For decades, North America’s suburbs have been defined by sprawl: wide roads, single-use zoning and a built-in reliance on driving for even the most basic needs. In the 1980s and ’90s, a group of planners and architects launched a response, New Urbanism.

New Urbanism set out to fix the postwar suburb by reintroducing the walkable, mixed-use neighbourhoods many remembered from earlier generations. Inspired by historic small towns and pre-war streetcar suburbs, it emphasized grid-like street networks, front porches, main streets and civic squares.

Its promise was clear: build places that feel more like real communities and less like disconnected subdivisions.

The idea caught on. Not only did it offer a visually appealing alternative, but it also resonated with residents who wanted neighbourhoods with more character and connection.

And for a while, New Urbanist projects -from Seaside, Fla., to Kentlands, Md. - became proof that a better suburb was possible.

But several decades later, New Urbanism’s limitations are becoming clear.

A movement rooted in the past

New Urbanism relies on a physical form rooted in places that were never built all at once.

Historic small towns evolved over time, responding to real patterns of mobility, commerce, and population growth. People walked because they had no other option. Local businesses thrived because they were serving a population that had to shop and socialize locally.

New Urbanist developments, by contrast, are often built quickly and all at once - dropping a fully formed traditional town into a modern, car-dependent context. That context matters.

In most new communities today, transit is limited or nonexistent. Driving is the norm, and most residents will rely on their cars for daily life, no matter how well the community is designed for walking.

This creates a tension between form and function.

For example, New Urbanist street layouts often include rear laneways to hide driveways and garages, allowing for continuous front porches and uninterrupted sidewalks. But in practice, these laneways double infrastructure costs and often end up becoming the default entry point.

The “back” becomes the “front,” undermining the intended walkability and sense of community. If most people drive and park in the rear, what was designed to be the public realm - those walkable, welcoming frontages - loses its purpose.

The hidden costs of urbanist design

Another issue is cost.

The infrastructure required to support a New Urbanist plan including laneways, civic spaces, parks and upgraded streetscapes, adds significant expense. These aren't just aesthetic choices; they are financial decisions that increase the cost of development and, ultimately, the cost of housing.

As a result, many New Urbanist projects are limited to the higher end of the market. They become boutique solutions - often gated, often premium-priced - not models that can scale to meet the broader housing needs of growing cities. The very things that make them beautiful can also make them inaccessible.

This creates a contradiction: A movement born out of a desire to improve suburban form ends up producing places that are only viable for a small segment of buyers. If the goal is to shift the mainstream suburban model, that’s a problem.

Planning for the way people actually live

What New Urbanism often misses is that conditions today are fundamentally different from the conditions that produced the places it seeks to emulate.

Historic small towns were built in an era when walkability wasn’t a value, it was a necessity. Residents didn’t need parks built into every block because green space was everywhere. They didn’t need design guidelines to tell them where to put their porches or how to shape a corner retail building; these forms evolved naturally through need and use.

Today, the equation has flipped.

People can drive. They often prefer to drive. And developers need to build quickly, affordably, and at scale.

Trying to replicate old forms without the old context leads to confusion. The forms become symbols—nostalgic references—rather than functional pieces of a working neighbourhood.

Worse, some elements of New Urbanism actively contradict today’s realities. For example, when commercial streets are built under the assumption that people will walk to them, but most customers arrive by car, they risk underperforming. The design may prioritize pedestrians, but if 90 per cent of users drive the commercial viability falters, particularly if parking is hidden, awkward, or insufficient.

A call for pragmatism

This doesn’t mean we should give up on the goals of New Urbanism. Walkability, human-scale design and a strong public realm are all essential to good urbanism. But we need to get there differently.

What’s needed now is a more pragmatic approach, one that:

• Accepts that car use is a reality in most new communities and plans accordingly;
• Prioritizes affordability by minimizing infrastructure duplication and costly extras;
• Recognizes that great neighbourhoods grow over time and don’t have to be fully realized from Day One;
• Creates the conditions for walkability without depending on it to carry the whole vision.

That means simplifying where possible.

For example, instead of building laneways and rear garages, front-access parking can be designed in a pedestrian-friendly way, with generous sidewalks, street trees, and short to no driveways at all. Instead of expansive civic greens, smaller parks can be distributed efficiently to provide value without inflating land and servicing costs.

It also means designing for evolution. A neighbourhood that starts with more modest landscaping or surface parking can become greener and more walkable over time as trees grow, habits change and the community matures. Flexibility beats perfection.

Scalable Urbanism

The most important test of any suburban design model is not how lively it looks in renderings. It’s whether it can be built affordably, in real places, at real scale - and still create value and quality of life.

New Urbanism has given us a vision of what’s possible. But it might have become too focused on recreating the past, instead of responding to the present.

If we want to improve the next generation of suburbs - not just for a few, but for the many - we need to design with today’s constraints in mind. That means building the bones of great communities without overloading them at the start.

Urbanism doesn’t need to be perfect, it needs to be practical.