The Cardboard Castles of the Exurbs: When Housing Becomes Just Another Commodity (And Loses All Meaning)

Defining the Commodity and Exurban Uniformity

What is a commodity? The textbook definition goes something like this: “A product is a commodity when all units of production are identical, regardless of who produces them.” Think oil, wheat, gold… interchangeable, fungible, indistinguishable. Now, apply that definition to… housing. Sounds absurd, right? Houses are supposed to be homes, unique reflections of individual needs, tastes, and lives. But consider the exurbs, those sprawling fringes of American cities, mile after mile of… sameness. House after house, practically carbon copies of each other. Identical designs, often chosen from a limited catalog of pre-approved models. Identical lot sizes, meticulously subdivided to ensure maximum… uniformity. Even the street layouts are often interchangeable, looping cul-de-sacs and grid-like patterns designed for maximum… efficiency of identical house placement. They even share the same genericized outlet onto the nearest highway, the umbilical cord connecting this manufactured homogeneity to the wider world. Every effort, in exurban development, seems deliberately engineered to commodify housing, to strip away any semblance of uniqueness, to create units that are as interchangeable and predictable as… well, commodities. But is housing really just a commodity? Should it be treated as such? And what happens to the very idea of home, of place, of value, when we churn out “houses” like widgets on a suburban assembly line?

"Thanks, Bill!" - How the Booming 90s Spoiled Me (and Maybe Ruined Us All?)

By Bob McNeely, January 13, 1994 - Courtesy of the White House - https://www.archives.gov/exhibits/picturing_the_century/century/century_img99.html, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=294802

Ah, the 1990s. Scrunchies, dial-up internet, and… jobs. Everywhere. For those of us who came of age in the Clintonian decade, the job market felt less like a competition and more like a… candy store. Walk in with a high school diploma (no skills required!), and employers would practically beg you to join their ranks, showering you with near-double-minimum-wage riches and promises of… well, mostly just not being yelled at too much (by 90s standards, that was a perk). I’m only slightly exaggerating. Jobs were plentiful, employers were desperate, and if you even thought about quitting one gig for something slightly shinier, your current boss would practically weep and offer you a raise on the spot. It was… spoiling, pure and simple. And I, like a naïve, denim-clad economic ingénue, fell for it hook, line, and oversized flannel shirt. I genuinely thought that’s just how the job market was. Normal. Forever. Boy, was I in for a rude awakening. And for that, for setting me up for a lifetime of economic disillusionment, for giving me false hope and then cruelly snatching it away… Thanks, Bill! (Yes, I’m being facetious… mostly. But stay with me here).

The Clinton Boom - Good for the Nation, Bad for My Expectations?

Okay, before the Clinton fan club comes for me with pitchforks and fanny packs, let’s be fair. Objectively speaking, Bill Clinton presided over a booming economy. The numbers don’t lie: strong economic growth, record job creation, the holy grail of a federal budget surplus (remember those?), and a national debt that actually shrank relative to GDP. He even managed to raise taxes on the wealthy while simultaneously unleashing economic prosperity – a feat that now feels like ancient economic sorcery. And yes, there were complexities, contradictions, and less-than-rosy aspects to the Clinton years. NAFTA’s impact on American manufacturing is still debated. Wealth inequality, while perhaps addressed slightly at the top, continued its inexorable climb. Unionization rates took a nosedive. And socially… well, let’s just say DOMA hasn’t aged particularly well. It wasn't a perfect era, by any stretch. But for a young person entering the workforce in the mid-90s, the feeling of economic possibility was palpable, intoxicating, and, in my case, profoundly… misleading. I got spoiled, utterly and completely. I developed a deeply ingrained, and wildly inaccurate, expectation that the job market would always be… easy. That employers would always be… eager. That economic opportunity would always be… abundant. And that, my friends, is a curse that has haunted my entire working life.

The Post-90s Hangover - Reality Bites (and Job Markets Get Crushing)

Then, of course, reality hit. Hard. The Clinton years faded into sepia-toned economic nostalgia, and the job market of the 21st century… well, let’s just say it’s been a tad less… “user-friendly.” Suddenly, that candy store turned into a grim, Dickensian soup kitchen line, with a million other, equally disillusioned souls vying for a vanishingly small bowl of gruel labeled “entry-level position, must have 5 years experience, unpaid internship preferred.” Competition became the defining feature of the job market, not opportunity. Employers, no longer desperate, suddenly held all the cards, and they weren’t shy about playing them, often with a distinctly Dickensian flair. “Work off the clock? Be grateful you have a clock to punch, you ungrateful whelp!” Unfair employment practices became normalized, “hustle culture” replaced “work-life balance,” and the minimum wage, once a laughable starting point, became, for far too many, a depressing ceiling. Economic growth, when it did occur, felt… strangely… unevenly distributed, trickling up, not down, leaving millions feeling increasingly anxious, insecure, and economically precarious. The easy-peasy, pick-and-choose job market of my 90s youth became a distant, almost mythical memory, a golden age of economic… well, let’s call it “spoiling,” that left me, and perhaps an entire generation, utterly unprepared for the economic Hunger Games that followed.

Urban Implications - Boom and Bust, and the Working Class City

So, what does my personal economic “spoiling” have to do with urban planning? More than you might think. Economic conditions and urban fortunes are inextricably linked. The booming 90s fueled a wave of urban revitalization in many American cities. Investment poured in, new businesses sprouted, development boomed (sometimes… problematically, hello gentrification). There was a sense of urban optimism, growth, and opportunity. But economic busts, downturns, and periods of sluggish growth inevitably strain urban economies. Inequality widens, social services are stretched thin, housing affordability becomes even more acute, and the very fabric of urban communities can fray under economic pressure. And who bears the brunt of these economic shifts? Often, it’s working-class urban residents, those most vulnerable to economic volatility, those least equipped to weather economic storms. In boom times, they might see some benefits, some trickle-down prosperity, perhaps a few more job opportunities (even if those jobs are increasingly precarious and low-wage). But in bust times, they are disproportionately impacted by job losses, housing insecurity, and cuts to social safety nets. Urban planning, therefore, cannot be divorced from economic realities. Smart urban policy must consider the cyclical nature of economies, the inevitable booms and busts, and strive to create urban environments that are more resilient, more adaptable, and more equitable across different economic climates. We need to build cities that provide pathways to opportunity not just in boom times, but also offer safety nets and support systems during economic downturns, especially for working-class communities.

Beyond Nostalgia - Urban Policies for a Less "Spoiled," More Equitable Future

The economic “spoiling” of the 1990s might be a fond (and slightly bitter) personal memory, but it holds a larger lesson for urban planners and policymakers: economic conditions are not static, and they profoundly shape urban life. The boom times can be seductive, masking deeper inequalities and creating unsustainable expectations. But the busts are inevitable, and when they hit, they hit our cities, and especially our working-class communities, the hardest. We need to learn from this economic rollercoaster and build cities that are less dependent on fleeting booms and more focused on long-term, equitable prosperity for all residents, regardless of the economic cycle. Let’s not chase another unsustainable “boom” that leaves too many behind. Let’s instead focus on building urban economies that are more resilient, more just, and more broadly shared, creating cities that offer genuine opportunity and security, not just fleeting moments of boom-time “spoiling.” Maybe then, future generations won't look back on our era with the same bewildered disillusionment I feel looking back at the 90s, wondering where all the economic candy went, and why the real world turned out to be so much… less sweet. The 90s economic candy store might be gone, but we can still build cities that offer real economic opportunity and security for all, not just fleeting moments of boom-time “spoiling.” Let's demand urban policies that prioritize economic equity, resilience, and a more just distribution of prosperity, across economic cycles, and across all communities within our cities. For a less “spoiled,” but far more equitable, urban future.

The "Problem of the Homeless" – Or, How We Learned to Hate the Poor (and Ignore the Obvious Solution)

By Leung Mi 2021 - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=113937230

Framing Homelessness as a Housing Problem, Not a People Problem

Let’s start with a crucial correction. It’s not “the problem of the homeless.” It’s homelessness. The problem isn’t people; it’s the condition of being without a home. It’s a semantic point, perhaps, but a vital one. Because when we talk about “the problem of the homeless,” it subtly shifts the blame, the focus, the… disgust, onto the individuals themselves, rather than on the societal failure that creates and perpetuates homelessness. So, let’s get it straight: the problem is homelessness. And the solution? Well, the word itself practically screams it at you: homes. It’s almost insultingly obvious, isn’t it? How to solve the problem of homelessness? Provide… homes! We’ve already talked, at length, about the broader housing crisis, the affordability crunch squeezing millions. But homelessness is a specific, particularly brutal manifestation of that crisis, and one that has been festering in America for decades, if not centuries. And in the wealthiest society that has ever existed, the spectacle of widespread homelessness is not just an irony, it’s a moral indictment. America, more than any nation in history, possesses the resources, the wealth, the sheer capacity to easily, demonstrably, end homelessness. We could build tenement housing, we could subsidize rents, we could unleash construction subsidies, we could build it ourselves, we could incentivize private industry – the toolbox of solutions is overflowing. And yet… we mostly stand by and… do what, exactly?

The Great American Zoning Rip-Off: How Land Use Laws Keep Housing Prices Sky-High (and Who Really Benefits)

The Housing Crisis and the Zoning Culprit

Housing. Just the word can induce a cold sweat in anyone under the age of 45 these days, especially if you live in… well, pretty much any American city with actual jobs. Sky-high rents, bidding wars for shoebox-sized apartments, the crushing realization that homeownership is now a generational fantasy for many. We’re in a full-blown housing crisis, folks. And while there are many contributing factors – stagnant wages, predatory investors, the rise of avocado toast consumption (kidding… mostly) – there’s one often-overlooked villain lurking in the shadows, silently pulling the strings of unaffordability: zoning laws. Yes, zoning. Sounds boring, right? Like something only beige-suit-wearing bureaucrats get excited about. But trust me, these seemingly innocuous land use restrictions are actually powerful levers shaping our cities, our economies, and our levels of societal inequality. And they’re a major reason why you’re probably staring down the barrel of another rent increase right now. Let’s pull back the curtain on the great American zoning rip-off and expose how these seemingly technical rules are keeping housing prices sky-high (and, crucially, who really benefits).

The Car as 'Freedom': But Not the Kind of Freedom You Were Thinking Of... (Spoiler: It's Debt)

The Automotive "Freedom" Pitch vs. Reality

“Freedom!” That’s the word they use, isn’t it? The siren song of the automobile. “The open road awaits! Feel the wind in your hair!” (assuming you can afford the convertible upgrade and also enjoy the sensation of small rocks pelting your face). “Nothing to hold you back!” Except, you know, car payments. And insurance premiums that can rival those car payments, especially if you’re unlucky enough to be young or, heaven forbid, male. And maintenance costs that mysteriously balloon right after the warranty expires, because of course they do. But after all that glorious financial preamble, then we’re ready for our freedom! Right? Vroom vroom! Let’s hit the… wait. Where are we going? And more importantly… where will we park? And how much will that little slice of asphalt nirvana cost us? And… did we remember where we parked? Because finding it later might require a minor archeological expedition. The automobile proposes to offer freedom, no doubt. But the more you think about it, the more you realize this “freedom” is a peculiar beast indeed, a strange and expensive liberation that seems to come with an awfully long list of… obligations.

The MPO Mystery: Who Really Runs Your Region? (And Should We Be Asking?)

The Invisible Hand of Regional Planning

Ever wondered who really shapes the future of your region? Who decides where the new highways go, where the transit lines might extend, how federal infrastructure dollars get spent across sprawling metropolitan areas? Chances are, you haven't heard of them. Meet the Metropolitan Planning Organization, or MPO. These somewhat obscure entities are responsible for regional-level planning in pretty much every major metropolitan area across the US. Think of them as the invisible hand guiding the development of entire regions, especially in areas where city boundaries blur and multiple municipalities sprawl across a shared economic and geographic space. MPOs are tasked with tackling regional challenges that transcend city or county lines – transportation, economic development, environmental planning – all the big-picture stuff that shapes our daily lives and the economic fortunes of our region. They wield enormous influence over the direction of regional growth, impacting everything from commute times to housing patterns to job access. But here’s the rub, the question that’s been nagging at me lately: who are these MPOs, really? And are they… democratically accountable to the people whose lives they so profoundly affect? Because, spoiler alert: the answer might be… complicated, and maybe even a little bit unsettling.

Bulldozing Paradise: Why Le Corbusier's Urban Dreams Became Our Urban Nightmares

By Limongi - originally uploaded to :en at en:File:Monumental axis.jpg, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5921507

The Specter of Plan Voisin and the Modernist Menace

Ah, Le Corbusier. Just the name conjures up images of… well, depending on your urban planning sensibilities, either gleaming white towers of modernist aspiration or soul-crushing concrete slabs of dystopian despair. Let’s be honest, for many of us in the “lived experience” trenches of modern cities, it’s often the latter. And to truly grasp the sheer, unadulterated audacity of Le Corbusier, one need only conjure up Plan Voisin: his little weekend project to, oh, you know, just bulldoze most of historic Paris and replace it with a grid of identical, gleaming skyscrapers set in… parks. Paris! Destroyed! Replaced with… that? Who was this joker? All joking aside (though, frankly, the temptation to relentlessly mock is strong), Le Corbusier was, undeniably, a hugely influential figure in 20th-century urban planning. He popularized the “tower in a park” concept, penned the urban planning manifesto “The Radiant City,” and left an architectural and planning legacy that, to put it mildly, is… complicated. While his intentions were, perhaps, noble (efficiency! hygiene! order!), the practical outcomes of his modernist vision have often been, well, urban planning nightmares. Let’s delve into why Le Corbusier’s “urban dreams” so often became our urban realities, and why, in many ways, we’re still grappling with the consequences.