Update on the Grapevine (Hoisted from Comments)

Put a fork in the idea of saving a few billions of dollars on California High-Speed Rail by switching from the Palmdale alignment to the I-5 alignment through the Grapevine. The HSR Authority conducted a new study and found that, after fiddling with the parameters to create the maximally bad result for the Grapevine alignment, the Grapevine alignment does not save money. Go to page 39-40 to see how convoluted the studied Grapevine option is. This is driven not by geotechnical considerations, but by political ones: the owners of Tejon Ranch, which covers much of the area of study, oppose HSR through their property. Even so, the base cost of the Grapevine is $13.5 billion, versus $15 billion for Palmdale; this difference was papered over by fudging a risk adjustment factor. As commenter Jon explains,

Having skimmed through the study, a few points come to mind:

1) The length of the I-5 route has increased largely due to the requirement to diverge from the current route east of Bakersfield rather than bypass Bakersfield to the west. I’m sure this requirement is driven by a desire to get the Frseno – Bakersfield EIR/EIS certified in time to start construction on the ICS. What would the effect of a west Bakersfield bypass be on the cost and travel time of an I-5 route?

2) The cheapest and fastest I-5 route bisected the proposed Tejon Ranch, but the study didn’t take this route forward to detailed analysis. Instead they analyzed a ‘considerably more expensive and slower’ route which cuts right through Lebec, in order to avoid the ‘significant cost and schedule risk’ involved in bisecting the Tejon Ranch. How fast and expensive would the I-5 route through the Tejon Ranch have been? How difficult would it be to permit this route?

3) Also the risk adjustment to account for the 5% design- this seems to be an obvious fudge. You can see everything they changed in Appendix B. What is the justification for increasing the risk allocation for real estate from 20% to 40%, for example?

Despite the potentially large cost difference, the HSR Authority is loathe to use eminent domain, even when the cost is much smaller than the alternative. Something similar happened in the Central Valley, when the initial plan to hew to existing transportation corridors became untenable as it became clear it would require many viaducts and grade separations, and only after value engineering has the cost overrun been limited by running around unserved cities. With a less positive result, it’s happened repeatedly on the Peninsula, for example with the substandard San Bruno grade separation project.

The problem here is that no value engineering is possible unless the I-5 option is kept open. Thus it’s important for us as good transit activists to demand that the HSR Authority engineer both options to learn more about the risk, allowing eventually for the cheapest and most reliable option to be picked.

Little Things That Matter: Railroad Junctions

One underrated difference between countries is how multi-tracked railroad junctions look. In France, double-tracked regional lines have grade-separated junctions that ensure no crossing oncoming traffic. For a plethora of examples, consult the RER track map and look at any bifurcation. Looking at Google Earth, the same is true near Tokyo. This is standard rapid transit practice anywhere I know of, and Paris and Tokyo both treat their regional rail systems like urban rapid transit.

In the US, this is not true. Even important, high-traffic mainline junctions are often flat – see for examples the Main Line-Hempstead Line junction on the LIRR (Queens Interlocking), and the Hudson-Harlem junction on Metro-North (Mo Interlocking). The major junctions involving the Northeast Corridor tend to be better, fortunately. Harold, the LIRR/NEC junction, is already grade-separated from oncoming traffic, and the current grade-separation project is only for same-direction traffic; and the junctions in New Jersey are grade-separated. The Kearny Connection splits the problem in half – it is grade-separated for NEC trains but requires Morris and Essex trains in opposite directions to cross each other at grade. However, even for NEC trains a few major problems remain, most notably Shell Interlocking between the Northeast Corridor and Metro-North in New Rochelle.

I suspect the problem is that double-tracked lines in the US are not consistently thought of as having one line in each direction. The arrival of centralized traffic control (CTC) has made wrong-direction running easy; some railroads ripped their second tracks, and the commuter lines that remained double-tracked freely run trains wrong-way during weekends or (as is the case on the Worcester Line) when there are freight trains on the line. At a few places, four-tracked segments on running track connect to two tracks in nonstandard ways: for example, at Providence Station, three of the four platform tracks merge into the southbound running track. The concept of having one track per direction and no crossing oncoming traffic, which is standard on the subway, doesn’t really apply to commuter rail, leading to scheduling problems.

In New York, there’s no alternative to grade-separating the worst junctions, including Mo, Queens, the Kearny Connection, and the unnamed Far Rockaway/Long Beach and Ronkonkoma/Port Jefferson junctions. Although frequent train service exists with flat junctions, the schedule is irregular and unreliable, and has few reverse-peak trains. Fortunately, this is a problem for commuter trains more than for intercity trains, for which schedule adherence is more important.

In Boston, the NEC itself has flat junctions at all of its branches. Fortunately, there are alternatives to concrete. The Franklin/Providence junction requires Franklin Line trains merging onto the NEC to cross oncoming Providence Line trains at grade, but lets them continue onto the Fairmount Line without conflict. Since the Fairmount Line is getting some investment and more frequency is under discussion, having additional trains serve the line is a net benefit, and all Franklin Line trains should go through Fairmount. The Needham Line branches at-grade, at a more constrained location, but there are plans to connect it to the Orange Line anyway, and much of its geography is suitable for subway service more than for a regional rail branch. This leaves the Stoughton Line, for which there’s no alternative, but fortunately Canton Junction is not a very constrained location and the junction is simple.

When Should HSR Serve New Urban Stations?

Greenfield high-speed rail lines frequently serve new stations rather than legacy stations; the TGV network is famous for this, and the discussion of whether to place intermediate stations in the city or on the outskirts has arisen in many reports and studies on the subject. What is less commonly discussed is what to do at the main urban stations. More often than not these are the legacy stations, but there are several exceptions.

Those are not the infamous beet-field stations in France, but something quite different – they’re in different neighborhoods from the older stations, but are still in dense urban landscape, often (but not always) as close to downtown as the older stations. Trains do not pass them at very high speed, so they’re chosen primarily to make through-service easier, in cities whose legacy stations are terminals or otherwise difficult to connect through. Indeed, I do not know of a single case in which such new stations are intended to serve as terminals – they are either through-stations from the start, or terminals intended to be used as through-stations with a later extension.

Example 1. Shin-Osaka is located just outside central Osaka, about 4 kilometers from Osaka Station. Osaka Station is a through-station, but there are sharp curves from it to the legacy Tokaido Main Line at both ends, and also there was not enough room to build additional tracks for dedicated Shinkansen use. Since the goal was subsequent through-service west of Osaka, it was easier to build a new station just outside the CBD, at the intersection of the Tokaido Shinkansen with the Tokaido Main Line (now Kyoto Line). The station is also connected to one subway line, which goes to Osaka Station and beyond. Although there has been development near the station, it is a secondary station, with far more traffic at Osaka; a transit-oriented CBD is too compact and dependent on a huge subway network to move so easily.

Example 2. Lyon Part-Dieu was built specifically for the TGV, since the old station, Perrache, was at a poor location for connection to the high-speed line. Part-Dieu is located in a busy neighborhood area of Lyon and has seen ample development, and the Lyon Metro, which is not much older than the LGV Sud-Est, serves it from multiple directions. In addition, commuter trains have been diverted to Part-Dieu from Perrache, so that now the station is France’s busiest mainline station outside Paris. Despite its use as a through-station, the construction of further LGV segments south of Lyon in the 1990s made it somewhat of a terminus for TGVs, while through-trains skip the city at full speed on a greenfield alignment to the east of the urban area or stop along the way, near the airport.

Example 3. Lille’s legacy train station, Lille-Flandres, is a terminus. This was unacceptable for TGV service, not least because the main draw of building a line to Lille was the onward connection to the Channel Tunnel, which was constructed at the same time. Thus, a new station was built a few hundred meters from Lille-Flandres, on the land of a former helicopter base; because of the city’s new position at the junction of high-speed lines to Paris, London, and Brussels, the station was named Lille-Europe. Like Shin-Osaka and unlike Part-Dieu, Lille-Europe is primarily a high-speed train station; Lille-Flandres is much busier (it is the second busiest provincial French station, after Part-Dieu). This is despite the fact that Lille has extensively redeveloped, using the TGV as a catalyst.

Example 4. Because of difficulty reaching Barcelona’s main station, Sagrera, the AVE is initially serving a terminal station a few kilometers to the west, Sants. A new track connection to Sagrera was built, in order to allow full through-service to points north and east of Barcelona. In this case, the choice of a new station was a temporary measure allowing the line to open earlier, rather than a change in alignment.

What all of these examples have in common is different from the usual conception of building new HSR stations, both in an outskirt setting and in a CBD setting. None of these stations has been about digging greenfield tunnels under city center – indeed Shin-Osaka was explicitly about avoiding such tunnels, and Sants was built as a way to allow service to open before such a tunnel were finished. None involves a station cavern; Lille-Europe is above ground, despite its CBD location. None is an urban prestige project.

Indeed, the decision to build a new underground station complex under Marseille’s terminal station, Saint-Charles, is one of many contributing to the very high projected cost of the LGV PACA project linking Marseille (and Paris) with Nice. A though-station very close to downtown exists, and an underground option there was judged slightly cheaper in an alternatives analysis, but all currently considered scenarios involve an underground station at Saint-Charles.

Another thing to observe is that neither Japan nor France compromised on station location in the capital, but at the same time neither built extensive infrastructure for it. None of the Paris RER lines or of the TGV projects has included any provision for building a single central Paris station for trains in all direction; such a station would require a large cavern with multiple tunnels, and the space and money for such tunnels is far more valuable for local transit use. Likewise, Japan has had no trouble cutting back legacy intercity and long-range commuter trains to bring the Shinkansen to Tokyo Station, but stops short of building a new cavern for it. The most it has done is reserve space at Shinjuku for a future tunnel for use by the Joetsu Shinkansen, requiring new subway lines that go nearby to be built deeper.

The upshot in the US is that the emphasis should be on functional train station locations, rather than on the most central locations. In particular, the Amtrak Vision‘s plan to bring intercity trains to Market East and Charles Center through new tunnels should be shelved in favor of the existing 30th Street and Baltimore Penn Station. In addition, a new track connection between Grand Central and Penn Station should be used only by commuter trains, which need it far more than intercity ones (it would also allow tighter curves, saving on expensive Midtown land acquisition), mirroring the fact that no TGVs serve Chatelet-Les Halles. If the example stations in this post are any guide, any Manhattan location south of 60th Street would work for New York’s primary train station, and Penn Station’s location is as good as any.

In California, what this means is not surprising: converting Los Angeles’s Union Station configuration from terminal to through-station is paramount. In addition, at the Bay Area end, it’s fine to end high-speed trains at the existing 4th and King terminal rather than Transbay, until future money for the final tunnel is committed. In the longer run, in San Diego, although the existing Santa Fe depot should be used if possible, another urban location would not be hurtful as long as it had some transit accessibility and was in a walkable location.

Transit Alternatives to the Tappan Zee Widening

Cap’n Transit is virtually alone in the transit blogosphere in opposing the Tappan Zee Bridge widening and replacement. Unfortunately, merely opposing a highway project, expensive as it is, is not enough; as we’ve seen in the failure of the ballot proposition to ban a highway tunnel in Seattle, opponents of highway expansion need to make it concrete and clear what transit alternatives there are. In the case of the Tappan Zee specifically, alternatives exist, but serve different markets, and it’s necessary to explain why the market that the Tappan Zee serves is not the most important to the region.

I propose a regional rail system instead, focusing on serving Rockland County and perhaps a few centers in Orange County. There are multiple lines crisscrossing Rockland County, with limited or no freight traffic, passing through old town centers that would make good regional rail stops and connecting to good alignments in North Jersey. For a regionwide perspective there are my original regional rail proposal and my more recent focus on connectivity from North Jersey to Lower Manhattan, but the important thing for the purposes of Rockland County is the question of which lines could be used. The Erie Main Line only goes to Suffern, but could collect passengers from the western parts of Orange County; the Northern Branch, including an abandoned northern end, goes as far north as Nyack; the Pascack Valley Line was abandoned north of Spring Valley but has an intact right-of-way as far north as Haverstraw; the West Shore Line goes north to Albany and has moderate freight traffic, easily accommodated in the off-peak if double-tracking is restored. There are so many options that the main question is which to activate just to maintain adequate frequency.

The main difference with any Tappan Zee proposal is that the existing rail lines go north-south, whereas the Tappan Zee is east-west. Fortunately, most existing movement is north-south. As can be confirmed by the 2000 census, Rockland and Orange Counties’ commute market toward Westchester and other suburbs accessed by the bridge is quite small: 18,000 to Westchester and Fairfield. The volume of commuters from those two counties to Bergen and Passaic Counties is somewhat larger (22,000), and that to New York City more so (27,000 to Manhattan, 14,000 to the other boroughs). And traffic over the bridge since 2000 has stalled.

Not only is the north-south or northwest-southeast market bigger than the east-west market, but also it uses the Tappan Zee when it could be diverted if there were alternatives. A breakdown of travel on the bridge reveals that 16% of eastbound travel is to the Bronx and another 15% is to the other four boroughs and Long Island; this could be done competitively by various transit options.

Thus, a transit option that emphasizes north-south connectivity and goes to Manhattan through Bergen and Passaic Counties is going to serve more people than adding more east-west connectivity. It could serve far more if North Jersey jobs clustered in Paterson, Hackensack, and other old city centers, but in fact they’re diffuse. It’s unreasonable to assume significant commercial transit-oriented development in North Jersey, though a few jobs in Paterson could still be captured; however, jobs in Manhattan, Brooklyn, and Queens could be served well.

Finally, to serve Bronx and Upper Manhattan jobs from both North Jersey and Rockland County, the trains should be combined with good bus service across the GWB. For example, bus lanes on Route 4 could be a strong start, especially if the trains are timed to connect to the buses. More speculatively, there’s a subway bellmouth allowing an extension of the C along the GWB, and relative to the cost of tunneling it should be inexpensive to extend the C as an elevated line toward Paterson over Route 4; the drawback is that the C is slow and would poorly serve the Bronx.

Although Rockland County is very sprawling, it has just enough old cities to anchor regional rail at the residential end. The effect is magnified if we can assume some TOD – for example, developing over the many parking lots currently in place in Nyack near the legacy Erie station – but as with commercial TOD, this is desirable but not very likely with the current political structure. Fortunately, American commuter rail works very well as a shuttle that extends auto-dependent commutes into cities that have no room for more cars; as a narrow alternative to constrained highways, it often succeeds, and would be a no-brainer compared to a bridge as expensive as the Tappan Zee.

The cost of reviving and electrifying the four lines proposed in my regional rail post (Erie Main, Pascack Valley, West Shore, and Northern Branch) is quite small compared to either the cost of bringing them to Manhattan or that of rebuilding the Tappan Zee Bridge. The cost of bringing the lines to Manhattan is substantial, but done right it would be much lower than the Tappan Zee Bridge’s $8.3 billion excluding any transit component.

If costs could be brought down, a new crossing, slightly farther north of the existing bridge, could work well for rail. The transit mode selection report discusses commuter rail on the new bridge, and the concept would be similar except that there should be more stations to serve local traffic better. A rail-only bridge would leave the Hudson Line north of Tarrytown, allowing west-of-Hudson commuters to access this job center and also ensuring no loss of frequency to the station, and then cross to Nyack. It would have to be underground in Nyack because the Palisades rise too steeply from the water, and would surface just west of the urban area. If all trains serving the line are EMUs, rather than diesels or even dual-mode locomotives, then the grade could be sharp enough to limit tunneling to the urban area of Nyack; the TMS report, which only considers diesels, proposes 2 miles (3.2 km) of tunneling, but EMUs climbing 4% grades could cut this by more than half.

The advantage of the east-west option is that it would serve Westchester jobs; while the commute market from Rockland and Orange Counties to Westchester is as mentioned not large, it clusters along I-287, especially in White Plains, and is thus somewhat more rail-serviceable. In addition, although the chance of commercial TOD is small everywhere in the US, it is larger in Tarrytown and White Plains than in Paterson and Hackensack.

On the other hand, if the costs could be brought down, they would be lower for everything, including highways. The same factors that cause transit construction costs to be so high in New York (namely, overstaffing, and poor contracting practices) apply to highways equally. In particular, the decision about what mode to favor should only weakly depend on cost, since relative costs both within transit modes and between cars and transit are not too different from in lower-cost countries.

To cut costs to a minimum while still providing acceptable first-phase service, the initial network could include only the lines that could be brought to Secaucus, with some track modifications near the station allowing Erie trains to terminate at the station parallel to the Northeast Corridor tracks; this still involves a fair amount of concrete pouring, but much less than a new tunnel to Manhattan, and the transfer could be made as convenient as that at Jamaica. In addition, trains could be mixed and matched: that is, to let a few of the Erie trains serve Manhattan directly, some Northeast Corridor or Morris and Essex trains could be cut to Secaucus. The main disadvantage is that no such option is possible with the West Shore Line and Northern Branch, and so it would be more useful in the western part of Rockland County than in the eastern part.

The selling point of the regional rail alternative is that, despite job sprawl, Rockland County residents are still more likely to need to travel to Manhattan than to Westchester. Thus, the promise of a one-seat ride to Manhattan on frequent train service, or at least a two-seat ride with the same quality of transfer offered to Long Islanders, could carry some political weight. One does not drive into New York out of love of driving; one drives into New York out of necessity, and making this less necessary could reduce some of the political will to spend billions more than required on widening a bridge.

Why Moynihan Station Has Negative Transportation Value

Amtrak has been making noises again about the need for Moynihan Station as a replacement concourse for Penn Station for Amtrak travelers, but makes it clear it does not want to pay almost anything for it. While former Amtrak President David Gunn withdrew from the project on the grounds that it would not increase track capacity, and another former president criticized the project for the same reason, today’s Amtrak is interested in the prospects of not sharing concourse space with commuter trains.

The irony is that what Amtrak perceives as the value of Moynihan Station is actually negative value. Penn Station already has a problem with concourse integration – different concourses have different train arrival boards, and different ticket-vending machines. The need to change concourses lengthens access time, in my experience by a minute or two. Right now, Amtrak has just gotten $450 million to increase top speed in New Jersey from 135 mph to 160 mph for a 24-mile stretch (150 under current regulations), for a time saving of 100 seconds (64 if only 150 mph is possible) minus acceleration and deceleration time. From my perspective as a passenger, the minute or two I lose every time I need to change concourses at Penn Station is worse than a minute or two spent on a train.

Separating the concourses completely is even worse when it comes to access and egress times. In comments on Second Avenue Sagas, Jim (who comments here as well) says that the move one block to the west is not too bad for intercity travelers, because to get to Midtown hotels, people would take the E anyway. However, people who live in New York and wish to travel elsewhere, or people who visit but do not stay at Midtown hotels, are likelier to take the 1/2/3, and Amtrak as well as local Moynihan Station boosters want them (us) to need to travel an extra crosstown block to travel. That’s 3 extra minutes of access time; at current costs, how many extra billions would have to spent to save them on the train?

Even the stated purpose of Moynihan Station, bringing people to the city in grandeur, fails. The building is a former post office rather than a train station; its former main entrance (still leading to the post office – thanks to Jim for the clarification) requires people to climb stairs. There are planned to be step-free entrances, but those remove much of the neo-classical grandeur.

From the perspective of intercity rail passengers, the biggest problem with Penn Station is the tracks and track access. The platforms are narrow, and visibility is obscured by columns, staircases, escalators, and elevators. But even what exists is not used to its fullest extent. Although Amtrak checks all passengers’ tickets on board, it also conducts a prior check at the station, funneling all passengers through just one access point and lengthening the boarding process. It’s possible to go around the check by boarding from the lower concourse, but Amtrak trains are not posted there, requiring passengers to loiter on the upper concourse, see what track the train arrives on (information which is typically posted only 15 minutes before departure), and scramble. As a result of the convoluted boarding process, Regional trains dwell 15 minutes at Penn Station, and Acela trains dwell 10 minutes. Many of those minutes could be saved by just better station throughput.

If more infrastructure is needed, it is not a separate passenger concourse, but better platforms and platform access. Some of the platforms – namely, the southern ones, hosting New Jersey Transit trains but not Amtrak trains – have too few access points, and require additional staircases and escalators.

More radically, platforms may need to be widened, at the expense of the number of tracks. This is one of the advantages of regional rail through-running, though in reality, even today clearing a full rush-hour commuter train is fast enough (about 1.5-2 minutes on the LIRR) that at least the LIRR could stand to have tracks paved over and still have enough terminal capacity for its current needs; New Jersey Transit, which has fewer tracks and trains with worse door placement and smaller vestibules, may have problems, but Amtrak doesn’t use its regular tracks because they do not connect eastward.

Amtrak’s history with Moynihan Station is especially telling about the company’s priorities. Clearly, Moynihan is not a priority – that’s why Amtrak says it has no money for it, and that’s why Gunn removed it from the company’s list of projects. The biggest supporters of Moynihan are local boosters and developers, who want the extra retail space. The planned expenditure on the project is $14 billion: $2 billion in public money for the train station, the rest in private money for development around it. The family of Daniel Moynihan is a strong backer of a monument named after the late Senator. It is not surprising that a project whose benefit goes entirely to power brokers and not to transportation users is backed by the locals the most: Amtrak and federal agencies may be dysfunctional, but they are models of efficiency compared to the local governments in the US.

However, Amtrak is incapable of saying no to monuments and megaprojects that it thinks will benefit it. More crucially, it will argue for their construction. Its symbiotic relationship with local governments seems to be, we’ll support your boondoggles if you support ours. Today’s Amtrak is not Gunn’s Amtrak, but the Amtrak that fired Gunn for refusing to defer maintenance in order to boost on-paper profitability.

Moynihan Station represents a failing of not only transportation planning, but also urban planning. More than any other project in New York, it brings back my original analogy between today’s urban boosterism and the modernist suburbanism of the first two-thirds of the 20th century. The project’s backers tell us a story: Penn Station was a magnificent edifice destroyed by thoughtless planners, and now we must repair the damage and restore style to passenger railroad travel. Since they base their conception of infrastructure on moral and aesthetic claims, which always seem to coincide with what gives them more money and kudos, they do not care whether the project is beneficial to users, and find the preexisting situation self-evidently bad.

Because the argument for Moynihan is entirely about the need for a grand, morally good projects, the backers spurn incremental improvement of what already exists, finding it so repulsive that it must be replaced no matter what. This is quite similar to how some proponents of suburbanization opposed improving tenements on the grounds that it would detract from the purpose of razing them and sending their residents out to single-family houses.

For example, both Moynihan backers and New Jersey Transit have complained about lack of space for passenger circulation at Penn Station; in reality, IRUM‘s George Haikalis has computed that about half of the lower concourse’s space is used for Amtrak back offices and concessions rather than for passenger circulation. In reality, Penn Station’s low ceilings make the station appear cramped, but the concourses are still fairly functional, and even at rush hour the crowding level is normal by the standards of what I’ve seen at Paris’s Gare de Lyon and at Nice’s main station.

This interplay between bad local governance and federal agencies that coddle it is part of what caused Amtrak’s Vision plan to be so bloated. The single worst component, the new tunnels through Philadelphia, appear to come from Amtrak’s belief that the local officials want strict separation of high-speed and commuter train infrastructure, coming from the fact that the locally-designed Penn plan included such tunnels. And in New York, Amtrak’s proposed its own marked-up version of ARC, one that is not too much better than the cavern plan that was under construction. On a smaller scale, the Harold Interlocking separation, primarily a New York State project benefiting commuter rail riders, made it to Amtrak’s list of desired incremental improvements, and is now receiving funding earmarked to high-speed rail.

The only special trait distinguishing Moynihan from those other unnecessary or bloated projects is that it’s harmful to riders, rather than neutral or insufficiently beneficial. The main backers of the project do not care much for transportation users, but Amtrak should. It seems to believe that its passengers want to spend time sitting at its train stations as if they were airline lounges; nowadays, not even air travelers like spending time at airports, which is why such time-saving features as printing boarding passes at home are so popular. The only positive thing to say about the project is that the cost is so high relative to the effect on passengers that the return on investment is very close to zero, rather than the -4% figures seen for long-distance Amtrak projects. And I don’t think that “This project only has an ROI of -0.2%” is a valid argument for construction.

Commuter Rail Speed (Hoisted from Comments)

For commuter rail, even more so than urban transit, there is a tradeoff involving speed, cost, and coverage. Higher speed is useful all else being equal, but all else is frequently not equal. American commuter rail is on average faster than European and East Asian commuter rail, but fails because relative to the distances people travel and the amount of sprawl it must compete with it is quite slow. Because of the need for higher speed, my previous commuter rail modernization proposals have featured average speeds higher than those that are normally found elsewhere.

That said, speed should be increased by means of better rolling stock, adequate maintenance, and better timetable adherence leading to less schedule padding. The American practice of running low-frequency trains from each suburban station expressing to the main city station makes service worse rather than better. Consider the following practices:

In Paris, RER trains are more or less local. There are some trains skipping stops, but in RATP territory (see schedules here), trains will just skip a few stops, rather than running truly limited-stop. In SNCF territory there are some express trains. In addition, the Transilien trains run on legacy routes even in the city, and run express outside it; often they’ll run nonstop between Paris and the terminus of the parallel RER line.

In Berlin, the S-Bahn lines run local. As in Paris, there are regional lines that are separate from the metro-like S-Bahn, and those make fewer stops in the urban core.

In Tokyo, there are local trains and rapid trains. Local trains make all stops. Rapid trains come in several flavors – they only stop at select stations, but sometimes there are several levels of rapid trains (all on the same tracks). The busiest lines have a track pair dedicated to local trains, and a track pair dedicated to express trains, and then there are usually two consistent express patterns, one more express than the other. The local trains (Yamanote, Keihin-Tohoku, Chuo-Sobu) run on dedicated tracks and are very metro-y in their lack of branching, and the rapid trains run on separate lines and look more legacy, just without the brand separation of France and Germany. In addition, there’s less separation of infrastructure.

For example, the Chuo-Sobu Line has local trains running to Mitaka, and the Chuo Rapid Line has trains making limited stops to Mitaka and local stops farther west as well as trains making limited stops all the way, with timed overtakes at the express stations; the express trains’ stopping pattern is consistent. Consult this schedule for details (click on “interval timetable”).

The speed of all of those lines is quite low – for example, the RER A averages 47 km/h between Boissy-Saint-Léger and Saint-Germain-en-Laye. However, this comes from short station spacing, coming from the fact that they serve dense urban areas, with reasonably dense suburbs. The need for speed in Paris is much less than in Boston or even New York. In Paris, 20-30 kilometers out of the city one already leaves the built-up area. Even in Tokyo, a much larger city, Takao, 53 kilometers from Tokyo Station, is near the end of the urban area. In contrast, Providence is 70 kilometers from Boston, and Ronkonkoma is 80 kilometers from Penn Station.

Consensus and Astroturf

Anthony Flint’s article in The Atlantic Cities, which compares Jane Jacobs’ protesting to current Tea Party protests against urban planning, inadvertently unmasks a serious issue in any consensus society. In drawing parallels between the near-riots of the 1960s and those of today, he invites us to look at what giving communities more power has wrought. Although his description of the Tea Party is clearly unsympathetic, he leaves two issues incompletely treated – grassroots activism versus astroturf, and starting versus shutting down discussions – and this gives a feeling of a meander, or at worst a late defense of top-down planning with no civic engagement.

Part of the issue of the attitude toward public debate has already been covered elsewhere. Emily Washington does a good job at demolishing the pretense that the Tea Party is consistently against government intervention, in favor of a view that it supports intervention as long as it’s in favor of what its members consider their kind of people. And far from trying to explain to people why its preference for intervention is better, as Jacobs did in The Death and Life, it prefers to yell: see, for example, how it acts in the East Bay.

But the issue of fake grassroots campaigns is as important. Although liberals should be wary of carelessly dismissing the Tea Party as merely a brand for the Koch brothers’ lobbying, it is a general fact that people who perceive themselves as the normals tend to think they speak for everyone when they do not. The Lower Manhattan Expressway really was unpopular in most of the West Village. How could it be otherwise in a neighborhood where a large majority of households did not even own cars? Jacobs, in other words, really was speaking for the community. The same is not true of people who think themselves the silent majority; going back to the East Bay example, after the local Tea Party leader had her tantrum, people informally voted on their priorities in urban planning, and urban priorities like controlling pollution came out on top whereas big houses with big yards came out at the bottom.

Fortunately, formal democratic governance can also reduce the influence of a pernicious majority. For example, the referendum process could be made binding, and more long-term. It’s unthinkable that a governor elected by a bare majority of voters can unilaterally cancel a long-term infrastructure investment without a referendum. In Germany, when the Stuttgart21 disaster led to a state government led by the anti-Stuttgart21 Greens, the new coalition did not act as Rick Scott did. Not only was the Greens’ approach more responsible – they put forth a counter-plan and hired Swiss railroad experts to help – but also they put the cancellation to a referendum, and when the cancellation lost, they accepted the result. And in Switzerland, the referendum process tends to lead to continuity of policy, rather than to the situation in the US, in which the referendum process means that groups will put their preferred policy on the ballot every two years until it passes, and then lock it in so that it cannot be repealed. Although in principle the California governance system looks like direct democracy, in practice it has as much to do with it as Putin’s managed democracy has to do with actual democracy. But insofar as consensus democracy was attempted in the East Bay, the Tea Party disruptors lost.

Of course, merely dismissing the Tea Party as a noisy minority is not enough. The importance of this episode is that consensus governance is vulnerable to this kind of astroturf, or even an independent community of true believers who think they represent many more people than they actually do. On issues that have a clear expert consensus, you won’t find many defenders of consensus governance. Voting on science education means that some school boards will support creationism (not for consensus reasons, but for religious ones). There is an entire movement dedicated to restoring top-down social control, whose leaders come from a background in science popularization that really does boil down to transmitting the experts’ conclusions to the masses.

And yet, urban planning is not evolutionary biology. The need for consensus comes from the fact that planners have a history of getting things wrong in a disastrous fashion, and often of being upended by laypeople like Jacobs. Authoritarian planning will treat entire classes of people as problems to be solved, and house them in a series of projects modeled after the modern prison system: project towers, group homes, low-rise projects, supervised releases to suburbia. Giving people this power over others and hoping that the people in power will be wise is wishful thinking; one might as well support absolute monarchy.

Thus, there is no way to both have a good governance mechanism and prevent people from staging revolts for wrong reasons. A democracy will sometimes vote the wrong people into power; democratic urban planning will let itself be disrupted by a group of organized radicals. In both cases, the change in power should not spell the end of democracy; the ousted side routinely regroups and wins later in national bipartisan politics, and regularly has some input about government in national multiparty politics. Maybe all cities need is to treat their planning process with the same respect that countries treat their legislative process.

Staten Island Rapid Transit

The great missing piece of New York’s rail network, and the most controversial of any of my proposals, is Staten Island. Connected to New Jersey by the B&O but not toward Manhattan, it relies on buses to the subway and the ferry for its connection to jobs in the rest of New York. Unsurprisingly, this is too slow and low-capacity for the full benefit of rapid transit to emerge, and the borough’s character remains suburban.

Plenty of railfans and transit supporters believe that the subway should be extended from Bay Ridge to Staten Island across the Narrows; the Fourth Avenue Line contains some landside infrastructure preparing for such an extension. While this is one of the options that should be studied, it suffers in two ways: first, the Narrows are the deepest part of New York Harbor, at about 25 meters (83 ft.), and second, the Staten Island end would be at Grasmere, a low-density area.

In contrast, according to the nautical chart, paths that go from St. George to any point between Manhattan and the Bay Ridge freight terminal are at the deepest 16 meters (53 ft.) below mean low water. In addition, the North Shore is the densest and most densifiable part of the borough, and would get better service; the South Shore would get about the same amount of service no matter where east of the Narrows the tunnel landed, but is the less important part of the borough to connect.

I contend that the list of options is as depicted on this map. The main choice is between a direct route and a route that goes through Brooklyn, trading off speed versus intermediate stops and possibly cost. Observe that it is much easier for a line that detours through Brooklyn to serve Downtown Brooklyn at Borough Hall than at the existing train station; this provides some justification for adding a Borough Hall station to a New Jersey-Brooklyn regional rail tunnel.

Not depicted on the map is the interaction of the various alignments with Harbor geology. If the primary factor is minimizing tunnel depth, then there are two options, one more easterly, near or under Governor’s Island or even farther east, and one more westerly, near the mouth of the Hudson. The westerly option opens the possibility for an east-west alignment through Manhattan that goes the “wrong way” – that is, has the Uptown direction pointing in the same direction as the Brooklyn-bound direction of the New Jersey-Brooklyn tunnel. This would give a cross-platform transfer from Staten Island to Brooklyn, which is lacking from the standard direct option.

Another issue is a South Ferry stop. As discussed in my post about the Lower Manhattan station siting, a South Ferry station becomes necessary if the main Lower Manhattan station is too far north, roughly north of Fulton Street. Even if the station is at or marginally south of Fulton, a second Lower Manhattan station could help reduce dwell times at the main station, increasing capacity.

A related issue is keeping all traffic that doesn’t need to be in Manhattan out of the main station. The Staten Island-Brooklyn transfer hogs passenger circulation space. It’s bad enough that a greenfield 100 km/h regional rail tunnel would get people from Atlantic/Pacific to Grand Central in about 11 minutes plus transfer time, versus about 20 on the 4/5, which make more or less the same stops, adding cross-platform transfers. A relief station at South Ferry, or Borough Hall, would go a long way toward mitigating this. (Observe that in the service patterns I’ve proposed for the lines that converge on Midtown, the main transfer points are Secaucus and Sunnyside, avoiding Penn Station.)

For the options that detour through Brooklyn, the choice of neighborhoods to serve and the choice of how much land versus sea tunneling both give rise to several options. One option would serve Red Hook, connecting it either directly to Manhattan or via Borough Hall, giving it a rapid transit connection it currently lacks. Offering new rapid transit service to neighborhoods that lack it is always a positive, and could also get very good ridership: for a similar example, the MTA’s ridership model for New Rochelle-Penn Station commuter rail service was bullish about the potential of a Co-op City station.

A separate choice is regional rail versus subway. A subway alignment’s main advantage is that it requires less tunneling, just enough to hook the Staten Island Railway into the Fourth Avenue Line. The main disadvantages are that it’s slower than express regional rail, and that the southern Brooklyn subways already suffer from excessive branching and middling frequency.

From the start, the BMT had a problem with merging eight tracks to six, with suboptimal junctions. The Chrystie Street Connection did not change this – it merely allowed all six tracks (the four Broadway Line tracks and the two express Sixth Avenue Line tracks) to serve Midtown. On top of this, Manhattan-Coney Island is not as thick a market as it used to be; with today’s usage patterns, nobody would think to build four different routes to Coney Island plus one to Bay Ridge while leaving Utica unserved and Nostrand a short stub. Additional branching would cut into the frequency of existing lines, worsening service to existing middle-density neighborhoods in southern Brooklyn. Thus, a regional rail option, if it’s at all affordable, would provide much better service. Even the option of connecting the new line to the 59th Street station in Sunset Park would be preserved if the line followed the Gowanus Expressway.

For a few numbers: the proposed cost of the Cross-Harbor Tunnel is $7.4 billion for the double-tracked option; the length and geology are comparable to Staten Island-Manhattan. As of 2000, the total commute market from Staten Island to Manhattan is 53,000 people, i.e. 106,000 trips; additional travel to Brooklyn is 29,000 people, and travel to points north and east of Manhattan is 8,000. Cutting one to two transfers and about twenty minutes from each one-way trip could ensure nearly 100% mode share for travel to Manhattan, as well as a significant mode share to other parts of the city.

Moreover, a zoning deal raising density in St. George and right next to the train station could raise the size of the commute market, adding to ridership. While Staten Island is not particularly pro-development, and has engaged in downzoning recently, a deal in which Staten Islanders get their commute improved so much in exchange for accepting change to their neighborhood could be acceptable. Tellingly, for the North Shore Branch reactivation, the people near the line seem more interested in the higher-intensity options: rail over bus, and possibly heavy rail rather than light rail. NIMBY attitudes are reduced when the change in question is bundled with solving a known local problem, in this case very long commutes.

Quick Note: Don’t Overlearn From a Case of Success

I’ve been asked in comments to my previous post about construction costs what can be done to contain them, and tempting as it is to just repeat listing good cases, in the wrong context it can do more harm than good. Whenever we are faced with a success story, it’s tempting to confuse a good system with individual competence, in both directions.

The list of conclusions given by Madrid Metro CEO Manuel Melis Maynar is a good place to start for discussing low-cost subway construction. So is Calgary Transit’s explanation for how it keeps costs low. But things are always more complex than a short list of principles, and details always matter, and those can be easily lost when trying to port cases of success. I think it’s obvious that Madrid’s EPB method is not easily ported to the harder rock of Manhattan, but the administrative factors could be problematic, too: is there enough expertise within the MTA to complete projects with an in-house staff of six? After all, in California, the small size of the in-house staff is one reason why the consultants can run circles around everyone and propose multiple billions’ worth of concrete to solve problems that good organization could fix for no money.

Of course, in the other direction, it’s easy to attribute to individual genius what is the result of good business culture. Compare, for example, the praise heaped on Steve Jobs, with the more sober description by Malcolm Gladwell of the office cultures involved in the birth of the Macintosh. But even this opposite problem can be shoehorned into the same issue.

To be more precise, in both cases, what’s really needed for optimal performance is good organization and business culture. This does not mean that individual lessons about keeping design and construction separate and choosing contractors based on more than just cost are bad, or that they shouldn’t be implemented everywhere. They should. Obtaining average performance is not difficult; that’s why a large majority of cities have it. What’s difficult is obtaining optimal cost control.

Cost Concerns, Reasonable and Otherwise

Stephen Smith’s recent post excoriating high US transit costs left me with a weird feeling that took me a while to figure out exactly. The feeling is primarily about the attitude, but the most telling quote about it is the following attack on East Side Access:

East Side Access, the most expensive project, is overpriced by about 1,000%. (Compared to Spain, the world leader in low-cost subway construction, the project is on the order of 10,000% too expensive.) And even in San Francisco, the Central Subway project, which will cost $500 million per kilometer, is – and I’m being generous here – about three-quarters waste.

It is completely true that East Side Access cost a hundred times more per kilometer as two recent commuter rail tunnels in Spain, but it doesn’t really capture the size of the construction cost problem. The range of costs worldwide is quite high; the large majority of projects are significantly more expensive than the single cheapest example. One could just as well criticize Paris’s plan to extend the RER E from its Saint-Lazare terminus to La Défense for costing €1.58-2.18 billion for 8 km of tunnel (see PDF-pp. 59 and 79); although the per-kilometer cost is average for the complexity of the project, and the per-rider cost is also low, it’s still much higher than the two cheapest Spanish projects, by a factor of about 5.

When I write about cost control, beyond just collecting information that isn’t otherwise available in one place, I keep two things in mind:

1. Am I comparing the project in question to the average, including some above-average-cost projects, or to one cheap outlier?

2. Is the project reasonably cost-effective at its present cost, independently of the fact that it could be done for cheaper?

For American subway projects, the answer to question 1 is unambiguously yes. Although there has to be a most expensive line, the projects in the US are persistently more expensive than outside the Anglosphere, and by a large factor, close to but not quite a full order of magnitude. I have less data for light rail and above-ground rapid transit projects, but the non-US numbers I do have are a fraction of some US projects, and American projects that seem more affordable are often very minimalistic, merely upgrading existing tracks to urban rail standards instead of doing construction on city streets. That said, the difference is not 10,000%; to get even 1,000% we need to start looking for the more expensive US projects or the cheaper European projects.

But the answer to question 2 is not always no. As construction costs decline, cities and countries start building more marginal lines, so that the construction cost per rider of urban transit, or the profitability of intercity rail, is not very low. Conversely, some very expensive projects are also so well-patronized that good transit advocates should not oppose them even as they push for cost savings in the future.

For example, Madrid’s MetroSur, built for about $1.7 billion in today’s money, or $45 million per km, gets only 140,000–170,000 riders per day, for a total of around $10,000 per rider. This is fine, but not very low, since the very low construction costs are matched with low ridership per kilometer, more comparable to a tramway than to a subway; most Parisian projects are considerably cheaper per rider, even though Paris builds on-street light rail for the same cost Madrid builds tunnels. In contrast, Second Avenue Subway is about $25,000 per projected rider, high by non-US standards but not obscenely so; I know of no cheaper project in the US under construction right now, including some with quite reasonable per-km costs. New York’s high construction costs mean that the only projects that can pass muster are ones that would set records for cost-effectiveness at normal costs and are still okay at elevated local costs.

The advantage of looking at low-cost outliers like Spain or Calgary is not that American projects are so much more expensive. It’s that we can look at what they do right and imitate some of their practices, in the hopes of getting some of the cost reduction. But it’s important to remember that they’re outliers, and the goal should be to have average costs, not a fraction of the average. To a good approximation, a subway in a dense city will cost $250 million per kilometer – and judging by the low density of the area around MetroSur and conversely the cost escalations on Barcelona’s L9, that’s true even in Spain. It’s possible to do better, but not so much better that it’s worth scuttling lines over.

The lines that are cost-ineffective in the US tend to be the kind that would be bad even at normal cost. In Europe, few of these are built. Those lines – BART’s Livermore extension, Los Angeles’ Foothills Extension, and New York’s 7 extension are favorite punching bags of local transit activists, even relatively political ones – are not necessarily the most expensive, but they’re the most cost-ineffective. The lines that would have been successful at normal costs are not even being proposed: high costs are making them unworkable, and they usually lack value as developer-oriented transit to make players push for them regardless.

The value of international comparisons then is not really for single items or for precise estimates. It’s a first-order estimate inherently. It’s useful as a reality check on certain claims: that it’s unsafe to have a single operator and no conductors on a train with a thousand passengers, that urban transit cannot run on a predictable schedule, that deep-level construction is always preferably to shallow construction. But this is useful exactly because the counters to such claims are frequently universal that claims of special circumstances are less credible – for example, nearly all subway systems in the world run with one employee.

The other problem with trying to rely on case studies of cheap outliers is that the reasons some places have higher construction costs than others may not be the same as those that the builders think. For example, the list of factors Calgary cites as reasons for its low construction costs include its standardized equipment, proof-of-payment system with high discounts for season passes, and a minimum of tunnels and viaducts. Those are fairly normal on American light rail lines as well; they distinguish the C-Train more from more expensive (and vendor-limited) Canadian subway systems.

In reality, the differences are subtler, involving contracting practices, and the health of the local political system. It’s of course not easy to think of Spain, Turkey, and Italy as leaders of good government and of Germany and the Netherlands as Continental Europe’s high-cost leaders, but government on the agency level works differently from on the national level. The US scores very poorly on this measure, with a transportation-industrial complex that sees transit revival as a grand national project, one that like all the previous ones is about image and not about prudence.

The importance of this more political and institutional view is that it’s not enough to just say construction costs should be lower. Insofar as reducing costs is a matter of increasing efficiency, it is essentially a form of economic growth; economic growth happens in spurts in individual industries, and rapid cost controls are possible, but not instantaneous ones. There’s a multi-century average of economic growth, of a little less than 2% per capita in developed countries, and thinking that those efficiency measures will average out to much more is unwise.

Moreover, the way rapid efficiency measures are usually implemented is not one that causes efficiency. I think this is what concerned me the most about Stephen’s article: it’s the implication that all US transit needs is an outsider like me giving it an honest look. I think what I do is interesting, but without very deep insider knowledge, and the cooperation of the trained workforce, it’s not going to lead to much. If I were given a detailed cost breakdown of subway operation in New York and Tokyo, I’d probably be able to see a large number of potential savings in New York. Maybe four out of five would work if I knew what I was doing and were careful enough; one out of five would instead lead to a disaster. It wouldn’t be possible to know in advance which one it would be; it would often not be possible to even know after the fact what caused the problem and what could remain reformed. The best a reformist like that could do is do everything quickly and move on before the edifice collapses; even then, eventually scandal would catch up, as it did to Chainsaw Al.

The process of reform from outside tends to fail for precisely this reason. The outside reformer has no use for insiders – he scorns them, and they return the favor. The Atlantic identifies Newt Gingrich with this mentality, but there are better, less national examples. In Israel, it’s identified with waste in the military and in business: leaders make themselves indispensable by constantly reorganizing everything to make themselves look important. Second, in the US, Bloomberg and allied reformists have a similar mentality, of running the city like the businesses they are used to. As a result, Bloomberg is unable to achieve anything that required the cooperation of people who are not his subordinates; this was made painfully obvious by the failure of congestion pricing.

The alternative to this process is much more painful, but more reliable, in both cases because it’s by design slower. It requires multiple levels of government to come together, inject money into new capital construction, and then add service in such a way that workers lost to efficiency improvements can be reassigned one-to-one to new service. For example, if Amtrak builds high-speed rail in the Northeast well, it will need to hire thousands of new trackworkers and other employees, and could potentially make an agreement to take redundant commuter rail employees in exchange for running faster and more frequently on commuter rail-owned tracks. Such agreements are necessarily complex, requiring the consent of multiple agencies and unions, but are the only way to secure insider support and knowledge for reform.

Recall that in Japan’s great shedding of mainline rail workforce immediately before and after JNR privatization, Japan was undergoing an economic boom, and the government made an effort to find the laid off employees private-sector work. Since the US is not in that position, it needs to find another way, and a spurt of growth in off-peak mainline service could partially do it; in combination with some FRA reforms, it could allow much better service for the same operating cost, using ridership gains to reduce state subsidies. Even then, it wouldn’t be enough everywhere, not with an agency as big as New York City Transit, and as in Japan the entire process could take decades of attrition. In construction, it’s technically simpler to reform work rules, and it is possible that new projects could be authorized more or less simultaneously, so that the cost reductions would be directed to more service rather than fewer construction jobs.

But what would not work is to decree that costs must be lower, and cancel all projects that don’t meet those goals. Cancellation threats on marginal projects could work; on the other hand, the worst projects are typically those with the most backing by power brokers, and since they’re justified by reasons other than cost-effectiveness, a more hawkish line on cost effectiveness would not reduce their support. Actual cancellations of unfixably bad projects could also work. But more than a Chainsaw Al style of management is needed here. What I write about comparative construction costs may be the beginning, but is not more than that, certainly not the end.