Brandon Donnelly — Daily insights for city builders. Published since 2013 by Toronto-based real estate developer Brandon Donnelly. — Page 810

There's a narrative out there that all developers are uncreative and greedy, and if only they would start being more creative and generous, we could solve the housing affordability problem that is plaguing many (if not all) global cities. In other words, the solution to increasing the supply of low and middle incoming housing is simply a psychological reframing on the part of developers.

The problem with this mental model is that it ignores reality. Development happens on the margin . The market is competitive. It's difficult to find developable sites. And it's a challenge to make projects work. More often than not, you have to say no as a developer. No I can't buy this land. No I can't build housing here. And no the market will not support new office space here. Sorry, but no. (See cost-plus pricing .)

Development needs to give back. On the blog we usually call this city building. And that's because it implies a greater sense of civic responsibility. Developers aren't just building one-off buildings, they're building a city. I believe wholeheartedly in this. But the belief that projects can be saddled with an endless array of government fees and civic contributions is a problematic one. There are limits -- because markets have limits.

If only city building were that easy.

I thoroughly enjoy the way that Paul Graham reasons through arguments. There's something hyper rational about it. And even if you happen to disagree with his position(s), you still end up appreciating the way he has taken you through his logic. I guess that's what you get when you combine a computer scientist with someone who clearly likes to write.

His latest essay is about how to do great work. Conventional wisdom, he explains, has it that you really need two things: ability and determination. That's how you win. And that's how you create new things. But Paul makes the case for a third ingredient -- one that is arguably even more telling than the first two. Here's an excerpt:

If I had to put the recipe for genius into one sentence, that might be it: to have a disinterested obsession with something that matters.

Aren't I forgetting about the other two ingredients? Less than you might think. An obsessive interest in a topic is both a proxy for ability and a substitute for determination. Unless you have sufficient mathematical aptitude, you won't find series interesting. And when you're obsessively interested in something, you don't need as much determination: you don't need to push yourself as hard when curiosity is pulling you.

He refers to this as his "Bus Ticket Theory of Genius," because bus ticket collectors are an example, in his view, of a group with a "disinterested obsession." They're not collecting bus tickets for any particular reason, other than because of interest. And when you have this kind of obsession with things that (ultimately) matter, it can lead to important discoveries.

Think Darwin and his obsession with natural history.

But the other reason this topic resonates with me is because it makes the case for passion projects, side hustles, creative pursuits, and all other irresponsible things that seem to get harder to fit in the older we all get. I am believer in this. There's tremendous value in indulging in the things that stoke our curiosity, even if they might seem to silly to others.

And so I will leave you all with this final thought/excerpt:

It might be at least as useful to ask yourself: if you could take a year off to work on something that probably wouldn't be important but would be really interesting, what would it be?

Alex Bozikovic's review of the book Canadian Modern Architecture: 1967 to the Present raises something potentially troubling. Here's what I'm talking about:

It is by turns an exhilarating and depressing narrative: Canada, in this book, appears as a country that announced itself on the world stage in the 1960s and 1970s with incredible ambition but, since then, has retreated toward the mean.

It is potentially troubling not only because I believe in the value of good design, but because I believe that architecture embodies the ethos and cultural context in which it was created.

And so if you believe that our architectural ambitions have retreated toward mediocrity, you might also surmise that our overall level of ambition has retreated toward the same.

That should be viewed as a serious problem.