Cuando se lanzó el primer programa comercial de bicicletas compartidas en 2008, la propuesta de valor era clara. La mayor circulación de bicicletas en las calles reduciría el uso de automóviles y las emisiones de carbono, proporcionaría a los residentes y turistas una forma de transporte flexible, y ofrecería un beneficio de salud pública como puntapié inicial.

Durante la década siguiente, las bicicletas compartidas se expandieron a lo largo de todo el país. No obstante, debido a que los programas de bicicletas compartidas suelen depender de fondos corporativos o están a cargo de empresas de micromovilidad con fines de lucro, rara vez se implementó el servicio en ciudades y barrios de bajos ingresos en los que el acceso a más opciones de transporte sería beneficioso. Hace poco, este conocido patrón se vio sacudido por la popularidad creciente de las bicicletas eléctricas (es decir, bicicletas equipadas con tecnología de baterías eléctricas que complementan o, en ocasiones, reemplazan a las bicicletas tradicionales a pedal), y por parte de las ciudades y los defensores del ciclismo que tergiversan el esquema habitual de bicicletas compartidas.

Durante los últimos años, se han lanzado o anunciado proyectos experimentales de uso compartido de bicicletas dirigidos a comunidades y residentes de bajos ingresos en ciudades como Denver, Oakland, Búfalo, Nueva York; Youngstown, Ohio; y Worcester, Massachusetts.

Las ventas de bicicletas eléctricas están en auge a nivel mundial, y la tecnología está demostrando que puede cambiar las reglas de juego. “Todas las bicicletas compartidas deberían ser eléctricas”, expresó John MacArthur, gerente del programa de transporte sostenible del Centro de Educación e Investigación para el Transporte (TREC, por su sigla en inglés) de la Universidad Estatal de Portland, que publicó un informe sobre la equidad de las bicicletas compartidas en el año 2020. “No tengo ninguna duda sobre esto”.

La razón clave, añadió MacArthur, es que está demostrado que las bicicletas eléctricas derriban antiguas barreras en relación con quiénes andan en bicicleta. Atraen a adultos mayores, personas con limitaciones físicas, personas que no andan en bicicleta desde su infancia y personas que jamás se identificaron con el deporte ni con la cultura del ciclismo. Con las bicicletas tradicionales, explica, “solo se llega a una cierta cantidad de personas”.

En ciudades como Portland y Nueva York, que construyeron flotas completamente eléctricas (o en su mayoría), los usuarios “andan más en bicicleta y con mayor frecuencia”, afirma MacArthur. TREC descubrió que mientras un viaje típico en bicicleta compartida tiene unos cinco kilómetros y medio, los viajes en bicicleta eléctrica suelen extenderse más de ocho kilómetros, y, a veces, casi el doble.

Esto puede tener un impacto espacial y económico, ya que tendría el potencial de expandir el acceso a barrios, empleos y servicios. “La equidad en el servicio de bicicletas compartidas” ya es un problema reconocido, y las organizaciones sin fines de lucro, así como los emprendedores locales, están involucrándose para satisfacer las necesidades de comunidades y áreas geográficas que, históricamente, han quedado desatendidas. Todas las iniciativas recientes tienen, al menos, el objetivo parcial de no solo expandir las opciones de transporte, sino también estimular la vitalidad de los barrios y la independencia que esta conlleva.

“El uso histórico del suelo, las bancas de crédito hipotecario y otras políticas conformaron un país con una geografía de oportunidades muy irregular”, afirma Jessie Grogan, directora adjunta de Menos pobreza y desigualdad espacial del Instituto Lincoln. “La correlación entre los activos del barrio y la segregación racial y étnica no fue casual, por lo que el proceso inverso tampoco lo será. Si bien debemos trabajar para que todos los barrios ofrezcan oportunidades, mientras tanto, las bicicletas eléctricas pueden ser un puente esencial entre los lugares con abundancia y escasez de oportunidades. Un viaje cómodo y barato o gratuito a otra comunidad para acceder a un buen trabajo o una buena escuela o una oportunidad recreativa podría ser un salvavidas para las personas de barrios desatendidos”.

Shared Mobility, una organización sin fines de lucro para el transporte equitativo con sede en Búfalo, Nueva York, es una de las entidades que intenta ayudar a los socios locales a subsanar las deficiencias. En 2020, la organización adquirió alrededor de 3.000 bicicletas eléctricas que Uber pensaba desechar tras la venta de su negocio de bicicletas compartidas de marca Jump. El grupo se asoció con el East Side Bike Club (ESBC) de la ciudad para usar algunas de las bicicletas e iniciar una biblioteca de bicicletas eléctricas en Búfalo. De esta forma, atendieron las necesidades de un área de bajos ingresos con población predominantemente negra. Las bibliotecas de bicicletas eléctricas ofrecen a los miembros de la comunidad alquileres de bicicletas sin costo y capacitaciones relacionadas con las bicicletas. Entre otros servicios de reparación de bicicletas y programas educativos, ESBC ahora permite el uso de las bicicletas eléctricas durante una semana sin costo alguno. Shared Mobility trabajó con socios de otras comunidades en Nueva York, California y Carolina del Norte para sembrar bibliotecas de bicicletas eléctricas en esos lugares.

Michael Galligano, director ejecutivo de Shared Mobility, comenta que el tipo de compromiso comunitario que ESBC y otros grupos tienen puede ayudarlos a conseguir subsidios y fondos para financiar estos programas. Pero, además, argumenta que las municipalidades deberían implementar programas de bicicletas y bicicletas eléctricas como una forma de transporte público, con la planificación y el financiamiento correspondientes. “¿Dónde termina el transporte público?”, pregunta. “Creemos que no se trata solo de autobuses y trenes. También se trata de andar en bicicleta, caminar, compartir autos y alquilar vehículos con conductor”.

Galligano menciona a la Autoridad de Transporte del Distrito Capital, que brinda servicios a Albany, Nueva York, y a los municipios aledaños, como un ejemplo de un colaborador de larga trayectoria de Shared Mobility que piensa de esta forma, y que, próximamente, financiará de forma parcial su propio programa de bicicletas eléctricas con presupuesto destinado al transporte público. Mientras tanto, en Massachusetts, el gobierno nacional prometió US$ 5 millones para financiar iniciativas que faciliten el acceso a opciones de transporte que utilizan energía limpia, como las bicicletas eléctricas, a poblaciones de bajos ingresos. Dicha propuesta permitirá que la ciudad de Worcester proporcione bicicletas eléctricas a 100 residentes como parte de un estudio de dos años destinado a obtener más información sobre el uso y los efectos de la tecnología.

Otra iniciativa de bicicletas eléctricas en una ciudad posindustrial se basa en un abordaje de financiamiento híbrido. Esta primavera, YoGoBikeshare hace su lanzamiento en Youngstown, Ohio, con cerca de 30 bicicletas distribuidas en cuatro estaciones base. Este negocio de propietarios negros, que se financió con una inversión de estos mismos y con un préstamo de la incubadora de empresas Youngstown Business Incubator, satisface una necesidad en una ciudad que otras empresas de micromovilidad han pasado por alto.

“El transporte en comunidades como Youngstown es un desafío particular, ya que décadas de deterioro económico y demográfico generaron ciudades muy grandes y extendidas en relación con el tamaño de la población”, destaca Grogan. “Además, las ciudades más pobres no suelen tener un buen servicio de transporte público, por lo que es particularmente importante invertir en opciones de movilidad en lugares como Youngstown”.

La comunidad filantrópica también se está involucrando con la expansión del acceso a las bicicletas eléctricas. MacArthur destaca el trabajo de Better Bike Share, fundada por la JPB Foundation, que tiene el objetivo explícito de aumentar el “acceso a sistemas de micromovilidad compartida y su uso en las comunidades de bajos ingresos y de personas negras, indígenas y de color (BIPOC, por su sigla en inglés)”. Su ciudad aliada de mayor reputación es Filadelfia: los esfuerzos realizados durante la última década para construir un sistema de bicicletas compartidas más inclusivo han sentado un precedente, comenta MacArthur, y las becas de Better Bike Share ya financiaron múltiples proyectos en todo el país.

No cabe duda de que todos estos experimentos son pequeños pasos progresivos, y no proyectos de transporte masivos para toda la ciudad ni reformas de infraestructura integrales. Pero el cambio gradual puede aportar su grano de arena. Al menos, el advenimiento de las bicicletas eléctricas como una herramienta para expandir el acceso a oportunidades económicas representa una posibilidad de atraer un mayor apoyo generalizado de la gente para las alternativas de transporte. Y combinar la tecnología con programas barriales que se multiplican como centros comunitarios, por ejemplo, el ESBC en Búfalo, podría ser una forma útil de reforzar dicho objetivo. Incluso si las personas llegan con fines recreativos o por mera curiosidad, dice MacArthur, dicha motivación puede ser la puerta de entrada para que consideren las bicicletas eléctricas como un medio de transporte útil, y puede ayudar a inspirar a los embajadores a expandir ese mensaje.

Por más de una década, la mayor parte de la atención que recibieron los programas de bicicletas compartidas se centró en reducir los kilómetros realizados por los vehículos y las emisiones de carbono, y en aumentar las ganancias. Sin embargo, una evolución parece estar en camino, ya que el acceso a las bicicletas se expande, las percepciones empiezan a cambiar, y los beneficios económicos, así como aquellos relacionados con la equidad de las bicicletas eléctricas, son cada vez más evidentes. El objetivo final del uso compartido de bicicletas, explica Galligano, es expandir el “repertorio de opciones de transporte”, y si esta tecnología innovadora está inspirando experimentos originales y llegando a públicos nuevos, mucho mejor: “No se trata de una solución universal”.

Rob Walker es periodista; escribe sobre diseño, tecnología y otros temas. Es el autor de The Art of Noticing. Publica un boletín en robwalker.substack.com.

Imagen: Shared Mobility, una organización sin fines de lucro para el transporte equitativo con sede en Búfalo, Nueva York, ayudó a varias comunidades a iniciar bibliotecas de bicicletas eléctricas, que brindan servicios gratuitos de alquiler y reparación, entre otros. Shane Paul y Tyler Madell, integrantes del equipo de Shared Mobility, a la derecha, se reúnen con integrantes de la organización sin fines de lucro Pacoima Beautiful, para ayudar a construir una biblioteca de bicicletas eléctricas en Pacoima, California. Crédito: Patrick Cray.

This article is part of a larger feature on how land use battles are hindering the clean energy transition.

A critical land use dimension of the clean energy transition is the mining of metals used for batteries for electric vehicles and general power storage, including lithium, cobalt, copper, nickel, niobium, and graphite. The World Bank estimates that over 3 billion tons of minerals and metals will be needed by 2050 to meet the clean energy storage and deployment goals in the 2015 Paris Agreement—a production increase of 500 percent.

With these minerals in such high demand, regions like Latin America, which controls two-thirds of the global supply of lithium, are under tremendous pressure to allow mining as a new source of economic development. But the mining process is dangerous, hugely disruptive to the environment, and often occurs within Indigenous territories.

The resource-rich countries where the minerals are, primarily in the Global South, are home to extensive biodiversity and uniquely vulnerable to the impacts of climate change, said Claudia Dobles Camargo, former First Lady of Costa Rica, where open-air mining is banned. “We cannot just transition from one type of energy to clean energy without taking into consideration that this could become a new extractivism,” she said. Honduras and El Salvador have also banned the practice.

Beyond the developing world, any move to extract these clean-power minerals seems to become instantaneously contentious. When a Maine couple discovered large lithium deposits on their property, they were surprised that neighbors didn’t celebrate the potential contribution to the clean energy transition—but rather demanded state regulators prevent any kind of mining operation at all.

Technology may come to the rescue, in the form of more sustainable lithium mining techniques involving microbes, seawater, and brine. Lithium can also be recycled from old batteries, a process dubbed “urban mining.” And researchers at MIT and elsewhere are working on new kinds of batteries, such as metal-air devices using aluminum, zinc, or iron, all of which are abundantly available, that would obviate the need for lithium altogether.

Another approach to minimize damage and land use conflicts: reduce demand for batteries for electric vehicles by driving less—a higher bar, to be sure, for societies just getting used to the concept of alternatives to fossil fuel.

A report by a team led by Providence College Professor Thea Riofrancos found that the United States “can achieve zero emissions transportation while limiting the amount of lithium mining necessary by reducing the car dependence of the transportation system, decreasing the size of electric vehicle batteries, and maximizing lithium recycling.”

“Reordering the US transportation system through policy and spending shifts to prioritize public and active transit while reducing car dependency,” the report says, “can also ensure transit equity, protect ecosystems, respect Indigenous rights, and meet the demands of global justice.”

Anthony Flint is a senior fellow at the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy, host of the Land Matters podcast, and a contributing editor of Land Lines.

Lead image: Silver Peak lithium mine, Nevada. Credit: simonkr via E+/Getty Images.

Over the past two years, the federal government has raced to turbocharge the transition from gas-powered vehicles to electric alternatives. The Biden administration wants EVs to make up half of new auto sales by 2030; last year’s Inflation Reduction Act juices that goal through a $7,500 individual tax credit for eligible EV buyers. But the electric vehicle transition isn’t just a consumer issue—it’s an infrastructure challenge.

After all, a nation of EV drivers will depend on lots of places to charge up—and that system simply doesn’t exist. While today’s EV owners do an estimated 70 to 80 percent of their vehicle charging at home, that won’t work for long-distance driving. So the Biden administration has declared a goal of 500,000 public EV chargers built out by 2030, along highways, around cities, and in rural areas, with the 2021 Bipartisan Infrastructure Law committing $5 billion to this nascent network.

But some experts say that if we come anywhere close to meeting the ambitious 2030 EV sales target, even that charging infrastructure won’t be enough: The number of chargers needed would be closer to 2 million. Moreover, long-haul freight trucking, a crucial transportation category, poses special challenges—with some fascinating potential solutions.

“Most people, when they think about vehicle electrification, think, how do we replace the gas stations with charging stations?,” says Tallis Blalack, managing director of the ASPIRE (Advancing Sustainability through Powered Infrastructure for Roadway Electrification) Engineering Research Center at Utah State University. But alternative, or supplementary, possibilities are emerging, including charging coils embedded into pavement at periodic intervals that recharge vehicles driving over them, in the manner of a phone sitting on a wireless charging pad—basically, electric roads.

Sometimes referred to as “inductive charging,” this technology has received less attention than the more traditional charging stations. But it’s being actively piloted in multiple places across the United States, including Salt Lake City, Orlando, and Detroit, in various locations in Sweden, and elsewhere in Europe.

“We believe that passenger vehicles are well over the tipping point—those are being electrified, and despite the challenges, it’s going to happen,” Blalack says. But the story isn’t so clear-cut when it comes to the trucks and heavy-duty vehicles that long-haul shipping relies on, and that may require a different way of thinking about EV infrastructure.

As Blalack points out, nearly half of US freight travels over 250 miles, most of it via truck, and medium- and heavy-duty trucks account for nearly a quarter of US transportation greenhouse-gas emissions. ASPIRE estimates that the cost of operating a diesel truck could nearly double using long-range batteries and the fast-charging station options currently available. That’s because long-range batteries for heavy-duty trucks are big, expensive, and heavy (cutting into payload space), and even fast charging—assuming it’s available—can entail costly delays. With an electric road that provides charging on the go, trucks could use smaller batteries that don’t have to hold as much of a charge, and the cost would actually shrink, perhaps to as low as half the current cost, according to ASPIRE.

The technology could be built out gradually, but advocates ultimately envision it being available across long sections of US highways. And it could charge properly equipped lighter trucks and passenger vehicles as well; drivers would decide whether to charge while in motion, paying via in-vehicle software or an app. In at least some cases, the process of fitting highways with charging coils could be paired with other needed upgrades and maintenance. The coils would be placed every few miles, with specifics depending on traffic patterns. The coil technology—the development of which dates to the 1990s, including work on wireless energy transfer at the University of Auckland, an ASPIRE partner—can also be used in static form; drivers essentially just park over it, requiring no charging post.

Clearly, any widespread buildout of electric roads would take years. But existing and pending pilot programs suggest incremental benefits and possibilities across different scenarios. ASPIRE, through its own Salt Lake City facilities and partnerships, is testing both freight logistics and electric transit programs. It’s also directly involved in several other pilot projects, including one from the Indiana Department of Transportation and Purdue University to develop what they bill as among the first working examples of a “contactless wireless-charging concrete pavement highway segment.” A separate effort involves a new stretch of roadway west of Orlando that will include an electrified section to demonstrate how the technology can be part of new construction rather than a retrofit.

Another example that has captured attention—in part because of its location in the heart of the American auto industry—involves a pair of electric roads in Detroit. The first, scheduled for completion this year, will electrify a quarter-mile stretch near Michigan Central Station; the second, projected for next year, is a three-quarter-mile strip near downtown. Both will facilitate experiments with a variety of electric vehicles. “This pilot project will enable us to identify [potential] use cases,” noted a Michigan Department of Transportation (MDot) spokesperson. “Some examples of use cases for wireless charging technology could be integrated into taxi and ride-sharing services, enabling vehicles to be charged while waiting for passengers, commercial vehicle queues at border crossings, static pad charging for transit and last-mile delivery stops, and in-motion charging for shuttle and transit routes.”

So far, the technology has largely been left out of the big federal funding initiatives that have boosted EV infrastructure spending. ASPIRE works with state and local governments as well as private industry; the Detroit project is funded by MDot and Israeli tech company Electreon, which has been involved in a number of EV infrastructure projects in the United States and Europe. “Interest in wireless charging is greater now than at any point since Electreon was established in 2013,” says Dr. Stefan Tongur, a vice president for the company. “Several countries in Europe have targets to electrify thousands of kilometers. . . . We are seeing interest and plans in other parts of the world too.” Sweden, as an example, has conducted a variety of pilot programs, recently announced it would deploy the technology on a 21-kilometer highway linking Stockholm and Gothenburg over the next two to three years, and may commit to up to 3,000 kilometers of electric roads by 2035.

In the next five or so years, such pilots may be extended into more ambitious experiments, Blalack says, gradually adding roadway segments based on freight traffic patterns. By 2040, one ASPIRE roadmap suggests, that could include interstate highways.

ASPIRE has partnerships with multiple educational institutions, labs, government entities, and nonprofits that are engaged in a range of energy technology projects. The idea isn’t so much to replace the charging station strategy; we’ll definitely need to build that infrastructure, too. But other options can help meet the EV challenge. As Blalack says, “Our charging solution has to be: all of the above.”

Rob Walker is a journalist covering design, technology, and other subjects. He is the author of The Art of Noticing. His newsletter is at robwalker.substack.com.

Lead Image: Wireless electric charging is in place on roads in Tel Aviv. Credit: Courtesy of Electreon.

Cuando pensamos en innovaciones en la urbanización y la construcción, la madera no suele ser lo primero que se nos viene a la mente. Para que no suene tan agresivo, es un material de la vieja escuela. Pero, en el último tiempo, la construcción con masa de madera (mass timber) (que consiste en paneles, vigas y columnas de madera fabricados con técnicas modernas y herramientas de diseño digital avanzadas) ha tenido un crecimiento destacado. Entre otros atributos, los defensores señalan su potencial con relación al impacto climático: al usar masa de madera extraída de forma sostenible, la huella de carbono se puede reducir a la mitad, en comparación con la de una estructura similar hecha con acero u hormigón.

Según el grupo de comercio de madera WoodWorks, hasta septiembre de 2022, se construyeron o diseñaron más de 1.500 proyectos multifamiliares, comerciales o institucionales con masa de madera en los 50 estados del país. Esto representa un aumento de más un 50 por ciento desde el 2020. El Wall Street Journal, en base a los datos del Servicio Forestal de los Estados Unidos, informa que desde el 2014, abrieron al menos 18 plantas de fabricación de masa de madera en Canadá y los Estados Unidos.

Los componentes básicos de la construcción con masa de madera son las placas, columnas y vigas de madera. Son mucho más sostenibles que, por ejemplo, los conocidos tablones de cinco centímetros por diez, gracias a procesos especiales que se utilizan para unir pedazos pequeños de madera y formar bloques de madera fabricados con precisión. El resultado final incluye columnas y vigas de madera laminada encolada (o “glulam”), y paneles de madera contralaminada (o CLT) que pueden tener hasta 3,5 metros de ancho y 18 metros de largo. Los paneles más largos se usan, principalmente, para pisos y techos, pero también para las paredes. El resultado final, como lo expresaron en la publicación en línea de Vox, es “madera, pero como bloques Lego”. Los proyectos de masa de madera más importantes suelen exhibir el material, por lo que se obtienen construcciones cuyos elementos estructurales ofrecen una estética más cálida y orgánica en comparación con aquellas de acero u hormigón.

Desde hace un tiempo, tanto el proceso como el interés en su potencial vienen cobrando fuerza. La masa de madera empezó a utilizarse en Austria y, luego, en toda Europa, en la década de 1990, y, desde entonces, su uso se ha extendido gradualmente al resto del mundo. En una charla TED muy citada del 2013, el arquitecto Michael Green, de Vancouver, dio sus argumentos a favor de este material: “Siento que la madera tiene una función que cumplir en las ciudades”, sostuvo resaltando las propiedades de captura de carbono de la masa de madera (una estructura de hormigón de 20 pisos emitiría más de 1.200 toneladas de carbono, mientras que una construcción de madera capturaría más de 3.000 toneladas). Además, destacó la capacidad que tiene este material de soportar terremotos e incendios.

Cuando Green dio su charla, las estructuras más altas de masa de madera tenían nueve o diez pisos. Sin embargo, Green argumentó que este nuevo proceso de fabricación podría utilizarse con éxito en estructuras con una altura dos o tres veces mayor. “Esta es la primera innovación en la manera de construir rascacielos que observamos en, probablemente, 100 años”, declaró, y explicó que el proceso de ingeniería no sería tan arduo como la tarea de cambiar la percepción general del potencial que tiene la madera. En el último tiempo, esta percepción se ha estado renovando gracias a un aluvión de proyectos atractivos (entre ellos, un complejo de 25 pisos de comercios minoristas y viviendas en Milwaukee, y un hotel y centro cultural de 20 pisos en el noreste de Suecia) y propuestas para edificios de masa de madera aún más altos.

Debido a que la masa de madera se prefabrica en una planta y se envía al lugar de la instalación (a diferencia de las estructuras de hormigón, que se hacen en el lugar), los detalles del diseño deben resolverse de antemano, lo que requiere una planificación y un trabajo de modelado digital exhaustivos. En definitiva, esto puede aumentar la eficiencia de los procesos de construcción, así como requerir menos trabajadores y generar menos desperdicio. Los proyectos de masa de madera siguen incluyendo otros materiales, señala Judith Sheine, una profesora de arquitectura de la Universidad de Oregón (UO) y directora de Diseño del TallWood Design Institute. TallWood es una colaboración entre la Escuela de Diseño de la UO y las Facultades de Silvicultura e Ingeniería de la Oregon State University que se centra en fomentar la innovación de la masa de madera. “Pero la masa de madera puede reemplazar al acero y el hormigón en muchísimos usos, y cada vez es más popular”, afirmó. “Esto se debe a la nueva disponibilidad, pero también a un interés en usar materiales que impliquen menos carbono”.

TallWood llevó a cabo decenas de proyectos e iniciativas de investigación aplicada, en los que se analizaron los más diversos aspectos, desde problemas de codificación hasta desafíos de la cadena de suministro y maneras de mejorar el rendimiento, con el fin de promover el uso de madera con propiedades y diseños superiores. El instituto forma parte de la Oregon Mass Timber Coalition, una asociación entre instituciones de investigación y agencias estatales de Oregón que, en el último tiempo, recibió US$ 41,4 millones en becas del plan Build Back Better Regional Challenge de la Administración de Desarrollo Económico de los Estados Unidos. Este financiamiento tiene como objetivo respaldar iniciativas de investigación vinculadas con el desarrollo del mercado para la masa de madera.

Sin duda, parte de la promesa medioambiental de este novedoso material depende de los detalles menos conocidos, en particular, cómo y dónde se extrae la madera. Los defensores del sector alegan que su expansión no causará una presión indebida en los bosques, en parte porque los productos de masa de madera pueden fabricarse con madera de “poco valor” (como árboles de diámetro pequeño que ya se sacrifican como parte de la mitigación de los incendios forestales, árboles enfermos y, posiblemente, incluso madera de descarte).

Los grupos conservacionistas y otros expertos están actuando con mayor cautela. En 2018, The Nature Conservancy inició una evaluación de varios años del impacto de la masa de madera a nivel global. Se investigaron los beneficios y riesgos potenciales de la mayor demanda de productos de masa de madera para los bosques, y se está desarrollando un conjunto de principios orientativos mundiales para una “economía de los bosques inteligente desde el punto de vista del clima”, buenas prácticas que ayudarán a proteger la biodiversidad y los ecosistemas a medida que el mercado de la masa de madera crece.

A menudo, los constructores y desarrolladores que, concretamente, desean pregonar el uso de materiales de masa de madera insisten en que la forma de obtención se certificó como sostenible, según Stephen Shaler, profesor de materiales y tecnologías sostenibles en la Facultad de Recursos Forestales de la Universidad de Maine. “En este momento, dicha demanda está en el mercado”, afirmó.

Además del interés en la sostenibilidad, existe otra razón a favor de la proliferación de los proyectos de masa de madera: la biofilia o instinto humano de conectar con la naturaleza. Sharler explicó que “el solo hecho de estar en una casa de madera puede generar una sensación agradable”. Este no es un simple juicio subjetivo: pequeños estudios demostraron que los interiores de madera pueden mejorar la calidad del aire, reducir la presión sanguínea y el ritmo cardíaco, y mejorar la concentración y la productividad.

Según se informó, los desarrolladores del edificio de 25 pisos en Milwaukee, Ascent, escogieron la masa de madera, sobre todo, por razones estéticas y por el valor de difusión de su aspecto distintivo. El edificio Ascent, una de las construcciones de masa de madera más altas del mundo, ha sido el centro de atención de los medios, y se le suma otro valor a la exposición pública: si bien es posible que el edificio Ascent, de 86,5 metros de altura, y otros proyectos de muchos pisos no presagien el futuro de todos los rascacielos, demostraron que es posible construir de manera segura y a gran escala con masa de madera. Esto podría persuadir a reguladores y planificadores, sobre todo, a la hora de aprobar construcciones de menor escala que podrían ser más importantes para demostrar el potencial real de la masa de madera. Según las predicciones de Sharler, “es probable que la mayor parte de su uso se centre en proyectos de altura media, de seis a ocho pisos”.

El Código Internacional de la Edificación permite construcciones de madera de hasta 18 pisos. Los desarrolladores de Ascent lograron una variación debido, en parte, a que el diseño final incluía dos núcleos de hormigón. Sheine y Sharler recalcaron que la mayoría de los proyectos de masa de madera siguen incluyendo al menos algo de hormigón, acero y otros materiales. Y está bien, añade Sharler: la masa de madera debería verse como una opción relativamente nueva que puede ayudar a mejorar la huella de carbono, y no como un sustituto absoluto de los materiales tradicionales. Además, las opciones nuevas siempre son útiles, incluso cuando provienen de la vieja escuela como la madera

Rob Walker periodista; escribe sobre diseño, tecnología y otros temas. Es el autor de The Art of Noticing. Publica un boletín en robwalker.substack.com.

Imagen: La construcción con masa de madera. Crédito: Cortesía de ACSA.

In the months before the pandemic struck, the typical home in Lakewood, Ohio—a small city next to Cleveland on the shores of Lake Erie—still sold for under $200,000. But last May, the median home price crested $300,000 for the first time, marking a 50 percent jump in just over two years. Now city leaders are grappling with questions around housing affordability as the “City of Beautiful Homes” tries to ensure it remains an affordable, welcoming place for all.

Recently, Lakewood staff have had the chance to explore these issues by piloting a scenario planning toolkit commissioned by the Lincoln Institute. The toolkit is designed specifically for small to midsized legacy cities like Lakewood that have experienced substantial economic decline in the past half century.

Former Lincoln Institute Visiting Fellow Arnab Chakraborty organized the workshop with Alison Goebel, executive director of the Greater Ohio Policy Center (GOPC), and Shawn Leininger, Lakewood’s planning director. Chakraborty, who was recently named dean of the University of Utah College of Architecture and Planning, co-wrote the scenario planning toolkit for legacy cities with University of Illinois graduate student Emma Walters, offering step-by-step guidance and tools for communities with limited growth and resources.

Scenario planning—which helps communities identify potential futures so they can better prepare for the unknown—is often used in major cities or in a large-scale, regional context, Chakraborty says, and is typically based on an assumption of growth. But this type of planning isn’t fundamentally about growth, Chakraborty says, it’s about change: “Scenario planning has its origins in business and military planning, where it’s used for all sorts of reasons—including thinking about possible loss and how to manage it.” That makes it surprisingly well-suited to legacy cities, once the principles are calibrated to their needs.

Rather than scripting the contours of their expansion, legacy cities face a very different set of challenges, Chakraborty says, from halting population loss to managing vacancies to paying for infrastructure without overburdening seniors and low-income residents. In Lakewood, where population loss has leveled off in recent years (having fallen from a peak of 70,000 to around 50,000 today) and out-of-state investors are snapping up homes, one of the biggest concerns is ensuring that the community retains its status “as a place where people can find a home they can afford, whether they are owning or renting,” writes Mayor Meghan George. “Lakewood’s pilot use of this toolkit is helping to develop a national model for legacy cities . . . that are working to address issues impacting their communities, such as market pressures pushing prices higher and raising concerns for affordability.”

A Toolkit Test Drive

After the Lincoln Institute selected Lakewood as a pilot community, GOPC and Chakraborty worked with city staff members to identify a focal question to anchor the daylong workshop.

“They considered questions around housing vacancy, housing affordability, zoning, infrastructure,” Chakraborty says. “But the question that seemed to tie all of these together and hit at a central concern for the community was the question of housing affordability.”

“One of the things Lakewood has always prided itself on is we are a community for everybody,” said Leininger, the planning director. But huge increases in home prices—and rents, in a city where roughly half the residents don’t own a home—are making it harder for some longtime residents to stay, and for new ones to move or settle down here.

After settling on that focal point, Lakewood’s team identified local organizations that play a big role in the housing space—lenders, developers, housing advocates, shelters—and invited their leaders to attend the workshop. Involving a range of perspectives and lived experiences is key to the process, says Ryan Handy, a policy analyst at the Lincoln Institute who helps run the organization’s Consortium for Scenario Planning. “Exploratory scenario planning is not forecasting, it’s not based on data or research,” she says. “It’s intended to be informed by people’s community understanding and knowledge.”

Then, they imagined different ways that a couple of big “driving forces”—trends a city can’t really control, such as population or economic growth—might interact, to create a set of possible futures for the group to consider together. In this case, four scenarios emerged, based on different combinations of economic growth and housing affordability: one in which booming economic growth brought an influx of new residents but drove up rents and home prices; one where strong economic growth was accompanied by rapid, abundant development and housing accessibility programs, keeping homes affordable; another where home prices stayed elevated despite a recession due to limited availability; and finally, a 2008-style bottoming out, with an economic downturn yielding an oversupply of cheap, vacant housing.

In more standard planning processes, Chakraborty says, communities “pick one scenario as the vision of the future they desire, and put all the eggs in that basket. Exploratory scenario planning principles suggest sort of stepping away from that idea, and looking at multiple possibilities and thinking about what might work in all of these scenarios.”

Into the Unknown

It took some time to get workshop participants comfortable with the concept of exploratory scenario planning, says Goebel of GOPC. Some had trouble at first thinking beyond the confines of current realities. But the workshop sparked some important realizations among Lakewood staff and other participants, she says.

For starters, it helped the participants identify priority areas for taking action. “That workshop made it very concrete, really kind of clarified where different partners could plug in, and so they felt like the conversation moved into a very productive next phase” that will lead to policy change, Goebel says. Given the city’s large population of renters and the increase in out-of-town landlords, enhanced code enforcement emerged as an important strategy to protect the existing stock of affordably priced housing under any scenario.

The workshop also catalyzed specific action on a zoning change that city officials had been considering for some time. Currently, 46 percent of Lakewood is zoned to allow two-family homes, but a 1996 regulation made it illegal to expand an existing single-family to a two-family, even on such lots. “After the workshop, it became clear that was a very urgent thing that they needed to do,” Goebel says. The planning department proposed a repeal of the 1996 rule to the city council in March, along with an ordinance expanding the maximum lot area coverage from 25 to 35 percent, to allow for more two-family conversions and accessory dwelling units.  

“We’re basically unlocking the right that is already provided by the zoning district by taking away that restriction, and then at the same time opening up a little bit more lot coverage,” Leininger explained to the council—which voted to refer the changes to the Planning Commission and the Department of Planning and Development.

As Lakewood works on an affordable housing action plan coming out of the scenario planning process, Chakraborty will write up a use case demonstrating how exploratory scenario planning can apply to a smaller city, as opposed to a major metropolis. These updates to the toolkit will provide other legacy cities with an even more robust resource, he says: “I think this project is filling a real gap in existing practice.”

Handy says the Consortium for Scenario Planning will continue to develop exploratory scenario planning resources—informed by the Lakewood workshop and other pilot programs taking place this spring—that small, less-resourced communities will ideally be able to use without the benefit of a big staff, outside help, or paid consultants. Another partner on the project, the Lincoln Institute’s Legacy Cities Initiative—a national network of community and government leaders working to revive older industrial centers—also hopes to bring scenario planning to other legacy communities.

“Ideally, exploratory scenario planning is a perfect fit for these places, because it doesn’t require outside experts, or data, or high staff capacity … but this approach really hasn’t been fully tested in those cities yet,” Handy says. “The Lakewood toolkit test made really important strides in that direction.”

The Lakewood workshop was one of several global scenario planning exercises the Lincoln Institute is running this year in conjunction with recently commissioned research, in locations including the Colorado River Basin, Wisconsin, Hudson Valley, Peru, South Africa, and Palestine. To learn more about scenario planning or request scenario planning assistance, visit the Consortium for Scenario Planning site or contact scenarioplanning@lincolninst.edu.

Jon Gorey is a staff writer for the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.

Lead image: View of Cleveland from Lakewood Park, Lakewood, Ohio. Credit: Erik Drost via Flickr CC BY 2.0.

When the first commercial U.S. bike-sharing program launched in 2008, the value proposition was clear. Putting more bikes on the streets was meant to reduce automobile usage and carbon emissions, provide urban residents and tourists with a flexible form of transportation, and offer a public health benefit to boot.

Over the next decade, bike sharing quickly expanded across the country. But because bike-share programs often rely on corporate funding or are operated by profit-driven micromobility businesses, they’ve rarely been available in low-income neighborhoods or cities that would benefit from having access to more transportation options. Recently, this familiar pattern has gotten a jolt from the rising popularity of e-bikes—that is, bicycles equipped with electric-battery technology that supplements or at times replaces traditional pedal power—and from cities and cycling advocates putting different spins on the usual bike-share schemes.

Over the last couple of years, bike-sharing experiments geared toward lower-income residents and communities have launched or been announced in cities including Denver, Oakland, Buffalo, New York; Youngstown, Ohio; and Worcester, Massachusetts.

Sales of e-bikes are booming worldwide, and the technology is proving to be a game-changer. “All bike shares should be electric,” says John MacArthur, sustainable transportation program manager at Portland State University’s Transportation Research and Education Center (TREC), which released a report on the equity of bike-sharing in 2020. “I’m totally convinced of this.”

The key reason, MacArthur says, is that e-bikes have a track record of breaking longstanding barriers around who bikes. They attract older adults, people with physical limitations, individuals who haven’t biked since childhood, and those who have never identified with the sport or culture of bicycling. With traditional bikes, he says, “you will only reach a certain number of people.”

In cities like Portland and New York that have built out all-electric or primarily electric fleets, users “ride them further and ride them more often,” MacArthur says. A typical bike-share ride is about three-and-half miles, TREC found; e-bike trips tend to extend beyond five miles, and approaching twice that isn’t uncommon.

This can have a spatial and economic impact, potentially expanding access to neighborhoods, jobs, and services. “Bike-share equity” has become a recognized issue, and nonprofits and local entrepreneurs are stepping in to meet the needs of traditionally underserved communities and geographies. All of the recent initiatives have at least the partial goal of not only expanding transportation options, but also providing the boost to neighborhood vitality and economic independence that can come with it.

“Historical land use, banking, and other policies have led to a country with a very uneven geography of opportunity,” says Jessie Grogan, associate director of Reduced Poverty and Spatial Inequality at the Lincoln Institute. “The correlation between neighborhood assets and racial and ethnic segregation was not accidental—so undoing it won’t be either. While we need to work on making all neighborhoods places of opportunity, e-bikes can be an essential bridge between high- and low-opportunity places in the meantime. A cheap or free and convenient ride to another community for a good job, or a good school, or a recreational opportunity could be a lifeline for people in underserved neighborhoods.”

Shared Mobility, an equitable transportation nonprofit based in Buffalo, New York, is among the entities trying to help local partners fill the gaps. In 2020, the organization acquired about 3,000 e-bikes that Uber was planning to scrap after selling off its Jump-branded bike-share business. The group partnered with the city’s East Side Bike Club (ESBC) to use some of the bikes to start an e-bike library in Buffalo, serving a low-income area with a predominantly Black population. E-bike libraries provide free bike rentals and bike-related education to community members; among other bike repair services and educational programs, ESBC now offers free weeklong use of its e-bikes. Shared Mobility has worked with partners in other communities in New York, California, and North Carolina to seed e-bike libraries in those places.

Michael Galligano, CEO of Shared Mobility, says the kind of community engagement ESBC and other groups are involved in can help them land grants and funding to sustain these programs. But he also argues that bike and e-bike programs should be treated by municipalities as a form of public transportation—and both planned for and funded accordingly. “Where does public transit stop?” he asks. “We think it’s not just buses and trains. It’s also biking, walking, car sharing, ride hailing.”

Galligano points to the Capital District Transit Authority, which serves Albany, New York, and surrounding municipalities, as an example of a long-time Shared Mobility collaborator that thinks this way—and will partially fund its own upcoming e-bike share program with transit dollars. In Massachusetts, meanwhile, the state government has pledged $5 million to fund initiatives that make clean-energy transportation options like e-bikes more accessible to low-income populations; this will allow the city of Worcester to give e-bikes to 100 residents as part of a two-year study to learn more about the use and impacts of the technology. 

Another e-bike initiative in a legacy city is relying on a hybrid funding approach. YoGo Bikeshare launches in Youngstown, Ohio, this spring with about 30 e-bikes distributed among four docking stations. The Black-owned business, funded by a loan from the Youngstown Business Incubator and an investment by its owners, is meeting a need in a city that other micro-mobility companies have passed over.

“Transportation in communities like Youngstown is a particular challenge, since decades of population and economic decline have led them to have very large and spread-out cities relative to their population size,” Grogan notes. “Poorer cities are also generally not very well-served by transit, so it’s particularly important to invest in mobility options in places like Youngstown.”

The philanthropic community is also getting involved with expanding e-bike access. MacArthur points to the work of Better Bike Share, funded by the JPB Foundation, which has an explicit goal of increasing “access to and use of shared micro-mobility systems in low-income and BIPOC communities.” Its most high-profile city partner is Philadelphia; efforts there over the past decade to build a more inclusive bike-share system have set an example, MacArthur says, and Better Bike Share grants have now funded multiple projects across the country.

Clearly all these experiments are smaller-scale, incremental steps, not massive citywide transportation projects or comprehensive infrastructure overhauls. But incremental change can add up. At a minimum, the advent of the e-bike as a tool for expanding access to economic opportunity represents a chance to draw in more widespread popular support for transportation alternatives. And twinning the technology with neighborhood-level programs that double as community hubs, like ESBC in Buffalo, may be a useful way to reinforce that goal. Even if people are drawn in for recreation, or pure curiosity, MacArthur says, that introduction can be a gateway to seeing e-bikes as a useful means of transport, and can help inspire ambassadors to spread that message.

For more than a decade, most of the attention on bike-sharing programs was focused on decreasing vehicle miles traveled and carbon emissions while increasing profits. But an evolution seems to be underway, as access to bikes expands, perceptions begin to shift, and the economic and equity-related benefits of e-bikes become clearer. The ultimate goal of bike-sharing, Galligano says, is to add to the “repertoire of transportation options”—and if this new technology is inspiring fresh experiments and reaching new audiences, so much the better: “It’s not one size fits all.”

Rob Walker is a journalist covering design, technology, and other subjects. He is the author of The Art of Noticing. His newsletter is at robwalker.substack.com.

Image: Shared Mobility team members Shane Paul and Tyler Madell, at right, visit with representatives of the nonprofit Pacoima Beautiful to help build an e-bike library in Pacoima, California. Shared Mobility has helped start several e-bike libraries in underserved communities. Credit: Patrick Cray.