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.

 
 
 
 

In South Africa's cities, evictions are happening despite a national ban

An aerial view shows a destroyed house in Lawley, south of Johannesburg, on April 20, 2020. The city has been demolishing informal structures on vacant land despite a moratorium on evictions. (Marco Longari/AFP via Getty Images)

On the morning of 15 July, a South African High Court judge ruled that the city of Cape Town’s Anti-Land Invasion Unit had illegally evicted a man when it destroyed the shack where he was living.

That afternoon, the Anti-Land Invasion Unit was out again, removing shacks in another informal settlement.

Evictions were banned in South Africa for nine weeks, after the national government placed the country under a strict Covid-19 lockdown in late March. At present, eviction orders are automatically suspended until the country moves to a lower “alert level” and can only be carried out with a special order from a judge.

Yet major cities including Cape Town, Johannesburg and eThekwini (created through the merger of Durban with several surrounding communities), have continued to use municipal law enforcement agencies and private security companies to remove people from informal housing. In many cases those operations have been conducted without a court order – something required under regular South African law.

Around 900 people were evicted from three informal settlements in eThekwini during the eviction ban, according to the Church Land Programme, a local NGO. Its director, Graham Philpott, says it’s also aware of evictions in other informal settlements.

While evictions aren’t a “new experience” in these communities, the NGO released a report on lockdown evictions because they were “so explicitly illegal”. “There was a moratorium in place,” Philpott says, “and the local municipality acted quite flagrantly against it. There’s no confusion, there’s no doubt whatsoever, it is illegal. But it is part of a trend where the eThekwini municipality has acted illegally in evicting the poor from informal settlements.”

Evictions also took place in Cape Town and Johannesburg during so-called “hard lockdown” according to local activists. In eThekwini and other municipalities, the evictions have continued despite restrictions. In Cape Town, authorities pulled a naked man, Bulelani Qholani, from his shack. That incident, which was captured on video, drew condemnation from the national government and four members of the Anti-Land Invasion unit were suspended. 


The cities say they’re fighting “land invasions” – illegal occupations without permission from the land owner.

“Land invasions derail housing and service projects, lead to the pollution of waterways, severely prejudice deserving housing beneficiaries and cause property owners to lose their investments over night,” Cape Town’s executive mayor, Dan Plato said in a statement. (Plato has also claimed that Qholani did not live in the shack he was pulled from and that he disrobed when municipal authorities arrived.)

South African municipalities often claim that the shacks they destroy are unoccupied. 

If they were occupied, says Msawakhe Mayisela, a spokesman for the eThekwini municipality, the city would get a court order before conducting an eviction. “Everything we’re doing is within the ambit of the law,” Mayisela says. But “rogue elements” are taking advantage of Covid-19, he added.

“We fully understand that people are desperately in need of land, but the number of people that are flocking to the cities is too much, the city won’t be able to provide housing or accommodation for everyone overnight,” he says. 

While eThekwini claims to be a caring city, local activists say the evictions show otherwise.

In one case, 29 women were evicted from shacks during the hard lockdown. With nowhere to go, they slept in an open field and were arrested by the South African Police Service for violating the lockdown, Philpott says.

“These evictions are dehumanizing people whose dignity is already compromised in many ways,” says S’bu Zikode, the president of Abahlali baseMjondolo, a community organization whose Zulu name translates to “the people of the shacks”. 

“It has reminded us that we are the people that do not count in our society.”

Municipal law enforcement and private security contractors hired by cities regularly fire rubber bullets, or even live ammunition, at residents during evictions. Some 18 Abahlali baseMjondolo activists have been killed since the organization was founded in 2005, Zikode says, most by the eThekwini Land Invasion Unit and Metro Police.

(Mayisela says that if city employees have broken the law, Abahlali baseMjondolo can file a complaint with the police. “There is no conclusive evidence to the effect that our members have killed them,”  he says.)

Other Abahlali baseMjondolo activists have been killed by what Zikode calls “izinkabi,” hitmen hired by politicians. Two eThekwini city councillors were sentenced to life in prison 2016 after they organized the killing of Thuli Ndlovu, an Abahlali baseMjondolo organizer. A member of the Land Invasion Unit who is currently facing a charge of attempted murder after severely injuring a person during an eviction remains on the job, Zikode says.

South Africa’s 1996 constitution is intended to protect the public from arbitrary state violence and guarantees a right to housing, as well as due process in evictions. But for Zikode, the South African constitution is a “beautiful document on a shelf”.

“For the working class and the poor, it’s still difficult to have access to court. You’ve got to have money to get to court,” he says. 

The actions by municipal law enforcement are breaking down social trust, says Buhle Booi, a member of the Khayelitsha Community Action Network, a community group in the largest township in Cape Town.

“There’s a lack of police resources and those very few police resources that they have, they use to destroy people’s homes, to destroy people’s peace, rather than fighting crime, real criminal elements that we see in our society,” Booi says.

For him, it’s a continuation of the practices of the colonial and apartheid governments, pushing poor people, most of whom are Black, to the periphery of cities.

Around one-fifth of South Africa’s urban population live in shacks or informal dwellings, according to a 2018 report by SERI. Many more live in substandard housing. City governments maintain that the shacks destroyed during anti-land invasion operations are unfinished and unoccupied. But Edward Molopi, a research and advocacy officer at SERI, says that this claim is an attempt to escape their legal obligations to get a court order and to find alternative accommodation for affected people. 

The roots of the current eviction crisis go back to apartheid, which barred non-white people from living in cities. Between the 1940s and 1970s, tens of thousands of people were forcibly relocated from neighbourhoods like Johannesburg’s Sophiatown and Cape Town’s District Six to remote townships.

In the 26 years following the end of apartheid, deepening economic inequality and rampant unemployment have limited access to formal housing for millions of South Africans. Government housing programs have mostly focused on building small stand-alone homes, often on the peripheries of cities far from jobs and amenities.

While these well-intentioned projects have built millions of homes, they’ve failed to keep up with demand, says Marie Huchzermeyer, a professor at the Centre for Urbanism & Built Environment Studies at the University of the Witwatersrand in Johannesburg. Government-funded housing projects “will never on it’s own be enough,” she says. “It has to be accompanied by land release.”

Government policies call for the “upgrading” of informal settlements and the formalization of residents’ occupation. But “there are still very, very, very few projects” of that nature in South Africa, Huchzermeyer says. “Even if it’s an informal settlement that’s been around for 20 years, there still seems to be a political wish to punish people for having done that.” The government wants people to go through the formal process of being given a house, she says – and for them to be thankful to the government for providing it.

At the municipal level, change will require “real leadership around informal settlement upgrading and around ensuring that land is available for people to occupy,” she says. 

Despite the end of enforced racial segregation, spacial apartheid remains a factor in South Africa. There are few mixed-income neighbourhoods. Those who can afford to often live behind walls in sprawling low-density suburbs, while the poor live in overcrowded slums and apartment buildings.

The creation of the apartheid city “didn't happen by chance,” says Amira Osman, a professor of architecture at the Tshwane University of Technology. “It was a deliberate, structured approach to the design of the city. We need a deliberate, structured approach that will undo that.”

Since last fall, Johannesburg’s Inclusionary Housing Policy has required developments of 20 or more units to set aside 30% of those units for low-income housing.

The policy, which faced significant opposition from private developers, won’t lead to dramatic change, says Sarah Charlton, a professor at the Centre for Urbanism and Built Environment Studies, but it is “an important and significant step.”

Zikode isn’t optimistic that change will come for shack dwellers, however.

“People in the high positions of authority pretend that everything is normal,” he says. “They pretend that everyone is treated justly, they pretend that everyone has homes with running water, that everyone has a piece of land – and hide the truth and the lies of our democracy.”

Jacob Serebrin is a freelance journalist currently based in Johannesburg. Follow him on Twitter.