We keep calling for transit-oriented development (TOD) — or transit-oriented communities (TOC), as we say here in Canada, where I practice as an urban designer. Yet, too often, it is still car-oriented development built next to a train, and our cities are missing a golden opportunity.

Despite placing density near rail and rapid transit, we continue to default for wide roads and high parking ratio. In doing so, we dilute the very purpose of transit-oriented development: to shift travel behavior away from the car and toward transit, walking, and cycling.

Instead, imagine this: Narrower streets scaled to people, not vehicles; station areas where housing, shops and public spaces are all connected; daily life where walking to the corner store or cycling to work is the natural choice. A transit-oriented community that feels like a neighborhood first and a transit hub second – where the train station is simply the anchor. A neighborhood where people truly want to live despite giving up the backyard, and where the investment in transit pays off for generations.

Designing for two systems at once

When municipalities or developers say they are “planning TOC,” they frequently mean increasing residential density near stations — while still accommodating car-first street patterns. This split undermines transit itself.

The entire point of transit-oriented development is leverage. Public transportation is expensive to build, so when we have it, we are given the rare opportunity to design neighborhoods of charm and unique atmosphere — something that wide roads and car-oriented layouts can never deliver and pull against that opportunity.

Not all transit-oriented development is created equal. Broadly, there are two contexts for transit investment, and each demands a different approach.

Greenfield development: Here, the challenge is to build a community from scratch around new transit. The opportunity is enormous — street networks, block sizes, and land-use mixes can all be designed to make walking and transit the default from day one. The risk is slipping back into suburban patterns: wide arterials, large lots and parking-heavy design that bakes in car dependence.

Because this site is surrounded by car-dependent communities, the challenge deepens:

1. For residents in immediate proximity to the station, the task is to design the micro-environment so well that opting out of daily car use feels natural.

2. For surrounding suburban neighbors, the goal is to spark reconsideration of their own models — making cycling or walking to the station a realistic alternative to driving.

In other words, success here is not only about preventing car-dependence from being “baked in,” but also about creating a model that can influence the wider suburban landscape.

Urban infill development: In existing neighborhoods, the transit line is woven into an already-built fabric. The priority here is to intensify land use, reduce car space and retrofit streets to be people-first without displacing the qualities that make the community livable. This often requires careful balancing: adding density while re-scaling streets, managing curb space and gradually shifting travel behavior.

Recognizing the difference matters. In greenfields, we have a blank canvas to get it right; in urban infill, we have to be precise and deliberate about shifting the balance away from cars.

Global playbook

Cities worldwide show that when transit is the backbone, everything else — streets, housing, and public space — follows. I’ve seen this firsthand. Visiting three very different contexts shows how each city has put transit at the core.

• Copenhagen’s Finger Plan: Development was concentrated along rail corridors, with deliberate limits on car infrastructure in those corridors. Then, transit became the backbone.

• Singapore’s MRT Station Hubs: Stations aren’t just transit stops but hyper-mixed nodes, stacking housing, retail, offices and services within a short walk. The result is that daily needs cluster around stations, making walking and transit the default and car ownership optional.

• Vienna’s aspern Seestadt: With the 240-hectare new district built on a former airfield, the city flipped the usual order. It extended the U2 metro line before most buildings went up, anchoring the neighborhood around transit rather than cars. The plan combines mid-rise housing, offices, shops and schools with an artificial lake and generous public spaces. Its transport model sets a clear target of 40% of trips by transit, 40% by walking or cycling, and only 20% by private car.

Contrast these with many transit-oriented projects across the U.S. and Canada, where rail stations are fronted by multi-lane roads. These are not mistakes of detail; they are mistakes of intent.

In Toronto, where I live and practice, the tension is especially visible. On the one hand, the public discourse is shifting. People-first design is now part of the conversation, and when these places are done well, they are built to the highest standards: vibrant, walkable, connected. At the same time, all levels of government have invested heavily in new transit — subways, LRT and regional rail upgrades — but too often the areas around stations are still framed by oversized roads.

Vaughan Metropolitan Centre, a suburb north of Toronto and the first to be linked to it by subway, for example, was meant to be a showcase of subway-driven growth. But its wide roads (even the narrowest ones) and parking supply still privilege driving over walking. That makes today’s choices about how we plan around transit not just technical, but generational. Because once the streets are laid out, the blocks are defined, and the buildings go up, the pattern is locked in for decades — shaping how people move, how businesses thrive and how communities grow.

This generation’s choice

Unlike many North American regions where car dependence is a given, growing transit-rich cities can realistically ask people to live with fewer cars.

With billions invested in new subways and LRT, it makes little sense to layer wide roads and oversized parking on top. Instead, we should be designing narrower, more charming streets where walking, cycling and transit are the natural choice because it’s faster and cheaper.

In some locations, that means car-light or even car-free streets, creating neighborhoods that feel safer, more vibrant, and ultimately more valuable. If we fail to take this chance now, we risk locking in another generation of car-oriented urban form right next to the very transit meant to free us from it.

The stakes are clear. Billions are being spent on new lines across North America. If land use around stations is still car-dominated, ridership will underperform and fiscal returns will disappoint. Every square foot of asphalt is land lost to housing, parks or commerce – an unaffordable tradeoff in growing regions. Plus, a transit-oriented community that still funnels residents into cars delivers few emissions reductions and fails to create the walkable, human-scaled environments people increasingly demand.

‘People First,’ not as a slogan but as a framework

Travel choices are rarely about love for the car — they’re about reliability and ease. People drive because it often feels like the simplest option, not because they inherently prefer sitting in traffic. When transit and active transportation are designed to be predictable, safe and convenient, people choose them.

For me, riding my bike (and living car-free) is one of the most reliable ways to get around: I know exactly how long it will take, with no surprises from congestion or delays. That kind of certainty is what makes walking, cycling, and transit competitive — not just as alternatives to driving, but as better options.

For transit-oriented development to succeed, planners, engineers and developers have to move beyond “transit plus cars” models. The very definition should be sharpened: a transit-oriented community is an environment where daily life without a car is not only possible, but easier.

In North America, we don’t get many chances to build new transit. When we do, the responsibility is clear: Every design choice must reinforce people and transit over cars. Otherwise, we risk pouring billions into rail while keeping our cities stuck in traffic.

The vision is straightforward but powerful: neighborhoods where transit stations are true front doors, streets are scaled to people, and walking or cycling to daily needs feels natural.

This post was originally published on Next City.