Wednesday, November 27, 2013

SimCity wants to be the killer app of the classroom

We've had educational computer games almost since the dawn of the computer age itself. Math Blaster, Oregon Trail, the Incredible Machine. Many of these, particularly the older ones, were built to do one or a few things really well — teach multiplication, say, or physics, or to give a history lesson.
But the future of classroom games has a much more ambitious vision. SimCity, the venerable urban planning simulator, is positioning itself as a Swiss Army knife for teachers. Not only does it aim to convey basic skills such as arithmetic, but an understanding of complex systems such as the economy, the environment and the relationships that tie them together. It's a new supplement for schools that tries to be more comprehensive in scope and more conscious of the challenges our children will someday face.
Jessica Lindl oversees Glasslab — a five-member partnership of academic entities and gaming companies, including the Educational Testing Service and Electronic Arts, SimCity's publisher. For the past two weeks, Lindl has been encouraging schools to start using SimCityEDU, a specially tailored edition of the new SimCity for the classroom setting. It's not quite the same as the full SimCity experience; players don't have as much freedom to launch disasters or plop civic memorials. But that's because Lindl wants to make SimCityEDU a way to convey concepts that don't lend themselves well to boring old textbooks.
"We're really excited about the application of skills, rather than rote learning or memorization of content," Lindl said. "Twenty-first century success isn't based on what you know — it's based on what you learn, and how you acquire and apply those skills."
When I was growing up, SimCity 2000 was the state-of-the-art urban planning game. For the first time, you could set different tax rates for residential, commercial and industrial zones. You could build train tracks and hydroelectric dams. But one thing it didn't do very well was show you your residents' relationship to the place they lived. The whole city functioned (or in my case, malfunctioned) like a machine rather than a living organism. There's a reason for that: All of the SimCity games to date were little more than a static Excel spreadsheet whose values changed depending on your inputs. By playing the game you could begin to perceive how all the hidden formulas worked, but for a middle schooler, getting the full grasp was difficult.
What makes the newest entrant in the SimCity franchise so exciting is that it abandons the algorithms that previously managed all the systems behind the scenes for you. Instead, what happens to your city is a visible function of the Sims you see walking around — each of whom has her own individual needs and interests. Add them all up, and you get these flows of real people that create real traffic jams and real sewage problems. For children, that's a much more intuitive way of understanding how city systems are interconnected, and it's why educators are now turning to SimCity as a teaching tool.
What began as an alpha trial distributed to several hundred students earlier this year has now roped in "thousands" of pupils, though Lindl wouldn't give concrete adoption numbers. More interesting than how many students are using the technology, however, is who they are. One school in Oakland, Calif. is filled with non-native English speakers. While SimCityEDU is nominally geared toward teaching students about pollution, these young English-learners used the game to master their academic vocabulary. The game has also spread among teachers of other subjects, including history, social science, mathematics and the physical sciences. The ad-hoc uptake has convinced Lindl to start building future missions into the game that formally focus on those.
SimCityEDU strikes a balance between guiding players to their objectives and giving them the freedom to experiment. In a demo I played, I needed to plop enough bus stops around town to get at least 200 students into school. I wasn't allowed to build much else besides educational infrastructure — the menus that would ordinarily lead to construction options like parks and fire stations were empty, gone. But in addition to the bus stations, I discovered that opening up the school itself still granted the choice of adding another bus to the motor pool. More buses meant the bus stops would be serviced more frequently.
The 200 number was just an initial target to complete the mission. To the side of the screen was a little meter that filled up as I funneled more students into the school. When I hit my goal and "won," I had still only filled about half the meter. The completionist in me couldn't walk away from the mission until that bar was spilling over and dousing the whole town. The game was urging me to improve my game. For students, that subtle encouragement can be a valuable thing.
Teachers might object to classroom video games on the grounds that they rot kids' brains. But as gaming goes mainstream more generally, teachers are likelier these days to be gamers themselves, and can grasp the appeal of making school fun. And SimCityEDU isn't just for children. Its back-end dashboard is meant to give educators access to incredibly rich data on their students' performance. The software is capable of tracking not only what the kids click on, but also which in-game tools they hover their mouse over, the different data-analysis maps they open up, what they build, what they blow up, and on and on.
"If you think about teaching from a textbook," said Lindl, "you only have about 100 different data points [from a paper-based test] on how a student is learning. When you look at SimCity, there's over 3,000 data points we're gathering."
From this, educators can more finely identify their students' learning styles. In a scenario about cutting urban pollution, Lindl noticed some students jumping right in and tinkering with the different tools the game gave them. Others held back, reading all the information about each tool before planning their approach. That information could be used to better tailor a course to a student's needs.
Lindl also learned which pupils were becoming proficient in multidimensional thinking. Those who failed to understand pollution's mutual connection to both industry and the environment simply wound up bulldozing the offending power plants, which certainly solved the pollution problem but threw the economy into a tailspin as jobs were lost and workers moved out.
On top of the critical thinking and other academic skills we associate with schooling, SimCityEDU may hold unexplored benefits for emotional development.
"Students are just blown away by the engagement," Lindl said. "It's as engaging as stuff they do outside the classroom. They get really emotionally connected to the citizens and their city — they feel like they're being treated like adults because they have this opportunity to manage and save. It's a responsibility they don't traditionally get in the classroom."
The feeling you get when you've mastered something is hard to quantify. But as even most adults might agree, it's worth a ton. It's a feeling I never quite got playing the oldSimCity.

Monday, November 25, 2013

The Fool Proof City

America is full of brilliant people, many of them devoted to improving our cities and the lives of those that live in them. The most brilliant innovations in building cities, however, won't come from the current generation of politicians, professionals and advocates. That brilliance is already embodied in the traditional development pattern, a fool proof approach to building places that was developed the hard way: slowly and incrementally over time. If we want build strong towns, we should once again embrace that hard won wisdom.
This Friday we invite you to participate in the #BlackFridayParking Twitter event. We have all heard how our massive parking lots are sized for "the day after Thanksgiving." We want to show just how ridiculous that is. We invite Strong Towns advocates from all over the country to take pictures of parking lots this Friday and then post them to Twitter with the hashtag #BlackFridayParking. We'll collect those and share them in a format that everyone advocating against ridiculous parking standards can use. More specifics to come on Wednesday so stay tuned.
After working for five years as an engineer, I returned to graduate school to get a master's degree in urban and regional planning. My inspiration -- particularly as I was prompted to start my own planning company during my first months there -- was to get out in front of the bad engineering projects I had done up to that point. If we only did a better job of planning (or so I thought) then we wouldn't need to do these heroic and expensive engineering fixes.
After working about the same amount of time as a professional planner as I had a professional engineer, I started to have serious doubts about the ability of better planning to solve anything. I had recruited and trained a firm of very intelligent and skilled planners yet we were besieged by all the same shortcomings I had seen others struggle with. In the end, we were just as incapable of doing things any better even though doing things better was the central mission and obsessive focus of our organization.
In the dark nights I lay awake pondering what to make of it all, I found myself echoing things I had heard my parents say. They were teachers -- good people -- and when they (and to be fair, their colleagues, whom I also was around a lot while growing up) were frustrated with how things we going, their laments were predictable. It was parents' fault for not having their kids ready to learn. It was administrators' fault for putting so many obstacles in their way. It was the states' fault for cutting their funding or voters' for not approving that referendum. If only these other things would go the right way, they could do their job successfully.
Like them, I was doing everything I could with all the best intentions, but I was not getting the results our cities needed. We'd put together that awesome plan and then it wouldn't get implemented (blame the incompetent people at city hall). We'd set up the perfect zoning code and the first application in the door would challenge its underlying principle and the city council would give out a variance (blame the politicians). We'd work on a new development and get it all approved and then it would sit empty for a decade (and still counting) while the city plowed snow off the road so the realtors could show the lots (blame the market or the developer).
Worse yet, when things did work out, we credited our own genius for the success. We aren't alone. Go to any American Planning Association conference and you'll experience a lineup of stunning success stories. Session after session tout success after success, sterilizing any unsavory details to create a narrative that is proactive and affirming, as if the unique brilliance of the firm or planner presenting will create outcomes elusive to the rest of us. If only we were all so gifted or could just follow their approach.
Here's the important question: Was our success a byproduct of our genius or simply dumb luck? In other words, if we subsidize a hundred businesses, build a hundred business parks, install a hundred miles of pipe, will we not have a success story or two we can point to, one where all the random variables lined up in our favor? One where the voters and the staff and the politicians and the market all randomly came together to birth a victory?
Is that really success? In reality, isn't it more like holding up the Powerball winner as a model of how to do things just because they claim to have a scientific system? (Note that one man's superstition is another man's scientific approach.)
These are thoughts that turned me towards what eventually became Strong Towns. I could accept the fact that my failures were the byproduct of bad luck; things that were outside of my control. Could I also accept the fact that my successes were quite likely a byproduct of random fortune as well? And if so, what does that really mean in terms of what I should be doing or can actually hope to accomplish?
Those are not very comforting questions. As planners or engineers, as politicians or advocates, we want to believe there is a certain amount of control we can exercise, that our efforts and dedication constitute the determining factor in our success or failure. The entireyou need to spend money to make money meme set me off earlier this year (and continues to make my blood boil) because of the sheer arrogance of the notion. I'm a brilliant professional who knows best so I'm going to spend your money and, if it doesn't work out, I'm just going to blame the failure on your inadequacy or some other factor outside of my control. After all, you need to spend money to make money, sucker, and I did my part.
What would a different approach look like, one that didn't rely so much on either sheer genius (real or imagined) or on dumb luck? It just so happens that the traditional development pattern is such an approach and, as you will see, it has the breathtaking genius always found in a natural ecosystem that has evolved over thousands and thousands of years.
For millennia, around the world, in different cultures, different continents and different climates, we built places scaled to people. It has only been the last 60+ years that we in North America gradually stopped walking and started driving. For thousands of years prior, we walked everywhere, and so our places were built around people who walked. While there were many variations on the theme, the spacing, scale and proportions of these places were very similar to one another.
They key insight here is that the knowledge for how to build this way -- those fundamental underpinnings of spacing, scale and proportion -- does not descend from a theory or a brilliant individual but from a collection of natural experiments that occurred over and over again for thousands of years. In other words, people suffered and even died trying different things, figuring out how to build places that would endure. The places that endured long enough to be copied were the ultimate strong towns. They were resilient politically, socially, culturally and financially.
It is that last point I want to demonstrate today. The financial strength of the traditional development pattern is still visible today because the remnants of places built in that style still exist in many of our cities. Joe Minicozzi, one of today's most brilliant communicators, has taken data from all over the country and created amazing maps that show the financial productivity of different development patterns. He and I did some work in North Carolina earlier this year where he presented this map of High Point. The map shows financial productivity -- total value per acre -- of each parcel in the city with the height of the line representing the comparative productivity.
You'll never guess where the traditional downtown is at. (Hint: the purple in the middle.)
The thing that is most stunning about this is how dramatically more productive the traditional development pattern is. It is not just marginally more productive, it is many, many multiples more valuable than everything else on the map.
Let's look a little deeper. Some of that low productivity stuff on the edge of town includes the new, marquee investments in this area. For example, here is the value of the Big K and the Wal-Mart, both new facilities that represent large investments made in the auto-oriented style. You can picture the planners, engineers, economic developers, politicians and everyone else involved in making these happen touting them as sound investments. Jobs, growth and opportunity.
Here's one of those high-yielding properties in the traditional development pattern: Jimmy's pizza. Jimmy's pizza is likely nobody's idea of success and probably is never held up as a model for High Point (until Joe came to town, that is), yet the numbers don't lie. It is vastly more productive than the K-Mart or the Wal-Mart. Vastly more productive.

Jimmy's pizza represents the base unit of development in the traditional development pattern. It is the cheap little box that was the first increment of investment for cities everywhere. It is so simple to build that you literally couldn't mess it up. And look at how productive it is.
You take 14-acres and build a Big K, you'll have a site worth $5.4 million. You take 14-acres and build in the most basic increment of the traditional development pattern, an approach embodied in Jimmy's pizza, and that same area is worth $48.3 million.
It is so simple you can't screw it up.
Of course, I could pile on here. How do you expand and improve a Big K? You don't, but there are thousands of ways to improve Jimmy's pizza (few that require professional "expertise" or even more than a moderate level of competence). If your Big K fails, we can blame whoever we want, but we still have an economic disaster. If Jimmy's pizza fails, well....that building can be transformed into about anything. Give it some time and a surrounding neighborhood full of people on foot and that invisible hand will figure it out (if our antiquated zoning codes don't prevent it).
The traditional approach is, in a sense, fool proof.
America is full of brilliant people, many of them devoted to improving our cities and the lives of those that live in them. The most brilliant innovations in building cities, however, won't come from the current generation of politicians, professionals and advocates. That brilliance is already embodied in the traditional development pattern, a fool proof approach to building places that was developed the hard way: slowly and incrementally over time. If we want build strong towns, we should once again embrace that hard won wisdom.

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Pop-Up Planning: New Methods for Transforming the Public Process

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Calling all urban planners and designers of the public realm! It’s time to turn the traditional planning process on its head! Are you looking to push the envelope beyond the traditional community workshop with its rows of chairs facing the front, unimaginative PowerPoint presentations at the lectern, and weary audiences dissatisfied with the process? Want to liven up the planning process? Well pop a ‘Pop-Up’ into it and see what happens.
The City of Santa Monica and Melendrez - Los Angeles-based urban designers – along with help fromCommunity Arts Resources, brought the idea of pilot and pop-up, tactical urbanism into the planning process, with a festival/workshop/installation called Pop-Up MANGo, the first event of its kind in the region. Pop-Up MANGo gave citizens an opportunity to see and evaluate public realm improvements during the planning process, hands-on. Pop-Up MANGo – named after the Michigan Avenue Neighborhood Greenway- showcased temporary installations of possible improvements for a new Greenway corridor such as: traffic calming devices, traffic circles, chicanes, curb extensions, enhanced landscaping, mini-parks, and places for neighbors to gather.
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The 21st Century has been marked by a trend of temporary and DIY urbanism, “popping-up” in cities around the US, from New York’s temporary removal of cars in Times Square, to parklets and plazas carved from residual space in the streets of San Francisco and Los Angeles. Urban dwellers are increasingly carving out, demanding, and being drawn to these neat and quirky creative spaces, in a bottom-up approach to urban transformation. And with NACTO’s recent release of their great Urban Street Design Guide, which includes guidelines for handfuls of these sorts of improvements, it looks like these trends will increasingly be codified, embraced, and standardized over the coming years.
PopUP MANGo translated this idea of immediate, fun, temporary, and quirky pop-ups into the planning process itself, with demonstrations of potential improvements. The PopUp MANGo event was light hearted and community-oriented with local musicians, food trucks, booths with local organizations, arts activities for children, and a ‘passport’ program that guided people through the installations and gauged feedback. There were over 400 people in attendance and the feedback gathered is now helping the planning team craft a locally-rooted and locally-vetted design for the potential new Greenway through the City.
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Do-It-Yourself
There likely will be more and more of these pop-up planning sessions, ‘popping up’ around the nation… Want to do something like this in your own community? Pop-Up MANGo’s toolbox consisted of mostly donated items:
  • Straw wattle to demarcate the edges of the installations
  • Plants and trees to fill them in
  • Giant flower stencils painted with colorful (and temporary) spray chalk
  • Traffic signage for safety
Think local: Pinpoint things that are unique to the neighborhood to make the event distinctive and place-specific. Santa Monica is a creative city that values art and community collaboration; the design team used big artistic stencils and the help of community volunteers to give the event a creative and community vibe. The team also reached out beforehand to many local organizations to vet designs and event strategies. Santa Monica Police Department, Santa Monica Spoke, Santa Monica Walks, and Meals on Wheels West were all present. A kids’ art workshop making bike reflectors was held as part of the event, in collaboration with the Santa Monica Museum of Art. The event itself took place in the street right on the alignment so that people who lived along it could easily participate.
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Think fun: The days of humdrum planning processes should be a thing of the past. Think about what can transform your standard public workshop into a real event for the community; an Experience with a capital ‘E.’ Local performers, special cuisine, etc. Know someone who can install a temporary piece of art that’s interactive? Have a friend in the community who is a one-man band? Get them there! Having free food as an incentive worked at Pop-Up MANGo, where grant funding allowed budget for lunch vouchers for participants who visited all six stations.
Think stats: The beauty of ‘PopUp Planning’ is that you can get a ton of people to participate in the planning process and it can be a lot more rewarding than traditional processes since participants can see and feel improvements first hand. Be prepared to gather information in a thoughtful way so that you can use it to build momentum and make decisions in the planning process. At Pop-Up MANGo participants filled out questionnaire comment cards which allowed the team to rank community priorities quantitatively. Don’t forget to follow up afterwards with participants and community members to showcase how the planning process directly impacted design and planning decisions.
The streets come alive!
Want more information? Contact Jason Kligier or Amber Hawkes
Amber Hawkes is an urban designer at Melendrez in Los Angeles and part of the faculty at the UCLA Luskin School of Public Affairs Urban Planning Department.