Generosity Through Generations

Masterful marketers seek vibes that appeal to targeted demographics, and are able to profit from that ability. It is far better, however, to build places people love across generations because appeal that escapes any hive of the like-minded and draws from across the ages of life is a deeply human thing. "Places people love" doesn't specify any demographic. Just people. And the places they love.

Nature's Edge

People are drawn to nature in its many forms, including forests, fields, and waters. But how generous is a place in opening up nature to you at the edge of the urbanism? Growing up in sprawl, it was clear that I could drive for miles without finding a place where I could park my car, get out, sit down, and enjoy relatively undisturbed nature. So the highways edged with billboards and fences don't do it because while we can whiz by a natural scene at Interstate speeds, that's not real enjoyment. And country roads aren't so speedy, but how often do you find a compellingly natural spot on the roadside? Maybe at "scenic overlooks" every hundred miles or so? The city, as paradoxical as it sounds, is the best setting on several counts.

The first step is for a city or town to be willing to protect its edges that face into nature instead of just srpawling on forever. Next, it needs to set up destinations on the edge. Some should be designed for quiet contemplation, like the intimately-scaled beach pavilions at Seaside, Florida; others for more vibrant scenes like along a promenade. And then ensure that the walk and bike network is designed to get you easily to these places on nature's edge.

I remember a long-ago Seaside Pienza Institute trip to Tuscany, studying the agricultural edge. US residents came, saw, considered it impossible, but then asked "how can we do this back home?" For the next few years we failed to find the formula. But on a rescue project originally planned as cul-de-sac sprawl, we finally cracked the code. The originally-planned sprawl would never have been anything but large-lot subdivisions despoiling stunningly beautiful land with ancient trees dating back over a century. But we decided to triple the number of homes in order to support a local economy of neighborhood-scale businesses while at the same time condensing development into compact hamlets, villages, and a small town. That gave everyone a short walk to long views of the aforementioned forests, fields, and waters.

Because of this generosity, residents rewarded the Town Founders richly; soon after people got the real picture of what we were doing, the developed value of the land jumped to 25 times what it was in subdivisions all around. But in spite of that, and because we set out from the beginning to have a 15:1 range of values, we were able to deliver housing more affordable than had been available in that market in a couple decades. So generosity works. For us all.

The Gift of Health

This is Wanda, walking along the waterfront of the Honfleur harbor, enticed by the sights, smells, and sounds of the city. Generous places tend to be healthy places because Walk Appeal is so strong there that walking a lot is just a natural part of living life. I've talked about growing up in sprawl and into clinical obesity by my early 40s, before moving to Miami Beach to collaborate with New Urbanist colleagues nearby. That was the goal of the move, but the side-effect of losing 60 pounds by just living life in the generous urbanism of South Beach may have saved my life, as I doubt I'd still be alive today on my old sprawl-induced trajectory.

Invite Exploration

A street network of short blocks opens many choices, with the implied invitation to "come explore our town." Frequent intersections lead to discoveries not found on long blocks or dead ends. So invite people to keep walking. Or rolling; whatever their means of transport.

Really thin blocks have another benefit: because there's no great distance from anywhere inside to a window, or a door to a balcony, gallery, arcade, or colonnade. People are easily drawn to the light, and the benefits of people enjoying the view, or the breeze, doesn't stop with them; a streetscape filled with people standing at a window or sitting on a balcony above make the street more interesting to those walking by below. And there is nothing more interesting to humans than other humans.

Follow the Old Paths

The short-block street network may often be rectilinear, but there's often an old path or two following ancient footpaths or cow paths compelling enough in its trajectory, its destination, or its distant views that generous Town Founders or those who follow them retain those old paths, irregular though they may be, like this one enfronted by multi-story mixed-use buildings that have grown along its path over time as it curves around to an unseen destination on the left. Or it could be as grand as Manhattan's Broadway, slicing through an otherwise regular street grid, delivering delights like the Flatiron Building, which mediates between path and grid in a way so compelling that it creates multiple Instagram Moments.

Gifts to the Street

You've heard of double-edged swords; this is a double-edged gift. It's not just designed to entertain people walking by, but also for the residents sitting on the balcony, with their lovingly-tended balcony garden equally visible from street and seat.

Generous Geometry

Look closely at the street geometry at this intersection: the streets are so narrow that these three people need only a handful of steps to get across. And the radius of the curb the man is about to step across is barely five feet, while most municipalities in the US ban any radius less than fifteen feet, because that slows the cars down, which the doctrine of auto domination cannot tolerate. So to a driver, this street scene looks absolutely stingy. But to people walking or biking, it looks like a generous invitation to explore the town in safety and relaxation.