The sharp edges of urban density

Another day, another public discussion and debate about the density of a proposed new development in Hamilton.

This week, it’s a plan for three 14-storey condo towers along with townhouses and other units at the site of the former Delta Secondary School on Main Street between Graham Avenue South and Wexford Avenue South. While these aren’t the 40-plus-storey monster towers proposed — and in some cases approved — at other developments, the project overall is big, nearly 1,000 new units, with all the accompanying growth challenges such as parking and potential congestion.

About 400 residents attended a recent open house put on by the developer, and some raised concerns about impact, including height and density. It’s not surprising given the existing nature of the established neighbourhood. And it’s in good company.

Other, much taller, projects have been proposed, opposed and ultimately approved in recent months, including in Strathcona neighbourhood and on the Stoney Creek waterfront. And one proposed for the largely-vacant plaza at Upper Sherman and Fennell is actually the source of a citizen letter-writing campaign. All the cases are unique, but all share some common traits, chiefly the imposition of a lot more residential density on neighbourhoods largely dominated by less dense development, often singlefamily homes.

We’re not planning experts, and don’t pretend to know how much is too much or the right amount for a residential neighbourhood. But you don’t have to be an expert to see this is a recipe for friction and frustration for all parties.

Here’s one thing that even we amateurs should be able to agree on: We need more density across the board. Even with the provincially-imposed — and locally rejected — urban boundary expansion, new development within the existing boundary is essential to meet provincial growth expectation targets.

So if this isn’t going to be massive urban sprawl, which is unsustainable, it has to be increased density within existing neighbourhoods.

But once we all agree on that, in principle, the rubber meets the road. It’s one thing for citizens to say they understand and agree with the need to “densify,” and it’s another thing for them to accept that once they see what it looks like. Once they see that the neighbourhood where they may have lived for decades, where they raised families, paid mortgages, went for countless walks and lived their lives, is going to look and feel different. That has a way of tempering understanding and tolerance.

And so we have this process, where the developer and city introduce a project, call meetings and get input from neighbours. Very often, especially in this era where intensification is a key objective for nearly all cities, residents aren’t happy with what they see, at least initially.

It would be easy to paint this discussion in black and white, but it isn’t an accurate or fair portrayal. Developers are not in business to minimize profitability, quite the opposite. So they propose development that best serves their purposes, with some consideration given to municipal and neighbourhood priorities. Typically, that adds up to big and tall, which isn’t what the neighbours had in mind.

So they push back, hard. Sometimes they do it through their municipal representatives, sometimes they launch development appeals. Here’s where the provincial government puts its finger on the scales. Those appeals end up with the Ontario Land Tribunal. And it rarely, if ever, decides on the side of municipalities and residents.

Most residents understand the need to intensify, they just don’t agree on matters of scale and height. Most developers are not unreasonable people, but the more they compromise the more it impacts their bottom line. (Ask yourself, and answer honestly, if you’d be much different in that regard.)

All of this, warts and all, is just the modern reality we live in. Urban development must and is changing. That means there are going to be disagreements, many tugs of war, and not everyone is going to emerge happy. What rankles most, though, is that the final appeal mechanism is a stacked deck. You cannot blame developers, the city or your neighbours for that. But it’s not right or fair.