The High Cost of Safetyism, Overregulation, and Siloed Experts

Hi! I’m Austin, Founder of Building Culture. I’m building a holistic real estate development company from the ground up, with a mission to create a more beautiful, resilient, and thriving world through the built environment.

Optimizing for the Wrong Thing

Elon Musk often highlights that the biggest mistake he sees smart engineers make is optimizing features that shouldn't exist in the first place. They get stuck in the details and miss the bigger picture.

Now imagine what happens when narrow-minded specialists—who neither build anything themselves nor have to live by the rules they create—are put in charge of writing incredibly complex building codes and regulations. These codes must attempt to balance hundreds of variables, each with its own tradeoffs. But the people making the rules don’t understand those tradeoffs.

Add in conflicts of interest and misaligned incentives, and it’s no surprise we’ve ended up with the mess we have today. We keep “optimizing” the rules—that is layering on complexity and regulation—to solve the wrong problems.

Here’s a striking example: did you know elevators in the U.S. cost three to five times more than those in Europe? It’s not due to American exceptionalism, I can assure you.

And for all our talk about accessibility, what are the results? America has fewer elevators per capita than any European nation—by a lot.

Zoning often gets the spotlight, but building codes quietly dictate how our cities look, function, and feel. Each year, complexity and bureaucracy only pile up—never simplifying. Driven by lobbyists, industry interests, and ‘experts’, our regulatory environment becomes more convoluted and detached from the real world.

Experts Like to Expert

What should be a holistic approach—centered on a vision for the kinds of cities and neighborhoods we want—is instead a hyper-segregated process. Parties jockey for their narrow expertise or interest, with little regard for the broader set of tradeoffs that must be balanced.

The result? A labyrinth of modern building codes that too often make our cities less safe, less attractive, less vibrant, and ultimately, less human.

These codes don’t just dictate how we build—they dictate what gets built. Where are the small apartments, office buildings, and main street typologies? They’re either illegal or so cost-prohibitive that they simply don’t pencil—and therefore don’t get built.

We’ve experienced this firsthand with our Townsend project.

Despite zoning already in place, it took us 18 months to get fully entitled. Even now, we’re still navigating building code issues around fire safety and accessibility—rules that make sense for a 500-unit apartment complex, but not for two-story townhomes or small office buildings.

It’s become eminently clear to me: codes aren’t written for human-scale developments. They’re tailored primarily for single-family homes (under the IRC) or large buildings of five stories or more (under the IBC), leaving the middle ground entirely out.

To build something like Townsend, you have to have incredible conviction, take significant risks, and endure immense frustration.

This shouldn’t be the case. Why aren’t we making it easier to build the kinds of development people actually want? Gentle density. Walkable neighborhoods. Neighborly commercial districts. Small apartments. Mixed-use options.

Even when cities abolish exclusionary zoning—a critical step—there’s no sudden boom in great development. That’s partly because building codes remain a massive hurdle.

Elevators: A Case Study in Counterproductive Regulations

On a recent podcast episode (#36), I spoke with Stephen Smith, founder of the Center for Building, about how codes shape our cities. He’s a former journalist and incredibly knowledgeable about the evolution and influence of building codes.

Here’s just one example from our conversation:

Elevators outside the U.S. typically accommodate a wheelchair and one additional person. In the U.S., however, elevators are roughly twice as large—mandated to accommodate both a turning wheelchair and an extended stretcher.

This has major implications:

• Double the size means higher costs: more materials, increased load capacity, heavier mechanical systems, and more complex installation.

• They consume over twice as much leasable space per floor, adding hidden costs.

• The U.S. elevator market operates independently from global markets, with only four major companies: Otis, Schindler, Thyssenkrupp, and KONE.

Add to this the immense influence of the International Union of Elevator Constructors—one of the most powerful unions in the country—and you have an environment of limited competition, stifled innovation, and soaring prices.

Cost comparison:

• ~$36,000 for a basic four-stop elevator in Switzerland

• ~$158,000 for the same in New York

That’s insane! Despite all the regulations intended to promote accessibility, America has significantly fewer elevators per capita:

• U.S: 3 elevators per 1,000 people

• Italy: 17 elevators per 1,000 people

• Greece: 41 elevators per 1,000 people

This disparity can’t be explained by America’s single-family housing pattern alone. It’s a regulatory problem. And the regulations are having the opposite of their intended effect.

How Accessibility Mandates Can Backfire

Here’s an example of how the current system works under U.S. building codes:

• Buildings above three stories require elevators.

• Under the Fair Housing Act (FHA), if a building has four or more units and includes an elevator, all units must meet accessibility standards—not just the ground floor (even if three stories or under).

This means that if you voluntarily add an elevator to a modest 12-unit, three-story building, you’re not only paying $120,000+ for an oversized elevator, you’re also required to make every unit fully accessible. If you didn’t include the elevator, you wouldn’t have to.

The predictable outcome? Developers avoid elevators altogether. They stick to single-family detached housing or go big to justify the cost. Missing middle typologies—gentle density, human-scale apartments, and small offices—get left behind.

So what’s left? Ultra-low-density homes under the IRC, or massive apartment and office buildings under the IBC. But where’s the code for the 6 to 30-unit apartment buildings? The modest mixed-use block? Why are they governed by the same rules as 500-unit high-rises?

The Bigger the Building, the Bigger the Players

All of this nudges development toward centralization: bigger buildings, bigger investors, bigger tenants, and ultimately, faceless, extractionist capital. Not exactly a recipe for community, character, or long-term stewardship.

Listen to the Full Conversation

There’s much more to say here. If this topic interests you, I highly recommend listening to the full episode with Stephen. He’s brilliant and goes deep into the issues.

Did you know the International Code Council (ICC)—the body that writes our codes—isn’t truly international? It’s just the U.S. and Canada. And it’s not a public agency—it’s a private nonprofit NGO, largely unaccountable to the public.

I didn’t know that either.

There’s a lot of work to be done. Thankfully, people like Stephen—and a growing community of smart, passionate advocates—are stepping up to meet the challenge.

Stream the full episode now on Desktop, Spotify, Apple, and YouTube.

Until next time!

Austin