Map: LA County Residents, How Many People Get to Work Without a Car in Your Neighborhood?

I've made a couple new maps for all my map nerd friends.

The first one I really like. It's got the commute mode share of walking, bicycling, and transit all grouped together so we can see what neighborhoods are the least (and most) car-dependent:

Here's the link to a full-sized map.

For those interested in embedding the map on their own site, you'll want to go here, click the tab that says "LA County," pull down the tab that says "Publish," and copy from there. The embedded map will show whatever you're looking at when you hit "Publish" -- in my case I was viewing Los Angeles, for example -- so keep that in mind if you want to highlight a specific area.

The most car-free neighborhood of them all (census tract 2089.02) can be found right on top of Westlake/MacArthur Park station, where nearly 80 percent of residents use public transit for their commute. Long Beach also has an impressive concentration of non-car uses, as does the area around North Hollywood and Van Nuys.

Downtown LA is essentially surrounded by census tracts where the majority of residents get to work by foot, bike, bus, or train, but the core is curiously hollowed out by this metric: the most central, transit-accessible part of Downtown -- the area from Pershing Square to Staples Center -- has a non-car mode share of under 30 percent. Apparently most of the people living in this part of Downtown aren't also working in the area, and despite the wealth of transportation options available to them, they're still choosing to use their cars to get to work wherever they're going. Hopefully that starts to change in the coming years.

The other map is of the commuter mode share for walkers, below:

And the full-sized map.

Here we see a definite mode shift toward walking in Downtown, which isn't surprising given its recent ranking as the Most Walkable Neighborhood in Los Angeles. Long Beach again does pretty well, along with Hollywood, Glendale, Pasadena, and the area around UCLA.

Both of these maps also show a clear relationship between Downtown and USC, so let me reiterate one more time that you should really visit this petition and support the MyFigueroa project to better connect these two important communities. They're already leading the county in transit use, bicycling, and walking, and it's time to give them the infrastructure that makes those choices safer and more convenient.

UPDATE:

 A commenter asked me to include a map of the absolute number of non-car commuters per census tract, rather than a population-weighted percentage. That map is below:

And once again, the full-sized map.

Map: Bicycle Mode Share For Every Census Tract in LA County

Like I wrote yesterday, I'm learning a bit about how to use Google Fusion to make maps. I wanted to learn more about how to work with boundaries, census tracts in particular, so I made this map which shows the bicycle mode share of every census tract community in Los Angeles county. As with the crowding map it's a work in progress, but let me know if you'd like any additional information or can think of ways to improve its readability or usefulness.

My initial intent was to find if this gave any indication of where we might want to prioritize investments in the bicycle network -- basically if there were already existing corridors of high bicycle use. Some clearly exist, like that from USC to Downtown (Support MyFigueroa!), around North Hollywood, and, more surprisingly, up in the Valley around Cahoga Park (which I admit to knowing nothing about). Likewise, Santa Monica's large bicycle mode share is no surprise while Whittier's was a little unexpected.

Anyway, check it out for yourself!:

How Crowded Are the Homes in Your ZIP Code?

UPDATE:

 The LA Times made their own map right about the same time as mine (though I maintain that mine was completed first!). The data isn't exactly the same though, which I think can be explained by my conservative use of the margin of error for each ZIP code.

ORIGINAL: 

After reading this LA Times article about overcrowded housing from yesterday, I decided to play around with Google Fusion to see if I could make a map that illustrated the degree of overcrowding across the country. What I came up with is a map that shows every* ZIP code in the US with over 1,000 households, color-coded to show how prevalent crowded households are in that ZIP code. (A definition of "crowded" can be found below.)

The ZIP codes are broken down into the following groups:

  • Less than or equal to the national average share of crowded housing, 3.2 percent
  • Between 3.3 and 6.4 percent of households—double the national average—are living in a crowded home
  • Between 6.5 and 12.8 percent of households—four times the national average—are crowded
  • Between 12.9 and 25.6 percent of households—eight times the national average—are crowded
  • More than 25.6 percent of households are crowded

Zoom in on your city of choice to check out the areas where residents are most likely to be living in uncomfortably crowded conditions:

If you want to view the map in a full page, click here.

When I read the above LA Times article, I found the following passage incredible, and it's what inspired me to look into this further:

Cano and her family live in one of the most crowded neighborhoods in the country. Nearly 45% of the homes there are considered "crowded" — having more than one person per room, excluding bathrooms, according to an analysis of Census Bureau data spanning 2008 to 2012. Almost one home in six is severely crowded, with more than two people per room.  
Southern California is an epicenter for crowded housing: Out of the most heavily crowded 1% of census tracts across the country, more than half are in Los Angeles and Orange counties, a Times statistical analysis found. They are sprinkled throughout areas such as Westlake and Huntington Park around Los Angeles, and Santa Ana and Anaheim in Orange County.

If you check out the map around LA and Orange counties, you'll indeed see a large number of red and black ZIP code areas.

I don't have a particular agenda in creating this map, but I hope people will find it useful or interesting in some way. If you can think of any ways it can be improved (or know something about Google Fusion boundary tables), I'd love to hear from you. I'm looking for a more complete ZIP code boundary table if anyone knows of one, and the populations included in the table appear to be from 2001, so an update to that data would help as well. Here's a link to the Google Fusion table I used for ZIP code boundaries.

A little bit about the methodology and definitions:

The American Community Survey has a somewhat interesting definition of "room," so almost anything but a closet or a bathroom counts: dining rooms, kitchens (as long as they're not too small or part of another living space), living rooms, and bedrooms all count. My studio, since it has a separate kitchen, would probably be considered a 0.5 person-per-room occupancy. A household with two adults and three kids that included a kitchen, dining room, living room, and two bedrooms would be given a 1.0 person-per-room occupancy rating.

To calculate the share of households that were crowded, I used data from the 5-year 2008-2012 American Community Survey. I looked at the Occupancy Characteristics (ID: S2501) for every 5-digit ZIP code tabulation area and summed up the estimated share of households with occupancy ratings of 1.01-1.5 and 1.5+. To be as conservative as possible, I then subtracted the margin of error for both of these estimates, so the values you see above are the lowest possible values within the statistical threshold used by the ACS (I'm guessing a 95% confidence level). In many, probably most cases, the actual rate of crowding will be higher than you see in the map and associated table.

I limited this to only ZIP code areas with more than 1,000 households because the margin of error on smaller areas was very high, making the data essentially useless. I chose ZIP codes because census tracts were too small to have dependable margins of error, and cities and metro areas were too large to be meaningful.

*The Google Fusion table I used to represent the boundaries of each ZIP code area was not 100% complete, but most areas were included.

Why Does Downtown Los Angeles Have Parking Minimums?

Downtown Los Angeles, view from Ace Hotel roof. Photo by Shane Phillips.

I've written a lot about the problems inherent in government-mandated parking minimums: structured parking is incredibly expensive, and takes up space that could be used for more housing and other productive space; minimum parking requirements produce more parking than necessary, encourage more driving, usually result in pretty ugly buildings (anyone else sick of parking podiums yet?), limit opportunities for redevelopment and reuse of aging buildings, and end up forcing non-drivers to partially subsidize parking spots for car owners. On top of all that, developers already have plenty of incentive to build enough parking: if they build less than residents want, they won't be able to rent or sell their units.

All that said, parking mandates do provide some benefits to incumbent residents, even if it's at the expense of future residents. In moderately dense neighborhoods, on-street parking tends to be highly sought after and in short supply, and forcing developers to (over)build structured parking limits the amount of cars that spill over onto the streets as new residents move in. It's not a fair system, since the streets belong to everyone (theoretically), but it's easy to understand why residents often support these kinds of rules for their own narrow benefit.

But what about places like Downtown Los Angeles, where there's basically no long-term on-street parking whatsoever? Downtown is less than six square miles and has a population of around 50,000 people, a number that balloons to over 200,000 on weekdays during work hours. Even if you provided on-street parking along every inch of curb you couldn't make a dent in overall demand. Unlike in less dense parts of the city, there's nowhere for cars to spill over to if there's not enough structured parking for them. Developers are aware of this, and if they want to attract people with cars, as many of them obviously do, they're going to provide parking whether you force them to or not. Parking minimums aren't benefiting anyone in Downtown LA, but they're almost certainly creating an oversupply of residential and commercial parking, and they often force those that don't own cars to subsidize parking spaces for those that do.

At this point, Downtown parking minimums are a solution in search of a problem. The same is true in many dense neighborhoods across the country: when the number of cars outstrips the number of on-street parking spaces by orders of magnitude, parking mandates have outlived their usefulness.

I don't support parking minimums in any city or neighborhood, but I don't expect to convince everyone to agree with me on that point. It should be obvious, though, that the narrow benefits of parking minimums simply don't apply to a place like Downtown. No matter how you feel about cities, public transportation, or anything else, I think this is something we should all be able to agree on. Parking minimums may have served some purpose back when Downtown was less populated, but their time has passed and it's time for them to go.

A Bicycle Tax Would Do Nothing for Bicyclist "Credibility"

California State Senator Mark DeSaulnier recently introduced a bill that would allow local governments to impose a special tax on the sale of bicycles, and Richard Masoner over at Cycleicious has rightly called this out as bogus. A bicycle tax would do one thing, and one thing only: make bikes more expensive.

One of the primary arguments of bike tax proponents, as Masoner notes, is that a bike tax would lend "credibility" to bike advocates. Since bicyclists don't "pay their own way" they're perceived as not having a right to the road, and a tax would change that. The problem with this argument, as we all know, is that drivers don't pay their own way either, and we're all the beneficiaries of (and contributors to) an impenetrable web of cross-subsidies. We all pay for everyone else's roads, buses, trains, and sidewalks, and the truth is that personal income, rather than how you choose to get to work, is probably a much better predictor of how much you're subsidizing other people's travel.

Masoner's point is important, and I've made it myself many times, but I think we also need to consider how the landscape would change if a bicycle tax was implemented. Would bicyclist credibility suddenly be on par with that of drivers, or even above it? Would it change at all? I sincerely doubt it. In California, and most states, we spend billions of dollars on transportation every year, much of that on roads. If you tack a 10 percent tax (for example) onto a new $1,000 bike that someone's only going to buy every 5 or 10 years, you're not making a dent in road maintenance costs, to say nothing of new construction. Anyone who's committed to opposing bicycle infrastructure is going to realize this and their argument is going to be completely unchanged. All you've really succeeded at is making a healthy, environmentally-friendly, and more social form of transportation more expensive. Congratulations.

I honestly don't know the best way to resolve this "who pays what" argument. It seems to me, though, that if no one's paying the full cost of their travel habits, maybe we should do a little more to accommodate the people that limit their imposition on others to the strictly monetary. When someone rides a bike down the street they may take up some space and even cause others a slight delay, but when someone drives they take up far more space, put more vulnerable road users at risk, and leave a trail of air pollution behind them everywhere they go. If I'm going to help pay for your roads, and you for mine, why wouldn't we want to do everything we can to get more people on bicycles?

Low-Income Communities Are Already 'Green'

It's probably more environmentally friendly to walk to Safeway than to drive here.

In a recent article at The Guardian titled "Going 'green' is more than shopping at Whole Foods and driving a Prius," Marc Bamuthi Joseph makes the case that lower-income and minority communities face significant barriers to "going green," and that we should strive to find more inclusive ways to bring them into the fold. They usually can't afford to shop organic (assuming stores that offer such foods are even available nearby), and people that are struggling to pay their rent definitely can't afford new hybrid or electric vehicles. It has to be about more than spending lots of money, because that's simply not an option for many Americans. Lower-income communities are also more likely to face the immediate challenges of crime and poor health, among other things, so environmentalism isn't high on their list of priorities.

The author makes some valid points, but he ignores the fact that lower-income people are often already the most "green" residents in a city. They're far less likely to own cars, and use transit much more frequently; they live in smaller homes, which are often part of multi-family structures; and a greater number of people usually share that smaller space. Somewhere around 70% of an individual's carbon emissions come from transportation and housing (mostly heating and cooling); its the people that drive less and share more space that are the real environmentalists. 

The problem is that most lower-income residents don't aspire to this lifestyle. It's often unpleasant and degrading, and they live this way out of necessity, not choice. They're environmentalists in the same way that people in the slums of India or the favelas of Brazil are environmentalists (though to a much lesser degree, of course). The challenge isn't getting poor people to live like the yuppies shopping at Whole Foods, it's to make the environmentally-friendly city environment more appealing to everyone, rich or poor: to improve our urban schools, to provide more options for convenient and comfortable public and active transportation, to reduce crime and increase public safety, and to ensure that there's enough housing for everyone who wants to live in the city, regardless of income. We don't need to convince people to care about the environment as much as we need them to live like they do.

What's the Goal of Neo-Liberal Housing Policy? Actually Solving the Problem.

Bellevue, WA doing what it takes to keep housing affordable. Photo from the City of Bellevue.

In a stunningly awful Atlantic Cities article published this morning, history student James Zarsadiaz* blames neo-liberalism for literally everything:

In the economic context of cities, neo-liberal ideology encourages free enterprise, open competition, deregulation, and the dismantling of public goods. It relies on the private market for quotidian matters such as education, health care, housing, transportation, and even amusement. Instead of being seen as rights or services, these become commodities for purchase.

Putting aside the question of whether amusement is a right, a service, or a commodity, and why that even matters, let's first look at the worldview of neo-liberalism generally.

The neo-liberal perspective is one I'd describe as a logically pragmatic and policy-driven concern for social welfare. It's technocratic but not inhuman. It recognizes that government intervention serves a purpose (in contrast to conservatism) without leaping to the conclusion that if government intervention is useful in one place it must be useful elsewhere, or everywhere (as is sometimes the case in more progressive circles). Like all forms of liberalism, it's deeply concerned with equity and social welfare.

These aren't perfectly fair descriptions of ideologies on either the right or the left, but they illustrate the extremes between which neo-liberalism lives. It can't be defined much more specifically because neo-liberalism relies on context, logic, and pragmatism in guiding policy, rather than maxims or formulas. I suspect many who describe themselves as neo-liberals are strong proponents of a single-payer health care system, like Medicare for all (a powerful government intervention) while advocating forcefully for far less stringent regulations on urban development, especially dense mixed-use and residential construction. There is no contradiction here because neo-liberals recognize that the market for health care and the market for housing are not the same, and different markets require different interventions to keep them running smoothly. Some require a strong hand, others only a light touch.

Mr. Zarsadiaz's article is focused on housing, and although he doesn't actually propose, well, anything at all really, what he seems to be saying is that we need more government intervention in the housing market. Gentrification is pushing people out of their homes, so we need more affordable housing policies: rent control, inclusionary zoning fees, etc.

The neo-liberal response to this is four-fold:

  • First, it acknowledges that there is a place for government to assist the needy in securing housing at reasonable personal cost. Some, myself included, will even argue that we should actually spend more on affordable housing and rent subsidies than we do now.
  • Second, it notes that policies that limit the height and density of new development drive up prices by making it nearly (or completely) impossible for the supply of housing to meet the demand for it. This drives up market-rate rents by ensuring low vacancy rates.
  • Third, it notes that inclusionary zoning policies and rent control further limit the supply of new homes by taking wide swathes of land off the market for redevelopment, which compounds the problem of rents for the remaining land. Inclusionary zoning fees are often set aside for building new affordable housing developments, but they paradoxically increase land costs and make the construction of affordable housing more expensive.
  • Fourth, and last, these points are tied together. On the one hand we limit development at individual parcels via floor-area-ratio limits and height restrictions, driving up costs. Then we limit what development there is to only certain parts of the city, redlining any existing rent-controlled units (or the vast amount of land dedicated to single-family housing), further driving up costs. Then we try to build affordable housing on land that is vastly overpriced (as a result of our own policies), and the amount we provide falls pathetically short of the need, often by an order of magnitude or more.

There is nothing sensible about this in a world where public dollars are limited. This is a path that has never worked -- has never even come close to working, no matter how its been applied. And yet many would propose that we don't go far enough, that we require more restrictions, less development and more rent control. Unless these advocates can find a way to raise billions more dollars via zoning fees without shutting down development entirely, this is never going to be a solution.

The neo-liberal answer is to accept the utter failure of the current regime and to pursue a policy framework that is both logically coherent and internally consistent. It would mean more competition among developers, and perhaps even more total profit, but far less profit per project. With an adequate supply of housing, developers would be required to rent and sell their units at much closer to the actual cost of planning and construction, rather than at the inflated costs driven by an arbitrary scarcity. We'd have more housing (and therefore more residents, and more revenue), and instead of funding affordable housing on the backs of only new developments we could share that burden more equitably, and the lower cost of construction would translate directly into not only more spending on affordable housing, but more efficient spending—more units, and fewer dollars per unit.

This isn't about a commitment to the laissez-faire, a belief that markets are the answer for everything. It's a belief in the relevance of context and empiricism. And in the context of housing, freer markets—those that have done the most to match supply with demand—have been far more successful at staving off gentrification.

*I refuse to write all four of his names, and am loathe to acknowledge his status as a PhD candidate

The Chart That Says (Almost) Everything You Need to Know About Housing Affordability

Tech hubs across the country have had a lot of success with job creation and productivity growth over the past few decades, but they've seen a pretty striking divergence of fates when it comes to housing affordability. Those that allowed more residential construction (relative to current housing stock), like Austin and Raleigh, NC, tended to fare pretty well. Those that allowed less, like San Francisco and San Jose, have done much more poorly. This chart, from Jed Kolko at Trulia, says it all:

This chart shows is the median sale price per foot compared to the amount of construction relative to existing housing stock since 1990. Source: Trulia.

Raleigh, NC, has seen its population nearly double from 222,000 in 1990 to 423,000 today, and as the chart shows, it's more than doubled its housing stock in order to keep up. Austin, likewise, has grown about 70 percent since 1990 and allowed its housing stock to increase by more than 90 percent over that same time frame. As booming tech hubs (and successful, popular places in general), these cities have stayed shockingly affordable.

Contrast that with Middlesex county, where the population has grown by 22 percent but the housing stock only grew by 14 percent. Or San Francisco, where the population increased by 14 percent but only 11 percent more units were built. By square foot, San Francisco is almost five times more expensive than Austin. Housing affordability is an extremely complex issue, but if you want to make the point in the simplest possible terms you can't do much better than this chart: build more, pay less.

But that's not the whole story. What this doesn't address is the impact of price on overall (or latent) demand, a subtle but incredibly important concept. Cities where the housing stock grew faster than the population managed to keep their prices relatively low, but they were successful not because they kept ahead of population growth, but because their housing stock kept ahead of latent demand. The important question isn't "how many people moved there?" but "how many people would like to move there?"

The more successful you are at keeping prices low, the larger that number's going to be, and, in turn, the more you must build. That may sound like a catch-22, but most cities have some finite level of demand even at fairly low prices, and cities can aid each other by serving as reasonable substitutes — I may prefer to live in San Francisco, but I might consider San Diego if the price is right. If San Diego is expensive too, I might as well bite the bullet and go with the city I'll enjoy more.

The key, and what so many cities have sadly failed to do, is to stay ahead of the market, wherever the market is for your specific city, and thereby maintain some reasonable level of rental vacancy. Once you fall behind on those measures, things start to spiral out of control as low vacancies drive up rents, and high rents drive up land prices. Those land prices then require developers to ask higher rents to recoup their investment, and you end up in a situation where it may be nearly impossible to bring rents and home prices back down. To stay with the market requires constant reassessment, and it's why development goals like "we will build 5,000 new units this year" are basically meaningless. The absolute number of units you build is far less important than whether it's actually enough to satisfy demand.

Tech hubs aren't the only places in the country struggling with affordability problems, and this general relationship of "build more, pay less" is likely to hold true for virtually any growing city. Even Houston, with its horrible sprawl-dependent growth patterns, has at least managed to stay affordable by building enough units to house anyone that wants to live there. They've captured a lot of talented but price-sensitive residents by providing a good value, even if it means putting up with sweltering heat for half the year and blowing tons of money on car dependency. If a lot of those people had been able to afford San Francisco, San Jose, or San Diego instead, they'd be making more money, doing much less harm to the environment, and enjoying much more pleasant weather. But density's a dirty word, so that didn't happen.

(Hat tip to The Atlantic Cities for bringing this chart to my attention.)

Sometimes Transit Isn't the (Only) Solution(!)

A classmate mentioned this article today, about Atlanta's snowpocalypse and the role that poor regional governance and an over-reliance on cars played in the fiasco. Give it a read, it's interesting. Don't worry, I'll wait.

Done?

Okay, so it kind of seemed like the problem wasn't so much a lack of buses that caused the Atlanta metro's problems, but rather poor coordination between the region's incredible number of municipalities, right? The author even says in the opening paragraph that some children had to spend the night in buses, and I can tell you from experience in Seattle that buses don't do any better in snow than most cars. It just seemed like a stretch to try to place the bulk of the blame on a lack of transit -- most of which would have been stuck on the road like everyone else.

Here's what I had to say on Facebook:
I'm as anti-sprawl as they come, and generally consider Atlanta an embarrassment to smart transportation, but this article makes a much stronger case for regional cooperation/consolidation than transportation alternatives. I suspect MARTA's rail services were running just fine, but the backbone of just about any transit system is its buses, and as the author noted, buses were stranded just like cars. No doubt this highlights how fragile the apparent robustness of a car-based system can actually be, but this looks like much more a problem of poor governance overall than poor transportation policy specifically.
I do think it has implications for the LA region though, which is also a constellation of local governments that don't always cooperate very well (read: Beverly Hills).
Not that a better transportation system couldn't have made the situation more bearable. An article on Streetsblog yesterday notes that, for a downtown Atlanta resident, snowpocalypse wasn't so bad when you weren't dependent on getting around by car. But lots of cities deal with snow all the time, cars and all, and don't have much trouble at all. Atlanta's transit system sucks, but their fragmented governmental structure seems to be what really failed them over the past several days.