Discussion about this post

User's avatar
dysphemistic treadmill's avatar

"...a catastrophe of low ceilings, bad lighting, weird passages, and giant rats."

You keep complaining about high unit costs. But with giant rats, you get a lot more rat, per rat, and at the same cost. The cost is actually going down, pro rata. And yet you're still complaining!

Expand full comment
Lasagna's avatar

Matt, man, I love you, but I've read all of your articles on city planning and YIMBYism and high-density cities and suburbs and I don't think I've ever been less convinced by a vision. Your ideal city seems to be ugly, overcrowded, has no sense of history, and is populated by hapless and powerless citizens with little to no input into the form and function of their own neighborhoods. It’s kind of nightmarish.

I lived in NYC for 20 years. I got married, moved to Long Island and am raising a family. I commute into the city for work (or did before the pandemic, and will again soon). I'm one of the people greatly impacted by your schemes. In all these months, I haven't read much specific from you that I would want. I mean, you point out that because of tech limitations and a nightmare of hostile agencies looking to protect their fiefdoms, you can't take a train from New Jersey to Long Island, and we should focus on that. But you never address WHY someone would want to take a train from New Jersey to Long Island. It's not a thing that people do. Not a huge deal, but it sets off alarms.

Penn Station in its current incarnation is a dumpster fire (I haven't seen much of the Moynihan reno yet, though I saw the work every day pre-pandemic). For those of us trying to navigate it twice a day it is a depressing, broken, somewhat dangerous shithole. The argument that "yes, they shouldn't have destroyed the old, beautiful Penn Station, but they did, so now you're just going to have to live with this awfulness until you retire" just doesn't resonate. Even the Soviet Union managed to build beautiful public spaces.

It will be nice - more than nice, great - to climb out of Penn Station and not instantly hate everything. Being in an uplifting building for a bit each day would be lovely. It matters. I worked for many years near Grand Central Station, and the difference between climbing out of a nasty subway into beautiful Grand Central Station and climbing out of a nasty train into a nastier Penn Station is tremendous.

What I’m saying is that your plans rarely offer much that might make life nicer for those of us actually stuck doing these things. They always seem to be things that theoretical people might want in the aggregate and rarely what those of us actually living and acting in the spaces you want to commandeer are interested in. You need to ask the people impacted and involved what they want and need, and then do that - not what you think we want and need (please don’t ever write again that people actually want to live in high density neighborhoods even when we say we don’t. Just trust us, Matt.)

This is too long already, so I’ll close with a Penn Station anecdote that I think really captures the magic of a daily commute through the station. This happened to me a year or two before the pandemic, in one of those awful New York Augusts.

I was neck deep in the usual morning Penn Station scrum. Penn Station isn’t anywhere near large enough to accommodate the number of daily commuters, so when you get off the train during rush hour you’re packed in like a factory-farmed chicken, shuffling forward a few inches at a time, usually in no particular direction. There aren’t really lines; just a mass of sweaty people pushing towards the tiny, inadequate handful of escalators that get you outside. It’s terrible; it takes forever to move fifty feet; you’re constantly accidentally being touched and breathed on by people in a way that I don’t think will be tolerated anymore after the last 18 months.

I made it to the escalator. The escalators are also packed. Someone is standing on almost every riser, so you’re inches away from the person in front and in back of you. It’s difficult to balance and not smack into people, so you have to be careful with your bags. In front of me is a woman I’d noticed even before we got on the escalator. Mid-forties, fit, confident with an optimistic look on her face, dressed in a lovely dark red suit that hung perfectly and somehow wasn’t the wrinkled wreck that the rest of us were wearing. It occurred to me how rare it was that I actually saw someone during my commute that didn’t look angry and defeated. She was the opposite - whatever she was doing in the city, wherever she was going, she was upbeat and going to do great, and people were going to be happy with the results. While I was mulling this over – a rare bright spot of positivity during my morning commute – this lovely woman farted in my mouth. Like, I could taste it.

Yeah, let the old Penn Station burn and then salt the earth.

Expand full comment
257 more comments...

No posts