In “What Is a Walkable Place? The Walkability Debate in Urban Design,” Ann Forsyth contends that the term “walkability” is vague, because it is used “to refer to several quite different kinds of phenomena” (274). “Some discussions of walkability focus on the means or conditions by which walking is enabled, including areas being traversable, compact, physically enticing, or safe,” she writes. “Others propose that walkability is about the outcomes or performance of such walkable environments, such as making places lively and sociable, enhancing transportation options, or inducing exercise” (274). The term can also be used “as a proxy for better urban places—with some paying attention to walkability being multidimensional and measurable and others proposing that enhancing walkability provides a holistic solution to a variety of urban problems” (274). 

Forsyth’s literature review discusses why this confusion is a problem—she suggests that some of the outcomes of walkability are in conflict—and suggests nine different themes that appear in the various definitions of the term. It then proposes “two approaches to defining walkability that nest into a larger conceptualization of the term”:

First is a minimal definition based on having basic conditions for walking (traversability), combined with closeness and minimal safety. Second, the term walkability can be more clearly specified in terms of purpose. In doing this, scholars and practitioners would also more clearly distinguish between walkability features or means, walkability outcomes, and walkability as a proxy for improved, or at least measurable, place-making. (274-75)

Forsyth also argues that factors other than the physical components of a place need to be considered in discussions of walkability (275). Those factors could include the “pricing of relevant alternatives,” such as automobiles; policies and programs supporting walking; and the preferences, motivations, and demographics of the relevant population (275). While health and transportation typically do consider those issues, they are often left out of urban design (275). The latter point begins to reach towards the notion of a culture of walkability: perhaps I’ve been reading articles from the wrong discipline, although that doesn’t explain why my searches for “walking culture” and “culture of walking” in the library’s databases keep coming up short.

Forsyth contends that a confusion exists between the terms “walkable” and “walkability,” and that those conflicting definitions cause problems: “they affect how people try to create walkable places in practice, measure environmental walkability, and assess the costs and benefits of creating walkable environments. Practitioners and researchers may talk with great conviction about how to make environments walkable, but could well be proposing conflicting solutions” (275). The lack of clarity in these discussions “also makes it difficult to develop a theory to guide practice” (275).

Forsyth searched for the terms “walkability” and “walkable” online to find how those terms are defined (275). That process turned up clusters of definitions. The first cluster “includes themes or dimensions related to the community environment”: ideas of traversability (people can walk from one place to another without “major impediments”), compactness (distances to destinations are short), safety, and physically enticing environments (possessing sidewalks or paths, lighting, pedestrian crossings, and street trees, for instance) (276). Physically enticing environments “may also include interesting architecture, pleasant views and abundant services attractive to those who have other choices for getting around and getting exercise” (276). 

I’ve been toying with the term “density of texture” to describe those aspects of physically enticing environments: places with a density of texture are interesting in multiple ways (cognitively and sensorially). There are things to look at in such spaces, things to smell and taste and hear and touch, things to think about, surprises and novelty. Repeated visits to such places are repaid with new experiences, because they are in a constant state of flux and development. When I lived in Toronto, most of the walks I made were in spaces marked by a high degree of texture density. In the city where I live now, in contrast, the spaces are marked by a relatively low degree of texture density. Texture density in urban spaces is partly a function of population density, but a walk through an aspen bush or an unbroken grassland is also an experience of texture density, because there is so much to experience in those spaces. In contrast, a walk along a grid road lined with fields of canola or wheat is an experience of low texture density. Walks in spaces with low texture density tend to be considered boring, in my experience, and few people would want to walk in such spaces. Of course, this term is only a theory, and it is indebted to Michael Southworth’s notion of “path context” (Southworth 251-52). Perhaps some social scientist will come up with a method of measuring texture density. I’m not a social scientist, so I don’t have to measure texture density, though I know it when I experience it.

According to Forsyth, the second cluster of definitions speak to outcomes of walking. Those definitions see walkable environments as lively and sociable—“pleasant, clean, and full of interesting people”; sustainable; and healthy, because they induce exercise (276). Texture density might include having people to look at and interact with, but it needn’t be defined by pleasantness or cleanliness. A muddy path through a forest would have a high degree of texture density, but it’s not clean, as your boots will tell you when you get home. The final cluster of definitions uses walkability “as a kind of proxy for better design” (276). Those definitions make “very broad claims about outcomes”: they suggest that “walkability is multidimensional in terms of means” and that “these dimensions are measurable” (276). They also can use walkability as a sign of environments that are considered superior—“slower paced, more human scaled, healthier, and happier”—to others (276). 

Forsyth suggests that it’s possible to create a hierarchy out of these nine themes, since the first cluster of definitions tend to be preconditions for those in the second, and that the first and second clusters are combined in the third (276). However, most researchers “instead favor one or two of the definitions, using the same terms (walkable, walkability) to mean quite different things” (276). She also notes that there is a significant overlap between these nine themes, and between walkability itself and related terms, such as “pedestrian-oriented planning or pedestrian-oriented places” (277). 

“Some of the confusion over walkability is because of the issue of purposes and motivations,” Forsyth writes. “Walking can be done for many purposes such as transportation, exercise, and recreation. However, such purposes are often mixed” (277). In addition, “each purpose may have a different underlying motivation. For example, exercise or recreational walking may be done for stress reduction, increasing fitness, losing weight, getting out of the house, meeting people, even to enjoy a beautiful place” (277). Each purpose, and each motivation, one would think, “might be suited by a slightly different kind of walkable place” (277-78). Also, some walking purposes are rarely discussed in the literature on walkability, such as walking in “natural” areas for stress reduction, walking that is incidental to some other purpose (such as the walking done by people waiting on tables), or walking that occurs indoors (278). One could add walking that is carried out because of necessity, such as walking by people too poor to afford a vehicle, or by people who live in a place underserved by transit, or by people too young or too old to drive, or by refugees.

“It is unsurprising then that theories of walking are quite varied,” Forsyth continues (279). While some urban design theories assume that certain physical features of the environment will make people want to walk, “the field of health has created a number of different theories of behavior change, many of which focus on personal characteristics, individual behaviors, and social contexts, with the physical environment only incidental” (279). In that literature, everything—even clothing—is environmental (279). “This is an essential insight—that to create ‘walkable’ places, block and neighborhood designs are not enough in themselves,” Forsyth argues. “Rather, other scales of the environment are also important (for example clothing), and other kinds of strategies need to be enlisted such as programming, pricing, and other policies” (279). Restricting parking, making driving expensive, educating motorists, or providing supports to pedestrians might increase the amount of walking that takes place—that’s certainly one reason why dense urban centres (Toronto, in my experience, or London, in the study conducted by Jemima C. Stockton et al) see more walking trips. “Further, such factors as incomes, individual preferences, cultural values and climate also affect walking,” Forsyth states. Oh! A mention of “cultural values”! I want more of that. One cultural value, of course, is the way that walking is seen as normal, on one hand, or eccentric, on the other.

According to Forsyth, the nine themes in the various definitions of walkability “are reflected in the different kinds of planning and design for walkable environments” (279). Some forms of planning and design concentrate on specific components of the environment, such as sidewalks or crosswalks (279). But at the larger level of the neighbourhood or the city, “two main clusters of approaches contend for dominance”: “the fine-grained multi-functional street pattern seen in compact city, New Urbanist, Jane-Jacobs-inspired, mixed-use, transit oriented approaches that cluster people and destinations close together,” usually in a grid pattern; and, on the other hand, “the various forms of superblocks, where vehicular traffic is kept largely to the outside, or moves through with difficulty, and pedestrians infiltrate the center,” such as college campuses, pedestrianized downtowns, and various Modernist designs (279-80). Those two solutions are very different from each other, which leads Forsyth to conclude that “a walkable place is a complex and contested phenomenon” (280). The next section of the article “unpacks some of that complexity” (280).

First, Forsyth tackles the cluster of definitions related to conditions or means. Walkability in the sense of traversable “is about the very basic physical infrastructure to get from one place to another,” about whether “there is a continuous path with some reasonable surface and no major hazards” (280). What is considered traversable will depend on the walker’s age, preferences, whether the walker is encumbered with packages or pushing a stroller, the walker’s level of disability, the weather, time of day, the destination’s attractiveness, the perceived safety of the route, the availability of other options, hilliness, among other factors (280). Traversability, compactness, and safety “are related to a key purpose of walking: to get to a destination,” which is “a dominant view in transportation and an intuitive and commonsense definition” (280).

Compactness or closeness is related to traversability but different: they refer to walkability in terms of distance—whether “destinations are close enough to get to in a reasonable time on foot” (280). Of course, what’s a reasonable time will differ from person to person and from place to place. In any case, Forsyth suggests that a compact place—“with a high density or proximity of destinations and people”—will be considered walkable (280). Compactness also suggests “having an intensity of activities or destinations,” but it also requires “relatively direct and passable routes between those destinations (also raised in the prior theme)” (281). “Thus definitions of walkability as compactness often go beyond distance to include some combination of residential density and land use mixture along with a measure of connectivity (block size, intersection density, measures of gridded versus cul-de-sac street patterns, and the quality of paths),” Forsyth writes. However these definitions raise questions: “how compact a place needs to be and how close the destinations vary with a number of characteristics related to culture, perceptions, and the level of attraction of the destination(s), and the ability to pay for alternative modes of transportation” (281). Look! Another reference to culture! Besides, this definition is “biased toward walking for transportation,” rather than for recreation (281).

Next is safety. A lack of safety, both from crime and from traffic, Forsyth notes, is a barrier to walking (281). Both crime and traffic are important, but Forsyth focuses on traffic. “A Walkable environment in terms of traffic safety has some combination of low traffic volumes or protection for pedestrians (buffers, signalized crosswalks, traffic calming and the like),” she writes (282). This city has many crosswalks without signals of any kind, which are dangerous for pedestrians. Safety is important; according to Forsyth, some authors think it should be placed at the base of the hierarchy of walkability (282).

However, a walkable place “is often defined as something more than just traversable, compact, and safe”: it is also often considered a place “rich in pedestrian-oriented infrastructure, including wide and well-maintained sidewalks, active street frontages, traffic calming measures, street trees and vegetated buffers, marked and signalized pedestrian crossings, benches, way-finding signage, and pedestrian-scaled lighting” (282). These measures of a place being physically enticing, Forsyth’s fourth theme, include the other themes, particularly traversability and safety. Being physically enticing, though, ought to focus on the place being interesting as well as convenient—on the way it draws people to walk (282). Being physically enticing can also include the way a place enables sociability (282). This definition is important in “the media and design professions,” and it “assumes people are motivated to walk by certain forms of design—something that may be more true for some demographic groups, walking purposes, and regional locations” (283). 

The next cluster of themes focuses on outcomes (283). “Walking for socializing or just to be out and about in a lively environment near other people has a long history—for example, window shopping or promenading,” Forsyth writes. “In these definitions, when someone says they are improving walkability, or that a place is very walkable, they are referring to a general sense of liveliness, vitality, sociability, or vibrancy” (283). These features could be part of what I’ve been calling texture density, rightly or wrongly, although a walk alone in a forest would also be an experience of texture density, just like a stroll along the Ramblas in Barcelona. The literature that uses this definition of walkability proposes “that more walkable places have higher social capital or provide mental health benefits from interaction,” yet other writers argue that liveliness and walkability are different and need to be treated as such (283). Nevertheless, Forsyth states, “there is a great deal of overlap” between liveliness and walkability (283).

Another theme that focuses on outcomes is the notion of walkability being defined as a sustainable transportation option (283). Walkability is proposed as an alternative to the private automobile (283). Sustainability, Forsyth suggests, “is a complex outcome” and “may also be one of the many dimensions in a more holistic definition” (284).

The last outcome-oriented theme involves the extent to which a walkable environment induces people to exercise as part of their daily routine (284). But what counts as a walkable environment according to this theme isn’t the same for every person, purpose, or place (284). “A core interest in this literature is whether the increased transportation walking that people undertake in some kinds of more walkable locations can translate into increased overall physical activity,” Forsyth writes. “The results are complex. People certainly walk more for transportation in places with higher densities and accessible destinations,” and that may modestly increase physical activity (284). However, she notes that there may also be a self-selection bias at work, where people who want to walk move to places they consider walkable, which would magnify the effects of the environment (284). Also, it’s not clear that walking reduces obesity (284).

“The final set of definitions use walkability as a term to represent places that are complex and well-designed,” Forsyth continues (284). Multidimensionality and measurability is “a complex theme that obviously builds on prior categories” (284). The focus on measurability has “become a thriving industry among researchers, practitioners, and the wider public” (284). Many of the indices and measures used to measure walkability focus on walking for transportation, but some include recreational walking and transportation as well (285).

The last cluster of definitions uses walkability as “a proxy for better environments that generate investment, are more sustainable (in economic and social terms as well as environmental), and that are generally good places to be” (285). Such definitions can be objected to as too broad, but “they are commonly in use and are also the definitions most likely to stress the economic growth potential of walkability” (285). Thus, “this kind of walkability is an indicator of better urban areas that attract redevelopment, population increase and have high livability” (286). “It also avoids the question of incompatible outcomes of walkability, for example, if walkable places have higher housing costs they may have less vibrancy,” Forsyth suggests (286).

In her conclusion, Forsyth calls for “clear, shared definitions” of walkability “to foster dialog and understanding” (286). That might mean creating “a minimal definition of physical walkability focused on path condition/traversability and closeness with some basic level of safety” as “the core requirements for walking” (286). It might mean using “specific terms for different kinds of walkable places related either to features (for example compact) or to outcomes (for example exercise-supporting places)” (286). And it might mean developing “a comprehensive definition that moves beyond the kind of physical place that supports walking to also consider policies, programs, pricing and people (demographics, preferences, perceptions and so on)” (286). That definition might be more holistic but it would also be very complex.

Forsyth goes on to discuss how all of this affects the field of urban design. I’m not interested in that issue—I’m more interested in walking in the city I’ve got, not the city I’d like to have but never will—so I skipped that section and landed on her final thoughts. “Better defining walkability has several benefits,” she states: it would show “that walkable environments are not all the same,” it would illustrate “the biases and assumptions in some popular definitions of walkability,” it would demonstrate “that walkable environments for transportation and recreation purposes sometimes overlap but often do not,” and it would highlight the fact that “while walkability is defined in multiple ways, some major purposes of walking—such as restoration and walking that is incidental to other activities—are not well covered by such definitions and risk being left out of debates” (288). She calls on urban designers and others interested in walkability to “be more conscious about definitions” and to consider the “multiple dimensions” of walking and of walkability (288).

What is useful about this article? The two mentions of culture suggest that walking culture might be a thing, or that culture affects walking and whether people consider a place to be walkable or not. It also suggests the complexity of ideas about walkability. There is also a lengthy bibliography, but I can’t keep reading about walkability forever. Forsyth’s call for clearer definitions of walkability are unlikely to go anywhere, though, since the other terms she complains about as lacking specificity—community, culture, neighbourhood, suburbs—remain indistinct. Complex ideas often are expressed in multiple ways, and that multiplicity can lead to a lack of clarity. Such is life.

Works Cited

Forsyth, Ann. “What Is a Walkable Place? The Walkability Debate in Urban Design.” Urban Design International, vol. 20, no. 4, 2015, pp. 274-92. DOI: 10.1057/udi.2015.22.

Southworth, Michael. “Designing the Walkable City.” Journal of Urban Planning and Development, vol. 131, no. 4, 2005, pp. 246-57. DOI: 10.0161/(ASCE)0733-9488(2005)131:4(246).

Stockton, Jemima C. Oliver Duke-Williams, Emmanuel Stamatakis, Jennifer S. Mindell, Eric J. Brunner, and Nicola J. Shelton. “Development of a Novel Walkability Index for London, United Kingdom: Cross-sectional Application to the Whitehall II Study. ” BMC Public Health, vol. 16, no. 416, pp. 1-12. DOI: 10.1186/s12889-016-3012-12.