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I’ll concede that shipping container housing can be cool. I write this because I took a bit of flack on my previous piece about shipping containers. I wanted to take some time to offer some rebuttals (and a correction - that correction being that I wrongfully labeled the Detroit project as affordable housing. It isn’t. It is market rate. It was a mistake).

I used Tornado Towers as my storyline. I wish I was a better writer and maybe then I could have given a more passionate argument against shipping container housing by bringing it all together. Needless to say, I can’t fault people for commenting on that aspect of the piece.

For the record – I was not arguing against providing affordable housing, I was advocating that it should be quality housing and that we should not “experiment on the poor” like we’ve done so many times in the arena of public housing (e.g.: no more towers in the park). People in need of affordable housing aren’t looking for high-design.

For the most part, shipping container housing has been a luxury for the wealthy. There are more examples of second-homes on the beach/ in the woods than that of a primary residence. It appears to be a burgeoning architectural trend under the label of sustainability.

Before I go any further, I want to concede that there are definitely situations where shipping containers may be useful – such as temporary housing in areas affected by disasters. I have also been informed that they work well in desert climates as military housing on bases. These are fine uses for shipping containers. My main complaint is that, for affordable housing or otherwise, they will ultimately fail and become eyesores.

Here’s the brief rundown on why we should be skeptical of shipping container housing …

• They are ugly and will ultimately not be loved. The design will not stand the test of time and we are only a decade away from these places being either abandoned or destroyed.
• They aren’t much cheaper than typical housing. You can build a normal, standard, average, normal brick apartment building (that will last for a century) for about 5 percent more.
• Environmentally, there isn’t much benefit. Retrofitting shipping containers to make them fit for human habitat takes a lot of energy. Containers are laced with countless hazardous chemicals and getting rid of those is a nasty process.
• Vast majority proposals I’ve seen are nothing more than a "Tower in the Park" idea reincarnate. Only this time it might be worse – stacked shipping containers in the park.
  

Shipping container housing, minus the re-use element, as a means of urban development is a “same stuff, different day” scenario (e.g.: Tornado Towers). It failed in the past and will surely fail again in the future.

What is Strong Towns? And, where you can help make it happen!

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This is a post-election results tweet from Minnesota Public Radio’s Bob Collins (from NewsCut). He nailed it.

What’s the plan now? That’s a good question.

I’ve often contemplated what this election mean for America’s towns and cities? I’m not really sure. My guess is that is resembles something like what Bob Collins’ tweet was hinting.

In my mind, one of our political faults is that we ignore how we build places and don’t have anything that resembles a consensus on urban and rural infrastructure development. Our collective culture is still set in the idea that large infrastructure projects will help us grow our way out of debt [See "Debate Questions" on the blog and the related podcast].

The establishment, both liberal and conservative, view projects like the $750 million St. Croix Bridge and the $125 million 169/494 interchange as catalysts of growth – not agents of future debt and long-term maintenance obligations. It’s embedded in our economic culture and how we develop our landscapes.

A great example of lacking a consensus is my hometown: Mankato, Minnesota.

Mankato really wants a vibrant downtown. They’ve pulled out all the usual stops: promote mixed-used development, a historic building facades grant program, improve street, pedestrian and bike connections and reacquaint the town with its riverside. The plan is good, but the City has absolutely no idea how to make it happen.

All the money and time spent towards revitalization efforts is moot if Mankato doesn’t stop subsidizing large competing suburban infrastructure projects that add no real value to the community and quickly become financial liabilities. Public officials on all sides of the political spectrum want the best of both worlds: 1) more quick tax revenue windfalls from easy-to-build suburbanism, and 2) a vibrant downtown. This point is best illustrated by Mankato’s new expensive intersection and its relationship to “new mall building.”

This 1.2 mile blue line represents one of the biggest urban planning blunders in Mankato history. In fact, it probably represents upwards of a $1 billion in extra cost to the small City and its residents over its short 20 year existence. What is the blue line you ask? Well – it is the shortest route that connects Mankato’s Madison East Mall (built late 1960s) to the newer River Hills Mall (built early 1990s). This also ignores that they also built a mall downtown (destroying good urban fabric) in the 1980s.

In the early 1990s, instead of expanding the existing mall and using existing infrastructure in the (still) vacant land surrounding the Madison East Mall, the decision was made to sprawl out the town an extra 1.2 miles. The question I wish would have been asked in the 1990s is: how much financially better off would the town be if it didn’t build the additional roadways, exit ramps, water and sewerage pipes and electric lines?

All of this needs to be maintained into perpetuity. Not to mention that every driving trip for the majority of Mankato’s population burns 2.4 miles more in gas. And for what? In return for the newer mall where city residents get virtually the same stores in a different location? Needless to say, the town is still recovering from this decision, the old Madison East Mall is a ghost town and the buildings that once abutted the commercial hub have gone through 25 years without reinvestment.

My favorite example is the Burger King at the entrance of the old mall. It’s now abandoned. The Burger King closed after access to the fast food restaurant was decreased as a result of a $25 million intersection “improvement” project that was designed to accommodate more traffic towards a newly built intersection ($4 million) and away from an old (and “congested”) intersection adjacent to the River Hills Mall. I’m not mourning the loss of a fast food chain, but merely shaking my head in disappointment and begrudging acceptance at the desolate environment that will continue to ensue once the building starts to fall into disrepair along Mankato’s busiest road.

This cost $25 million. It effectively saves drivers upwards of 1 minute in time and prevents people from having to turn left. This is in addition to another $4 million to build yet another intersection (just slightly down the road) at local Highway 14. All of these expenditures are necessary because of the Mankato’s chosen development pattern. Unfortunately, all of this cost a lot of money and doesn’t pay for itself. Imagine what could be done if Mankato decided to spend the $29 million spent on sprawl-inducing intersections and instead used that money to improve its already existing public infrastructure downtown or neighborhoods?

To give you an idea of the total costs of public infrastructure: The total land and construction of Mankato’s new elementary school costs $8 million less than its two new intersections. At the end of the day, Mankato has money to spend on infrastructure. The town just isn’t spending it in the right places.

This is the problem we have and this is where I agree with Bob Collins’ Tweet: What’s the plan now? For development of infrastructure and our built environment, it looks to be more of the same. If politicians were looking for a stronger economy, they should look to build Strong Towns.

The Minnesota Department of Employment and Economic Development (DEED) doesn’t know what it’s doing.

Want proof? The third highest ranking “economic development” project in the State of Minnesota is a parking ramp in Duluth. It ranked 92 out of 100, beating out rural health facilities, wastewater and recycling plants and senior housing.

The methodology relies heavily on short-term construction jobs and dead ideas. The available money is going towards “economic development” (emphasis on the quotations). However, you can file most of the proposals under four basic ‘old economy’ folders:

• Civic / convention / sports centers
• Parking garages
• Industrial parks at the edge of town
• Small town basic needs

Why is it that we still view convention centers, parking garages and “if we build it, they will come” small town industrial parks as economic development? Haven’t we been over this before?

The Minnesota Department of Employment and Economic Development doesn’t know what it’s doing. Let me rephrase that: We don't know what economic development is. It's not just DEED.

The desire for convention centers is a simple. While it brings in outsiders who consume things that are taxed at higher rates (alcohol, hotel rooms, rental cars, etc), it almost never justifies the expenditure. From the city’s perspective, it appears to be a win-win, but these investments come at a loss in the long-term.

The number of conventions and total number of people going to conventions has decreased since it peaked in the mid-1990s. During this same period, the number of conventions centers has rapidly expanded. We have now is that of more cities are competing for fewer dollars. It's a classic race to the bottom. Parking garages are the same. People are increasingly driving less, but parking spaces are still built with abundance. Why are we still calling these projects "economic development"?

There is good news for my hometown though. Mankato dodged a bullet! They didn’t get funding for their convention center expansion.

City officials don’t see it that way. They’re upset DEED didn’t consider them a priority on $47.5 million in state bonding money. The city is demanding information as to why DEED ranked their request below other projects [Source].

I want to see Mankato succeed, but filling up more prime downtown real estate with more rarely used buildings seems like a bad idea. Mankato has made enough downtown destroying decisions, and they don’t need to make another one. [Note: In one of the most confusing pieces of urban planning history, Mankato’s Civic Center removed a street, built a pedestrian mall and then put a skyway directly over the pedestrian mall].

If you look at the DEED projects [Excel], it’s hard to tell what has merit and what doesn’t. There are a handful of small town wastewater and recycling plant requests. These are basic necessities, but it’s hard to say if the qualify as “economic development” - even if I am sympathetic to their request. On the other hand, you have unnecessary old economy projects that may create a lot of short-term construction jobs, like a parking garage in Duluth, but ultimately have no economic benefit and arguably hurt municipalities with long-term maintenance obligations while damaging the urban environment.

The majority of the projects resemble Mankato’s application.

The city’s request, deemed the State’s 17^th most worthy, was for $14.5 million to expand their existing convention center. The officials claim the money is needed to keep the 19 year old facility competitive, a common cry when looking for money. The City is upset that it ranked behind other civic center projects. It’s not just that, but Mankato feels it has been overlooked as other towns received convention center money in the past decade while Mankato has been left penniless. It’s true. Mankato raised its own money and is dedicating its own food and beverage tax while the State of Minnesota has single-handedly funded their competition.

Mankato discovered that having a convention center only works if somebody else pays for it. That’s why no other city is doing what Mankato did. It just doesn't make sense.

An expansion to a convention center facility in Mankato might be nice for Mankato (the hockey team would be happy). A new baseball field in downtown St. paul would be nice, too. I like baseball and downtown St. Paul. The proposed economic development parking projects, like those of Duluth and St. Cloud, would make a lot of people's lives easier. No question about it. These projects are a lot of things, and might even be justified under some type of social good; but we need to stop pretending they are economic development.

It’s urban. It’s suburban. It’s a highway.

Snelling Avenue is a lot of things. It just depends where you are. Annual average daily traffic (AADT) ranges from 43,000 AADT at the northern limit and around 14,400 around Ford Parkway [Source]. That’s a lot of cars. Suffice it to say, Snelling Avenue effects a lot of people’s lives. It’s important that it’s done right.

The problem with Snelling Avenue is that it’s a little bit of everything. It tries to appease everyone and therefore, appeases no one.

At it’s farthest point south in Highland Park, Snelling is a pleasant windy tree-lined, two-lane street that quickly transforms into a school zone. Traffic moves slowly until you cross Montreal. At this point, the lanes widen and the speed increases. That is, until you hit the patchwork of late-streetcar / early-suburban commercial nodes around Randolph.

The intersection of Snelling and Randolph feels urban; buildings hug the wide sidewalks and apartments are above the shops.  Yet, the heavy flow of traffic make the area a walker’s nightmare during rush hours. These roads act as mini-freeways through the neighborhoods. Getting north to south or east to west through parts of St. Paul will take you on a long adventure of local arterial roads.

What to do with these types of roads is always contentious and the City of St. Paul and MnDOT often seems like they’re at odds. While residential property owners would certainly benefit from reduced traffic, the business owners like it – especially if they are fortunate enough to have off-street parking. The trouble continues when MnDOT concerns itself too much with LOS ("level of service") and “the standard”. This often translates to: how do we make the cars move most efficiently? The model criticized by urban planners has changed for the better in recent years, but still struggles to deal with places like Snelling and Randolph, a place where urban meets suburban meets pedestrians meets highway meets potential bike lanes [Related article].

From Randolph heading north, Snelling has single-family homes until St. Clair. Macalaster College’s flowering greenery turns the highway-oriented avenue into a three block version of Summit Avenue’s well-known median. The median is nice and works well, but it’s part of Snelling’s identity crisis; a highway-styled road turns pedestrian-friendly, then it quickly converts back.

North of Summit you’ll find strip malls and a hodgepodge of light industrial until you hit I-94 and University Avenue (two of Minnesota’s busiest intersections). Anyone who has driven this section of Snelling knows that congestion is the norm. It’s a major intersection off the interstate and what appears to be endless light-rail construction plugging it up even more.

Snelling from University Avenue north to Hamline University is medium-density lined with small businesses and multifamily dwellings. This stretch of road works. It accommodates lots of pedestrians, businesses, buses and cars. It’s noisy and chaotic, but it works. If Hamline University were to follow in Macalaster’s footsteps and spruce up the median, it could potentially go a long way.

Snelling past Hamline abruptly turns back into a highway as you cross railroad tracks towards the State Fair. On your left hand side, it’s a long chain-link fence and on your right are single-family homes. Both feel out of character and uncomfortable. This continues until you pass Larpenter and into Falcon Heights. It’s here where Snelling finally commits to becoming something consistent.

Snelling clearly doesn’t work as a highway; but as long as it tries to sometimes act like a highway, it won’t be able to act like a city street either. Yet, if it turns into a street city (with a median, narrower traffic lanes and bike lanes), what will happen to adjacent alternative routes? When congestion occurs on your traditional street grid, people have options. They’ll take Fairview or Hamline or Lexington. Will these roads become more congested and less desirable? Will it reduce traffic demand or move it elsewhere?

The answer isn’t clear. What is clear though is that MnDOT’s (and the City of St. Paul’s) recent reconstruction of Snelling will keep it very much the same. Appeasing no one.

It’s urban. It’s suburban. It’s a highway.

Snelling Avenue is a lot of things. It just depends where you are. Annual average daily traffic (AADT) ranges from 43,000 AADT at the northern limit and around 14,400 around Ford Parkway [Source]. That’s a lot of cars. Suffice it to say, Snelling Avenue effects a lot of people’s lives. It’s important that it’s done right.

The problem with Snelling Avenue is that it’s a little bit of everything. It tries to appease everyone and therefore, appeases no one.

At it’s farthest point south in Highland Park, Snelling is a pleasant windy tree-lined, two-lane street that quickly transforms into a school zone. Traffic moves slowly until you cross Montreal. At this point, the lanes widen and the speed increases. That is, until you hit the patchwork of late-streetcar / early-suburban commercial nodes around Randolph.

The intersection of Snelling and Randolph feels urban; buildings hug the wide sidewalks and apartments are above the shops.  Yet, the heavy flow of traffic make the area a walker’s nightmare during rush hours. These roads act as mini-freeways through the neighborhoods. Getting north to south or east to west through parts of St. Paul will take you on a long adventure of local arterial roads.

What to do with these types of roads is always contentious and the City of St. Paul and MnDOT often seems like they’re at odds. While residential property owners would certainly benefit from reduced traffic, the business owners like it – especially if they are fortunate enough to have off-street parking. The trouble continues when MnDOT concerns itself too much with LOS ("level of service") and “the standard”. This often translates to: how do we make the cars move most efficiently? The model criticized by urban planners has changed for the better in recent years, but still struggles to deal with places like Snelling and Randolph, a place where urban meets suburban meets pedestrians meets highway meets potential bike lanes [Related article].

From Randolph heading north, Snelling has single-family homes until St. Clair. Macalaster College’s flowering greenery turns the highway-oriented avenue into a three block version of Summit Avenue’s well-known median. The median is nice and works well, but it’s part of Snelling’s identity crisis; a highway-styled road turns pedestrian-friendly, then it quickly converts back.

North of Summit you’ll find strip malls and a hodgepodge of light industrial until you hit I-94 and University Avenue (two of Minnesota’s busiest intersections). Anyone who has driven this section of Snelling knows that congestion is the norm. It’s a major intersection off the interstate and what appears to be endless light-rail construction plugging it up even more.

Snelling from University Avenue north to Hamline University is medium-density lined with small businesses and multifamily dwellings. This stretch of road works. It accommodates lots of pedestrians, businesses, buses and cars. It’s noisy and chaotic, but it works. If Hamline University were to follow in Macalaster’s footsteps and spruce up the median, it could potentially go a long way.

Snelling past Hamline abruptly turns back into a highway as you cross railroad tracks towards the State Fair. On your left hand side, it’s a long chain-link fence and on your right are single-family homes. Both feel out of character and uncomfortable. This continues until you pass Larpenter and into Falcon Heights. It’s here where Snelling finally commits to becoming something consistent.

Snelling clearly doesn’t work as a highway; but as long as it tries to sometimes act like a highway, it won’t be able to act like a city street either. Yet, if it turns into a street city (with a median, narrower traffic lanes and bike lanes), what will happen to adjacent alternative routes? When congestion occurs on your traditional street grid, people have options. They’ll take Fairview or Hamline or Lexington. Will these roads become more congested and less desirable? Will it reduce traffic demand or move it elsewhere?

The answer isn’t clear. What is clear though is that MnDOT’s (and the City of St. Paul’s) recent reconstruction of Snelling will keep it very much the same. Appeasing no one.