How do you map a city with no centre? Commuting patterns in the San Francisco Bay area

The Golden Gate Bridge, San Francisco Bay. Image: Justin Sullivan/Getty.

Dr Alasdair Rae is a senior lecturer in the geography department of the University of Sheffield.

I’ve recently been writing and thinking about polycentric urban regions: partly because I’m interested in how places connect (or not) for one of my research projects, and partly because I’ve been experimenting with ways to map the connections between places in polycentric urban regions.

There was quite a lot of the latter in Peter Hall and Kathy Pain’s ‘The Polycentric Metropolis’ from 2006 – but given that the technology has moved on a little since then I thought I’d explore the topic in more detail. Mind you, I’ve also been looking back on Volumes 1 to 3 of the Chicago Area Transportation Study of 1959, as a reminder that technology hasn’t moved on as much as we think: their "Cartographatron" was capable of mapping over 10m commuting flows even then, although it was the size of a small house and required a team of technicians to operate it.

Anyway, to the point… What’s the best way of mapping polycentricity in an urban region? 

For this, I decided to look at the San Francisco Bay Area since it has been the subject of a few studies by one of my favourite scholars, Prof Robert Cervero of UC Berkeley. Also, a paper by Melanie Rapino and Alison Fields of the US Census Bureau identified the Bay Area as the region with the highest percentage of "mega commuting" in the United States – that is, people who travel 90 or more minutes and 50 or more miles to work. 

Therefore, I decided to look at commuting flows between census tracts in the 9 counties of the Bay Area, from Sonoma County in the north to Santa Clara County in the south. I’ve used a cut-off of 30 miles here instead of the more generous 50 mile cut-off used by Rapino and Fields. I also mapped the whole of the United States in this way, but that’s for another day.

Are you in the big blue blob?

The series of maps below illustrate both patterns of commuting in the Bay Area and the different approaches I’ve taken in an attempt to capture the essence of polycentrism in the area. I don’t attempt to capture the misery of some of these commutes (for that I’d need a different kind of technology).

But, I do think the animations in particular capture the polycentric nature of commuter flows. If you’re represented by one of the dots in the images below, thanks a lot for taking part!

Let’s start with a simple representation of commutes of over 30 miles from San Francisco County (which is coterminous with the City of San Francisco). The animated gif is shown below.

The most noticeable thing here is the big blue blob(©) making its way down from San Francisco to Palo Alto, Mountain View and Cupertino in Santa Clara County. In total, the blue dots represent just over 15,000 commuters going to 803 different destination census tracts.

I’m going to take a wild guess and suggest that some of these commutes are by people who work at Stanford, Google and Apple. But it probably also includes people working at NASA Ames Research Center, Santa Clara University and locations in San Jose. 

These patterns aren’t particularly surprising, since there has been a lot of press coverage about San Francisco’s bus wars and commutes of this kind. However, there is a fairly significant dispersal of San Francisco commuters north and east, even if the numbers don’t match those of the big blue blob. By the way, from San Francisco it's about 33 miles to Palo Alto, 39 miles to Mountain View, 42 to Cupertino and 48 to San Jose. 

The first example above doesn’t reveal anything like the whole story, though. There are actually quite a lot of commuters who travel in the opposite direction from Santa Clara County to San Francisco. And more widely, the commuting patterns in the Bay Area – a metro area of around 7.5 m people – resembles a nexus of mega-commuting.

This is what I’ve attempted to show below, for all tract-to-tract connections of 10 people or more, and no distance cut-off. The point is not to attempt to display all individual lines, though you can see some. I’m attempting to convey the general nature of connectivity (with the lines) and the intensity of commuting in some areas (the orange and yellow glowing areas). 

 

Even when you look at tract-to-tract connections of 50 or more, the nexus looks similar.

 

If we zoom in on a particular location, using a kind of "spider diagram" of commuting interactions, we can see the relationships between one commuter destination and its range of origins. In the example below I’ve taken the census tract where the Googleplex is located, and looked at all Bay Area Commutes which terminate there, regardless of distance.

In the language of the seminal Chicago Area Transportation Study I mentioned above, these are "desire lines" since this represents "the shortest line between origin and destination, and expresses the way a person would like to go, if such a way were available" (CATS, 1959, p. 39) instead of, for example, sitting in traffic on US Route 101 for 90 minutes.

According to the data, this example includes just over 23,000 commuters from 585 different locations across the Bay Area. I've also done an animated line version and a point version, just for comparison.

Commuting connections for the Googleplex census tract.

 

Animated spider diagram of flows to Mountain View.

 

Just some googlers going to work, probably. 

Looking further afield now, to different parts of the Bay Area, I also produced animated dot maps of commutes of 30 miles or more for the other three most populous counties – Alameda, Contra Costa and Santa Clara. I think these examples do a good job of demonstrating the polycentric nature of commuting in this area, since the points disperse far and wide to multiple centres.

Note that I decided to make the dots return to their point of origin – after a slight delay – in order to highlight the fact that commuting is a two way process. The Alameda County animation represents over 12,000 commuters, going to 751 destinations, Contra Costa 25,000 and 1,351, and Santa Clara nearly 28,000 commuters and 1,561 destinations. The totals for within the Bay Area are about 3.3m and 110,000 origin-destination links.

Alameda County commutes of 30+ miles.

 

Contra Costa County commutes of 30+ miles.

 

Santa Clara County commutes of 30+ miles.

 

Finally, I’ve attempted something which is a bit much for one map, but here it is anyway; an animated dot map of all tract-to-tract flows of 30 or more miles in the Bay Area, with dots coloured by the county of origin. Although this gets pretty crazy half way through I think the mixing of the colours does actually tell its own story of polycentric urbanism. For this final animation I’ve added a little audio into the video file as well, just for fun.

A still from the final animation. You can see the whole thing here.

What am I trying to convey with the final animation? Like I said, it's too much for a single map animation but it's kind of a metaphor for the messy chaos of Bay Area commuting (yes, let's go with that). You can make more sense of it if you watch it over a few times and use the controls to pause it. It starts well and ends well, but the bits in the middle are pretty ugly – just like the Bay Area commute, like I said.


My attempts to understand the functional nature of polycentric urbanism continue, and I attempt to borrow from pioneers like Waldo Tobler and the authors of the Chicago Area Transportation Study. This is just a little map-based experimentation in an attempt to bring the polycentric metropolis to life, for a region plagued by gruesome commutes.

It’s little wonder, therefore, that a recent poll suggested Bay Area commuters were in favour of improving public transit. If you're interested in understanding more about the Bay Area's housing and transit problems, I suggest watching this Google Talk from Egon Terplan (54:44).

Dr Alasdair Rae is a senior lecturer in the geography department of the University of Sheffield. 

This article was originally posted on his blog, Under the Raedar, and is reposted here with the author's permission.

 

NOTES: The data I used for this are the 2006-2010 5-year ACS tract-to-tract commuting file, published in 2013. Patterns may have changed a little since then, but I suspect they are very similar today, possibly with more congestion.

There are severe data warnings associated with individual tract-to-tract flows from the ACS data but at the aggregate level they provide a good overview of local connectivity. I used QGIS to map the flows. I actually mapped the entire United States this way, but that’s going into an academic journal (I hope).

I used Michael Minn’s MMQGIS extension in QGIS to produce the animation frames and then I patched them together in GIMP (gifs) and Camtasia (for the mp4s), with IrfanView doing a little bit as well (batch renaming for reversing file order). Not quite a 100% open source workflow but that’s because I just had Camtasia handy. The images are low res and only really good for screen. If you’re looking for higher resolution images, get in touch. 

 
 
 
 

What’s behind the rise of the ornamental restaurant toilet?

Toilets at Sketch restaurant, London. Image: Nik Stanbridge/Flickr.

A few weeks ago, I found myself in the toilets of a zeitgeisty new Italian restaurant in east London called Gloria. As with so many contemporary restaurant toilets, those in question were an aesthetic extension of the establishment’s soul. The inventive menu was matched by two-way mirrored toilet doors.

The setup was this: cubicle occupants could see out while the unisex crowd milling around the taps could check their outfits on the exterior mirrors. All fun and games, I thought. But then I found myself mid toilet with a guy peering into my door to change his contact lens. Either he had spectacularly bad manners or he was unaware of the two-way door thing. (Let’s hope it’s the latter.)

Gloria’s toilets aren’t unique in their attempt to be distinctive. The loos at nearby Mr Fogg’s Maritime Club & Distillery are adorned with specimen boards of dead spiders. Meanwhile, Edinburgh’s The Sun Inn invites patrons to pee in buckets, and trumpets double as urinals in The Bell Inn in East Sussex. Men can wee into the vista if they’re dining in the Shard. And Sketch’s ovum shaped loos are the stuff of urban legend.

Further afield, transparent doors become frosted only after they’re locked at Brussels’ Belga Queen. In Otto’s Bierhalle in Toronto, diners can press a button to activate their own private rave. And the toilets in Robot Restaurant in Tokyo have gold-plated interiors and dancing robots.

What’s behind this trend? Are quirky toilets just a bit of fun – or an unnecessary complication to the simple act of going for a wee and checking you don’t have tomato sauce on your chin?

Yotam Ottolenghi’s London flagship restaurant Nopi crops up often in conversations about restaurant bathrooms. A hall of mirrors glitters enticingly ahead of loo-bound diners. “The bathroom needs to be the nicest part [of] the whole place because that’s where you’re on your own,” says Alex Meitlis, the designer behind the space.

But no one is truly alone in 2019. If surveys are to be believed, nearly 65 per cent of millennials take their phone to the bathroom with them. Mike Gibson, who edits the London food and drink magazine Foodism agrees that the bathroom selfie – searches for which, incidentally, yield over 1.5m results on Instagram – is part of the reason that contemporary lavatory design is so attention seeking.


“Any new venue that's opening will be super aware that there's probably not an inch of their restaurant that won't be photographed or filmed at some point”, he says. But bathrooms like Nopi’s predate this trend. Indeed, Meitlis believes he has created a haven from the smartphone obsession; Nopi’s mirrors are angled in such a way that means you have to seek out your reflection. “You can choose whether to look for yourself in the mirror or not.”

Another driving force is the increasingly competitive restaurant landscape. “It’s almost like there’s some sort of ever-escalating competition going on amongst new openings, which makes every visit a faintly terrifying experience”, says food writer and New Statesman contributor Felicity Cloake. Gibson agrees. “Restaurants want an edge wherever possible, and design definitely comes into that.”

So novelty bathrooms get you noticed, promote social media engagement and entertain diners who are momentarily without the distraction of company. (Although, it must be said, quirky bathrooms tend to make the loo trip a more sociable experience; a Gloria spokesperson described the restaurant’s toilets as somewhere you can “have a good laugh and meet people along the way.”)

Nevertheless, I’m not the only one who finds bathroom surprises disconcerting.  One TripAdvisor user thought the Belga Queen loos were “scary”. And a friend reports that her wonderment at the Nopi bathroom was laced with mirror maze induced nausea – and mild panic when she realised she didn’t know the way out. Should restaurants save the thrills for the food?

“I think it's important not to be too snarky about these things – restaurants are meant to playful,” says Gibson. Cloake agrees that novelty is fine, but adds: “my favourite are places like Zelman Meats in Soho that have somewhere in the dining room where you can easily wash your hands before sitting down and tucking in.”

So perhaps we should leave toilets unadorned and instead ramp up the ornamentation elsewhere. Until then, I’ll be erecting a makeshift curtain in all mirrored toilets I encounter in future. An extreme reaction, you might say. But, as I wish I could have told the rogue contact lens inserter, it’s not nice to pry into someone else’s business.