%
53%
57.6%
53.5%
10-15 km
1,335,294
627,797
468,107
342,649
261,568
274,212
40k+ %
41.5%
40.7%
39.3%
50.6%
57.3%
58.8%
15-20 km
1,114,743
736,561
368,022
306,101
248,715
223,600
40k+ %
45.5%
44.3%
44.4%
51.8%
55.8%
57.9%
20-30 km
1,289,364
1,220,414
539,332
485,355
367,591
384,671
40k+ %
51.8%
44.2%
47.6%
56.6%
58.4%
57.9%
30-40 km
905,254
1,020,080
630,250
551,093
469,556
387,372
40k+ %
57.1%
44.9%
49.3%
53.7%
60.3%
54.8%
40-50 km
753,040
754,717
633,381
478,307
377,010
377,544
40k+ %
55.8%
45.9%
51.1%
56.3%
63.7%
53.9%
50-60 km
623,786
632,476
554,520
435,857
405,328
421,248
40k+ %
55.7%
49.6%
47.4%
47.2%
62.5%
51.8%
60-70 km
535,991
405,516
399,769
410,554
498,840
434,048
40k+ %
55.6%
50.2%
49.8%
48.8%
58.8%
45.8%
70-80 km
484,356
518,270
189,540
232,985
410,047
402,805
40k+ %
54.9%
46.5%
48.7%
51.2%
54.4%
47.9%
Notes
A few valuable footnotes to the table above:
In Boston, the innermost 3 km radius, comprising such neighborhoods as Back Bay, there are 98,691 residents of whom 66.4% earn at least $40,000 a year, but the 5 km level of granularity doesn’t quite see that because the city is smaller than the others. So the swoosh model seen in New York and Washington still holds.
The 50-60 km and 60-70 km annuli around Washington include most of Baltimore, so they are poor once we strip the requirement that people work in the District. They do not show suburban poverty, but urban poverty in a city that, far from getting the transportation investment Massachusetts is putting into the Gateway Cities, had a subway line canceled by a popular moderate Republican governor for what’s almost certainly racist reasons.
The situation in the Bay Area is the reverse of that of Washington. The 40-50 km and 50-60km annuli are wealthy because they happen to include wealthy communities on the Peninsula whose suburban status is awkward, having been both wealthy commuter suburbs of San Francisco and more recently Silicon Valley edge cities with many tech jobs.
What’s going on in Los Angeles?
All other cities on the table have poverty donuts, poorer than both the city core and the suburbs. But in Los Angeles, the $40,000+ share grows nearly monotonically as distance from the CBD increases. The 5 km radius from the center, which in New York comprises the Upper East and West Sides and in Chicago comprises the North Side and the gentrifying parts of the Near South Side, is the poorest group in Los Angeles. It consists of neighborhoods that are not particularly wealthy, like Boyle Heights, Filipinotown, and Koreatown.
The broader question is, how come those neighborhoods have not gentrified the way their counterparts in other American cities did?
The answer to this question has to be that Los Angeles is very weak-centered. The other five cities all have strong CBDs, which means the middle class is willing to pay extra to live near their centers. In Los Angeles, employment in the CBD is weaker, so fewer people of means try to concentrate there.
Place-based policy for commuters
Despite the fact that people who live 50 km from city center are noticeably poorer than people who live 50 km and work at city center, there’s an impulse to focus on rush-hour commuter transportation at this range. This can include highway widening, or commuter rail that is so peak-focused it’s essentially a highway widening, interfacing with the suburban road and parking network but not with any urban public transportation.
Even though the people such policy helps are better-off than most, governments still sell it as a social justice measure that would promote equity. The error here is that while people in (say) New Bedford are poorer than average, the local notables who decide what the New Bedford agenda is are richer than average, and they want to be able to say that they steered spending to the area in order to feel more important.
It’s an awkward situation in which money is wasted on grounds of both efficiency and equality. The local notables are on the wealthy side, like the CBD-bound commuters, but they’re a distinct group with mostly local ties, so they understand the needs of regional rail even worse than 9-to-5 commuters as as class do. So the money is wasted, and it’s wasted in a way that increases inequality rather than decreasing it.
Job access for the working class
The best place for job access for the working class remains city center. In Los Angeles, this is direct from the data: for all the talk about drive-until-you-qualify exurbs in the Inland Empire, incomes there remain higher than in East LA or South Central. But this is true even in the other cities, for two distinct reasons.
In some cities, like Chicago, there is notable directionality – that is, there is a favored quarter (the North Side) and an ill-favored one (the South Side). Job suburbanization generally goes in the direction of the favored quarter because that is where corporate management lives. In Washington, Amazon decided to build HQ2 in the direction of the favored quarter, in Virginia, and offered the ill-favored quarter, the lower middle-class Prince George’s County, a lower-end warehousing job center. This situation seems universal or nearly so: in Paris most job suburbanization goes to the western favored quarter, in Tel Aviv it goes to the northern favored quarter, and so on.
But not all cities have much directionality. New York doesn’t – go in any direction outside the Manhattan core and you’ll find poverty, whether it’s in Harlem, Corona, Bed-Stuy, Jersey City, or Bergen Hill, and go further and you’ll find reasonable levels of comfort.
That said, in New York, off-center jobs are awfully inaccessible. Creating more jobs in Harlem would be great for working-class black and Hispanic job seekers in the area, but would not be very accessible from Brooklyn or Hudson County. Even access from the Bronx may be compromised by East Side vs. West Side divisions: how much access does the South Bronx get to Uptown Manhattan’s biggest job center, Columbia?
What’s more, plans for decentralizing jobs in the New York region don’t focus on Harlem or Jersey City, just as plans in Washington go to Fairfax County and not PG County. The PennDesign plan for high-speed rail, dubbed North Atlantic Rail, calls for a job center on Long Island called Nassau Center, in a homogeneously comfortable part of the region.
So in all cases, keeping jobs as concentrated in city center as possible, and allowing the CBD to organically expand into nearby areas, ensures the best job access for everyone, but this is disproportionately helpful for lower-income workers. There just isn’t enough suburban poverty writ large to justify any deurbanization of job geography on equity grounds.
Who: me, Eric Goldwyn, and Elif Ensari as the panelists, and Matt Yglesias as the moderator
What: a webinar in which we release our construction cost report on the Green Line Extension in Boston, which is the first of our six cases. We will also discuss our construction cost database, but the primary topic will bee why the construction costs of GLX were so high.
Where: online, click on the RSVP button in this link to register. And we’re already mildly overbooked, with a capacity of 500 against 600 online registrants – usually the yield for such events, like Modernizing Rail, is only 1/2-2/3, so I’m not too worried, but please show up on time.
When: tomorrow, 2020-12-09, at 17:00 Central Europe Time, or 11:00 Eastern Standard Time.
Why: because we’d like to promote our preliminary findings. This should be interesting to people interested in public transportation, state capacity, and project management.
Update 12-11: here is the video. And no, I am not sick, my sniffling was pretty random.
Myth: American cities have undergone inversion, in which poorer people are more suburban than richer people.
Reality: at least on the level of people commuting to city center, wages generally rise with commute distance. In particular, the phenomenon of supercommuters – people traveling very long distances to work – is a middle- and high-income experience more than a low-income one. This is true even in Los Angeles, a Sunbelt city with more of a drive-until-you-qualify history than the Northeastern cities. The only exception among the largest US cities is San Francisco, and there too, the poorest distance is 5-10 km out of the Financial District.
All data in this post comes from OnTheMap and is as of 2017, the latest year for which there is data. The methodology is to define a central business district, generally a looser one than in past post but still much smaller than the entirety of the city, and look at people who work in it and live within annuli of increasing radius from a specific central point within the CBD. OnTheMap puts jobs into three income buckets, the boundary points being $1,250 and $3,333 per month; we look at the proportion of jobs in the highest category.
I report the annuli in kilometers, but technically they’re in multiples of 3.11 miles, which is very close to 5 km.
City
New York
Los Angeles
Chicago
Washington
San Francisco
Boston
CBD
3rd, 60th, 9th, 30th
I-10, I-110, river
Congress, I-90, Grand
6th, R, river, E
Broadway, Van Ness, 101, 16th
I-90, water, Arlington
Point
Grand Central
7th/Metro Center
State/Madison
Farragut
Market/2nd
Downtown Crossing
Jobs
1,017,175
310,111
558,379
249,707
441,104
241,775
40k+ %
68.7%
68.8%
70.4%
69.8%
73.2%
71.7%
0-5 km
211,910
22,557
67,348
56,578
86,845
41,912
40k+ %
79.8%
44.6%
84%
75.1%
76.6%
70.5%
5-10 km
205,215
38,986
91,332
56,154
67,063
52,499
40k+ %
63.6%
53.2%
70.1%
61.5%
68.3%
64.3%
10-15 km
172,117
42,391
88,604
38,233
49,111
30,619
40k+ %
51.9%
65.1%
58.8%
66.2%
73.6%
73.3%
15-20 km
101,543
41,229
67,620
23,589
35,692
20,444
40k+ %
62%
71.3%
67.3%
69.8%
74.5%
76.8%
20-30 km
92,871
53,809
68,571
27,921
40,170
29,271
40k+ %
74.4%
75.6%
73.5%
75.8%
76.9%
79%
30-40 km
61,236
33,051
49,374
15,568
33,395
17,511
40k+ %
81.1%
77.6%
76.1%
78%
80.1%
77.8%
40-50 km
37,931
17,561
41,745
8,403
20,509
12,738
40k+ %
82.1%
81%
78.7%
82%
82.4%
78.7%
50-60 km
26,746
13,853
25,872
3,346
15,981
9,321
40k+ %
81.3%
82.3%
74.9%
76.7%
78.7%
76.9%
60-70 km
21,860
8,561
14,940
2,596
14,682
6,101
40k+ %
80.3%
83.6%
74.5%
76.9%
73.3%
71.5%
70-80 km
14,007
7,720
5,471
1,444
9,151
4,757
40k+ %
77.8%
79.7%
72.4%
79.3%
69.8%
74.2%
In all six metro areas above except Los Angeles, the income in the innermost 5-km circle is higher than in the 5-10 km annulus. In Chicago that inner radius is in fact the wealthiest, but in Boston it’s below average, and in New York, Washington, and San Francisco it is poorer than wide swaths of suburbia. There is always a large region of poverty in an urban radius, which is roughly the inner 15 km in Los Angeles, the 5-20 km annulus in New York, the 10-15 km radius in Chicago, and so on.
This of course does not take directionality into account. In Chicago, it is especially important – to the north, there is wealth at all radii, and to the south, there is mostly poverty. In contrast, in New York directionality is less important, and it is in a way the purest example of the poverty donut model, in which the center is rich, the suburbs are rich, and the in-between neighborhoods are poor, without wedges that form favored quarters or wedges that form ill-favored quarters.
The importance of this is that because the inner and outer limits of the poverty donut are slowly moving outward, there is talk of suburbanization of poverty – or, rather, there was in the decade leading up to corona, but I suspect it will return once mass vaccination happens. However, even now, American cities are not Paris or Stockholm, where wealth mostly decreases as distance from the center increases, even though both cities have intense directionality (rich northeast, poor south and west in Stockholm, and the exact opposite in Paris). The poorest place remains the inner city, just beyond the near-downtown zone at what I would call biking range from city center jobs if any American city had even semi-decent biking infrastructure.
This contrasts with various schemes to subsidize suburbs that assume poverty has already suburbanized. Massachusetts, where even in the inner 5 km radius the $40,000+ share is below average, has a concept called Gateway Cities, defined to mean roughly “low- and lower-middle-income cities that aren’t Boston.” Of those, about one, Chelsea, is inner-urban, while the others include Springfield and various ex-industrial cities that are generally no poorer than Boston and lie amidst suburban wealth, like Lowell and Haverhill. Based on the idea that Massachusetts poverty is in the Gateway Cities and not in Boston itself, it justifies vast place-based subsidies that mostly go to people who are decently well-off while Dorchester has to beg for slightly better public transportation to Downtown Boston.
In New York, one likewise hears more about the poverty of Far Rockaway than about that of Harlem. There’s this widespread belief that Harlem is no longer poor, that it’s fully gentrified because there’s one bagel shop on 116th Street that caters to a mostly white middle-class clientele. This is related to the stereotype of the Real New Yorker, weaponized so that the cop or the construction worker who is a third-generation New Yorker and lives at the outermost edge of the city is an inherently more moral person than the Manhattanite or the immigrant and is the very definition of the working class while earning $90,000 a year. This goes double if this Real New Yorker lives on Long Island, usually with some catechism about how the city is too expensive even though the suburbs are about equally costly. The one place-based policy that would benefit the city, having the state integrate its schools with those of the generally better-resourced suburbs, is unthinkable.
It’s notable that this discourse that overrates how poor American suburbia is comes exclusively from people who tend to sympathize with the poor. People with Thatcherist attitudes toward the poor abound in the United States, and tend to correctly believe that the inner city is poorer than the suburbs, and if anything to overrate the extent of urban poverty. In either case, the conclusion groups of Americans reach is that the government must subsidize the suburbs further; all else is just motivated reasoning.
In reality, if one has the Thatcherist or Old Tory moralistic attitude that poverty is a personal failure then, with reservations, one should continue believing the large American city is inherently immoral. But if one has the attitude that poverty is a social failure that is solvable with social programs, then one must realize that there is more of this in central cities than in their suburbs, even faraway suburbs that are called drive-until-you-qualify because they are slightly poorer than some other suburbs, and therefore if anti-poverty programs must be place-based then they should be urban.
There’s a big difference between the various regional rail proposals I’ve made for New York and similar examples in Paris and Berlin: the New York maps go a lot further, and incorporate the entirety of regional rail, whereas the RER and the Berlin S-Bahn both focus on shorter-range, higher-frequency lines, with separate trains for longer-range service, generally without through-running. A number of New York-area rail advocates have asked me why do this, often suggesting shorter-range alternatives. Yonah Freemark made a draft proposal many years ago in which through-running trains went as far as New Brunswick, White Plains, and a few other suburbs at that range, on the model of the RER. But I believe my modification of the system used here and in Paris is correct for New York as well as the other American cities I’ve proposed regional rail in.
The reason boils down to a track shortage making it difficult to properly segregate S-Bahn/RER-type service from RegionalBahn/Transilien-type service. These are two different things in Paris, Berlin, Hamburg, and Munich, and Crossrail in London is likewise planned to run separately from longer-range trains, but in Zurich and on Thameslink in London these blend together. Separate operations require four-track mainlines without any two-track narrows at inconvenient places; otherwise, it’s better to blend. And in New York, there are no usable four-track mainlines. Philadelphia and Chicago have them, but not on any corridor where it’s worth running a separate RegionalBahn, which is fundamentally a short-range intercity train, and not a suburban train.
Scale maps
Here is a map of the Berlin S-Bahn (in black) and U-Bahn (in red) overlaid on the New York metropolitan area.
The reach of the S-Bahn here is about comparable to the size of New York City, not that of the metropolitan area. Even taking into account that Berlin is a smaller city, the scope is different. Service to suburbs that are not directly adjacent to Berlin the way Potsdam is is provided by hourly RegionalBahn trains, which do not form a neat network of a frequent north-south and a frequent east-west line through city center.
Here is the same map with the Paris Métro and RER; a branch of the RER D runs off the map but not much, and the RER E branches going east, still within the map box, go further but only every half hour off-peak.
The Parisian Transilien lines are not shown; they all terminate at the legacy stations, and a few have frequent trunks, generally within the scope of the box, but they don’t form axes like the east-west RER A and north-south RER B.
So what I’m proposing is definitely a difference, since I’ve advocated for through-running everything in New York, including trains going from Trenton to New Haven. Why?
Four-track lines and track segregation
In most of Berlin, the infrastructure exists to keep local and longer-range rail traffic separate. The Stadtbahn has four tracks, two for the S-Bahn and two for all other traffic. The North-South Tunnel has only two tracks, dedicated to S-Bahn service; the construction of Berlin Hauptbahnhof involved building new mainline-only tunnels with four tracks. Generally, when the S-Bahn takes over a longer line going out of Berlin, the line has four tracks, or else it is not needed for intercity service. The most glaring exception is the Berlin-Dresden line – the historic line is two-track and given over to the S-Bahn, requiring intercity trains to go around and waste 20 minutes, hence an ongoing project to four-track the line to allow intercity trains to go directly.
In Paris, there are always track paths available. Among the six main intercity terminals, the least amount of infrastructure is four-track approaches, at Gare de Lyon and Gare d’Austerlitz, with two tracks given over to the RER and two to everything else. Of note, the entirety of the Austerlitz network has been given to the RER, as has nearly all of the Lyon network, which is why the lines go so far to the south. The other terminals have more: Saint-Lazare and Nord each have 10 tracks, making segregation very easy. Only subsidiary regional-only stations have two-track approaches, and those are entirely given over to the RER, forming the eastern part of the RER A, the southern part of the RER B, and the western part of the RER C.
New York has a shortage of approach tracks. The reason for this is that historically the mainlines mostly terminated outside Manhattan, so the four-track approaches only went as far as Newark, Jersey City, etc. The LIRR has a four-track mainline into Penn Station from the east, which is why I’ve advocated for some segregation, but even that should eventually involve the express trains via East Side Access through-running to New Jersey; see the second map in this post.
On the New Jersey side there are plans for four tracks with new tunnels across the Hudson, but two tracks have to be shared with intercity trains, and there’s no easy way to neatly separate service into two S-Bahn tracks and two RegionalBahn tracks. In the short run, two of these tracks would have to include trains diverting west to the Morris and Essex Lines, which have a three-track main and therefore cannot segregate their own locals and expresses. In the long run, with the M&E system given its own tunnel across the Hudson, you could theoretically do two local and two express tracks, but that runs into a different issue, which is that east of Penn Station, there are two paths to New Rochelle, both of which have local stops.
The issue of having two paths between the city center station and an important suburban junction, both with local stations, is also a problem in London. North of the Thames, most mainlines are at least four-track, making segregation easy, hence the plans for Crossrail. The only exception is the Lea Valley lines. But in South London, lines are two-track – historically, railways that needed more capacity did not widen one line to four tracks but instead built a parallel two-track lines with its own local stations, often arranging the local stations in a loop. The result is a morass of merging and diverging lines reducing capacity, and London is only slowly disentangling it. In either case, it makes segregation difficult; Thameslink can’t just take over the slow lines the way Crossrail is, and therefore there are Thameslink trains going as far as Bedford and Brighton.
What does this mean?
It’s somewhat unusual for New York to get a regional rail network in which every train, even ones going to distinct cities like New Haven, is part of a central system of through-running. But it’s not unheard of – Thameslink works like this, so does the Zurich S-Bahn, and so does Israel’s national network with its Tel Aviv through-running – and it’s an artifact of a real limitation of the region’s mainline rail system.
But this should not be viewed as a negative. New York really does have suburban sprawl stretching tens of kilometers out. It should have suburban rail accompanying all these suburbs, and wherever possible, it should run on a schedule that is useful to people who are not just 1950s-style 9-to-5 commuters. Moreover, New York lacks either the vast terminals of Paris or the Ringbahn’s mushroom concept, which means trains from outer suburbs have nowhere to go but Manhattan, so they might as well be turned over into a through-running system.