The recent backlash against automated municipal cameras offers a useful reminder about technology and government. The cameras may have legitimate public-safety uses, but many residents did not learn the extent of their capabilities, the information being retained, or the reach of the larger data-sharing network until after the systems were operating.
That sequence matters. Once public concern takes hold, explanations about safeguards and good intentions often arrive too late. The issue stops being simply whether the technology is useful and becomes a broader question: Who authorized this, who controls the information, and what prevents it from being used for an entirely different purpose tomorrow?
Those same questions helped sink one of the most ambitious municipal technology projects ever proposed—the Sidewalk Labs “smart city” planned for Toronto’s waterfront.
I recently came across the project in a New York Times profile of political scientist Francis Fukuyama, who was using its failure as the subject of a class. Although I was generally familiar with the term “smart city,” I had not followed the Toronto project closely. Its rise and fall present an interesting lesson in the limits of technology, public-private partnerships, and corporate involvement in municipal government.
A City Built Around Data
In 2017, Waterfront Toronto selected Sidewalk Labs, a subsidiary of Google’s parent company, Alphabet, to develop a plan for Quayside, a largely undeveloped 12-acre parcel on Toronto’s waterfront.
Sidewalk Labs was led by Dan Doctoroff, a former New York City deputy mayor. Its proposal was far more ambitious than installing wireless internet or synchronizing traffic signals. The company envisioned building a neighborhood in which technology, buildings, streets, transportation, energy systems, and public spaces would operate as parts of a single integrated system.
The proposal included mass-timber buildings, underground freight delivery and waste collection, energy-efficient utilities, heated pavement, adaptable streets, reduced automobile use, affordable housing, and protected public spaces designed to make outdoor activity possible during Toronto’s winters.
Many of those ideas were thoughtful and potentially valuable. Sidewalk Labs was not simply selling cameras or collecting information for its own sake. It was attempting to rethink how an urban neighborhood could be constructed and operated.
Data, however, was central to the concept. Sensors would measure traffic, pedestrian activity, noise, air quality, energy use, and how people used streets and public spaces. That information would then be analyzed to improve the operation of the neighborhood.
In the abstract, the theory was appealing: measure how a city actually works and use that knowledge to make it work better.
The difficulty was that a city is not merely an engineering problem.
When a Pilot Project Becomes a New System of Government
The original assignment involved the 12-acre Quayside parcel. Sidewalk’s eventual master plan, released in 2019, ran more than 1,500 pages and contemplated an “IDEA District” covering a much larger portion of the waterfront.
There was an economic reason for that expansion. Many of the proposed systems—including specialized infrastructure, district energy, mass-timber production and new transportation arrangements—were difficult to justify on only 12 acres. Sidewalk needed greater scale to make the economics work.
That created a fundamental contradiction. Quayside had been presented as a manageable demonstration project, but the demonstration was apparently too small to support the promised innovation.
The project also required much more governmental action than the original selection process suggested. Sidewalk needed zoning approvals, public infrastructure, transit investment, access to additional land, changes to construction and transportation rules, and an entirely new framework for the collection and use of data in public places.
Waterfront Toronto could coordinate development, but it could not independently make all those commitments. Authority remained divided among the City of Toronto, the Province of Ontario, the Canadian government, and other public entities.
As the proposal expanded, Sidewalk increasingly appeared to be doing more than designing a neighborhood. It was proposing the rules under which the neighborhood would be governed.
That was the point at which an innovative development proposal began to look, at least to its critics, like the partial privatization of municipal authority.
The Privacy Issue
The most visible controversy involved privacy and the use of what Sidewalk called “urban data.”
The phrase itself revealed the difficulty. Was information collected in a public place the property of the individual, the city, the company operating the sensor, or the public generally? Who could authorize its use? Could a person meaningfully consent to information collection merely by walking down a public street?
Sidewalk proposed an independent data trust to review the collection and use of information. It also promised substantial privacy protections. But that did not completely resolve the concern. Sidewalk, the private company seeking permission to collect and use the information, was also helping design the institution that would regulate it.
Ann Cavoukian, a former Ontario privacy commissioner who had advised Sidewalk, resigned after the company could not guarantee that every third party operating within the district would anonymize information at the point of collection.
Even anonymization was not a complete answer. Large collections of location and behavioral information can sometimes be connected with other records and traced back to particular individuals. Information can also be used to categorize neighborhoods or groups without attaching a name to any one person.
The controversy therefore became larger than conventional privacy. It concerned control: whether a private technology company should occupy a privileged position in observing, modeling and ultimately influencing public life.
That is the clearest connection to the current debate over municipal camera systems. License-plate readers can help locate stolen vehicles and persons wanted for serious crimes. But their usefulness does not settle the question of whether every passing vehicle should be recorded, how long the information should be retained, who may search it, or how widely it may be shared.
The lesson in both cases is not that government must reject useful technology. It is that public rules must precede technological deployment. Privacy policies developed after controversy begins are rarely as reassuring as clear limits adopted beforehand.
Did COVID Kill the Project?
Sidewalk Labs withdrew from Quayside in May 2020. Doctoroff cited the economic uncertainty created by COVID-19 and said it had become impossible to make the 12-acre project financially viable without sacrificing essential parts of the plan.
That explanation was undoubtedly true, but incomplete.
The project was already struggling before COVID. Its scope had expanded well beyond the original site. The parties were divided over financing, land, intellectual property, public infrastructure, data governance, and the extent of Sidewalk’s authority. Waterfront Toronto had required significant modifications to the proposal before it would move forward.
COVID provided the final economic blow—and perhaps a graceful exit—but it did not create the project’s central problems.
The foundational mistake had occurred at the beginning. Waterfront Toronto selected an innovative private partner before government had adequately established the boundaries within which innovation would be allowed. The parties then attempted to determine questions of public authority, privacy, financing, and ownership while the private partner was already designing the project.
By then, every proposed safeguard looked like a restriction on the original vision, while every request from Sidewalk looked like another expansion of corporate power.
What Happened to Quayside?
The failure of Sidewalk Labs did not end development of the waterfront. Toronto returned to a much more conventional process.
In 2021, Waterfront Toronto issued a new request for qualifications, followed by a request for proposals. A partnership led by Canadian developers Dream Unlimited and Great Gulf Group was selected in 2022. The public agency retained responsibility for the public realm and infrastructure, while the private developers were assigned the more recognizable role of developing the buildings.
The current plan is still ambitious, but it is ambitious in a different way. The first phase calls for 553 affordable rental homes, 1,129 purpose-built market rental units, approximately 1,168 condominiums, a community forest, childcare, a community hub, pedestrian and bicycle improvements, and a zero-carbon energy approach. Site preparation and infrastructure work began in 2026, with the first residents expected around 2031.
Some of the better ideas associated with the original project survived: environmental sustainability, reduced dependence on automobiles, attractive public spaces, mixed-income housing and modern energy systems.
What disappeared was the idea that the neighborhood should operate as a privately designed digital platform.
That outcome is significant. Quayside did not need to become a corporate technology experiment in order to become a modern and environmentally advanced neighborhood. The physical development survived after the grander theory of the “smart city” was removed.
The Municipal Lesson
Sidewalk Labs viewed the city primarily as a collection of systems that could be measured and optimized. Traffic was an allocation problem. Energy was an efficiency problem. Streets were flexible platforms. Data would show how people behaved, and the city could be adjusted accordingly.
Municipal government operates in a more difficult environment. Better information can help officials understand the likely effects of a decision, but it cannot decide which values should prevail, who should bear the cost, or how much government observation the public should be required to accept.
Those are political judgments. They must be made through institutions that remain publicly accountable.
That is also why the controversy over municipal cameras should not be dismissed as a conflict between people who favor public safety and people who fear technology. The most important questions concern governance: the limits on collection, retention, access and sharing—and whether those limits can be changed without the public knowing.
The failure of Sidewalk Labs does not prove that technology has no place in municipal government. It proves nearly the opposite. Technology will become increasingly important to transportation, public safety, infrastructure, energy use and the delivery of public services.
But governmental legitimacy cannot be installed after the equipment is turned on.
The public needs to know what the technology does, what it does not do, who controls it, and what enforceable rules will remain in place after the original officials and vendors are gone. Toronto learned that lesson through an enormous project that never made it out of the planning stage.
Other municipalities have the opportunity to learn it before making the same mistake.
The announcement of the collapse of the Sidewalk Labs Project
The Ontario Auditor General’s Report on Waterfront Toronto
Where The Sidewalk Ends: The Governance Of Waterfront Toronto’s Sidewalk Labs Deal
The Axios Story on Massachusetts License Plate Readers
He Has the People: Abraham Lincoln and the Election of 1860
Blood and Ruins: The Great Imperial War, 1931-1945

