Cities, Vol. 16, No. 4, pp.

247–257, 1999
Pergamon PII: S0264-2751(99)00023-2  1999 Elsevier Science Ltd. All rights reserved
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www.elsevier.com/locate/cities

Lynch revisited
New urbanism and theories of good city form

Larry R. Ford
Department of Geography, San Diego State University, San Diego, CA 92182-4493, USA

Over the past two decades, there has been increasing controversy about the pros and cons of
new urbanist or neo-traditional architecture and planning ideas. Some have argued that stan-
dard suburbia has become dull, alienating, and isolating and that a return to the design ideas
of the early twentieth century would be a step towards fixing the problem. Others have argued
that the new urbanism is just another marketing ploy aimed at segmenting buyers according
to aesthetic tastes in order to sell more houses. They argue that new urbanist communities are
unauthentic and that we cannot go back to the past. Both sides often take extreme stands and
there are few procedures for evaluating neo-traditionalist ideas in a reasonably objective way.
I suggest that the ideas of planner Kevin Lynch as published in three books: The Image of the
City, What Time is This Place?, and A Theory of Good City Form, can be useful in structuring
ways to monitor trends and compare the potentials of both standard and new urbanistic com-
munities.  1999 Elsevier Science Ltd. All rights reserved

Keywords: Architecture, Codes, Flexibility, Image, Street pattern, Traditional

Over the past 20 years a number of books and articles
have appeared which have been critical of the charac-
ter and design of suburban America. The basic alle-
gation in many of the critiques of suburbia is that
something has gone very wrong with the way many
middle class Americans have chosen to live (Davis,
1990; Kunstler, 1993; Langdon, 1994). As houses and
neighborhoods have increasingly come to be seen as
refuges from the social ills of the city and as sound
financial investments as much as places to live, Amer-
icans have tended to isolate themselves from civiliz-
ation and each other. Attacks on life in suburbia are
not new of course. During the 1950s and 1960s,
authors pointed out that life in the suburbs was often
sterile and dull – lacking the diversity and vibrancy
of life in the city (Whyte, 1956; Blake, 1964; Gans,
1967; Packard, 1972; Owens, 1973). These earlier
studies, however, tended to be quite vague when
defining just what “suburban” was and just why so
many alleged problems should occur there.
Part of the problem is that there has never really
been a consensus about just what “suburban” means.
Some writers compare central cities to the political
entities beyond but in cities such as Houston, Oklah-
oma City, and Los Angeles, much of the suburban
landscape is inside the city limits and so the central
city vs suburbs contrast is nearly meaningless
(Teaford, 1979). In addition, in many urban areas,
such as New York, New Jersey, some of the oldest
and poorest areas are located outside the central city
boundaries. Consequently, quantitative information
such as census data on “suburbia” and associated life
styles are often difficult to interpret.
Sometimes the term “suburban” is used to describe
areas that are simply low density areas that are a long
way from the traditional downtown, especially if they
are socially and racially homogenous with popu-
lations made up of young, white, middle-class famil-
ies. The derogatory term most often used to describe
such areas is “sprawl” (Editors of Fortune, 1958;
Higbee, 1967). Suburbia, thus defined, is simply what
the traditional city is not. It is not compact, dense,
and diverse. But this definition too can be quite vague.
Until recently, critiques of specific aspects of urban
design and city form were rare, except for comments
on the problems associated with the predominance of
auto-dependent, low-density developments featuring
only single family houses.
Many of the earlier criticisms of suburban develop-
ments are even less valid and useful today than they

247
 Lynch revisited: L R Ford
were, say, 30 years ago. Since 1960, for example,
more apartment units have been built in the suburbs
than in central cities (Neutze, 1968). Suburbia no
longer is made up of only single family homes and
middle-class nuclear families in the tradition of Levit-
town. Similarly, shopping malls and office parks have
brought immense numbers of jobs, shopping, and rec-
reational activities to the once homogeneously resi-
dential suburbs. The more the character of suburbia
has changed, however, the more many of the prob-
lems of isolation and anomie have remained the same.
People buy bigger homes with more luxurious fea-
tures than they can afford and so two or more family
members must sometimes work long hours and com-
mute long distances to pay for them. The home as a
center for family life thus becomes more of a dream
than a reality as people are rarely at home.
But today, many of these problems are more
closely linked to the details of architecture and urban
design than to shear physical distance, homogeneity,
and remoteness. Consequently, recent critiques of
suburban development have been far more specific
and focused on the details of such topics as street
patterns and house form (Wright, 1981; Girling and
Helphand, 1994; Southworth and Ben-Joseph, 1997).
In this sense, they are defining “suburban” in terms of
a set of landscape features rather than distance from
downtown or political boundaries. This makes dis-
cussing the pros and cons of suburban developments
much easier since at least all the participants can be
“on the same page” with regard to the types of areas
being examined.
Critiques of the suburban landscape
The basic lay-out and street morphology in most new
suburban areas is responsible for much of the iso-
lation that many writers critique. The neighborhood,
a cherished ideal for many Americans and the main
theme of much real estate promotion, has become a
myth for most suburbanites because the spatial link-
ages that sustain it have been severed. The cul-de-sac
and “loop and lolli-pop” streets of most new suburban
areas have been designed to accentuate privacy, iso-
lation, and disconnectedness (Kunstler, 1996). Chil-
dren must be driven to school, recreation centers, and
the homes of friends because most activities are
located not only far away but in auto-dependent land-
scapes. It is impossible, inconvenient, or even danger-
ous to try to get anywhere on foot since major shop-
ping centers and even fast food restaurants are likely
to be located on six- to eight-lane highways with no
pedestrian walkways and surrounded by massive
parking lots.
Even the smaller, residential streets are often too
large since strict guidelines have mandated that they
be wide enough for fire trucks and other service
equipment. In addition, many new residential areas
are walled, gated, and located at the end of long cul-
de-sac street systems. Places that are close as the crow
248
flies, such as the homes of friends, churches or
schools, are sometimes very difficult to get to. People
must go everywhere by car.
The residential architecture and micro-spatial
arrangements found in many modern residential areas
can also work against the creation of a “neighbor-
hood” atmosphere. For example, suburban houses
often are designed with the garage (often a two- or
even three-car garage) and associated paved drive-
way in front with little else in the way of a house
facade. Even the front door may be relatively invisible
compared to the dominant garage doors. This sort of
house does not present a warm or welcoming image
to the street. Where garages dominate, the sidewalk,
if there is one, is constantly intruded upon by drive-
way space making strolling in the neighborhood seem
unappealing and inappropriate. Since most of the life
of the house takes place toward the rear, there are few
“eyes on the street” and so casual neighborly encoun-
ters and even safety can suffer. How, we may ask,
did this situation come to be?
The increasing scale of suburban
development
Many of the landscape features that characterize sub-
urbia today are directly related to the increasing scale
of development. Before World War II, residential
areas were typically constructed by “builders” who
would simply buy lots on already-established city
streets and put up a few houses at a time. Thus even
new houses were connected to the social and commer-
cial fabric of the city. After the war, builders were
replaced by “developers” who prepared large tracts of
“virgin” land and constructed hundreds or even thou-
sands of look-alike houses over a brief period of time.
By the 1970s, struggling municipal governments
increasingly required that developers build more and
more of the “community” facilities from parks and
schools to lakes and other amenities and then pass on
the costs to buyers. As cities and counties opted out of
building communities, developers picked up the slack.
Building entire residential communities is, however, a
very capital-intensive undertaking and so the financial
risks can be monumental. As a result, lenders have
played an ever-increasing role in designing American
places (Kling et al, 1991).
Lenders do not like experiments. When hundreds
of millions of dollars are on the line, financial insti-
tutions like safe investments which meet all existing
state and federal guidelines from setbacks and street
widths to off-street parking requirements. They want
to finance projects that will hold their value and be
totally devoid of controversies, law suits, and avant-
garde lifestyles. They want to appeal to buyers seek-
ing safe communities and safe investments.
By the late 1950s and early 1960s, the “normal”
suburb had become the garage-dominant house
located on a winding cul-de-sac street in the middle
of a vast area zoned residential only (Babcock, 1966).
 Lynch revisited: L R Ford
Apartments were isolated in special zones and so
were commercial activities. By the 1970s and 1980s,
however, even shopping centers and office parks were
also the responsibility of private developers. As the
size of investments rose, the reliance by developers
on standard, conservative designs increased as well.
One result of this conservatism has been the increas-
ing reliance on codes, covenants, and restrictions (C,
C and R’s).
Codes, covenants and restrictions are used to cover
just about every aspect of life in the suburbs. The
style and color of houses, the types of vegetation
allowed in the front yard, fences and other accouter-
ment, the parking of vehicles on the streets, and even
how old residents must be to live there or how long
a garage door can be left open are all subject to con-
trol by community rules (Langdon, 1994). These rules
are often required by lenders who feel that any vari-
ation from proper decorum could result in massive
financial losses given the size of the investment and
the their necessarily long-term involvement with the
project.
Obviously, codes, in combination with strict zon-
ing, mean that corner stores and service establish-
ments are not allowed. Thus, commerce tends to be
dominated by “big box” retailing such as discount
stores and malls which are located on the major
thoroughfares that divide cul-de-sac communities.
Everything, even the smallest shopping trips, must be
made by car. Even where commercial or community
facilities activities are allowed, the street systems
make it difficult to have a nearby threshold popu-
lation. Dendritic street patterns and isolated cul-de-
sacs mean that walking to a church, store, or park is
not common even when residential densities are mod-
erately high.
The trend toward C, C and R’s has been criticized
as contributing to inflexibility, homogeneity, and iso-
lation. Not only must all of the houses look the same
and be painted essentially the same color, daily activi-
ties in front of the house are severely circumscribed.
Most, if not all of the landscape maintenance is typi-
cally done by the “community” organization and so
neighbors rarely interact while trimming vegetation or
mowing the lawn. In addition, washing or repairing
automobiles in the drive-way is usually strictly pro-
hibited and so helping each other with tinkering tasks
is not something neighbors are likely to experience.
Permission must be granted from “the authorities” in
order to change even small design details. The indi-
vidualism that America is known for has become sus-
pect in suburbia. And so, there are not only fewer
places to go in the community, but there is less to do
at home. Many have argued that we are failing to pro-
vide interesting, flexible, and sociable residential
environments.
New urbanism: a solution or more of the
same?
In recent years, a number of proposals have been put
forward to remedy such suburban problems as sterility
and isolation. Chief among them is something called
neo-traditional or, ironically, “new” urbanism. New
urbanism basically calls for a revival and recombi-
nation of several traditional urban elements (Katz,
1994; Norquist, 1998). Advocates call for a return to
a grid pattern with narrow streets and short blocks.
Garages should be located on alleys behind houses
and commercial structures and all buildings should
have gregarious and friendly facades where they face
the street. Traditional commercial districts should
require a streetwall of shops with frequent doors and
windows while houses should feature front porches
and be positioned on their lots within “hi there” dis-
tance of the sidewalk.
Each neighborhood should have a “small town”
commercial node within walking distance of most
residences. Apartments should be allowed over shops
and on some of the blocks closest to the center of
town so as to provide a wider range of rents than is
usually found in new suburbs. Schools, parks, civic
structures, and schools should also occupy prominent
positions near the center of town. In short, the new
urbanism suburb should be a replica (or simulacra) of
the classic small town or city of the early twentieth
century – a sort of Norman Rockwell kind of place.
Two approaches: urban in-fill or new
communities
Of the two new urbanist strategies, urban in-fill has
attracted the least attention even though the resulting
neighborhoods are actually closer to the stated goals
of most new urbanists than are totally new develop-
ments. In-fill projects in the new urbanist tradition can
vary greatly in size, but they nearly always use pre-
existing city streets and neighborhood organization,
although sometimes with a few modifications. Some-
times entire areas are cleared and redeveloped but
often, some older buildings are saved and new “tra-
ditional” houses and businesses are inserted into the
urban fabric. In-fill projects are often allied with his-
toric preservation schemes aimed at enhancing older
communities rather than disrupting them with inhar-
monious modernity.
Although there is some debate concerning just how
big a project must be to constitute full-on neo-tra-
ditional urbanism, there are many examples of in-fill
projects featuring the aesthetics and functional
arrangements advocated by new urbanists. In cities as
diverse as Newark, Pittsburgh, Columbus, Indiana-
polis, San Francisco, and Sacramento, for example,
neighborhoods with front porches and alley garages
have appeared which emulate if not fully replicate the
ambiance of nearby traditional urban and suburban
streets. Most of these neighborhoods are quite mixed
in age, ethnicity and income.
The Crawford Square neighborhood located in the
old, largely-black Hill District next to downtown
Pittsburgh, for example, is both charming and pictur-
esque and occupied by a diverse population with
moderate incomes. In Sacramento, Columbus, Ohio,
249
 Lynch revisited: L R Ford
Figure 1 Urban in-fill: Indianapolis
Figure 2 Urban in-fill: Columbus, Ohio
Figure 3 Garage-dominant housing: Orange County, Califor-
nia
and Indianapolis, new “traditional” houses and streets
of houses have been inserted seamlessly into cen-
trally-located, largely-minority neighborhoods. While
some gentrification has occurred as a result of this
process, all of the areas are still very diverse. For
some advocates of neo-traditionalism, such careful,
250
Figure 4 Walled suburbs: Phoenix, Arizona
Figure 5 Urban in-fill: Indianapolis
Figure 6 Urban in-fill: Indianapolis
small-scale redevelopment represents the salvation for
many inner-city areas since most neighborhoods can
be gradually upgraded regardless of the character of
the existing architectural stock. Gentrification can
thus be spread out and diluted so as to increase the
vitality of many neighborhoods rather than focused
on only one or two and thus driving up rents and
prices and causing displacement (Figs 1–4).
 Lynch revisited: L R Ford
Figure 7 Celebration: Orlando, Florida
Figure 8 Celebration: Orlando, Florida
Figure 9 Urban in-fill: Pittsburgh
Far more controversial are the big, comprehensive,
and much-publicized new communities that have been
built in the neo-traditional style. Examples include
Disney’s Celebration near Orlando, Florida, Laguna
West near Sacramento, California, Seaside, Florida,
and Kentlands, north of Washington, DC. These, and
other similar projects, represent attempts by well-
known advocates of neo-traditional planning and
Figure 10 Urban in-fill, Newark
Figure 11 New old house: Coronado, California
Figure 12 Traditional grid: San Diego, California
architecture to create places which will encourage a
more sociable and less auto-dependent lifestyle. They
are meant to grow into modern variations of good,
old-fashioned towns complete with grids of narrow
streets and downtown commercial districts with busi-
ness flush to the sidewalk. Unlike the in-fill projects
discussed above, these developments are usually com-
pletely disconnected from both traditional cities and
251
 Lynch revisited: L R Ford
standard suburbs. This means, however, that there are
no pre-existing populations to support retailing and
other services and so the commercial areas have been
slow to develop and the home buyers have been for-
ced to commute like any other suburbanites
(Landecker, 1996). Proponents of these places, how-
ever, argue that urbanity will eventually arrive (Figs
5–8).
Critiques of the new urbanism
The neo-traditional places that have actually been
built or at least started, such as Seaside and Cel-
ebration in Florida and The Kentlands in Maryland,
have been subject to a great deal of criticism. There
are essentially five basic charges against neo-tra-
ditional urban developments. The first is that they do
not really offer anything different from standard sub-
urban developments in that they are subject to the
same extensive codes, covenants, and restrictions
found in most new projects and so lack the kind of
flexibility and personalization that real “places”
require. Can neighborhoods call themselves tra-
ditional in any way if they are designed, controlled
and maintained by corporations? At the extreme,
opponents suggest that there is kind of a “big brother”
syndrome in which people are expected to buy a life-
style as well as a house. The guidelines are clearly
laid out in the promotional brochures.
The second charge is that the architecture and lay-
out of these projects are unauthentic, inappropriate,
and overly cute. There is a preponderance of “ye
olde” cottages and too few gas stations. It is as if
models for the “good life” ended somewhere around
1910. There is suspicion that the gingerbread and
white picket fence look is just not what modern life is
about. Eventually, people may become tired of being
forever trapped in Victoriana. Again, at the extreme,
opponents suggest that the projects play on a deep-
routed conservatism and the urge to escape to a past
where everything was cozy and predictable.
A third charge is that most of the larger projects at
least tend to be physically disconnected from existing
urban fabrics. Most of them are located on remote
greenfield sites well away from existing communities.
To the extant that this represents an escape from the
undesirable elements of auto-dependent suburbia, it
may be understandable, but it would seem that con-
necting up with urban or suburban neighborhoods
which share some desired neo-traditional character-
istics would be a good idea. Is it really necessary to
reinvent the wheel? In extreme cases, such as Dis-
ney’s Celebration near Orlando, the new community
is separated from pre-existing areas by a moat of lakes
and golf courses. Entering the community is thus
almost like entering a theme park. Of course, this
criticism does not apply to some of the in-fill projects
mentioned above, but, on the other hand, they are
sometimes criticized for possibly spear-heading gentr-
252
ification efforts associated with “downtown as theme
park” trends.
Fourth, there is the allegation that neo-traditional
projects are simply another way to segment the mar-
ketplace and to create specific lifestyle landscapes for
particular groups of people. This might be a laudable
goal up to a point but it also could serve to further
segregate urban populations if it appeals to a sugar-
coated past not shared by everyone. Small town
America at the turn-of-the-century may not have
much meaning for some minority and immigrant
groups. Landscape tastes could be one more divisive
element in addition to class and race. Residential
landscapes that are homogeneously cute may be no
better than those that are homogeneously modern.
Fifth, and finally, there is the allegation that neo-
traditional urbanism is based on a kind of architec-
tural determinism that has long been discredited. The
“if you build it, they will socialize” idea that advo-
cates of front porches and narrow streets desire cannot
be supported by existing evidence. Society has
changed. People today are too busy to sit on front
porches and chat or to hang out at corner stores and
exchange gossip (Figs 9–12)
In defense of the new urbanism
On the other hand, there is much to be admired in
the best of the neo-traditional developments. The five
criticisms introduced above can easily be countered
with five attributes. First, while there are usually
extensive C, C and R’s in neo-traditional projects,
they tend to allow for more variety than is common
in standard suburban planned unit developments. For
example, even Celebration and Kentlands offer a
fairly wide variety of house types, allowable color
schemes, yard sizes and arrangements, building tex-
tures, and densities compared to most standard sub-
urban projects of the same size. People have also
added decks, enclosed patios, and hung outside decor-
ations that, while subject to the corporation’s
approval, have served to personalize the landscape to
a greater degree than is possible in say, Irvine Ranch.
Thus, criticizing neo-traditional projects for having
extensive controls might not be completely fair.
Nearly all large subdivisions are now required by jit-
tery lenders to have some controls so that the massive
investments in housing and associated infrastructure
can be protected. Neo-traditional communities may
have found ways to soften, at least slightly, the range
and impact of such controls. For example, restrictions
on types of vehicles allowed or amount of time garage
doors can be open or trash cans are visible may dimin-
ish if all of this is located in the alley behind the
property rather than out front.
Second, while much of the architecture in these
projects may tend toward the cute and precious, it is
hard to say that it is any worse than standard garage
dominant structures found in most large subdivisions.
While the latter may be functional and reflect a mod-
 Lynch revisited: L R Ford
ern lifestyle, they are nearly universally viewed as
aesthetic problems. Indeed, many of the restrictions
on open garages and display of trash containers are
due to the fact that huge garages can look like indus-
trial hangars if “keep closed” guidelines are not
strictly enforced. It can easily be argued that neo-tra-
ditional housetypes are prettier than most of the stan-
dard options. In addition, they tend to be “gregarious”
in that they feature doors and windows visible from
the street, thus giving the neighborhood a humanized,
lived-in dimension. Typically, luxurious custom
homes feature many of the decorative embellishments
commonly used in neo-traditional projects such as
window shutters and brick facades confirming the
notion that when money talks, “tradition” often
reappears. Figure 14 Alleys and garages: Kentlands, Maryland
Third, some of the remoteness and isolation of neo-
traditional projects may be not only justifiable but a
good idea. Not only might it be desirable to distance
such projects from the worst aspects of highway-ori-
ented commercial strips with big box retailing sur-
rounded by massive parking lots, but also from some
of the finer-grained older neighborhoods. While there
are many examples of older, inter-war suburbs which
are similar in character to the “new” urbanist ideal
which have held their value very well, others have
had problems. Some of these problems have been the
result of past discrimination against traditional urban
characteristics by government agencies and lenders.
For example, during the late 1930s, the federal
government decided that alleys were a bad idea and
should be avoided (in part, as a result of exposes of
alley housing “slums” in Washington and other Figure 15 Urban in-fill: Sacramento, California
cities). Discrimination by FHA and VA lenders, as
well as many private institutions followed. In
addition, city codes and lending agencies often dis-
criminated against commercial properties and even
houses which had no off-street parking or other
desired “modern” amenities.
Blockbusting and other ghetto-making techniques
sometimes took a toll on older, “perceived as out-of-
date” neighborhoods as well. At least for a while, it
might be wise to locate neo-traditional projects in

Figure 16 Old houses and industry: San Diego, California

self-contained locations so as to level the playing field

Figure 13 Using the sidewalk: Kentlands, Maryland
and not saddle them with problems inherited from
another era. If they succeed, more daring, in-fill pro-
jects may follow.
Fourth, there is the matter of excessive market seg-
mentation. If market segmentation involves only
separating people by income and ethnicity then it
should indeed be criticized. On the other hand, pro-

253
 Lynch revisited: L R Ford
viding lifestyle zones for people with different tastes
may be a good way to humanize large metropolitan
areas. This has already happened of course. Central
cities now have work-lofts for artists, gentrified gay
communities, and waterfront condos with boat slips.
Why not create traditional-style neighborhoods where
people who want to sit on porches and walk to corner
stores can congregate?
Fifth, and finally, while architectural determinism
in the extreme is hard to defend, it is possible that
people just might behave differently if given the
chance. The explosion of side walk cafes and small
boutiques in historic districts across the country have
encouraged thousands to park their cars and stroll.
From Boston to San Diego, downtown sidewalks in
“historic” areas are full of people watching people. In
many suburban areas, such activities have been thor-
oughly designed out of existence. Perhaps the role of
“place” may be important after all (Figs 13–16).
Procedures for evaluating neo-traditional
communities
There seems to be no consensus with regard to the
attributes and faults of neo-traditional design (Krier
and Eisenman, 1989). Some people think they are
cute while others find them to be “hokey”. Often the
critiques tell us more about the personalities of the
authors then about the places being discussed. Many
debates, for example, involve rambling discourses on
“authenticity” without ever coming to grips with what
the term means or how it can be used productively.
Perhaps we need some organizing frameworks to
channel and focus our concerns. I am suggesting that
the work of Kevin Lynch might provide an example
of just such a framework. The works I will examine
include The Image of the City (Lynch, 1960), What
Time is this Place? (Lynch, 1972), and A Theory of
Good City Form (Lynch, 1981).
The Image of the City
According to this seminal book, a key variable in
determining environmental quality is legibility
(imageability). A good place is one that can be
mapped mentally – one that has an easily-remembered
spatial organization. A criticism of many standard
suburban tracts with their winding cul de sacs and
“loops and lollipops” street system is that they are
confusing and illegible. This, combined with the lack
of a commercial or civic nodes, means that people
become more inward-looking, confining ever more of
their time to house and yard. Identifying with a com-
munity in any but the most abstract and general way is
arguably difficult when residents do not have a good
mental picture of where the community is, how big
it is, or where it ends. Many neo-traditional projects,
on the other hand, are exceptionally imageable. Cel-
ebration is a case in point.
While having a moat of lakes and golf courses
254
defining the limits of a neighborhood can be criticized
as bad from the standpoint of connecting up with the
larger metropolis, it does make for a coherent com-
munity image. When coupled with an easily-under-
stood grid street system and an identifiable
civic/commercial node, such a development might be
considered to have almost textbook legibility. The
requisite nodes, edges, paths, districts, and landmarks
are all there.
Lynch also calls for legible environments to have
identity, structure, and meaning. To the extent that
projects have such things as a street grid and unusual
architecture, the first two requirements can be met
easily. Establishing meaning is a harder task. The jury
is still out on just what the romantic associations built
into many neo-traditional projects actually mean to
residents and visitors. This topic, however, can at
least be brought into a cogent and contextualized dis-
cussion using Lynchian methodologies.
What Time is this Place?
While The Image of the City was concerned with spa-
tial legibility, this later book focused on temporal
legibility – the place characteristics which facilitated
the perception, understanding, and celebration of the
passage of time. A good place, according to Lynch,
is one that not only tells us where we are (in time),
but where we have been and where we are going and
at what speed. A good city has depth and meaningful
temporal layers. There are clues to how things change
over time at many scales. Seasonal colors, old build-
ings and even roosters crowing at the crack of dawn
can provide us with pleasant, non-intrusive cel-
ebrations of the passage of time.
Lynch argues that change can be scary if it is not
well understood. Indeed, we use the term “changing”
neighborhood as a euphemism for “bad”. Gradual
change can be even more scary than sudden and mass-
ive change if the latter is at least clearly comprehen-
sible. For example, a gradually deteriorating neighb-
orhood may be more discomforting in some ways than
the impact of a storm or earthquake.
Gradual change can be good if it is not only for
the better but the processes are understood and
accepted. Good cities and neighborhoods, for
example, are those that can adjust and roll with the
punches. Even once homogeneous and sterile places
have mellowed and diversified over time. As people
have added fences, trees, decks, rooms, hedges and
the like, the community has become a place. Older
neighborhoods which were more diverse from the
start become even richer with the passage of time. A
problem arises, however, when neighborhoods
become frozen in time and change is disallowed.
Inability to change over time may be an increasing
problem associated with strictly controlled planned
unit developments. Beginning in the late 1940s with
projects such as Levittown, massive suburban tracts
were built with houses that basically all looked the
same. In 1964, a song entitled “Little Boxes” poked
 Lynch revisited: L R Ford
fun at the uniformity of American residential suburbs.
However, in recent years it has become evident that
even places like Levittown can evolve and change
over the years. Some houses have been enlarged and
redesigned, front yards have been landscaped at dif-
ferent times according to different fads, and the
neighborhood personalized in many and diverse ways.
The passage of time is now highly visible in the land-
scape. The question is, will the same mellowing be
possible in neighborhoods controlled by strict codes,
covenants, and other types of restrictions?
In this matter, it would seem that neo-traditional
communities would fare no better or no worse than
standard developments. Both would be “frozen in
time” to a much greater degree than most neighbor-
hoods of the past. However, neo-traditional communi-
ties might experience slightly different types of prob-
lems than other places. To the degree that such places
already contain references to both the past and
present, they might be seen as offering a thicker,
richer temporal dimension. On the other hand, to the
degree that they are self-consciously locked into one
temporal ideology, ie the “old-fashioned neighbor-
hood”, they may be even less able to change than
more ambitiously modern projects. What Time is this
Place? at least gives us some variables to ponder even
though the likely conclusions may be elusive.
A Theory of Good City Form
The third and final Lynchian work that I wish to con-
sider here is A Theory of Good City Form, published
in 1981. Lynch offers five “dimensions of perform-
ance”: vitality, sense, fit, access, and control. These
dimensions are not always easy to measure and they
may be in conflict one with another. They do, how-
ever, provide a context for discussions of the spatial,
physical, social, and political organization of various
types of developments. Some of the dimensions pro-
vide clear foci for comparing standard and neo-tra-
ditional projects while others do so to a much lesser
extent, but they all serve to keep the discourse going.
The first performance dimension is vitality, the
degree to which environments provide healthy and
life-enhancing settings. It has been said by some
skeptics that the only undeniable improvement in cit-
ies over the past 500 years has been in the area of
sanitation. Today, the issues that were all-important
in earlier centuries and in some developing nations
even now – safe drinking water, food, heat – are no
longer relevant for most Americans. We might argue
that this dimension offers relatively little of value in
comparing urban form. On the other hand, there are
some interesting, if subtle differences that are worth
discussing. Neighborhoods that can be shown to be
pedestrian-friendly and which encourage physical
activities such as walking and cycling in relatively
safe environments can be said to be “better” than
those which do not. Similarly, neighborhoods which
are relatively free of crime and delinquency may have
a higher degree of vitality. To the degree that neo-
traditional neighborhoods with sidewalks and corner
stores really do foster walking instead of driving, they
may be more vital. On the other hand, grid pattern
streets with stop signs and lights could mean more
traffic and pollution. There are pros and cons but
urban vitality is worth discussing.
The second measure is sense or, more specifically,
sense of place. According to Lynch, “I am here sup-
ports I am”. Place identity reinforces other aspects of
identity thus making life more vivid and meaningful.
This topic has already been discussed in the com-
ments on Lynch’s earlier books and so I will not
belabor it here. Suffice it to say that good places have
significance and identity but flexibility is also
important. If everyone is in unchanging agreement
that the meaning built into the landscape is appropri-
ate, then neo-traditional projects might be seen to
have an edge. If not, then opaqueness and flexibility
may be an advantage. Having no image might be bet-
ter than having a silly or oppressive one.
The third measure of performance is fit. The issue
here is the determination of how well urban environ-
ments fit the human body and human activities. The
question is “does the place work well?” It is tempting
to say that neo-traditional urbanism wins hands down
here. The wide streets with no sidewalks, walled
neighborhoods, big box retailing, and vast parking
lots associated with standard suburban developments
are emphatically not designed to be human scale. The
nooks and crannies of neo-traditional projects, such
as porches, sidewalk cafes, civic plazas, and narrow
lanes meet the requirement for human scale nicely.
On the other hand, providing the setting does not
always lead to the expected activities. If you build it,
will they come? If it is true that people are now so
tied to their televisions, computer screens, and auto-
mobiles that there is no time or inclination to use
neighborhood space, then the issue of fit (for people)
becomes moot. It may be that fitting automobiles into
the picture is the most important performance vari-
able.
The fourth measure of performance is access. Here
too it would seem that neo-traditional developments
have the advantage albeit less pronounced. Indeed,
many design efforts in standard suburban tracts have
been aimed at decreasing access. Walls, gates, cul de
sacs, garage dominant architecture, lack of sidewalks,
and a lack of pedestrian-friendly amenities have all
been aimed at limiting access and keeping “them” out
of the neighborhood. Of course, to the degree that
many neo-traditional developments are located in
remote areas with moats of green, limited access may
also be seen as a desired result. On the other hand,
residents in a neo-traditional environment should find
access to a variety of people and activities to be better
than in standard communities. Grid pattern streets are
a case in point. Even if density is held constant, a
grid of small blocks allows for contact with far more
addresses in a short distance than does a dendritic
street system of cul de sacs and “loops and lollipops”.
255
 Lynch revisited: L R Ford
In the latter, you often simply cannot get there from
here. In addition, visual access and permeability may
be facilitated by an environment with gregarious
house facades and many storefronts. It is possible,
however, that some types of access could suffer in an
“old fashioned” community. Massive discount stores,
for example, could be zoned out in some projects thus
limiting access to some products. This would seem
to be a minor concern unless an entire city became
neo-traditional.
The final performance dimension and the one that
gives the greatest advantage to standard suburban
developments is control. Cul de sacs, gated communi-
ties, walls, gates and the like are aimed at allowing
residents to control their space and protect it from
outsiders. In medieval times, a confusing, maze-like
street system was encouraged so as to give residents
the advantage over invaders in case the walls were
breached. This same fear of the outside world guides
much development today. If there is a simple grid
pattern, it is argued, speeders, trucks, criminals, and
the homeless will all find their way into the neighbor-
hood. Similarly, having commercial activities grouped
around a well-known civic open space will simply
invite “them” into the neighborhood. It is thus better
to keep retailing out on the “no man’s land” highways
and put up “residents only” signs to limit on-street
parking in the neighborhood. On the other hand, there
are counter arguments. Having more eyes on the street
as a result of porches and corner stores could help
people in neo-traditional communities to survey and
thus control neighborhood activities in the sense of
having “defensible space”. However, it is probably
safe to say that to the extent that control has been
seen as more important than say identity or fit, neo-
traditional projects have been viewed as problematic.
Conclusion: back to the future or forward to
the past?
The debate goes on. Should new residential develop-
ments reflect the latest in technology and facilitate
futuristic lifestyles or should they be designed to
encourage us to slow down and reflect upon the things
we have lost by moving too fast? There is almost no
way to win (or lose) a debate that is so couched in
emotional issues and ideologies. Whenever words like
“authenticity” or even “efficiency” are discussed, it is
hard to stay for long on common ground. I have sug-
gested that some of the frameworks put forth by
Kevin Lynch in his books on urban design and the
quality of life can be used productively to focus
debates on topics such as the potential of neo-tra-
ditional urbanism to enrich life in suburbia. The treat-
ment of his arguments and ideas has been brief and
cursory but I hope that the basic idea will gradually
lead to a discussion of new procedures for evaluating
the spatial and symbolic organization of life in metro-
politan communities.
256
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