In Order Without Design: How Markets Shape Cities, urban planner Alain Bertaud applies the lens of urban economics to dissect how large cities function—and how they should be planned. His central thesis is simple but powerful: cities derive their economic advantage from the ability to match a wide pool of employers and workers efficiently. But for that to happen, urban planning must prioritise affordability and mobility above all.
Affordability, in Bertaud’s terms, means workers can access urban job markets without facing prohibitive housing costs.
Mobility ensures that workers can commute to these jobs within a reasonable time frame and cost.
From these principles, Bertaud arrives at a controversial yet consistent position: government regulation—particularly in housing and land use—should be minimal. He argues that restrictive zoning, mandatory lot sizes, and excessive building codes only serve to inflate costs. As an example, he critiques rules that compel developers to use more land than market demand would require, driving up housing prices and exacerbating inequality (p. 303). He acknowledges that minimum standards were historically intended to improve urban living conditions, but contends that modern housing already far surpasses these baselines in comfort and safety, rendering many regulations obsolete.
One of his key targets is building height restrictions. In cities like Paris, historic preservation laws strictly cap building heights, limiting the housing supply and driving up prices. Bertaud compares the price per square metre of a studio apartment in Paris to that in downtown Chicago, noting it is up to nine times higher. While proponents argue such limits preserve sunlight and aesthetics, Bertaud responds that today’s residents benefit from ample electricity and heating—making outdoor light a less critical factor.
What about government-subsidised housing as an alternative to deregulation? Bertaud is sceptical. Public housing schemes are expensive and often limited in scale. In New York City, for instance, the waiting list for housing vouchers vastly outpaces availability. Even inclusionary zoning programmes benefit only a small subset of the population. Worse, public housing can trap low-income families in locations selected by government—not the market—thus limiting choice and opportunity. Bertaud concedes there will always be a role for public housing for the truly impoverished, but believes a more deregulated housing market would reduce the number of people who fall into that category in the first place.
One of Bertaud’s more controversial positions is his opposition to anti-sprawl policies. He argues that urban expansion extends the boundary of mobility and that governments should invest in infrastructure for these peripheral zones. He does not see sprawl as inherently negative, especially when it improves affordability. Importantly, Bertaud breaks from libertarian dogma by supporting robust public investment—particularly in roads and public transport—because efficient commuting is a prerequisite for a functioning labour market.
Interestingly, he also departs from many urban theorists in two key ways:
- The Internet Has Not Killed Geography: Despite the rise of digital communication, proximity still matters. If distance had truly become irrelevant, cities like New York would have seen real estate values decline. Instead, central urban areas remain premium assets, suggesting that face-to-face interaction still drives value creation (p. 152).
- Congestion as a Sign of Success: Bertaud provocatively suggests that high congestion, particularly in public transit, is a sign of a thriving urban economy—not necessarily a failure of planning.
But while Bertaud critiques regulation, he also identifies how existing market distortions encourage sprawl. For example, road usage in North American cities is often free, creating a hidden subsidy for car commuters (p. 100). Similarly, drivers typically don’t bear the full costs of pollution, congestion, or emissions (p. 159). To correct these distortions, Bertaud advocates for congestion pricing, higher parking fees, and measurable targets for emissions in lieu of hard-to-enforce carbon pricing mechanisms (p. 217).
Still, his optimism about deregulation may be overstated. As I reflect on his arguments, I question whether the political will exists to implement many of his proposed pricing mechanisms. Once voters become reliant on suburban commutes—and once powerful automobile and fossil fuel interests are invested in preserving this status quo—raising the cost of car usage becomes politically fraught. Bertaud’s ideas may be economically sound, but their implementation could face significant resistance.
In conclusion, Order Without Design offers a compelling challenge to top-down planning orthodoxy. It repositions the urban planner not as a master designer, but as a steward of market functionality—ensuring that mobility and affordability enable labour markets to flourish. However, achieving this vision will require more than economic models; it demands navigating the complex political realities of today’s fragmented urban governance.
Leave a Reply