Paved Paradise

Parking sounds mundane until you realize it acts like an operating system for the modern city. On our live episode recorded at the APA Nebraska Fall Workshop with journalist and author Henry Grabar, we trace how a space designed for storing cars came to shape housing, transit, budgets, safety, climate resilience, and even what kinds of buildings are legal to construct. From early street management to mid‑century mandates, parking policy filters into everything residents notice—congestion, taxes, where businesses thrive, and whether a neighborhood feels walkable. Henry’s central point is disarming in its simplicity: build more parking, and you incentivize more driving. That feedback loop erodes density, pushes destinations farther apart, and makes non‑car travel less viable, cementing a pattern where every new trip demands a new space to store a vehicle. We explore how research confirms this causation and how cities that added supply decades ago now see the downstream mode shift toward driving as the dominant outcome.

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History provides texture—and warnings. Before cars, “parking” involved live animals and a different set of rules and nuisances. The lineage still lingers in words like “pound,” once for stray cattle and today for towed vehicles. Once the automobile arrived, the cultural pivot was stark: what had been seen as a nuisance became a mandated amenity, baked into zoning as parking minimums that silently dictate site plans and demolition decisions. Henry’s “forbidden city” framing hits hard: many beloved pre‑war main streets, mixed‑use blocks, and quirky apartment buildings would be illegal to build today because parking requirements swallow neighboring parcels and budgets. The loss isn’t just aesthetic; it’s economic and social. Every mandated stall crowds out housing units, storefronts, trees, and taxable floor area, while adding project cost that flows into rents and prices.

The money trail reveals why “free parking” is an illusion. For decades, parking operations were the largest cash business in the country, creating perverse incentives, leakage, and, at times, outright theft. We discuss the shift to card systems, with cities discovering that revenue rose even as traffic fell—a sign that technology and accountability matter. But the more sobering case study is Chicago’s meter lease: a rushed privatization that traded short‑term cash for long‑term control. Rates now better reflect demand, yet the value no longer funds public goods. Every bike lane, bus lane, or street closure triggers payments to investors. The lesson isn’t that public‑private partnerships cannot work; it’s that contracts must preserve civic flexibility and align incentives with the city’s long‑term mobility and land‑use goals.

COVID-19 turned the curb into a canvas. Overnight, parking lanes became dining rooms, pickup zones, parklets, and safer sidewalks. That experiment showed residents the curb is prime public real estate, not a default car shelf. Still, the pandemic battered transit ridership and budgets, exposing how fragile a nine‑to‑five commuter model can be. If cities want the density and foot traffic that power small businesses and culture, they need frequent, reliable service for the trips many riders actually make: night shifts, weekend jobs, childcare, and medical visits. Henry argues that real mode shift tends to appear where driving is less convenient and alternatives are viable—a delicate sequence many regions must choreograph. Charge rational prices at the curb, fill underused garages with all‑day parkers, and reinvest proceeds into safer walking, biking, and better buses. The result is not an overnight revolution, but a steady expansion of choices that lowers household car dependence.

Equity is the hinge. Owning a car can be a lifeline; requiring one is a tax that many households cannot bear. When parking policy compels every building to store cars, we embed those costs into everything from rent to groceries. A fairer system recognizes trade‑offs plainly: if all parking is free, there will be shortages; if shortages persist, projects swell around lots, thinning the urban fabric and tax base. Performance pricing improves turnover in busy blocks while keeping lower‑cost options a short walk away. Residential permits can prevent spillover but should be calibrated to actual occupancy, not perceived fullness at 50 percent. As minimums fall in more cities—Buffalo, Hartford, San Francisco, Minneapolis—lenders are slowly adapting, using comps from successful projects that rented units without bundled stalls. University towns offer another proof point: when curb management is smart and transit is dependable, fewer residents bring cars, and new housing can fit on tighter sites without sacrificing affordability.