This actually ended up being one of my favorite reads of 2024. I'm working on a pet theory about pie-in-the-sky projects like Sidewalk Labs: that they're not actually exceptional cases, but rather simply the points at which the underlying ridiculousness of ordinary things becomes concrete and visible. Put in one sentence: "it was privatization, of all the things people in a democracy want governments to do, that was at stake."
What strikes me is how powerful the forces behind the initiative must have been in order to get it as far as it went, because when you spell it all out, it clearly does not work. Fundamentally, Sidewalk Labs needed to make a lot of money. They “needed a rate of return they could justify—and had to justify it to Alphabet,” their parent company. Alphabet had begun to feel pressure from shareholders to justify its "moonshots", a category that included Sidewalk: "Alphabet’s revenue for what it called these “other bets” in its financial statements was $659 million that year [2019], 0.4 percent of its total income, yet they lost $4.8 billion." These things can last a while under the charisma of a founder like Larry Page, but eventually an organization has to rationalize its strategy.
How could Sidewalk Labs make money? Their entire business model was dependent on "partnering" with a city, meaning that the city government would hand over valuable public assets. These assets would include 12 acres of waterfront land in downtown Toronto, but crucially would also include nonphysical assets: the massive amounts of data generated by Torontonians, as well as any intellectual property developed from the planning process or from insights generated by the data. The land had been appraised for $590 million CAD, but the nonphysical assets could potentially be much more valuable. O'Kane quotes writer and advocate Bianca Wylie: "Fifty million dollars is a rounding error in the conversation about the value of our data. We cannot undervalue this asset." O'Kane himself points out the "hundreds of billions of dollars that technology companies were raking in from learning how people behave online," so how valuable could it be to gather an unprecedented amount of data about how people behave in cities?
On top of all this, Toronto would create the conditions for Sidewalk to extract greater profits by exempting it from existing regulations, "amending the City of Toronto Act, the city’s municipal code, and the Ontario Highway Traffic Act", and possibly giving Sidewalk the power to levy its own taxes. No matter how this is framed, it is tantamount to ceding the city's legislative authority to Sidewalk Labs. Fundamentally, though, Sidewalk Labs could only make money from being handed public assets: land, data, and intellectual property.
If you want public assets belonging to Toronto, Ontario, Canada, you have to deal with all three layers of government. Toronto is regarded as having strict procurement policies; or at least, if you have any dreams about circumventing them, you are going to have to have some exceptional advocates within the government. Sidewalk wasn't able to find such a patron. A source tells O'Kane: "The land questions came up in Sidewalk’s occasional meetings with Mayor John Tory... Offering a subsidiary of one of the richest companies in the world hundreds of acres of extremely valuable real estate wouldn’t just break procurement rules. It would be political suicide."
Hundreds of acres? Right: I forget to mention that the 12 acres that Waterfront Toronto was actually authorized to develop wasn't enough for Sidewalk's plans to be profitable, by their own internal projections. Sidewalk would at least need access to 20 acres at Villiers Island, if not a total of 190 acres. This core contradiction in the plan culminates in this beautiful exchange:
“As you say, you’ve worked in government, and real estate, and you can’t have been surprised that attempting to short-circuit a procurement process—”
Doctoroff interrupted him. “The procurement issue for Villiers was always complicated.”
It wasn’t. There hadn’t been a public procurement process for Villiers West...
The gears turned slowly, our institutions mostly did their job, and pressure from private citizens, activists, and journalists (including O'Kane) played a crucial role in turning the tide of public opinion. Waterfront Toronto, a small municipal office, was unsurprisingly not prepared for the sorts of things that an Alphabet company would try to slip past them. Here is a paradigmatic example: Sidewalk tried to invent a legally novel category of data called "urban data". Without legal expertise in this area, you wouldn't necessarily know that this was Sidewalk asserting that it would not be subject to existing privacy regulations. It has been frequently observed that "tech" "innovation" tends towards moves of this form (think of Uber calling its workers "contractors").
I remember conversations about Sidewalk Labs mainly focusing around the changing concept of privacy in an era of new technology. The notion of privacy involved was typically an individualist one, at that: "Who cares if Google knows my location? That's just the direction technology is headed in." The main lesson I would want people to take away is that flashy technology and privacy concerns were a "red herring". It's not new technology, and it's not entirely that you should be worried that Google knows where you are; it's that Google is profiting off this data that you produce, and you're not seeing a dime of it.
The details of the struggle are super interesting in both their resonances with history and their general insanity. Of course behind Sidewalk Labs is the same guy who brought us Hudson Yards, with its eyesore suicide magnet and tax increment financing. Of course Waterfront Toronto's chief development officer was the daughter of Bill Davis, the Ontario Premier who joined with Jane Jacobs to lead the defense against one of the other great urban design boondoggles in Toronto's history: the proposed Spadina Expressway which would have cut downtown Toronto in half (the finished part is now known as the Allen Road). Of course Sidewalk pitched building a giant dome so people could sleep outside, not as a measure to protect the unhoused, but to lure "progressive types.. using the example of Occupy Wall Street encampments", without any sense of ironic awareness that the protestors didn't just love sleeping outside but were protesting against companies like them. Of course Larry Page listened to Sidewalk Labs's initial pitch and ignored their market research to ask out of the blue why they hadn't considered making buildings on wheels. Of course Sidewalk invited Indigenous groups to make recommendations for the project, ignored all of their recommendations, continued to name-check the involvement of Indigenous groups in publicity, and all the while completely sidestepped the Missisaugas of the Credit, the actual parties to the treaty involving Quayside- and internally "some of Sidewalk's employees had been privately descibing the company's work as 'colonial'". Of course the whole affair ended in an anticlimax after Waterfront Toronto held their position and Alphabet realized they wouldn't make enough of a profit in the wake of Covid.
And again, these are not exceptional circumstances. The spectacle of it all is nothing but rhetorical cover for ordinary greed that is nowadays structurally channeled into taking this strange form.
""It's so seductive to say 'I'll start over' rather than just pay my taxes," said Sarah Moser, a McGill University professor studying these projects... "Then they present themselves as a beacon of hope for humanity." She and her research colleagues came to describe this philosophy as 'unicorn planning'."
This is another way of phrasing Fredric Jameson's observation that "all class consciousness of whatever type is Utopian insofar as it expresses the unity of a collectivity"; even the anarcho-capitalist dreams of an impossibly out-of-touch billionaire class necessarily take the form of a hopeful vision for the future. It's important to take the right lessons from this. The Unicorn Planning vision of Utopia, while on its face a complete lie, is built on the reality of the human value of the data that our cities produce. Sideways is a call for our institutions to take responsibility for the stewardship of this resource, resist privatization, and project a competing vision of what is possible.