Brandon Donnelly — Daily insights for city builders. Published since 2013 by Toronto-based real estate developer Brandon Donnelly. — Page 425

Toronto has a lot more CCTV cameras than I would have thought.

According to this (2022?) data from Comparitech , there is estimated to be about 19,236 cameras installed around the Greater Toronto Area. With a population of around 6.31 million people, this translates into a per capita rate of 3.05 (CCTV cameras per 1,000 people). What this means is that there is almost surely footage of me enjoying a late-night shawarma sandwich after the bar somewhere on the streets of Toronto.

In some ways, this is a high number of cameras. Tokyo, which is usually considered to be the largest metro area in the world with nearly 40 million people, only has 1.06 cameras per 1,000 people. Dhaka is 0.71. Sao Paulo is 1.04. Osaka is 1.57. And Montreal is 1.03. Though to be totally fair here, Rio de Janeiro is up at 3.34 (and it may be the most dangerous city mentioned in this post). Paris is 4.04. New York is 6.87. Los Angeles is 8.77. And London is 13.35.

But where things get really exciting is in authoritarian places. Moscow is estimated to have 16.85 CCTV cameras per 1,000 people. And in China as a whole, there is estimated to be roughly 540 million cameras scattered around its cities, which works out to an average of 372.8 cameras for every 1,000 people. For a city like Shanghai, this crudely equals something like 10.6 million cameras.

It turns out that surveillance is pretty important for things other than shawarma-eating videos :

Vyborov wasn’t arrested that day, but the police informed him that he was under surveillance through Sfera, one of Moscow’s face recognition systems, for participating in unsanctioned rallies. Considered one of the most efficient surveillance systems, Sfera led to the detention of  141 people  last year. “Facial recognition, and video cameras in general in a totalitarian state, are an absolute evil,” Vyborov says.

Here's the other thing. Safety is usually touted as the reason to have lots of cameras. But Comparitech's data suggests that there's an almost non-existent correlation between lots of cameras and lower crime. I mean, just look at Tokyo. It is basically the model megacity, and its per capita camera rate is only 1.06. The real utility, it would seem, is using cameras and face recognition software to restrict personal freedoms.

As far as I know, there are now at least two mercury-like and bean-like public art sculptures in the US by Anish Kapoor . The first is, of course, in Chicago's Millennium Park (pictured above). Commonly referred to as just "The Bean", the sculpture was dedicated in 2006 and, since then, has gained international fame as a solid place to take a selfie .

But as of this year, there is now a second "mini-bean" in New York's Tribeca neighborhood. Sitting literally underneath 56 Leonard (a residential tower designed by Herzog & de Meuron), this bean varietal was first announced in 2008, but has taken a few years to be completed. The building itself was completed about 5 five years ago.

It turns out though, that all beans are not made equal. Here's some initial feedback from Bloomberg CityLab's Kristin Capps:

New York’s half-bean feels half-baked: a disappointing imitation for the city and a franchise play by the artist. For New York to install the lesser version of a Chicago icon reeks of second-city status. And while the original sculpture is still a treasure, the second iteration feels like a monument from 20 years ago — because it is.

But it's all perception. If Chicago's bean had never been unveiled in 2006, and this was the first shiny urban selfie bean, then I'm sure we'd all be headed to Lower Manhattan with our phones. But instead, here we are talking about how it "reeks of second-city status" and how it is the " eyesore that no one asked for ".

It's all very fascinating if you think about it. And it's a perfect example of why blockchains are proving to be so valuable in the world of art. Because with art, provenance and authenticity are everything. You need to know where it came from, who made it, and that it's scarce. And as we can see here, it can be the difference between loving a bean and hating a bean.

Photo by  Wicker Woodsong  on  Unsplash

Let's add some historical context to yesterday's post about autonomous vehicles. As the regular non-autonomous version of cars started to infiltrate our cities in the early 20th century, largely following the creation of the mass-produced Ford Model T , there was a general view that cars were dangerous and a menace to cities . Arguably, not much has changed.

So in the 1930s, the Federal Housing Authority decided to publish a pamphlet explaining what street networks it thought were suitable for this new emerging car world and which street networks were not. The exact terms that they used were "bad" and "good", and here's what that looked like (taken from this CNU article ):

The "bad" ones are largely how the US liked to design its cities before the arrival of the car. Some historic settlements, like Boston and Manhattan south of 14th street were based on different street logics, but as far back as the 1680s, William Penn had already started laying out a grid iron plan for Philadelphia . And in reality, this kind of street pattern goes all the way back to ancient cities.

However, when the car arrived, these grid iron plans were thought to offer an inadequate amount of separation between people and machine. The solution was to optimize around the car and introduce a clear hierarchy of different streets. Big streets for moving cars quickly, and smaller streets, like cul-de-sacs, for people to live on.

These "good" examples, of course, represent the modern suburb. But we now recognize that these types of street networks are unequivocally terrible for walkability, the environment, public health, social equity, and a whole host of other things. I mean, look at this extreme example of two suburban homes in Orlando whose backyards adjoin but are technically separated by 7 miles and a 20-minute drive!

My point with all of this is that, for many/most at the time, this was progress . Cars were the future and there was optimism about the kind of freedoms and other benefits that they would bring to people. And this optimism is perhaps not all that different from what many people feel today, myself included, when it comes to autonomous vehicles.

So on the one hand, you could point to the car and say, "look at all the damage that this thing did to our cities. Let's not do that again. Autonomous vehicles must be stopped." But that's akin to wishing the car was never invented. Another option is to point to the negative externalities associated with the car and say, "look at what we've done. We can do better. Let's make our cities better."

Positive change, no matter how late, is always a possibility.