2010s alienation

As the start of 2020 approaches, I have been agonizing over a thought piece to write on the 2010s.  While reading through "best of the decade" articles for inspiration, it dawned on me how removed I am from the trends that have defined the past 10 years. The 2010s, a Guardian columnist writes, have been both a "decade of crisis" and alienation, in which the foundations of post-Cold War capitalist society have started to crumble at the very moment western youth become self-absorbed in their social media feeds and self-improvement. Life has become both fast-paced and erratic, predicated on Promethean multi-tasking (and multi-focusing) capabilities. And yet, neither the global upheavals in politics and the environment nor the lifestyle changes brought about by social media have significantly affected me.

First, with regards to crisis: this decade has had its share of catastrophes. I still vividly remember going to the UCLA campus (I was studying for a master's at the time) the morning after Donald Trump's election. The emotions that I then felt, a mixture of sadness, rage and grief-were more powerful than any I had ever experienced outside of a couple family tragedies. I nearly got into a scuffle with a pro-Trump heckler I encountered near the Math Science Building while partaking in an anti-Trump protest march during a break from class.

Protests on the UCLA Campus following Donald Trump's Election, November 10, 2016

I had avoided the news for a few years prior to the 2016 election. My involvement in heated campus political debates as an undergraduate student had left me with an aversion for partisan feuding, despite maintaining strong political beliefs. I went into urban planning partly because I (wrongly) thought it would be a way to implement progressive policies without having to fight political battles. However, the threatening nature of Donald Trump's candidacy combined with the even more unsettling feat of his election victory prompted me to renew my focus.

The balance between staying informed and keeping sane has been tough. I have long struggled with OCD and anxiety. Scanning through provocative online headlines in the first year following the election led to many restless and unproductive afternoons. I have gone so far as to delete Apple News from my phone but still read the Atlantic and New York Times on a weekly basis.

Still, despite my revived news interest, I don't feel a strong sense of personal impact from the events of the past decade. President Trump's racist, classist and isolationist policies and rhetoric have not (yet) personally affected me as a middle-class, straight, Eurasian male. The more volatile climate has led to more wildfire and flooding episodes here in southern California but I have an insulated home with modern, air-conditioning, heating and Netflix. Not being able to go outside for a few hours on a certain fall or winter day is a disappointment, not an inconvenience.

Smoke-filled Vista of West Hollywood during the Bel Air Fire, December 2017

Similarly, I feel out of place with the trend towards constant "multi-tasking." The growing sophistication of smartphones in the last decade, coupled with the emergence of social media platforms like Instagram, has enabled everyone to do everything all at once. Everyone that is, except for me.

I have always been thorough in my processing of information, preferring lengthy travel books and encyclopedias as a young reader to the "For Kids" summaries favored by my peers. For much of the last decade, I strived towards an academic/research career (first in history and then in urban planning), immersing myself ever more deeply into the thorny details of weighty theoretical questions.

 Smartphones

While much of the world moved from traditional news journalism to Buzzfeed, I progressed from occasionally reading the New Yorker to regularly reading articles in the Journal of the American Planning Association. While I sought out the life of the mind, others lived the life of the meme.

This is not to say that I never multi-task or superficially scan social media. When typing a piece on my computer (as I'm doing now), it can be incredibly difficult for me not to open another window in order to scan headlines in the New York Times or London Review of Books. However, I cannot pretend-as most can-that such switches of attention are productive or even momentary. One scan of the page leads me to read one article, click on three links and so on. It is the idea of the millennial as a net-savvy multi-tasker that excludes me.

At the other extreme, the anxiety created by digital multi-tasking and global tumult has made "mindfulness" meditation increasingly popular. "Mindfulness" sessions aim to reduce anxiety by drawing participants' attention to the present moment, through techniques such as deep breathing and listening to statements of self-affirmation.

As someone who periodically participates in mindfulness meditation, I believe it has many therapeutic benefits. Meditation helps me acknowledge the subjectivity of my thoughts and emotions in stressful situations.

And yet, many mindfulness videos and programs I have encountered espouse foolishly optimistic attitudes towards the world and life. For instance, morning meditations I have listened to on Youtube repeat phrases1 like "Today is going to be a great day" or express gratitude2 for such modern "miracles" as "the electric light," "stoves," and "automobiles." The former statement seems out of touch with a society in which many people struggle to pay education or medical bills. The latter papers over the fact that many modern conveniences also contribute to climate change.

Much of the past decade's pop culture mindfulness, which implicitly demands a retreat from the public sphere, amounts to nothing more than escapism. Like boozy brunches and Netflix binges, mass meditation has served only as a momentary distraction from a world on the brink.

For much of the 2010s, I have felt isolated in a world that teeters between chaos and distraction. This isolation has been compounded by my social anxiety and awkwardness. In the last few months, the future has begun to look more promising. I have come to terms with some of my inner demons and began to accept my unique personality.

The next decade will likely be even more tumultuous. Climate change will accelerate. Trump won't go down without a fight, with social media being a prime battleground.

Therefore, I feel compelled to take a stand in the 2020s rather than sitting it out. My recent personal crisis has inspired me to express my ideas and opinions. To provide a digital outlet for deep thinking on an array of topics, communicated in terms anyone can understand.

My first big project for 2020 will be to upgrade and expand this blog (more details coming soon). Its hard to project what will happen afterward. I look forward to the journey.

1. See Today is a Great Day-10 Minute Guided Morning Meditation. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nhMinG8RNek
2. See Louise Hay's Morning Meditation. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4jNV1FV-_Os&t=9s

Architectural Aesthetics and Density Politics in Los Angeles

Density is now a hot-button topic in LA politics. The high price of housing in the region has drawn attention to the city’s byzantine land use regulations, which restrict the density and height of multi-family development while burdening new units with requirements to provide off-street parking spaces. While some advocacy groups (looking at you, Abundant Housing LA) support zoning reforms and other housing-friendly policies, they face strong opposition from both local neighborhood associations and prominent politicians.

Some of the opposition can be easily explained in terms of rational self-interest (e.g. a building blocking a view of the Hollywood sign) or generational conflict (Baby Boomers clinging to a mid-century suburban ideal versus city-loving middle-class Millenials). But given the visceral nature of anti-growth sentiment, which at times goes against the self-interest of the parties involved (e.g. homeowners in Westwood opposing high-density commercial developments that would increase the value of their property), I suspect that a larger psychological bias is at play.

A Google search for “ugly development” yields more than 82.5 million results, with seven of the top nine housing-related results specifically criticizing multi-family housing design and two of these being articles criticizing current densification in Santa Monica. As if Google can read the sub-conscious, a related image search which surfaces at the bottom of the page bears the terms “Modern Apartment Buildings.”

 ©Creative Commons (Unsourced Photos taken by Author)

Dingbat (Top), Concrete monster (middle), Concrete monster+ “Hipster Fencing” (bottom)

In an article from several years back, that was cross-published on Zocalo Public Square and the development-skeptic news site CityWatch, architect Greg Goldin denigrates’ Los Angeles’ “public architecture” (I.e. everything excluding the single-family residence) as “resoundingly mediocre.”

Might it be the case that popular animosity towards density in Los Angeles stems at least partly from the low-grade design of its 3+ story buildings?

Having been on an apartment search for the past three months, I have found plenty of supporting evidence. Many of the region’s high-density neighborhoods, such as West Hollywood and Koreatown, are littered with a mix of tacky dingbats (sorry, Dingbat lovers, being regionally- and historically-specific does not compensate for aesthetic deficiencies) and monochrome concrete boxes which look like they’re made out of either fine-grained paper mache or painted-over cardboard. Post-2000 structures usually add on an annoying “hipster fence” and glass façade. I have seldom encountered apartment buildings that either appealed to my aesthetic sensibilities or conveyed a unique sense of place.

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What might an alternative high-density architecture look like? When I ponder this question, I think back to my mid-June visit to Chicago, arguably the world’s first high-rise city. The “Loop”, as the city’s central business district is referred to, boasts many eye-pleasing skyscrapers including the Chicago Board of Trade and Frank Lloyd Wright's "Rookery" building.

Chicago Board of Trade (Top), The Rookery (Bottom)

Collectively, the high-rise facades make for some impressive skyline views.

  “City Beautiful”. Views of the Chicago Loop looking west from Millenium Park 

While the Loop is a classic Central Business District, with land uses overwhelmingly commercial and tourist-oriented in nature, the brick-and-mortar turn-of-the-century elegance extends well into the inner-ring suburbs, including along this commercial/apartment corridor nearWrigley Field.

Wrigleyville street, spotted from the "L"

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LA should not mimic Chicago’s architecture as it densifies. Nor does it need to. Hidden amidst central Los Angeles’s boxy behemoths, one can find stunning duplexes, triplexes and even three to five story apartment buildings constructed in the Spanish Colonial Revival and Art Deco styles. Nearly all of these were constructed before World War II.

Spanish Revival Adobe Duplex in Fairfax Neighborhood

Colonial Revival apartment building in Beverly Hills

Two months after visiting Chicago, I flew across the Atlantic to Madrid. While walking off jet lag during my first evening, I stumbled upon the Gran Via, a majestic commercial street that was largely developed during the early twentieth century. 

Gran Via Street Scene

Despite their young age, many of the buildings have adapted the baroque features (e.g. elaborate marble columns and cartouches) that characterize the architecture of Madrid's historic center.

Madrid historic center: Plaza Mayor (top) and Palacio Real (bottom)

The art deco edifice of the Circulo de Bellas Artes (the “Circle of Fine Arts”-i.e. the city's theater/cultural center) particularly caught my attention.

Circulo de Bellas Artes

Standing at eight stories (183 feet) high, it would easily dwarf most LA apartment buildings outside of downtown. And yet, the geometric window/column patterns and graceful upper-story curvature make it attractive rather than imposing. The neo-baroque colonnade and grey color palate cohere nicely with the surrounding low-rise edifices.

The Circulo is a modern skyscraper which pays homage to Madrid’s 18^th-century Baroque architecture and helps foster a unique and appealing sense of place on the Gran Via.

Can LA do the same? Can we develop high-rise apartment complexes that reflect our city's multi-faceted historical and cultural experience (Indigenous, Spanish, Mexican, Chicano, Chinese, etc.)? Can we build structures that stand tall without sticking out from the surrounding ecological and built environments?  Can we develop a vernacular architecture that excites locals and newcomers alike, and which visually cements our city’s reputation as a cool, creative international cultural center?

For architects, answering this question may require an extended intellectual conversation. However, urban planners like myself can give powerful incentives by reforming zoning codes to reduce the Euclidean zoning (i.e. limiting buildings’ height, density, bulk and use) component and increase the form-based (i.e. regulating the aesthetic character) zoning component. Planners should also consider how minimum parking requirements stifle architectural creativity by forcing developers to excessively budget for vehicle storage.

Angelenos, planner, developer and resident alike: I want to hear from you. What are your thoughts? Please comment below😊

Deep Reflections, part I

You try to make everything perfect, despite knowing deep down inside that it can't be, that its not meant to be.

Sometimes its tough to be blunt, to shoot out the cold shit without excuses or hesitation. I like to focus on big questions on this blog. To reflect on myself, my own aspirations or shortcomings (personal or otherwise) seems rather banal. Still, since I have felt very unease about my comportment-my ability to socialize with peers platonically and romantically-and since this week coincides with Yom Kippur (the Jewish Day of Atonement), I feel obliged to just let my thoughts loose.

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Young me 

As a child, I was socialized to devour knowledge To compete in Geography Bees and ace tests in school. I was not a champion at either of these, but the experiences taught me to conceive of life as a struggle to be correct, to give the "right" answer or do the "right" thing. Accomplishment, viewed through this lens, is zero-sum (either "right" or "wrong") and involves a logical assessment of various facts and conditions on the ground. While this thought process works okay for scholarly learning
by questions, it proves less favorable for completing projects or accomplishing daily tasks.

This "rightism" (or desire to always get the right answers) reinforced my existing personality. I am slowly accepting the fact that I am somewhere on the Asperger's Spectrum. I have never been great at understanding body language or non-verbal cues and have always been highly sensitive to noise and stimuli. Both this personality trait and my perfective tendencies have made me mature into an anxious, over-stimulated character, who seeks to conform to/obey rules (formal or otherwise) at the expense of their self-expression and who executes tasks according to repetitive habit until a new reality dawns.

Altogether, my persona is a social elephant: boisterous at times, timid at others, and incredibly clumsy throughout. I'm slow at responding to the changing pace of conversation and often get obsessed over tiny mishaps-causing me to lose track of the topic at hand. I get bored easily, yearning for something better, yet obsessively stick to conversations in which I have lost interest for fear of offending someone.

I know that I cannot connect with or impress people without explaining (and expressing) my unique quirks. Yet some of those very quirks make me afraid to do so. Hence my conundrum: loneliness


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The Lonely City

Los Angeles has often been portrayed in literature as a suburban dystopia rife with alienation, isolation and brooding. While the mass-produced concrete suburbia, alternatively riffed on and praised by Didion and Bantham, may be a gross generalization, the social atomization is not. LA folk only appear at bars and coffee shops with their pair group partner, lingering for a brief hour before decamping to their personal vehicle (or Uber). Having to intrude on a friend group just to meet "new" people frustrates my quest for companionship, being as socially awkward I am.

In the last few years, a new wave of progressive activism has challenged longstanding norms on disability and difference across America. I consider this development a net positive, by and large. And yet with so much of the new activism relying on forms of social media that discriminate in favor of external beauty and charisma, its attempts to improve the lot of people who suffer handicaps in social situations will remain limited.

With this in mind, I intend to conclude my reflections with two calls to action for the year ahead. On a personal level, I hope to become both more comfortable with my quirks and more mindful of how I interact with other people. On a societal level, I hope that progressive advocacy in LA and across America can begin to recognize and accommodate persons with unique ways of interacting with the world: I don't know for sure how this will unfold, though the nascent "kindcore" trend on social media could be a place to start.

The future belongs to the bold- Shana Tova.

Cough Syrup: The song of the decade?

Last night, I listened to Young the Giant's Cough Syrup for the first time in a while. The song elicited feelings of nostalgia (I listened frequently when I was in college) and, at one point, I had an epiphany: this song, written in 2011, foresaw much of the global and (at the, level of society) personal debacle of the decade that was to follow. The song speaks to the combination of political turmoil (precluding any guarantee of social longevity) and widespread addiction to (and fixation on) social media that have infected/bedeviled the American Millenial.

Life's too short for Cough Syrup now, oh oh. 
I'm losing my mind, losing my mind losing control oh oh, oh oh. 

Like the lead singer, we have increasingly lost focus in the past ten years, both in the literal and figurative senses. Our attention spans have diminished, to the length of 150 words or a two-minute video. Our reasoning capacities have shifted away from structured arguments (even if rooted in fallacies or personal biases) to snappy phrases and images that appeal to sensation rather than logic.

If I could find a way to see this straight, I'd run away
To some fortune that I, I should have found by now

I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down, come down

And so I run to the things they said could restore me
Restore life the way it should be
I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down

Bloody Marys under neon-lit Palm Trees. Beachside "vacays" or "staycays" tinted with a retro b-and-white "filter". Escapist fantasies, reified through a polished online presentation, become the "soma" (in Huxleyian terms) of the masses in an age of rising sea-levels and resurgent fascism. Not to mention the fact that many are literally drugged on opium. 

These zombies in the park they're looking for my heart oh oh oh 

A dark world aches for a splash of the sun oh oh

Repeat: resurgent fascism. Data theft. A mass state of conspiracy.

And so I run to the things they said could restore me
Restore life the way it should be
I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down

Repeat: Escapism

One more spoon of cough syrup now whoa
One more spoon of cough syrup now whoa

   

Air Fares to Europe: Why the Low Prices?

I spent much of last month in Europe. Over the course of 19 days (from August 8 to the 26), I schmoozed, sipped and sight-seed my way across Spain, Germany (Berlin) and the United Kingdom.

Although exhausting, my travels were incredibly rewarding both in terms of leisure and learning. Adding to the trip's value was the surprising affordability (given the distance traveled). My round-trip nonstop tickets on Iberia to and from Madrid (the starting and ending point for my travels) only cost me 390-dollars.

That's right. 390 dollars, a price within 100 dollars of the price one typically pays to fly to the East Coast in the same season.

One may think that I encountered an incredibly good stroke of luck (e.g. a last-minute cancellation). But the research I conducted beforehand indicated that my flight was no fluke. When I first researched flights at the beginning of March, round-trip tickets to Barcelona with the same dates were going for only $335 apiece. Multi-city tickets (see Table 2), involving flights into Barcelona at one end, and out of Copenhagen or London at the other end cost only $390 and $459, respectively.

The last time I visited continental Europe, back at the tail-end of the Great Recession, I had to dole out $1,350 for my airfare, with a stop on the way back. What happened?

One of the big break-throughs in transatlantic air travel since my previous visit to Europe has been Norwegian airline's inauguration of low-cost long-haul flights. Using a complex system of contract labor and segmenting responsibilities among various corporate subsidiaries (based in countries with loose regulatory regimes), the airline has cut costs to the point where it can sell non-stop flights from LA to several European cities (Table 1) for as little as $380.

Table 1.Cost of Round-trip Non-stop Flights on Norwegian Airlines from Los Angeles to European Destinations

Interestingly, the three bargain origin-destination pairs I discovered in March (i.e. Barcelona-Barcelona, Barcelona-London and Barcelona-Copenhagen) incorporated cities with non-stop, year-round Norwegian service on both ends (Table 2). By contrast, when I looked at returning from cities which lacked non-stop Norwegian service (maintaining Barcelona as the point of entry) I found the round-trip fares considerably more expensive: returning from Amsterdam or Munich increased the flight cost to nearly $600 or 700$, respectively (Table 2).

Table 2. Comparison of Flight Costs to cities with and without Norwegian Service for the dates August 8-27, 2019

Could it be that Norwegian was driving down fares through its competitive pricing?

To tackle this question in depth, I compared airfares from Los Angeles to several European cities for the dates of April 8-15, 2020 (see Table 3). Four of the cities have Norwegian service and four do not. Cities were selected so that each city with Norwegian service was located in the same general geographic region of Europe as a city without Norwegian service. This would control for the influence of geographic factors on air pricing trends. I limited the analysis to cities that I knew to be major air travel hubs (all of the cities' primary airports rank among the 20 busiest in Europe-and are thus less susceptible to influence by a particular airline cutting or adding service) and that had non-stop service from Los Angeles.

Table 3. Comparison of Flight Costs for Week of April 8 to 15 for Destinations with and without Norwegian Service

Across all four regions, cities with Norwegian service had a lower-priced roundtrip ticket than cities without Norwegian service (with the absolute price difference ranging from $29 to $222).  Indeed, performing a Student's T-Test on the average price difference for the sampled dates, shows that there is only a two percent probability that the average price for cities with Norwegian service is equal to or greater than the average price for cities without Norwegian service (Table 4). At a 95 percent confidence interval (as is standard in statistics), the difference between the average prices is statistically "significant." In other words, there is substantial enough variation for the sampled dates to conclude that the actual mean price for flights to and from cities with Norwegian service is lower than the actual mean price for cities without Norwegian service.

Table 4. Student's T-Test, Norwegian and Non-Norwegian Cities

Wonkiness aside, this finding has important implications for air travel and urban economics. It provides yet further evidence that the entry of low-cost airlines into a market drives down the price of flying into that market for all consumers (regardless of whether they actually fly on the airline). It suggests that the price of a flight has as much to do with competition as with the actual inputs (primarily jet fuel) of travel (flying from LA to Dublin involves slightly less fuel expenditure than flying from LA to London, yet costs more because the market is more constrained). Indeed, flights from Los Angeles to several mid-sized destinations in the eastern US, including Charlotte, NC and Albany, NY, were priced within $100 of the flights to the Norwegian destinations in Europe.

Urban and Regional Economics has recently taken an interest in the divergence between America's "superstar," knowledge-economy cities along the coasts and struggling blue-collar cities in the Rust Belt. Many factors beyond the scope of this paper could account for these disparities, but the pricing of access from the coast to the heartland at levels equal to or higher than access from the coast to Europe certainly impedes the ability of residents in the latter cities to connect with the human capital and resources of the latter. Therefore, these findings raise important questions regarding how air connections impact the development of "city-systems" both nationally and internationally.

September-The end of my writing vacation

As the summer season bids farewell
but temperatures stay high as hell
The poolside party turns mundane
Siestas like the south of Spain

Why slumber when you're young and free
And all that's yonder you can see.
With fresh eyes and ears,
Challenging and awakening,
Ideas gesticulating
Dogmas vanquishing

My thoughts,
a multitude of stories
and commentaries
each provocative
and eloquent
(in some way)
Will disappear
unless I record them
on paper

So I, enthusiastically,
write articles and poetry
for all the world to see
to listen and learn and grow
with me

Nationalize (private) higher education

Last week's college admissions scandal, in which a number of rich and famous persons were convicted of paying bribes for test scores and athletic recommendations, came as little surprise to informed commentators. For years, elite private universities have privileged the progeny of the 1 percent in admissions through so-called "legacy preferences" which give an assist to the children of alumni as an incentive for alumni donations. Such favoritism not only rewards a demographic that is much wealthier and whiter than the general college-aged population but encourages "pay-to-play" contributions, in which generous donations by alumni billionaires are rewarded in kind by a child's admission.

In the words of education scholar Richard Kahlenberg, legacy preferences are nothing more than "affirmative action for the rich." As a policy that rewards money over (even the pretense of) merit, legacy preferences are grossly unfair and unjust.

And yet, despite coming under attack from voices across the political spectrum, colleges have made clear that legacy preferences are unlikely to go away anytime soon. The reason is simple: many private colleges (with the exception of scientific research institutions, like MIT and Caltech) rely on alumni donations for long-term financial stability.

As long as private universities remain private, untethered from permanent public support (or accountability), they'll have every incentive to indulge in a form of admissions apartheid, that they perceive to fulfill their bottom line.

Therefore, ending legacy preferences, and other preferences for the wealthy elite in university admissions may ultimately may require a more far-reaching policy: nationalization of private universities by the federal government.

Under government control, universities would gain a reliable funding source that would obviate universities' donations-driven groveling at the whimsy of wealthy alumni. As public institutions, the universities would likely receive greater scrutiny for employing policies that reward an inheritance (linked with privilege) over merit or need.

Nationalizing private universities would also make it easier for the federal government to implement the tuition-free higher education policies that have become the darling of Democratic presidential candidates. Acquiring control over some of the wealthiest non-profit endowments on the planet could provide a steady funding stream to offset a reduction in tuition revenue. Furthermore, both the government and universities would not need to bear the (monetary and transaction) costs of hiring "middlemen" to administer a government-funded tuition program.

I propose a takeover of private universities by the federal government, rather than the states (which currently manage public higher education), because only the former could achieve such a feat in a one-off event. A state-by-state process would require the buy-in of 27 Republican governors, loath to undertake any policy that smacks of socialism. Moreover, a federal takeover would produce the first national public university system in the country's history, eliminating current geographic disparities in students' access to higher education. While some state colleges (e.g. the UC and UofM systems) have a status comparable to the Ivy League, many fall far below the elite universities in terms of educational quality and research opportunities. Since most state colleges only offer reduced tuition to students from within the state, access to affordable, quality education is currently a lottery based on one's residence. A national university system, with subsidized or free tuition, would do away with this arbitrary stratification.

Finally, and less tangibly, nationalized higher education would diminish any prestige dividends perceived from private college attendance. Wealthier parents in the know could have less incentive to use their money and networks to finagle their kids' entry into "Ivy League" or "Ivy Plus" schools,

Just as the United States is an outlier (among the industrial economies) when it comes to the cost of higher education, its an outlier in terms of its extensive private education structure (even foreign universities as prestigious as Oxford are public). Progress on the latter front can lead to progress on the former, while reducing class and race-based segregation.