North America

Talking Trade With Trudeau and Trump

NAFTA stands for the North American Free Trade Act, but President Trump does not. After campaigning on a promise to repeal the Act, then adapting his position to that of merely supporting the Act’s renegotiation, Trump recently announced that he would no longer tolerate the status quo arrangement for American imports of dairy and forestry products originating from Canada.

Proposing, on April 24, to add a 24-percent tariff on US imports of Canadian softwood lumber, Trump kept up the pressure on Canada the following day, tweeting “Canada has made business for our dairy farmers in Wisconsin and other border states very difficult. We will not stand for this. Watch!”.

Watch! indeed: the value of the Loonie fell sharply the week of the tweet, as investors worried how Canada will fare when it comes to the broader renegotiation of NAFTA Trump continues to promise.

Trump’s targeting of Canada in this way is not likely to have been random. Nor was it entirely economic in its intention. Rather, Trump brought up the issue in order to prove his anti-NAFTA bona fides to his political base, yet in a way that manages to avoid the hairier subjects associated with NAFTA’s other signatory, Mexico, such as immigration, racism, or The Wall.

Trump has admittedly been careful to direct attention to goods of lesser importance, like dairy products and softwood lumber, rather than to Canada’s key exports of oil (from Alberta) and auto parts (from Ontario). Still, he has been far tougher on Canada—at least in his rhetoric—than has any other recent president. To use a Trumpian phrase: Canada has now been put on notice.

Obviously, this may worry Canada’s Prime Minister, Justin Trudeau. Elected with a rare majority government in 2015, Trudeau’s “political honeymoon” now finally seems to be nearing its end. The NAFTA/Trump issue was just one of four indications of this to occur this spring. The other indications were the election of a new federal opposition leader, Conservative Andrew Scheer, on May 28; the expectation of an NDP-Green minority government forming following an election in British Columbia in May; and the continuing decline in oil prices that has occured thus far in 2017.

Of these, the price of oil is likely the most troubling sign for the Canadian economy, and by extension for the approval ratings of Trudeau. West Texas Intermediate crude oil prices crashed in mid-2015, hitting lows of 26 dollars a barrel in February 2016 but staying mostly within a range of 40-55 dollars since then. They began 2017 at 54 dollars, and remained there until mid-April. However in recent weeks they have fallen again, so that as of this writing (June 21) they are at just 43 dollars a barrel. The Western Canadian Select oil price, which is the price that Canadian oil tends to sell at, is barely over 30 dollars. This does not bode well for the Canadian economy.

The biggest political news in Canada, meanwhile, has been the victory of the new Conservative leader, Andrew Scheer. Scheer narrowly (and quite unexpectedly) defeated Quebec MP Maxime Bernier at the Conservative Party convention, and so will now replace the party’s interim leader Rosa Ambrose as Canada’s leader of the opposition.

The impact of Scheer’s victory is likely to be twofold. First, Trudeau now finally has to face a real political opponent in parliament, rather than a mere interim leader as he has faced until now. This may draw some media attention away from political narratives created by Trudeau, instead giving his Conservative opponents some more air time. Indeed, Trudeau may now no longer be the only golden boy in Ottawa. Scheer is just 38, seven years younger than Trudeau.

The second impact of Scheer’s victory is that, unlike Trudeau, Scheer is not from Quebec. Bernier, who had been expected to beat Scheer, would have been the first Conservative leader from Quebec since Brian Mulroney, who was Prime Minister from 1984 (the year Trudeau’s father left office) until 1993.

In every election since then, the Conservatives have trailed behind the Liberals, NDP, and Bloc Quebecois in Quebec. This is not a trivial fact: Quebec is home to 23 percent of Canada’s population, and tends to vote for home-grown politicians. Given that Quebec has tended to be anti-Conservative, and western Canada pro-Conservative, Scheer’s victory over Bernier could mean that the next national election in Canada will be decided in Ontario. This fact could influence Trudeau and the Liberals during NAFTA negotiations, given that Ontario depends far more on trade with the United States than do any of the other Canadian provinces (apart from New Brunswick).

The month of May also saw a shakeup in Canadian politics at the provincial level. In British Columbia, the third largest of Canada’s ten provinces, the incumbent Liberal government failed by just one seat to hold on to a majority government. The NDP and Green parties have now announced that they plan to form a minority government in BC instead. This announcement has already had consequences for Trudeau, as the new provincial government is not expected to support the planned expansion of Kinder Morgan’s Trans Mountain pipeline from Alberta to BC’s coast.

Indeed the BC election, which was held on May 9, just a few weeks before Kinder Morgan held what it had expected to be the fourth largest IPO in Toronto Stock Exchange history, caused Kinder Morgan’s stock to plunge. If Alberta cannot export its fossil fuels to world markets via BC, then it will probably remain more dependent on sending them to refineries in the United States. Obviously this would be likely to reduce Canada’s leverage in any trade negotiations with the US.

If and when these negotiations do occur, it is difficult to know what the details of any new NAFTA agreement will be. Canada is obviously at a disadvantage relative to the US when it comes to trade negotiations. Not only is the Canadian economy much smaller than that of the US, and more dependent on trade with the US than the US is dependent on trade with Canada, but Canadian politics are also—contrary to popular wisdom—more internally divided than those of the US.

To give only one relevant example of this, there is the division between Canada’s provinces in to the extent to which they depend on US trade. The value of Ontario’s trade with the US is equal to an estimated 49 percent of Ontario’s GDP. In contrast, in Canada’s other major provinces — Quebec, BC, and Alberta — trade with the US accounts for just 23, 16, and 31 percent of GDP.

With these figures varying so widely, it could be difficult for Trudeau to present a unified front during negotiations. On the other hand, the political interests of the US are global in scope, so the US cannot afford to spend as much of its political capital haggling with Canada as Canada can afford to devote to haggling with the US. Thus it is always difficult to know which country holds the more leverage in the Canadian-American relationship.

What is obvious, though, is the importance of the relationship. Canada may appear small when compared to its southern neighbour, but it is the tenth largest economy in the world, and has growth prospects that out-rival most other wealthy economies. The US and Canada have the second largest trading relationship in the world, trailing only (for now) trade between the US and China.

Now that they are both finally settled into office, it will be fascinating to watch how these two countries’ utterly different leaders, Trudeau and Trump, will steward and steer this relationship going forward.

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North America

Robots and NHL Expansion

Winnipeg and Las Vegas, the two newest NHL franchises since Minnesota and Columbus joined the league in 2000, have one thing in common: nobody lives near them. Apart from much larger, regional capitals, like New York City or Phoenix, both Winnipeg and Las Vegas account for a far bigger share of their state or province’s total population than do any of the other cities with NHL teams.

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In other words, both Winnipeg and Las Vegas are located pretty much in the middle of nowhere.

In spite of this, Winnipeg and Vegas represent opposing strategies to adding new teams to the NHL. Returning a team to Winnipeg was an example of what we will call a short-distance strategy. It was (to state the obvious) intended to capitalize on hockey fans, a.k.a. Canadians, who live in Winnipeg. As Winnipeg had been the largest Canadian city without a team, and Manitoba the largest province without a team, bringing the Jets back was an obvious decision for the NHL to make.

The league does not, however, expect many people at Jets games to have come from afar. Even outside of Winnipeg’s metro area, most Manitobans live not far from the city. Winnipeg’s neighbours, moreover, are distant andd sparsely populated. Saskatchewan has just 1.1 million people; its largest city, Saskatoon, is 710 km away from Winnipeg. Calgary and Edmonton are 1200 km from Winnipeg. Fargo is 330 km to Winnipeg’s south, Minneapolis 615 km. And almost nobody lives in northwestern Ontario. Toronto and Ottawa are more than 1700 km away. Manitoba cannot rely much on its neighbours to buy hockey tickets.

Las Vegas is following the opposite strategy: a long-distance strategy. It hopes to attract fans (aka gamblers, tourists) from hundreds or thousands of kilometres away: from Canada, the rest of the United States, and even overseas.

Even the Vegas locals, who the NHL hopes to convert into hockey fans, are dependent on long-distance tourism. Without tourism, Las Vegas’ economy would dry up and force many of the locals to leave (or at least, to spend less money on hockey tickets). This the Las Vegas Golden Knights would not be able to afford. Once the Oakland Raiders move to Las Vegas in 2019, Nevada will have the smallest population per each of its major sports franchises of any state or province—with only one exception: Manitoba.

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Pittsburgh and Nashville  

This year’s Stanley Cup contenders, Pittsburgh and Nashville, are very different than Winnipeg and Vegas. For one thing, neither are the largest cities in their states. The Greater Nashville metro area is home to only an estimated 27 percent of the population of Tennessee; Pittsburgh’s metro area is home to just 13 percent of Pennsylvania’s population. Pittsburgh was fifth from the bottom on both of the blue graphs above.

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The Nashville Predators, and its nearest fellow teams in every direction—plus the Thrashers, which left Atlanta to become the Jets in 2011. 

For Nashville, not only are the Predators the only team in Tennessee, they are also surrounded by five states with no NHL teams: Georgia, Mississippi, Arkansas, Alabama, and Kentucky. Tens of millions of people live within a few hundred km of Nashville, and none of them have their own teams.

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Pittsburgh too is in a region with a large population yet relatively few hockey teams—albeit not nearly to the same extent as Nashville. This region includes Ohio, which has no team north of Columbus, and the Virginias, which have no teams at all. Most importantly, it includes part of southwestern Ontario. Pittsburgh is located closer to the Canadian border than any other American team apart from Buffalo or Detroit.

Pennsylvania is also one of just two states that has exactly two NHL teams. (The other, Florida, relies on tourists and snowbirds, like Las Vegas will). This is a useful arrangement, creating an intrastate rivlary in which western Pennsylvania can cheer for the Penguins and the east for the Flyers.

Golden Knights or Goldilocks? 

Pittsburgh and Nashville are both examples of a medium-distance strategy for NHL expansion. Whereas Vegas will rely on fans jetting in from thousands of km away, and Winnipeg relies on Manitobans keeping the seats full, the Predators and Penguins can both — in theory, at least — attract fans or ticket-buyers who live within tens or hundreds of km of their arenas.

The question is however: which strategy is best?

The reason I bring this up is, as the title of this article indicated, robots. If Sillicon Valley is right, and technologies like autonomous cars really are coming just around the corner, might this make a medium-distance strategy wiser? Would it make the recent expansions to Winnipeg or Las Vegas ill-advised? After all, an autonomous vehicle could make driving tens or even hundreds of km to come home from a game—at night, in the winter, on a rural highway, after having drunk a beer or two earlier—safe and easy. This might increase dramatically the distance that fans are prepared to travel to go to a game.

A medium-distance strategy for future NHL expansion should, in general, prioritize cities that are in Canada or near the Canadian border. Such a team would allow Canadian hockey fans could come to games without having to travel too far a distance. Such cities might include Quebec City, Hamilton, Cleveland, Seattle, Milwaukee, or perhaps even Halifax, Saskatoon, London (in Ontario), Portland, or Toledo.

Most of these cities could not support a team without some new major advance in transportation technology, such as autonomous cars: the number of hockey fans who live in them is simply too small. Some may not be able to support a team even with robot cars. Halifax, for example, has a mere 400,000 inhabitants. It would need to draw in many fans from other Maritime cities to become viable.

While Quebec City and Hamilton are arguably the most sensible additions the NHL could make if following a medium-distance strategy, Seattle is I think the most intriguing one. Seattle is of course a sizeable city in its own right; it accounts for 50 percent (by metro area) and 9 percent (by municipality) of Washington’ population—middle-of-the-pack figures for cities that have NHL teams. Yet Washington as a state has only two major sports franchises (the Seattle Seahawaks and Seattle Mariners) for 7.2 million people. Along with neighbouring Oregon, Idaho, and British Columbia, the Pacific Northwest has only four teams (Seahawks, Mariners, Trailblaizers, and Canucks) for 17.5 million people. It used to have six, but the Supersonics and Grizzlies moved away.

quebec expansion

One reason the Pacific Northwest has so few sports teams per capita is its mountainous terrain. The mountains make land expensive, raising the cost of an arena. They also make driving tricky and limit the number of highways available, creating traffic. This makes it difficult for fans from other cities to drive to and from Seattle, Portland, or Vancouver to take in a game. For a Seattle NHL team this would be an especially important challenge, as the team would want hockey fans to visit from Canada. It is 236 km from Vancouver to Seattle, and 278 from Portland to Seattle. It is just 115 km from Victoria, BC’s capital city (with a population of 368,000), but only as the crow flies.

Pacific Northwest .png

Autonomous cars could, perhaps, help the Pacific Northwest overcome these challenges. They might do so by allowing an arena to be built further from Seattle’s expensive downtown core, or by allowing an arena to have much smaller parking lots (and therefore to occupy less expensive real estate) or by making it easier to drive hundreds of km through the region’s rugged and rainy terrain.

On the other hand…

Of course, it is easy for me to just say “autonomous cars” and then try to make up a cool-sounding argument around it. But that does not mean in any way that my argument is a good one.

In this case, it may instead be that a short-distance or long-distance approach, of the Winnipeg or Las Vegas variety, really will be better than a medium-distance one. This is something that the league should, I think, try to determine for itself.

If a short-distance strategy is determined to be best, then the obvious choice for expansion would be to put a second team in Toronto. Even with two teams, the municipality of Toronto would have approximately 1.4 inhabitants per NHL team and 700,000 inhabitants per “Big 4” sports franchise. In contrast, the municipalities of of Hamilton and Quebec City are home to only around 500,000 people each.

The Greater Toronto Area (not even including nearby Hamilton or Kitchener-Waterloo) would have 3.2 million people per NHL team and 1.6 million per Big 4 team were it to add a second NHL franchise. The Greater Montreal Area would have just 2 million people per team were it to do so.

A long-distance strategy, on the other hand, might focus on cities in the south, where hockey-loving snowbirds could flock. This could mean a first NHL team in one of the southern states without any, or a second team in Texas, or a third attempt at a team in Atlanta, or maybe even a fourth team in California.

Indeed, the most recent round of NHL expansion in southern cities was during the 1990s, when, perhaps not incidentally, the cost of travel was cheap and the Canadian dollar was weak, as oil prices were at an all-time low. San Jose, Anaheim, Miami, Tampa Bay, and Dallas all got teams during 1991-1993 (Ottawa also got a team in 1992), while Phoenix, Denver, Raleigh, Nashville, and Atlanta got teams during 1995-1999.

In contrast, the three since then have been northern: Columbus and Minneapolis in 2000, then Winnipeg in 2011. A long-distance approach, however, might be less friendly towards northern cities—particularly far-northern cities, such as Winnipeg, Quebec City, or Saskatoon. It might worry that too many Canadians will flee the cold and dark of winter to seek the bright sun of the south.

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North America

It’s Finally Time For A Toronto Ziggurat

It’s true that pyramids have fallen out fashion in recent millennia. All of the pyramids that have been constructed  in modern times are shorter than the Great Pyramid of Giza, which was built four and a half thousand years ago.

The two largest of these are the Memphis Pyramid (Memphis, Tennessee, that is), where the Grizzlies NBA team played from 2001-2004, but which has since been turned into a giant Bass Pro Sports Shop; and Las Vegas’ Luxor Hotel and Casino, the most vice-ridden pyramid this side of Pyongyang.

At 98 and 107 metres, the tips of these two American pyramids are both taller than the roof of Toronto’s Skydome (which, for purposes of comparison, is 86 metres tall). But both are still much shorter than Giza’s, which is 139 metres.

The next tallest modern pyramid, which finished construction in 2000 in Khazakstan’s built-from-scratch capital city Astana, is 77  metres tall. Other notable modern pyramids include California’s Walter Pyramid, a 5,000-seat sports arena on the campus of Long Beach State University that is 58 metres tall; the Pyramid of Kazan, the largest recreation facility in Russia at 30 metres tall; and museums like the Nima Sand Museum in Japan or the Louvre Pyramid.

Pyramid Schemes 

Pyramids have three significant advantages over other buildings–but also a key flaw, which has outweighed these advantages.

The advantages of pyramids are that they are durable, climbable , and do not obstruct city skylines to the same extent that a rectangular or dome-shaped building of equivalent height would.

In spite of these advantages, pyramids have a flaw, which has relegated them to serving mainly as a home for the spookily intact remnants of once-great kings (like Tutankhamen, or Vince Carter). Their flaw is simple: most of their indoor space lacks good window access. Windows are sort of a deal-breaker for modern humans. This is why you do not see many pyramid-shaped residential condos, but instead only entertainment facilities or Bass Pro Shops.

You don’t need to be a brain surgeon to know that one thing pyramids and ziggurats could be good at is storing things. A ziggurat could be ideal for this:  it could serve simultaneously as a storage facility (on the inside) and a public gardens (on the outside).

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Hanging Gardens of Babylon (fictional rendering)

This assumes, however, that cities are actually in need of  large new storage facilities. For post-industrial cities like Toronto, this may not be the case. If  Toronto were to build a large ziggurat, what would be stored inside of it?


Robots!

This is where the introduction of autonomous cars could, maybe, make things interesting.

Though we don’t know what the future of rush hour traffic jams or weekend traffic lulls will be, it is plausible that in the future there will at times be an excess capacity of cars in Toronto, numbering in the tens or even hundreds of thousands. Since autonomous cars will be able to drive themselves, this raises the question of where the best place for them to go at such times would be.

One possibility is to keep doing what we do now: leave cars parked all over the place. It is probable, I think, that this is what we will do — and that’s okay. Yet it is also likely that we will seek to do this less and less often, given that any space occupied by parked cars could be better used as a green space, commercial space, residential space, extra lane for driving, etc.  Leaving autonomous cars parked all over the city would not seem to be sensible or necessary.

Another option is to build more underground parking lots. Today less than one percent of the city’s parked cars are in underground lots; it would seem only natural that this number will increase as a result of autonomous cars. Such cars would not mind squeezing themselves down narrowly winding ramps to reach cramped parking spots in the bowels of the earth.

Still, building underground lots is not cheap. As you dig further and further down, construction prices tend to rise sharply, as a result of the need to keep out groundwater, prevent surrounding buildings from being destabilized, and lift earth high and higher to get it out of the hole you’ve dug.

But What About That Ziggurat? 

Thus, we are left with the alternative of having excess autonomous cars drive themselves into vertical parking lots. In some cases, having these buildings be ziggurats could work best, given that they are durable, do not block skylines much, and can double as a Hanging Gardens.

The best place to put a ziggurat in Toronto could be the Exhibition. The Exhibition has enough room for a large building, and would make the ziggurat a part of the Toronto skyline. From the Exhibition Ziggurat’s Hanging Gardens, there would be a clear view of the lake, the revitalized Ontario Place island, and CFL or MLS games being played at BMO field. (Also, concerts being played at Molson Amphitheatre would be audible). It would be accessible by car (as it would itself be a gigantic parking lot) as well as by GO Train from Union.

Escalatortonowhere

Indeed, instead of a crazy escalator to nowhere, Toronto could use the ziggurat to have a highway to nowhere: having the Gardiner Expressway end closer to Exhibition rather than extending all the way to the DVP.

As a massive parking lot for shareable autonomous cars, the Exhibition Ziggurat could help make the removal of the downtown Gardiner a workable possibility, by allowing commuters to drop off their cars at Exhibition Station in order to transfer to the train or bus. Similarly, at times when Union Station is overcrowded, the Ziggurat could help allow commuters to get off the train at Exhibition Station in order to switch to an autonomous car.

 

toronto ziggurat exhibition

Given that there are several marinas next to the Exhibition, it could perhaps become possible even that cars could go to and from the ziggurat by being carried by autonomous boats on Lake Ontario. This way, cars could at certain times be picked up or dropped off at various points along the city’s waterfront, using the lake to avoid downtown traffic. In theory at least, excess cars could even be delivered to St Catharines via boat, using the lake as a shortcut to reduce the distance between Toronto and Niagara from 130 km (via the QEW) to just 50 km.

If you want to get even crazier, you could do as the Egyptians did and built not one pyramid, but several. You could turn Downsview Park into a post-modern Necropolis, full of  hanging gardens and autonomous car parking spaces, with easy access to the 401, the Allen, and Sheppard.

If Egypt is any indication, such an investment could at least pay off in the the very, very long run.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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North America

On Politics and the Weather…and Bike Lanes, in Toronto

I tend to agree with those who say that the ideal city would have both right-of-way transit lines and separated bike lanes on every major street. But I also recognize that this is not politically viable. Too many suburban voters are against it. Urbanites have enough clout to get bike lanes or transit, but not necessarily both.

For this reason, I think it would be best to advocate for transit only, leaving the issue of bike lanes to the side until the transit fight is won. Bike lanes are great too of course, but not nearly as useful as transit can be.

However, I also recognize that even this is not politically viable. There are too many bike enthusiasts who will not delay their push for better bike lanes. For these bike enthusiasts and transit advocates to present a unified front in their negotiations with suburbanites, they must first reach a compromise among themselves.

The compromise could be this: a hybrid transit/bike lane, which changes functions depending on the weather.

It would work something like as follows. On days when the weather is expected to stay within a range of, say, 0-30 degrees celcius, and not rain too much, cyclists will get to have a separated bike lane that is so wide that it will actually have two bike lanes within it: a passing lane and a slower lane. On these days, Toronto would become ideally the most bike-friendly city in North America.

However on days when the weather is expected to be too cold, hot, or rainy, bicylists will not be allowed to bike on major roads at all. Instead, the bike lanes would be used as a right-of-way bus lane.

Of course, there would be winners and losers in this plan, as in any political solution. The losers would be ultraenthusiastic cyclists, the people who love to brag about how they bike to work even in January.

The winners would be everybody else.

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North America

Because 12 is a Magic Number (On Numerology and Public Transit)

The number 12 has played a key role in human culture, showing up in places as diverse as the hours of the day, the tribes of Israel, the disciples of Christ, the jury of your peers, the major gods of Olympus, the inches in a foot, the Chinese Zodiac, the Latin Zodiac, or the egg-carton.

One reason for this is that 12 is divisible in three different ways: by 12 and 1, by 6 and 2, and by 4 and 3. Not until 18 (another significant number, in both Hinduism and Judaism) is a number again divisible in three ways. This is also the root of 13’s bad luck: it’s a prime number, divisible only by itself and one. 13 throws off 12’s groove.

Numerology and Public Transit? 

As in the case of the clock, calendar, and egg-carton, 12’s divisibility could perhaps be put to practical use in public transit.

Imagine for a moment that a road were to have three different bus lanes in each direction. In one of the directions, busses on one of the lanes would make stops every 200 metres, on another lane every 400 metres, and on the third lane every 1200 metres.  In the other direction, busses on one lane would make stops every 300 metres, on the second lane every 600 metres, and on the third lane every 2400.

The result of this would be that busses on all six bus lanes would arrive at the same place every 2400 metres. In addition, busses on the 200 metre and 400 metre lanes would arrive at the same place every 400 metres, and busses on the 200,300, and 600 metre lanes would all arrive at the same place every 600 metres. Five of the six lanes — the 200, 300, 400, 600, and 1200 — would all arrive at the same place every 1200 metres. Lots of opportunities for passengers to transfer easily from one lane to another might therefore be created by such a transit system.  Ideally, this would make the system both efficient and useful.

Of course, you’ve probably already spotted the problem with this plan: roads aren’t wide enough for six transit lanes!

In order to have a transit-by-the-dozen plan like this, you would need either narrower vehicles or wider roads.

In the case of wider roads, the solution is obvious: use highways. The challenge then, however, would be how to get the passengers to and from those highways. This may not be viable today — or at least, not politically viable — but it could perhaps become so with the advent of autonomous or semi-autonomous cars.  Autonomous vehicles could take passengers to and from transit stops located in or adjacent to the highways.

The same might be said of narrower vehicles. Narrow, one-seater autonomous or semi-autonomous cars might allow main streets to create six narrow lanes — three in each direction — to be used for a transit system. Not only would the vehicles themselves be narrow, but they may also require less space between lanes.

But, if anywhere, it is probably on highways, not ordinary roads, where such a plan might actually have potential. Highways are so wide that, rather than have six transit lanes in total, it could be possible to have twelve: a 200, 300, 400, 600, 1200, and 2400 in each direction.  You could  even name the lanes after the Zodiac.  You could then give a tourist directions like “take the Taurus for three stops, then swich to the Gemini.”

Alternatively, you could use only one lane in each direction, but still have different busses using the lanes stop 200,300, 400, 600, 1200, or 2400 metres apart. This would make the system possible on normal roads, with normal sized vehicles, rather than only on wide highways or with narrow autonomous cars.

This is all enormously speculative of course. I don’t expect to see it happen, and am not sure it would even be desirable.

I guess we’ll have to consult an astrologer to find out.

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Geopolitics in Canada: Politics, Economics, and Future Technologies

Canada is often considered to be a haven from geopolitics, a country relatively free from economic want or political cant. But if by geopolitics we refer simply to the influence of geography upon politics, Canada may in fact be a prime place to study it, if only because the country posseses so much of the former when in comparison to the latter.

The basic fact of Canadian geopolitics is this: more Canadians live in the city of Toronto than live in the 2500 kilometer-wide expanse of land separating Toronto from Alberta. (Or, to put it in the most Canadian way possible, there are a heckuva lot more people who would like to see Auston Matthews win the Calder Trophy than Patrick Laine). Canada is in this way divided in two: between Alberta and BC on the one hand, in which around 25 percent of Canadians live and 30 percent of Canada’s GDP is generated, and Ontario and Quebec on the other, which account for roughly 60 percent of Canada’s population and GDP.

Source: Future Economics

These two halves, in turn, can also be divided into two parts. Alberta is separated from BC by the Rockies; Ontario from Quebec by the Anglo-French divide. (The debate is still open as to which of these two barriers is the more venerable). However, while the BC-Alberta split is pretty well balanced — Alberta’s GDP is a bit larger than BC’s, but BC’s population is a bit larger than Alberta’s — the Ontario-Quebec divide is tilted strongly in support of Ontario. By itself, Ontario accounts for an estimated 38.6 percent of Canada’s population and 38.4 percent of Canada’s GDP.

These are large figures not just in Canadian terms, but also in global ones. Few provinces or states within major countries represent such a bulk of their respective nations. Ontario’s provincial government has a budget that in recent years was larger than those of Quebec and Alberta combined, and also close to half that of Canada’s federal government (the capital of which, Ottawa, happens to be located in Ontario). The Ontario provincial budget is higher than those of any states in the US apart from California or New York. It is higher than the budgets of 15 EU nations.

Among other things, this makes the provincial election of Ontario that is scheduled to occur by 2018 a matter of some significance. According to current polls (yes, I know, polling cannot be trusted…), the Ontario Liberals likely will be thrown out of office for the first time since 2003, to be replaced with the Progressive Conservative party. This would be noteworthy given that, at present, only Manitoba is led by a Conservative government. The rest are governed by Liberal parties with majorities in provincial parliaments, or else by the New Democratic Party (in Alberta) or Saskatchewan Party (in Sasketchewan, of course), both of which enjoy majority governments too.

In Canada, due to the country’s vast size and diffuse population, provinces possess a high measure of capital and clout. The combined budgets of the ten provincial governments, for example, is larger than the federal budget. (In the US, by comparison, the 50 state budgets amount to less than half the US federal budget. And in Britain, the central government is far more prominent still). So, if provincial Liberals lose upcoming elections in provinces of considerable size—Quebec may have an election in 2018 too, and BC will likely have one this year— it might unsettle provincial relations with Justin Trudeau’s federal Liberal majority; a federal majority likely to remain until at least 2020.

It is not however only Ontario’s size which tends to make it the fulcrum in Canadian politics. Ontario is also centrally positioned, both economically and politically, within the country. Economically, the four provinces west of Ontario have around one-third of Canada’s GDP, while the five provinces east of Ontario have around one-quarter of Canada’s GDP. The median line of longitude of the Canadian economy — the place where the GDP to the east equals the GDP to the west; the Prime Median, as it were — runs directly through the city of Toronto, Ontario’s capital.

Ontario trades nearly seven times more with Quebec than does any other province, and trades three times more with Alberta than does Quebec. Ontario also trades more with Canada’s four Atlantic Maritime provinces than Quebec does. Politically, moreover, Ontario shares a long border with French-speaking Quebec — a border Ottawa abuts and Montreal is just 60 km from — yet shares a language with most of the rest of Canada.

We’ve left out any mention of Canada’s three Territories, Yukon, the Northwest, and Nunavut, for the sake of simplicity. Combined, they have a population of 113,000; smaller than the smallest province, PEI, and just 0.32 percent of the overall Canadian population. (By comparison, Alaska accounts for 0.23 percent of the population of the United States)

This is where we get to the real bacon of Canadian geopolitics: the somewhat uncanny reflection of geographical realities within Canada’s electoral outcomes; specifically, in the ability of Ontario to “swing” between either Quebec or western Canada during federal elections, or else for Ontarians to vote for a party supported in neither Quebec nor in western Canada and yet still manage to have that party win (or at least, manage to avoid having any rival party acheive a majority government).

The four most recent elections, which saw Trudeau emerge with a majority government in 2015, Stephen Harper win his first-ever majority in 2011, and Harper gain only minority governments in 2008 and 2006, are ideal examples of this:

The three major candidates in the 2015 election, Justin Trudeau, Stephen Harper, and Thomas Mulcair

In 2011, Harper’s Conservatives won a majority by uniting Ontario and western Canada — including receiving 27 out of 28 seats in Alberta — even as they won only 5 out of 75 seats in Quebec. In that election Ontario and every province west of Ontario gave a large majority of their seats to Harper’s Conservatives, while, with the exception of New Brunswick (the westernmost Atlantic province), none of the provinces east of Ontario came even close to giving a majority to the Conservatives.

Quebec, in contrast, gave 59 seats to the NDP, allowing that party to become one of the two largest in Parliament for the first time in its history. 2011 was a good example of Ontario swinging to the west. (Harper, not incidentally, was born in Toronto, attended university in Edmonton, and represented a Calgary riding in Parliament).

In 2015, on the other hand, Trudeau’s Liberals won an even larger federal majority by winning most of the seats in both Ontario and Quebec, even as they were crushed in both Saskatchewan and Alberta. The Liberals won a large majority of seats in Ontario and in every province east of Ontario—except Quebec, where they won only a narrow majority—and also won exactly half the seats in Manitoba, the easternmost Prairie province. But the Liberals did not come even close to winning a majority in any other province west of Ontario.

The large victory of Trudeau (who, by the way, was born in Ottawa, went to university in Montreal, and represents a Montreal electoral district in Parliament) is a good example of Ontario swinging east. While BC did give a plurality of its votes to the Liberals in 2015 too, it only amounted to 17 out of the 42 seats in that province; in contrast, in the Atlantic Maritimes the Liberals swept all 32 seats in the four provinces of the region, and in Ontario the Liberals won 80 out of 121 seats.

In 2008 and in 2006, Ontario did not give a majority of its seats to any party. Moreover, in neither of those elections did Ontario and Quebec give a plurality or majority of their seats to the same party. This resulted in both cases in federal minority governments.

In 2008, Ontario gave a plurality of seats to Harper’s Conservatives, who won big majorities in every province west of Ontario but who lost in every province east of Ontario except New Brunswick. Quebec meanwhile gave a large majority to the Bloc Quebecois that year. In 2006, when Harper’s minority victory was much narrower than in 2008, Quebec also gave a large majority to the Bloc Quebecois, but Ontario gave a plurality to the Liberals rather than to Harper.

In 2006 the Alberta-BC divide was also larger than in 2008 or 2011: the Conservatives swept Alberta but won only a plurality in BC. (New Brunswick however did fall in line with its fellow Maritimers in 2006: all four gave a majority of seats to Liberals). In both the 2006 and 2008 elections, every province west of Ontario gave majorities or pluralities to the Conservatives, while none to Ontario’s east (except, again, New Brunswick in 2008) did so.

While geopolitical patterns such as these vary over time and so are not certain to endure, still it is clear they run deep. Quebec’s political leanings in particular may deserve special attention in this regard, given that province’s size and unique identity. For over ninety years, from 1891 to 1984, Quebec gave a plurality of its parliamentary seats to the Liberals in 25 out of 26 elections. This long era ended only when Pierre Elliot Trudeau resigned in 1984, leading later that year to the victory of Brian Mulroney, the only Quebec-born Prime Minister ever to have led a Conservative Party.

Mulroney not only triumphed over Trudeau’s successor John Turner, but did so by winning 211 seats in Parliament, the most in Canadian history. In all eight elections since then — until the most recent election in which the new, younger Trudeau emerged and secured 51 percent of Quebec’s parliamentary seats — the Liberals were unable to recapture the province. Before Justin, they fell behind the Bloc Quebecois there during six out of seven elections, and fell behind the NDP in the seventh.

This feat alone displays the unique mantle that Trudeau now wears. Quebec will probably remain very much on his mind in the years ahead, especially if the Conservatives or the NDP nominate a leader from the province, like Maxime Bernier or Guy Caron, to take over their parties this year and face down Trudeau in the 2019 election. Indeed, in spite of of all the noise I’ve made here about Ontario being a decisive force in Canadian politics, Quebec has been nearly as successful in getting its preferred candidates elected PM. It has done so in 28 out of 42 Canadian elections; Ontario in 30.

In Part 2 of this 3-Part essay, we will attempt to analyze the modern Canadian economy, and in Part 3 we will discuss how technological changes may impact the country. 

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North America

Cable-Cars: The Third Way

So imagine it’s the wonderful future, and everyone has the option of being ferried everywhere by autonomous cars.

The places that were once parking lots have been converted into parks, shops, or homes; the places that were once useless archipelagos of land trapped within highway cloverleafs have been converted into vertical parking lots for autonomous cars, which are capable of holding far more cars within a given space than any traditional parking lot ever could.

Getting Around

Upon entering a car at the front door of one’s home, and perhaps after deciding whether or not to drive the car or let the car drive itself instead, passengers will be confronted with a choice of three basic transportation options:

The most expensive, but also simplest and most private, option is to travel directly by car to one’s destination.

The second most expensive, but generally fastest, option will be to travel by car to a train station, then travel by train to another train station and, if necessary, travel by another car from the station to a destination.  In this future, the middle lanes of many urban highways will be converted into surface rail lines, making trains more widely available. (Also, subway systems will likely continue to expand over time). After dropping off passengers at these highway train stations, cars will be able to drive on to the nearby vertical parking lots.

Finally, the cheapest but slowest option will be to travel by car to a cable-car station. Cable-car stations will often be located within highway vertical parking lots, and also directly above highway train stations. After travelling by car to the nearest one, passengers will ride a cable-car to the train station.

In some places, cable-cars will also diverge from the highway, in order to link the highway to nearby areas that would otherwise be hard to reach as a result of barriers like rivers, escarpments, or valleys.

These cable-cars will not be eyesores — as are some current urban cable-cars, such as London’s Thames River cable-car; and as a monorail would be — as they will travel low to the ground in the middle of wide highways, rising higher only on occasion, mainly to pass over bridges that cross over highways.

Cable-cars will be the third option, for those not in a rush who are looking for a cheap way to travel. Their main purpose will be to link highway parking lots with highway train stations. This will be useful given that highway train stations will be spaced quite far apart from one another (since building train platforms in the middle of wide highways will be relatively expensive), and given that many parking lots will be located within the otherwise difficult-to-reach archipelagos of highway cloverleaf intersections.

As a bonus, cable-cars will increase the overall transportation capacity of a highway by roughly 2-4 thousand people per direction per hour, as well as overcome any topographic barriers adjacent to the highway. They will be particularly useful for highways that run along the floors of valleys, as many urban highways do.

What About Without Autonomous Cars?

This future arrangement does not even necessarily require fully autonomous cars. Semi-autonomous cars would be sufficient:

So long as cars could function autonomously from, say, 4am-5am, and so long as cars could function autonomously within vertical parking lots (which, unlike traditional parking lots, would be able to fill almost every last cubic metre of their volume with cars), the system could work. Passengers could order a car,  and it would be delivered directly to their home overnight.

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