Speed vs coverage: How do metro systems decide how to space their stops?

The Paris Metro: quite close to another station, this. Image: Getty.

The Paris Metro averages a stop every 600m. The Moscow Metro averages a stop every 1.7km. Most of the world's largest systems are in between, several clustering in the 1.2-1.3 km range, including the London Underground, the Tokyo subway, and the Mexico City Metro.

But why is this? How come metro builders in some cities chose to build stations three times as far apart as in others? And what about those cities that have no metro system, but are building one, such as Tel Aviv or Sydney? What should they do?

The basic tradeoff here is between speed and coverage. Wider stop spacing means fewer locations have a metro station, but the speed between the stations is higher. The Moscow Metro averages 41 km/h, while the Paris Metro only averages about 25km/h. Other systems are intermediate: in Tokyo the average speed is about 30km/h; in London 33km/h.

There are other factors determining average speed, so that newer lines are often fast for their stop spacing. But each additional station adds about 40-60 seconds of travel time, depending on top speed, track quality, and train acceleration capabilities. The tradeoff, then, is the question: are more stations worth the extra travel time?

Each metro-building tradition answers this question differently. In cities where the metro extends deep into suburbia, stop spacing is wide; Paris built the RER as a separate system, with express stop pattern, because the Metro was too slow to effectively serve the suburbs.

Moreover, different countries make different decisions based purely on tradition. Under Parisian influence, the Montreal and Lyon Metros have short stop spacing; under Moscow's influence the metro systems in the former Communist Bloc, from Eastern Europe to China and North Korea, usually average more than 1.5 km between stations. With neither influence, cities in developing countries that build new metros, such as in South Asia, seem to use the same stop spacing as London or Tokyo.

But there is more to the stop spacing decision than the speed versus coverage tradeoff. Large cities, which expect to build many metro lines, need to plan how those lines will intersect in their cores. The San Francisco urbanist Brian Stokle wrote about the related subject of line spacing: how cities space parallel metro lines in their central business districts. Using American examples, Stokle argues that the typical space for parallel lines is 500-700 meters; this also appears to be the average in Paris and in central London.

The upshot is that if two lines are parallel, spaced about half a kilometer apart, then a line that intersects them orthogonally had better have two stops half a kilometer apart, for transfers. For example, in the diagram below the red and blue lines are roughly parallel, and the black line is orthogonal to them.

This looks familiar. Image: author provided.

Metro planners aim to provide a transfer station at the intersection of every pair of lines. In practice, because most metro systems have denser line spacing than stop spacing, this is not always feasible. Metro systems that feed geographically small central business districts, such as central London or central Tokyo, end up with multiple missed connections; New York, where the subway was built by three separate companies, has more than twenty missed connections. But usually, there is only a small handful of missed connections, often just one or two.

A separate question is that of express lines. In New York, five of the nine subway trunk lines have four tracks, with local and express trains; in Seoul, Line 1 has four tracks as well. Thanks to the express lines, New York maintains very narrow stop spacing on the local lines.


But a more common situation is one in which every metro line has two tracks, with all trains making all stops, on which some lines are more express than others. In Paris, the RER A was built as an express version of Metro Line 1, and, decades later, Metro Line 14 was built with longer stop spacing as well, to relieve the central segment of the RER A.

This situation leads to missed connections. The RER A tries to make connections when it can, but still crosses a few lines without a transfer, or else it would be hardly any faster than Line 1.

London's equivalent, Crossrail, does the same: it misses some connections to north-south lines, because if it didn't, it wouldn't be faster than the Central line, simply because line spacing in Central London is so dense. Within the Paris Metro, excluding the RER, there are three missed connections, two involving Line 14; an under-construction extension of Line 14 misses yet another connection. In Asia, several cities, including Hong Kong, Beijing, and Delhi have express lines to the airport, with missed connections in every case.

But it's easier to build networks with long stop spacing in newer cities, purely because of how their business districts are laid out. In old industrialised cities like London, Paris, New York, and even Tokyo, there is a dominant CBD, a few square kilometers in area, and most metro lines enter it. In all of these cities, the CBDs for the most part predate the metro system.

In newer cities in developing countries, the CBDs look different, with multiple centers, sometimes purpose-built. This leads to longer line spacing, matching the wide stop spacing. On same-scale maps of their networks, Paris, London, and Tokyo all look like hard-to-follow blobs in their centers, whereas Chinese cities, especially Beijing, still look clear. In Beijing, the only missed connection today involves the airport express line.

The most ideal metro network looks radial, with a circular line or two. Every pair of radial lines should intersect, once, with a transfer station, and every radial should intersect every circle twice, again with transfers. Ideally interchange stations should only involve two lines at a time, to avoid clogging the most popular locations. The diagram above is a good example of a coherent network with three lines. Unfortunately, the interaction of line spacing and stop spacing makes the ideal network difficult to construct. It's also unlikely that the street network is perfectly aligned for this; for example, cities with street grids, like Beijing or Philadelphia, can't easily build lines diagonally to the grid.

 

The ideal network? At least, if you ignore the chaos of that central station. Image: CityMetric.

This means that the only way to guarantee easy connections between metro lines in most large cities is to build very short stop spacing, as in Paris. Unfortunately, this imposes a sharp limit on train speed - and it's precisely the largest cities that have the most need for speed, since their suburbs usually stretch farther out of city center than those of smaller cities.

Metro construction is full of compromises. Cities that are building new systems, especially in the developed world, are likely to have so much sprawl, from decades of growing without a metro, that they need long stop spacing to serve the suburbs effectively. But they also are likely to have an organic central business district with many close-in dense neighborhoods, which would benefit from short stop spacing; they also have everywhere-to-everywhere commutes, as all modern cities do, which makes good interchanges between lines a must. Something has to give, and each city needs to figure out how, in its particular situation, to choose the optimal point in the speed-coverage tradeoff.

 
 
 
 

Where did London’s parakeets come from?

Parakeets in the skies above Wormwood Scrubs, west London. Image: Getty.

Visitors to London’s many green spaces would have to be stubbornly looking at their feet to not see one of the UK’s most exotic birds.  Dubbed “posh pigeons” by unimaginative Londoners, these brilliant green parakeets stand out among the fauna of Northern Europe’s mostly grey cities.

‘Parakeets’ is actually an umbrella term referring to the multiple species, which can now be found in London, Amsterdam, Brussels, Paris and various German cities. By far the most common is the Indian ring-necked parakeet, easily recognisable by the stylish red ring around their neck, a matching red beak and, of course, the loud squawking.

In the last 50 years these migrants from South Asia have arrived and thrived, settling into their own ecological niche. In the UK, London is a particular stronghold, but although they may have originally settled in the leafy streets of Twickenham, the birds can now be found in cities as far north as Glasgow.

The story of how they ended up in London is a matter of some discussion and plenty of myth. One often reported theory is that the capitals’ current population are the descendants of birds that escaped from Shepperton Studios during filming of The African Queen, starring Humphrey Bogart and Katharine Hepburn. Others would tell you that they escaped from Syon Park in the early 1970s, when a piece of debris from a passing plane damaged the aviary and allowed them to escape. This chimes with their original concentration in South West London.
My favourite story by far is that they were released by Jimi Hendrix on Carnaby Street in the late 60s. Bored of London’s grey skyline, he set the little fellas free to liven up the place.

However they got here, from 1970 onwards their numbers boomed. In 1992, 700 birds were recorded in London Bird Report. By 1998, 2,845 were seen in the London Area, and by 2006 the ring-neck parakeet was 15th most sighted bird in London.


Darwin would be proud at how well they adapted to the new environment. Toughened up by the hard Himalayan climate, they handle the cold northern European winters better than most locals. Global warming is often brought up in discussions of the parakeets, but it is certainly only part of the story.
It helps, too, that the birds have a 35 year lifespan and few local predators, enabling them to breed freely.

As with any new species, the debate has raged about whether they are harmful to the ecosystem. Strangely reminiscent of the debate over human migrants, often the birds have often been accused of stealing the homes of the natives. The parakeets do nest in tree cavities also used by jackdaws, owls and woodpeckers – but there is little evidence that native species are being muscled out. 

The also provide a food source for Britain's embattled birds of prey. Owls and peregrine falcons have been know to eat them. Charlie and Tom, two city dwelling falcons monitored by Nathalie Mahieu, often bring back parakeets as food.
Of more concern is the new arrivals’ effect on plants and trees. By 2009 their numbers in the UK had grown so much that they were added to the “general licence” of species, which can be killed without individual permission if they are causing damage.

And Parrotnet, am EU funded research project studying the development of parakeet populations across Europe, has warned of the risk they pose to agriculture. In their native India, the parakeets are known to cause widespread damage to crops. As agriculture develops in the UK in line with warmer climates, crops such as maize, grapes and sunflower will become more popular. In India the birds have been documented as reducing maize crops by 81 per cent.

So the parakeets remain divisive. Environmentalist Tony Juniper has disparagingly described them as “the grey squirrel of the skies”. By contrast, the University of York biologist Chris D. Thomas has argued that the parakeets should be left free to move and breed. He sees those wary of the parakeet boom of “irrational persecution” of the bird.

For good or ill the parakeets are here to stay. As so often with migrants of all kinds, there has been some unease about the impact they have had – but the birds, popular amongst Londoners, certainly add colour to the city. Thriving in the urban environment thousands of miles from their natural habitat, they are a metropolitan bird for Europe’s metropolitan cities. 

Want more of this stuff? Follow CityMetric on Twitter or Facebook