Ever wondered why Nanaimo feels the way it does? I did. A lot.
When I arrived here five months ago from Nepal, I was struck by the beautiful eeriness that Nanaimo is. An endless string of single-family houses beaded together by empty streets. Desolate downtown. Silent neighbourhoods, beautiful houses, perfectly manicured lots, empty porches, lifeless lawns, strangely devoid of people. Just some judgmental cats initiating a staring competition. No corner stores, no café by the bus stop. But cars – cars speeding by on wide roads, possibly heading to the one of those islands of big boxes in the sea of parking. It felt like a post-apocalyptic fever dream.
Why does Nanaimo feel so scattered and disjointed? Why does it lack vitality and liveliness? Why is everyday life so inconvenient? It turns out, this is by design.
The culprit? Euclidean zoning: an outdated planning model that has shaped Nanaimo into this disconnected, unwalkable, car-dependent city.
Zoning determines what can be built and where. Like most North American cities, Nanaimo follows Euclidean zoning, inherited from the early 20th century, which rigidly separates land uses into distinct zones like single-family residential, retail/commercial or industrial, among others. Originally designed to keep industry and pollution away from homes, it has since become the great divider, isolating daily necessities from where people live.
Take my neighbourhood: the stretch between Milton Street and Pine Street is zoned as R14 Old City low-density residential. This essentially turns it into a bedroom community. Want a coffee? Drive. Need groceries? Drive. Going to work? Drive.
Because this system over-regulates density, lot sizes and setbacks, it discourages the kind of housing that could ease the housing crisis. It creates an urban landscape where community interaction is minimal and car dependency is a necessity, contributing to sedentary lifestyles.
Even though Nanaimo attempts to fix these issues through comprehensive development zones and design guidelines, they merely patch a broken system. Recognizing these sort of failures, North Vancouver took a bold step in 2023, calling Euclidean zoning “cumbersome and antiquated” and launching efforts to replace it with something better: form-based codes.
Unlike Euclidean zoning, form-based codes prioritize the design, character and functions of neighbourhoods. FBCs integrate homes, business and workplaces into vibrant, compact, walkable and harmonious neighbourhoods where people can live, work and gather without a car. Daily needs are within reach. No more 13-kilometre ordeal for two tomatoes.
FBCs are tailored to local context and vision, hence resulting in the features and characters that community members cherish. They promote adaptive reuse of vacant or underused buildings and lots, encouraging organic, small-scale development. This ignites life and activity in the suburbs as well as in the downtown.
Imagine Nanaimo seriously reconsiders retiring Euclidean zoning. You have a thriving home business. Three houses down, there’s a grocery and a café. On your way, you chat with Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy tending vegetables in the front yard. Crafty Mrs. Selby is converting her old storefront into a pottery studio. Kids race to Miss Milton’s ice cream shop, a newly added unit on her lot. No weekly trips to north Nanaimo. Your car sits rarely used.
See what happens? The city comes alive. The silent epidemic of urban isolation begins to heal. A totally different world unfolds.
Form-based codes offer a way forward, transforming zoning from an obstacle into an opportunity. It’s high time for Nanaimo to move past a broken system and be a vibrant jewel shining by the Salish Sea.
Kiran KC is a master of community planning student at VIU.
