Sunday, December 6, 2015

The Shoupian approach to street parking: applicability and critique

For those who do not know, Donald Shoup is an American expert of parking policy. He is also the author of the very important "The high cost of free parking", the foremost criticism of American parking policy practices, detailing the irrationality of off-street parking requirements and their negative impacts on American cities. Note: I have not read his book, but have been exposed to his ideas through other books (Suburban Nation, Walkable City) and in interviews of the man.

One of his most famous recommendations is to implement a policy targeting a 85% occupancy rate for street parking by modulating parking prices. That is, by understanding parking demand as a price-responsive quantity, when parking is overloaded, prices can simply be increased to return to a desired occupancy rate by depressing demand. Why 85%? Because it's a good compromise between optimal use of the parking spots and allowing for drivers to find a parking spot easily, avoiding cars driving around for 5-10 minutes to find a parking spot. It also assists in turnover, allowing more people to park by limiting in time the duration each car remains parked.

In a way, that's a bit like my Easy Solution to Congestion a few posts back:
The Easy Solution to Congestion
Anyway, this approach of targeting a certain occupancy rate by modulating price is what I call the Shoupian approach.

A parking demand curve and the Shoupian Approach, the price that yields a 85% occupancy rate at that point in time is 0,65$ per hour
Donald Shoup has promoted the use of automatic parking meters that could adjust prices in real time based on current occupancy.

This approach was tailor-made for a particular situation common to North America where cities are trying to maintain their old main streets alive. These are areas built largely before parking minimums, with a lot of commercial uses. There may be a few parking lots, but for the most part, parking demand is satisfied through on-street parking.

So I've been thinking about that proposal a bit, and I'd like to bring up a few things about it, because I do not think it's the best approach ever. It may be the best approach that is likely to be put in place, but there are a few things that annoy me a bit with it.

But first, let me address something that is often erroneously claimed about it:

The Shoupian approach is not a market approach

Many people call the Shoupian approach a "market-based" approach because prices vary with demand. That is however not correct. In the Shoupian approach, the parking authority is still publicly-owned and parking is still a public service. So it's a monopoly situation with one parking provider.

What defines a market is a great number of providers competing to provide a particular good and their profit motive. Their goal is to provide goods to satisfy demand at a price over the cost of production so that a profit can be obtained. These providers have one goal: maximize profits.

So in a market, there is a companion to the demand curve, the supply curve. What the supply curve means is that when prices go higher, it entices new providers to enter the market and produce that particular good, thus increasing the quantity of it on the market. For example, if you're sitting on an oil well from which you can produce oil at 70$ a barrel, but oil is currently at 60$ a barrel on the world markets, you're going to keep sitting on it, why produce oil if you're just going to lose money on each barrel you produce (supposing you have no fixed cost)? If oil on the market increases to 80$ a barrel, THEN you will start producing as many barrels as you can sell.

This creates a feedback system wherein higher prices for a good gets people to produce more of it, thus increasing supply and stabilizing the price (keeping it from rising).

The Shoupian approach has no such feedback system, it supposes that parking supply is fixed, then determines a price to maintain a desired demand for it. In effect, the Shoupian approach is a rationing system, using price as a means of rationing.

The lack of profit motive also has a major impact. Shoup admits that in most places, his approach actually results in free parking or in lower fees than are currently in place where parking is already metered. The price is chosen only for its ability to reach the desired 85% occupancy rate, so if the occupancy rate is below 85% even when parking is free, then parking should be free.

A for-profit parking operator on the other hand doesn't target occupancy, he targets profit.

For example, let's take this demand curve for parking at a point in time:
Example of a demand curve for parking (for a fixed supply of parking)
The Shoupian approach says the price of parking should be such that occupancy is 85%. Well, in this case, that price is 0$. So parking should be free.

Now, let's put ourselves in the shoes of a for-profit parking operator. He wants to profit from his parking, that's all. So what he's going to do is simply multiply the occupancy rate by the price, then subtract the cost of enforcement of the parking charge (for example, an employee paid 15$/hour per 40 spots, making sure people pay their fare and calling the cops if they won't).

In the end, he can get a new graph that looks like this:
A profit graph relative to price set on the parking (note that since free parking doesn't necessitate enforcement, it doesn't lose money despite having no revenue)
So in this case, the for-profit operator would prefer a price of 1,75$/hour to maximize his profits.

To sum up, the Shoupian parking operator starts from a desired occupancy rate, then fixes price according to it. The for-profit operator determines the prices that would yield the most profit and fixes it, and the actual occupancy rate is irrelevant to him (but if the occupancy rate is always low, he may look to unload some of his parking spots that don't earn him enough money, another effect of market feedbacks).
The Shoupian and for-profit reasoning put on the graph of the demand curve
So a for-profit parking system would generally result in much higher fees than a Shoupian approach, except in periods of very high demand. The Shoupian approach sees no problem with free parking, as long as demand remains low, because it sees parked cars as a good in itself. The more parked cars, the better, because that means more people coming into the area (for example: coming shopping).

Note that if a for-profit owner owns both a building and its parking, he may also accept free parking because enticing more people to come park at the building is good for him as he gets profits from the building itself, so he may take a loss on his parking to get higher profits from the building he owns.

Anyway, that leads to my first beef with the Shoupian approach...

The Shoupian approach is not a "user-payer" approach

"User-payer" means that the user of a particular good ought to pay a price at least equal to the cost of providing it. If something costs 2$ to provide, you should pay 2$ or more. When the "user-payer" principle isn't respected, it means that someone else is paying for that good, in effect, a subsidy. I'm not against a subsidy on principle (I do identify as a socialist), but subsidies encourage consumption of goods, so you need to be able to argue that encouraging that consumption satisfies social or moral objectives (for example: health care subsidies). In my view, encouraging the consumption of parking is not a good idea.

The Shoupian approach just ignores completely the cost of providing the parking, it is completely irrelevant in its price-fixing reflexion. It even allows for free parking to exist. And even when there is a fee, Donald Shoup recommends the money NOT be used to pay for the maintenance of the parking spots, but to provide new amenities to the commercial area where the fees are collected (which makes it far more palatable for the community and thus helps social acceptance of the fees).

The reason why a socialist like me is interested in a market-based system is because a for-profit operator by definition has to apply "user-payer". He cannot provide a good for less than it costs him to produce, or he would go bankrupt. Therefore, a market for parking achieves the objective of making car drivers pay the full cost of the parking they use.

In a way, the Shoupian approach is like a congestion charge. It only applies to overloaded infrastructure, leaving under-used infrastructure free to use and subsidized by society. I criticized the congestion charge for this because it can lead to free highways in suburbs and expensive streets in cities, thus having the city subsidizing the suburbs. A Shoupian approach can have the same effect of leaving parking in low-density area free and subsidized while charging high prices for downtown parking. Parking in low-density areas are cheaper to provide, so it should be cheaper, but not subsidized, not free.

The Shoupian approach doesn't help determine the quantity of parking

As I said, the Shoupian approach of targeting occupancy is essentially a rationing system. But a rationing system is generally used in a case of fixed supply. There is no mechanism to vary parking supply in reaction to price signals. Street parking is, in the end, a very dumb thing, even dumber than minimum parking requirements. Whether you are in suburbs or in the heart of a dense city, it provides roughly the same amount of parking per square kilometer (I estimated up to 5 000 spots per square kilometer, 13 000 per square mile). Some people pretend that this is essentially "free" space anyway, as if roads are going to be built wide enough to have cars parked on it anyway, but that's just not true. You can build narrower roads, for some density gains, or build bike paths or larger sidewalks with that space.

If off-street parking requirements are ill-advised and unscientific, what would we say of planners building a fixed amount of street parking without regard to the land use expected in an area? But anyway, that is just my typical rant on street parking, let's move on...

A market-based approach to parking on the other hand DOES provide a mechanism to determine the amount of parking to be built. You can probably estimate that if you build a parking spot in a given location where there was none, this spot will be occupied most of the time by a car (though depending on the land use around it, it may be free at night or during the day). But as you keep adding parking spots to a lot, each additional spot will be occupied less often than the previous one.

Think of a shopping mall's parking, the spots near the doors are nearly always in use during the business hours, the spots at the farthest spot from the door are always empty, except maybe once every year. Well, a parking spot only generates revenue when a car is in it, whether through hourly fees or by the revenue generated by a customer (in the case of a free parking attached to a store). So it would stand to reason that a parking spot occupied 30% of the time would generate twice as much revenue as one occupied just 15% of the time, yet both are likely to cost the same to build and maintain.

So again, an example, let's say someone builds a parking lot and estimates the marginal occupancy rate of parking spots this way:
Example of a marginal occupancy graph for the number of spots in a parking
Well if he gives a flat value of 2$ per hour of revenue each hour a parking spot in in use, and he estimates that each parking spot has an annualized cost of 800$ (including annualized cost of land and construction, plus yearly maintenance and operation), then he could get the following graph:
Marginal revenue vs annualized cost
In that example, building more than 30 parking spots is wasteful because the revenue of each additional parking spot will be less than the annualized cost. So a smart developer will not build more than he can justify economically.

OK, you don't actually need a market to do so. You could have a public parking authority that is asked to self-fund and it would follow the same logic, competition or not. I'm not opposed to the idea as such, but a market may be simpler to put in place.

The risk of "dumping" and disrupting the emergence of a parking market

So could the solution simply be to have on-street parking (and any potential publicly-owned parking lot) follow the Shoupian approach and let private developers develop a parallel parking market? Well, there is a big issue when doing that, because the two are in competition, yet do not share the same logic.

The Shoupian approach is fine with free, subsidized parking as long as occupancy rate is below 85% if prices are zero and it won't follow the market prices if these result in less than an 85% occupancy. This creates a weird interplay with private parking options as you have different market participants with completely different behavior, one targeting an occupancy ratio, the others maximizing revenue.

At times of great affluence, where every parking lot can be full, it can be workable, but in downtimes, the Shoupian operator will have no qualm about selling parking below cost to obtain its 85% occupancy ratio. This, in economic terms, is effectively dumping. Dumping is when a producer sells his product below cost in order to obtain a larger market share than his competitors, generally with the aim of pushing them to bankruptcy.

In this situation, though there is no ill intent, it remains that the Shoupian parking authority will end up dumping its parking on the market, because it can and will sell its parking below cost to achieve its occupancy goal, to the detriment of private parking options.

This dumping can reduce the revenues from private parking options and disrupt the creation of parking markets.


I get it, the Shoupian approach is made for a certain political and urban context in America. It is made to deal with areas where most parking is already provided by the city through street parking. It is a much better alternative to dealing with parking issues than parking requirements for developers. Basically, reduce demand at hours of great demand through rate hikes rather than increasing parking supply and keeping it free. I really do get it. And the idea of increasing fares when occupancy is above 85% makes sense.

However, I'm not keen on the fact that it is also recommended to lower rates when occupancy is below 85%, even to make it free if need be. I understand the logic: people who come park there contribute to the local economy by shopping around, going to restaurants, etc... The policy seeks to maximize parking use to get more people to come... but personally, I don't want to maximize parking use, I would prefer for parking to be used less by having people come on foot, on a bike or on transit. I don't want to force them out of their cars, but I do want them to pay for parking on a "user-payer" basis to use price to signal how expensive cars are to accommodate in cities and to encourage other means of getting around. Free parking is one of the worst subsidies to car-driving, and the most significant one in urban areas, and it is one that the Shoupian approach can maintain as long as occupancy rates for free parking doesn't reach 85%. The underlying assumption seems to be that people who come to an area by car would never come to it through any other mode.

In my ideal world, there would be no street parking at all, all parking would be provided through a for-profit market or by store owners willingly building parking (without being required to). However, in a more practical way, I do agree with Shoup that, when parking on the street is very rare, hiking the fare to lower occupancy rates on street parking to 85% is a good idea, but I would prefer for parking rates to have a floor, so that it never goes below a certain cost, no matter how low the occupancy gets. In other words, keep the current hourly rates, but have surge prices for times with high demand.

Also, if there are private parking lots, I think it would be best to either include them in the surge prices or to have the parking authority actually match the market price of parking by copying the price private operators put on their parking.

Monday, November 16, 2015

Commercial or residential density: which is most important?

When people speak of density with regards to urbanism, most of the time, it is residential density they talk about: how many people live in a city per square kilometer/mile or hectare/acre. However, walkability is usually measured not by how many people reside near you, but by how many services and shops you can access from where you live. So to achieve great walkability, it would seem logical that commercial density is very, very important. After all, if all services and stores in an area are spread far apart, so that you cannot walk from one to another, it's likely the area would be unwalkable, there would be no place to live in where one could access all the services and shops to satisfy their needs. You could live next to a grocery or next to a few restaurants or next to the library, but you couldn't live in a place close to a grocery AND a few restaurants AND the library.

If one looks at old American small towns, in their old areas, the clash between commercial density and residential density can be quite significant.

A traditional American main street, St. Cloud, Minnesota
Here is the old main street, where old towns concentrated commercial activities. Notice something? Like nearly 100% lot coverage for the commercial buildings? This is not surprising considering that commercial uses have no use for front yards and back yards, and since they are not living spaces, they don't care about keeping the window-to-area ratio low, unlike residential uses where each room needs windows, more or less. So there was no point in wasting space by having courtyards or setbacks. This results in buildings that cover almost their entire lot. Since most of the buildings have 2 to 3 stories, it means a Floor-Area-Ratio of 150 to 250 %! Not too shabby. 

Even if only the ground floor is commercial and the upper floors are residential, leading to an L-shaped building as the upper, residential, floors have setbacks due to the need for windows...
The ground floor has near 100% lot coverage, the upper floors, which are residential, have about 50% due to the need for windows in order to have bedrooms, leading to an L-shape building

These buildings are another example, the upper floors are sitting on commercial pedestals that have near 100% lot coverage
...these buildings still have a commercial FAR of around 90-100%, with an additional 50-100% residential FAR.

But what about the residential areas just a few blocks away? Were they also very dense? Not quite:
Older residential area near St. Cloud's downtown area, mostly single-family houses with a density of about 10 000 people per square mile (4 000 per square kilometer), so about 40/hectare
Another example in the same city, but with a bit more low-rise apartments, resulting in a density of 15 000 to 20 000 people per square mile (6 0000 to 8 000 per square kilometer), about 60 to 80 per hectare
These areas are made up of detached buildings with large setbacks, the FAR should be around 25 to 50%, but the average seems to be around 30%.

So old American cities had very high commercial densities on main street but relatively low densities in residential areas. And we know these small towns were walkable because they were built in an era where cars were still relatively rare, if not outright in an era where they didn't exist.

Big boxes, mom-'n-pop stores: the logic of commercial uses

I once referred in the past to the self-evident fact that the number of stores that a city could support was dependent on the population and the wealth level, after all, one could hardly imagine 3 huge supermarkets in a village of 100. I mentioned particularly supermarkets, that needed from my estimates 8 000 to 12 000 people to be financially viable. In fact, I checked and there are 37 000 supermarkets in the US, for 315 million people, so around 1 supermarket per 8 500 people. The same is true for other types of stores, with varying "critical mass" of potential customers to be viable: for instance, there are about 2 000 people per convenience store in the US (1 400 in Québec), on the other hand, there is about one Wal-Mart supercenter per 100 000 people. Some stores probably overlap and compete for certain things, for example, a small neighborhood grocery theoretically fulfills the same role as a big supermarket, but can thrive on a smaller consumer base, at the cost of less choice and higher prices for their goods.

So if I can extrapolate from this seemingly self-evident fact that there can be too many stores for a given population, I can make a certain claim: the amount of commercial space in a city is limited by the population that can access it and its wealth level. Basically, there is probably a ratio of how many square feet of commercial area a given population can support. I don't know what that ratio is exactly, I found no study on the matter publicly available online, but the ratio probably fluctuates with certain cultural attitudes and wealth level.

Another thing is that the catchment area of a store depends on the mode of transport. For example, a Wal-Mart cannot survive on walking if there are only 2 000 people within a 10-minute walk of it, it will need to reach out to a bigger consumer base by either being located near a very high-capacity and high-speed transit line (rare in North America, common in Japan) or by offering parking and being located near high-speed roads so as to allow consumers to reach it.

What that means is that in the era in which small American towns were built, as travel speeds were quite low, commercial needs of the population had to be satisfied locally. Going to the next town over could take a few hours. That meant that the bigger the city, the more well-furbished and specialized stores could be found and accessible, while small towns had to deal with a dearth of commercial use, maybe just a general store where many things had to be ordered in advance. The usefulness of the Sears catalog is self-evident in such a context: allowing small towns to shop the products of a big department store that only large cities could otherwise support. Nowadays, with cars being so widespread, residents are no longer restricted only to their town's commercial offering but can access the entire region's offerings, putting old small stores at the center of urban areas in competition with big box stores located near high-speed roads.

A modelized thought experiment

OK, so I'm going to do a simplified model to explore the issue, inspired a bit by my exercise comparing uniform versus concentrated density. I'm going to suppose:
1- Uniform residential and commercial density
2- All commercial uses are at the center of the town (or neighborhood)
3- The ratio of commercial to residential floor space is 1 to 10, so for each 10 square meters of residential floor area, there is 1 square meter of commercial floor area (this is not based on any calculation of mine, just a random number)
4- Distance is measured as the bird flies rather than Manhattan distance, because it simplifies things.

The idea of all commercial uses being in one spot is a simplification, in reality, a few proximity stores will be distributed around the city, but I keep that assumption because commercial uses do tend to concentrate in one spot, especially specialized stores, and I want to look at people's ability to walk to all commercial uses, not just to the nearest one.  I will look at 4 scenarios to see how residential and commercial density play a role:
Scenario 1 is a traditional North American town with a dense downtown  and a relatively small population (10 000) Scenario 2 is a 20 000-people city with a typical sprawl-type commercial area in the center (low density commercial)

Scenario 3 is the opposite of scenario 2: the commercial center is still dense, but residential density is reduced by 33%. Scenario 4 is what is often seen, with low-density commercial areas largely located on the periphery

Scenario 1 is just a reference, it is a traditional small North American town, with relatively low residential density (30% FAR) but commercial uses concentrated in a small area downtown at decent density (100% FAR).

Scenario 2 is a scenario where the small town has grown to 20 000 people, allowing for a more diversified commercial choice. However, there are two main differences:
1- Segregated uses: there is no residential upper stories in the commercial downtown
2- Low-density commercial developments that reflect typical strip mall commercial developments with commercial areas surrounded by huge parking lots

A South Burlington, VT mall (thanks to Bill Morris in the comments for pointing out it's not actually in Burlington)...
...which has 8 600 square meters of floor area on a lot of 41 000 square meters, for a FAR of roughly 20%
Levittown, NY is a good example of that design, however the commercial area is not radial but linear
Scenario 3 is an hypothetical scenario where the commercial density is still 100%, so a traditional main street area, surrounded by lower-density residential areas with a FAR of 20%, the equivalent of single-family houses on lots of 800 square meters or so (1/5th of an acre). This means a much smaller commercial area, but a much larger residential area as residential density is lowered by 33%. I've also kept uses separated here, so no one lives in the commercial downtown.

Comparing Scenario 2 to Scenario 3 should demonstrate the relative importance of commercial vs residential density.

Finally, Scenario 4 is a much too frequent example of a small town which traditional downtown has been converted to strip malls (20% FAR commercial), but it has not been allowed to increase in size, so the downtown only has one fifth of the commercial uses it could hold before. The rest of the commercial buildings have instead been built at the periphery, near a theoretical highway, because that was the only place available for it. So we have a commercial area at the periphery, with a small commercial node at the center of the town.


Distance to center of commercial area

In the first approach, I will simply look at the distribution of the population depending on the distance to the middle of the commercial area, as I did earlier.

Now here are some specific data points, namely an estimate of a probability of walking to the center of the area (based on a personal estimate of probability of walking relative to distance), a share of population living within 600 meters (10 minutes walking distance) of that center and the median distance.

So the old American town is a very walkable town, with most people living within 10 minutes of the downtown area, but with only 10 000 people, the commercial area will not offer a lot of variety and choice. This is a town of small stores with relatively high prices and poor product selection.

Scenario 4 shows how the habit of building low-density commercial areas on the periphery by lack of space zoned commercial in the city is disastrous. There's very, very few people who live within walking distance of the commercial zone's center.

Scenarios 2 and 3 are the most interesting results. Here, we can see that though scenario 3 has a lower residential density and the median distance to the center is higher than Scenario 2, it still remains that significantly more people are within walking distance of the commercial zone. This makes sense as a more compact commercial zone allows the residential zone to begin much closer to the center. It's important to remember that walkability is a very, very local matter.

Distance to farthest commercial use

This is a variant of the first analysis. Instead of looking at the distance to an arbitrary center of the commercial zone, I look at the distance to the farthest commercial use, basically the opposite side of the commercial zone. This is an interesting data because it shows how much any one person can walk to the ENTIRETY of the commercial offerings rather than to a "center" where there might be nothing at all.
The center (red dot) of this commercial zone is not actually close to any commercial building except a small fast-food restaurant, every commercial building is 1,5 to 2 minutes away on foot.
So here are the results with an analysis focused on the furthest commercial use:

The traditional small town is still exemplary, but the small advantage of the scenario with a compact commercial zone but lower residential density (scenario 3) over that of the scenario with traditional residential density but a low density commercial zone (scenario 2) has become much more significant. Nearly 10% of the population in scenario 3 lives within very walkable distance from all commercial uses, but 0% do in scenario 2 (normal, as the commercial zone itself has a diameter of over 600 meters).

Note also that in reality, the patterns today are often more linear than radial, which makes things even worse for walkability. Also, that people may demand access to certain commercial uses that a 20 000-people city or neighborhood cannot support on its own (major mall, Wal-Marts or the like), which increases the need for proper transit so these uses can still be accessed without cars.


At least in the case of our recent development patterns, it would seem that achieving commercial density is far more important to re-establishing walkable cities than densifying residential areas. Concentrating commercial uses and economic activities creates an area where residents can access most economic activities on foot. Even if there are few people residing there currently, this is still an opportunity for redevelopment to bring people there, a way to urbanise a city or a neighborhood without even needing to affect any residential area beyond the walkable distance of the commercial core.

The Rosslyn-Ballston corridor in Arlington, VA is a rare successful example of a suburb that has been successfully urbanised in North America, yet all the urbanisation has been concentrated in a corridor about 500 meters wide, beyond that, areas remain suburban
A city is first and foremost about economic activities, not houses. And so, the density of economic activities is crucial, perhaps even more crucial to walkable, transit-friendly urbanism than dense residential areas. Building dense residential areas in a city where economic activities are spread apart may make the city more financially sustainable by providing a greater tax base for a given infrastructure, but it will not reduce car-dependency much, if at all.

Currently, commercial areas tend to be both extremely low-density and far from residential areas...
Above, a map of residential density of Levittown, NY, below, the WalkScore map of the same area, note how the highly walkable areas have no people in them, almost like a mirror image, due to use separation
...both of these need to be reversed. Discussions about the proper form of residential areas, though fascinating and very relevant, will stay quite secondary if we cannot get commercial area in an urban form. Indeed, while playing around with the inputs on my Excel models of the "commercial on periphery" model, even if I increase the average residential density to 200% FAR (which is the equivalent of a typical Euro-bloc with 3 or 4 stories), the area remains unwalkable with only 10% living within 10-minutes walking distance from the center of the commercial area, and no one living within walking distance of all commercial uses.

With a dense commercial core which is eminently walkable by itself, transit can become quite efficient as people living too far from it to walk only need to go there by transit once, when they get down from the stop or station, they have access to everything, needing transit only to go back home once they have finished their activities for the day.

Thursday, November 5, 2015

Porches, front yards and the (North) American way of life

So last weekend was my favorite holiday: Halloween. The well-known celebration of Halloween originated in the United States, a combination of many different influences, and it has migrated to Québec by the time I was born. As a kid, I loved going trick-or-treating, walking the streets, looking at houses with fake graveyards in front of them and the like. It got me thinking about the intersection between the celebration of Halloween and the built environment of North America.

Traditional North American residential practices

If there is one thing that defines North American architecture, especially in single-family areas, it is an openness of design. Traditional urban houses in much of North America is open to the street, with plenty of wide windows, porches and details to make the house look good to the street. Front yards have also been common for a century or more, and these are rarely fenced-in, and even when they are, they remain largely visible from the street or sidewalk. These front yards used to be of moderate depth before cars came around, but they have gotten deeper as time has gone on.

Traditional American duplexes in Albany, New York: Note the two large porches, one for each unit
Early 20th century houses (maybe duplexes) in Detroit
Another example of traditional American architecture, note the porch, the big windows in front, the attention to detail

4-plex kit sold by Sears in the early 20th century, once again, note that each apartment has a porch or a balcony (source)

Sears home duplex

Sears single-family home, made to fit a 32-ft wide lot
This is a duplex from Mont-Tremblant in Québec, like the American examples, it has big porches, but also the traditional exterior staircase common to Québec traditional housing design (which makes the ground floor porch exclusive to the ground floor unit)

Traditional homes and duplexes in Saint-Jérôme, Québec

Other examples of single-family homes and duplexes in Mont-Tremblant, Québec
Duplex in Boucherville
A few houses in the old section of Boucherville

Traditional European practices

This openness of design can be contrasted with many European countries who have buildings with plain façades built right on the property line (note: the apparent density may be deceptive, in many cases, houses have huge back yards so that overall density may be only 20-40% higher than traditional single-family areas in North America)...
I call this architectural style, common in France, "Castle under siege"

Example in France with small, fenced in, yards in front

Another example in France

Here is an example in Spain
An example in Manchester, UK
...or even if they have significant front yards, they often use fences to hide the front yard from the street.
A case of hedges used as fences, though these houses evoke ranch-style or bungalow-style houses common in North America, they are visually isolated by hedges and they do not even face the street

Two examples in France of single-family areas with small or medium front yards, largely hidden from the public by fences of some type

An example in Spain, with outright walls blocking the view on the big houses on big lots on either side of the street
(Note that some countries in Europe have more of an intermediate position like the Netherlands or England and that newer suburban areas often have front yards, even if they're usually fenced-off, or walled-off)

Public vs private realm

Where am I going with this? Well, first, I think it's important to talk about the public realm and the private realm. The public realm is any part of a city that is publicly accessible: street, sidewalk, park, plaza. The public realm also includes the visual elements visible from publicly accessible places. On the other hand, the private realm is everything that is not open to the public: people's homes and back yards are the typical example of it, as are offices and workplaces not open to the public.

If you look at the images contrasting the North American and European cities, you can notice one major difference: in the European cases, there is a very clear break between public and private realm, the public realm is the street and sidewalk, owned and administrated by the city, and just outside it, walls, either the façade of the buildings or walls built at the limit of the property to make the front yard more part of the private realm than of the public realm.
In much of Europe, the public realm is often mostly limited to the street and sidewalk, with walls clearly marking a break between the publicly-owned public realm and the private realm
In North America, the openness of housing design and the presence of unfenced/clearly visible front yards introduces an entirely other part of the public realm: privately owned land that is nevertheless designed to complement the public realm, to serve as a public display of the owner's personality. This means that shaping the public realm is not just the duty of the public authority through the city, but also of the community, of the individual residents who take care of their front yards, porches and other publicly visible elements of their dwelling.

North American areas add an intermediate buffer between the public realm and the private realm, that can be called a communal realm, made up of privately-owned land and house front that is nevertheless put to public display
This specific communal space in the public realm in North American societies can have a strong impact on community life and on the manifestations of cultural events. Indeed, without that space allowing a public showcase of each household, it is hard to imagine Halloween and Christmas proceeding as they do currently, with decorations that reshape the public realm temporarily for the duration of these holidays, all without involving the city.

People in urbanist circles sometimes look down upon front yards as meaningless space wasters, reducing density while not providing a larger private area like a back yard. But I think that this front setback does serve a purpose, even more than merely providing a buffer to protect residents' privacy, and that it defines a certain North American way of life to which many people are emotionally attached. I'm not saying this particular way of life is really superior, it has its good points (fostering a certain community spirit and involving people into contributing to shape the public realm) but also its drawbacks (inciting people to consider other resident's front yards as being semi-public, legitimating by-laws to control what one may or may not do with it or inciting them to build social pressure to conform to certain standards).

But if we want to get people to accept a drive for more walkable, urban areas, I think we have to account for this preference and try to conceive of ways to reconcile higher densities with this approach to communal construction of the public realm through front yards and setbacks. That is not necessarily impossible to achieve, traditional American cities, even today, frequently have residential densities of 50 to 100 people per hectare (20 to 40 per acre) with single-family homes and duplexes, and Montréal has some neighborhoods where residential blocks have densities of 150 to 200 people per hectare (60 to 80 per acre) while still having small front yards and balconies for units above ground.

By providing a private space on display with a private entry point, the exterior staircases and balconies of traditional Québec multiplexes allows residents to participate in North American celebrations like Halloween, as the resident of the upper unit of this duplex demonstrates (though at the time these were built, Halloween was not celebrated in Québec)

Another example of an upper unit resident decorating for Halloween and allowing kids to trick-or-treat there

On this commercial street in Verdun, commercial buildings have no setbacks, but residential buildings have small setbacks, plus the famous exterior stairs and balconies
In Reading, Pennsylvania, private porches on townhouses provide a small public display area for residents, achieving a density of 150 people per hectare (60 per acre)