Brandon Donnelly — Daily insights for city builders. Published since 2013 by Toronto-based real estate developer Brandon Donnelly. — Page 693

Back in March and April, there was a belief that big and dense cities were going to pose a serious problem in the fight against COVID-19. The narrative was that the benefits of urban density suddenly flip to glaring negatives during a pandemic . Elevators are a problem. Public transit is a problem. Busy streets and public spaces are a problem. Instead of density, you want dispersion. There was also some speculation that COVID-19 cases would be somewhat correlated with colder climates.

The data that we are seeing today suggests the opposite. Note the above chart by Axios . On a per capita basis, COVID-19 cases are now the lowest -- and below the national average -- in large US cities with populations greater than 1 million people. Where cases are the highest, again on a per capita basis, is in rural areas. Non-metro areas less than 10,000 people. The county with the highest rate also isn't the coldest of places. It's Childress County, Texas, where the rate is about 1,265.3 cases per 100,000 people.

I have a lot of questions about the most important factors affecting transmission rates. Is mask wearing, for example, more important than average temperatures? What is the impact of socio-economic status? I am seeing maps that, unfortunately, suggest this plays a meaningful role. What is really driving these so-called "hot spots?" But what seems clear to me is that density is not necessarily destiny during this pandemic.

P.S. Here's a related article on hospital capacities across the United States.

Chart: Axios

I took a class during my undergraduate degree about the material culture of the Victorian era. I took it mostly for fun and because I found the lessons relevant to architecture. But it also allowed me to write papers about things like gin (though I remember not doing very well on that one).

My big takeaway from that class, which continues to stick with me to this day, is about how difficult it was for the Victorians to process and ultimately accept new technologies and ideas. There seemed to be immense skepticism and concern for everything that was novel.

Take, for example, the first ever escalator . An invention of the Victorian era, there were very serious concerns at the time about what such rapid changes in elevation would do to the human body. That's why they initially gave people booze at the top of the ride. A little something to calm the nerves after such a traumatic experience.

This, of course, seems silly today. But I always come back to it when I see us trying to process new technologies. Will posterity eventually think that we too were being silly for worrying? Will they think it's cute that we thought social media was turning us all into narcissistic and envious creatures? Probably.

Still, there's no denying that material culture impacts us all. I was reminded of this while reading this WIRED article by Craig Mod called, " The Glorious, Almost-Disconnected Boredom of My Walk in Japan ." ( Tim Ferriss shared it in his most recent newsletter.)

Craig does ultra-marathon walks. And the article is about one that he did in Japan. While this may seem like a recipe for a whole lot of nothing, there are things to be learned here. In it, he talks about how he rationed his use of technology on these walks and how "boredom" became something of value.

In the context of a walk like this, “boredom” is a goal, the antipode of mindless connectivity, constant stimulation, anger and dissatisfaction. I put “boredom” in quotes because the boredom I’m talking about fosters a heightened sense of presence. To be “bored” is to be free of distraction.

Perhaps the biggest drawback of our phones is that they allow us to fill every second of boredom with stuff. Have 3 three seconds to spare? Pull out the phone. On the one hand it's nice to never be bored. But on the other hand, it's harder to be contemplative. It's harder to go deep into things. And it's harder to find that right kind of "bored."

Or maybe we're just being fuddy-duddies who will one day be made fun of by future generations when somebody decides to teach a university course about early 21st century material culture.

The drywall started this week at Mackay Laneway House . This is a fun part of the construction process because it is that moment in time where, very quickly, the space transforms from a full on construction site to something that starts to resemble a livable space.

What you are seeing above is a double height space (and 8 foot long skylight) that was incorporated into a sloping roof on the side of the house that faces the existing backyard. This is a design move that I felt pretty strongly about from the outset. Gabriel Fain , who is the project's architect, likes to joke that it was really the only design directive.

The move does a few things.

1) It is a way to get light down and into the house without having a window facing the existing backyard. So it mitigates privacy concerns. 2) It frees up the north wall of the house, creating a place for a TV, art, photo backdrop, or whatever. You only have so many empty walls in a house of this size. And 3) it looks really cool and frames a large tree that overhangs the house.

Stay tuned for more progress photos. The best way to do that is to follow @globizen .