In a recent Facebook post my friend and colleague Steve Mouzon, author of Original Green, posed an important question:

"Why is it that when there is an attempt to recover a lost tradition, that which is built is not the tradition but rather a cartoon of that tradition --have we lost the ability to see clearly?"

I think our habits of building are fractured and out of sync. We can't seem to capture the rhythm of the mechanics of design and construction well enough to transcend a stilted mechanical approach. The people who built the traditional houses of the late 19th and early 20th centuries had habits of building that were reasonably intact. We try our best to be fluent in a language that, if not dead is at least seriously wounded. While some struggle to produce drawings that communicate well, others struggle to read them well and then launch ahead sure that they've "got it". We trust our brains when we probably have little reason to. Everyday tradeoffs in building present themselves with reliable frequency. We are not wired to be obsessive or hyper-vigilant when performing carpentry or ordering lumber. At some point, you believe that you have a handle on the task at hand. Even hearing someone explain that "We do this because..." can feel abstract and a somehow disconnected. Skipping over the surface of a tradition feels pretty profound, so you don't know that you are supposed to be diving deep. We are thrilled at building something that seems darned good compared to today's usual habits of building, so we can't see a more sublime experience just a few steps away.

Imagine that you are a housewright in 1889. You spent the winter producing window sashes, doors, moldings in your barn with the collection of hand planes and the Asher Benjamin handbook you inherited from your dad. In the spring you lay up a stone basement and start framing a house. When it comes time to install those windows, doors and trim your grasp of to how the pieces go together makes so much more sense than someone setting windows and coping trim today. Whether in the design studio or the field, it is rare for us to get Malcolm Gladwell 10,000 Hours in on the full arc of the work, on the habits of building. So, yes, Steve we have lost the ability to see clearly.  These days we see as if through a glass darkly. We need the discipline and structure of craft and habit to recover our sight. Today the flow that emerges from that discipline and structure is not available to most. On a good day some talented people provide us with some well-intended choreography of a dance few of us have ever seen performed by someone with real mastery.

 

Writing is hard.  Sarah makes it look easy.  Take a look at how she describes the mechanics of a team exercise from the Incremental Development Alliance's Small Developer Boot Camp.  She lays out that rather technical set of tasks and rolls right into the real world limitations of the moldering zoning codes you find in most cities these days.

Accidental Urbanist

My favorite quote from Sarah:

"Everyone has sexy dreams, but as a developer it’s important to maintain a long-term, monogamous relationship with math."

This afternoon I got another phone call from someone convinced that they should develop condominiums and sell them. I am really struggling to find a better way to communicate on this really basic point. I feel like the guy in the Far Side cartoon above.

 

If you have the know how required to produce buildings that people live and/or work in, using that very valuable resource to produce houses or condos that you sell to people has a huge opportunity cost.  Opportunity cost is a big deal, as in lost opportunity and wasted opportunity.  What else could you have been doing instead of building and selling?

I cannot emphasize this enough. If you have the wherewithal to build something, Don't sell it.  Hold onto it and rent out space in your building. The market for new or renovated rental buildings is hugely under-supplied in most markets, particularly in anything even remotely resembling walkable urbanism.  There are lots of places where a couple of decent buildings will have a wonderful effect upon the neighborhood.  The people who fill in the missing teeth in the neighborhood will do well, while doing good.

 

Our culture has created completely unrealistic expectations for what is supposed to happen when you buy a home. Avoid putting yourself in a place where you have to deliver on all the delusional nonsense that fills the heads of people who watch too much HGTV. Build to hold and rent. Build in places where the amenities are exotic stuff like proximity to transit, day care, $2 coffee and a genuine local bar.