Metropolis

A Bold Move to Help Fix the Housing Crisis Just Happened in an Unexpected Place

A quiet reform in Texas could open the doors to more homes, lower rent, and a different kind of growth.

Illuminated colorful downtown buildings in the Dallas city skyline.
Jaclyne Ortiz/iStock/Getty Images Plus

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Even casual observers of America’s NIMBY wars will be familiar with the dog-eared playbook of reforms that pro-growth politicians are now deploying to boost the supply of homes: Ending single-family zoning, banning parking requirements, permitting mini-houses (or Accessory Dwelling Units) in the backyard.

How about redoing the building code to make it possible to construct small apartment buildings like single-family homes—that is, quickly and cheaply? That’s what the Dallas City Council passed on Wednesday afternoon, making Dallas the first city in the country with a special set of rules for small apartment buildings—those that are smaller than 7,500 square feet and have eight units or fewer.

Those types of buildings, with regional variations that include Boston’s triple-deckers, Chicago’s three-flats, and L.A.’s dingbats, are often similar in size to large single-family homes. But they are in awfully short supply, thwarted by a gauntlet of restrictive land use laws—hence the nickname “missing middle.”

In Dallas, a developer, attorney, and former council member named Philip Kingston hit on a new snag that seemed to be holding back those little buildings—even where they were otherwise permitted by zoning. A few years ago, Kingston was cutting his teeth as an infill developer when he found himself getting outbid for small properties, only to see them transformed into fancy, two-family homes. “I was thinking, why are their numbers not matching mine? I can build six units,” he said. He estimated the city has lost a thousand units of housing to these “underbuilt” sites.

The problem, he concluded, was that the duplex guys were playing by a different set of rules—a Dallas building code adopted from the IRC, or International Residential Code, the country’s model code for single-family houses. If you wanted to build three or four units, however, you were working under the IBC, or International Building Code, which governs the construction of everything from a three-flat to a commercial skyscraper.

The IBC—which, contrary to the name, is a mostly American institution—has recently come under fire as a hidden force shaping architecture and driving up housing costs in U.S. cities. One of its most controversial requirements is that small buildings have every apartment accessible by two staircases. There’s no evidence that design makes apartments safer in a fire, but it does stop small pieces of land from turning into homes, and many cities and states have passed rules to revise that piece of the code. At Kingston’s urging, Dallas has gone a step further.

Council member Chad West, a co-sponsor of the Dallas bill, has for years warned that the Texas boomtown is risking its reputation as an affordable place to live: “If we don’t want to end up like Seattle or Portland or San Francisco, or priced out like New York City, we’ve got to do something different in the city of Dallas and we have to start being proactive about it now,” West said in 2023. The results of his efforts have been a mixed bag; Texans love their freedom but they love single-family zoning even more. The region is growing rapidly, but mostly through sprawl many miles from the core.

Nevertheless, after several years of work with city staff, the new one-to-eight family code passed easily. “I try to make decisions based on data, and I haven’t seen evidence that the enhanced security measures [in the IBC] are needed,” West said. “More safety is always better, but at some point, you can’t live your life in a bubble and you have to consider cost considerations.” Building codes are written in blood, the expression goes—but perhaps they can be revised in green. Later this spring, the International Code Council, which writes the IBC and IRC, will consider including triplexes and quadplexes in the residential code—meaning that some of the changes in Dallas could go nationwide in a few years.

Kingston’s view is that the costs of the higher-caliber IBC go well beyond a second staircase. The “commercial” code includes studies of drainage, electrical load, and other design specifications that both cost money to execute and take up time to go over with city staff (who themselves may be more familiar with the residential code). Many architects and engineers in the sprawling Dallas area, he noted, don’t even work with the IBC. “There are house architects and multifamily architects. It’s a bright line. There are no architects who want to do an eight-unit complex.”

He drew inspiration from Canada, which permits a lower design standard for small residential buildings under three stories—not requiring a sprinkler system, for example. That does make life easier for small builders in Canada, though the hard cutoff at three stories distorts what gets built in its own way, said Conrad Speckert, a Canadian architect and student of the code. “In Canada you don’t see a lot of four-story buildings, even if the zoning allows it. In many cases it remains more feasible to build three stories because of the construction costs, consulting, and complexity that come with that scale jump.”

The overwhelming concern is fire safety. The first U.S. city to try smuggling apartment buildings into the single-family code was Memphis, which decided to do so for buildings of three to six units in 2021 in response to a plan by Opticos Design (whose founder, Daniel Parolek, coined the expression “missing middle”).

“There is very little market activity,” John Zeanah, the Memphis and Shelby County director of planning and development, told me. “A lot of neighborhoods need new housing, a lot of neighborhoods need subsidy. We needed to think about not just what zoning barriers needed to be rolled back, but what the cost of delivering that product was.” The regulatory wall between two and three units seemed like a natural place to focus.

But the Tennessee fire marshal did not agree. Despite two years of conversations between Memphis planners and state fire officials, the state would not budge. In the end, Memphis settled for a new state law last year that exempts buildings of three-to-four units from sprinkler requirements and allows buildings up to six stories to have a single staircase.

In Dallas, the city settled on a fire safety compromise—one- and two-hour firewalls between units. Is this new code the magic bullet that will create infill housing abundance in Dallas? Probably not. But at least one developer will be taking advantage: Kingston himself. He’s looking forward to a city with more small apartment buildings and fewer luxury duplexes and McMansions. More places for people to live, in neighborhoods that already have jobs, schools, and shops, perhaps even in the place of sprawl on the edge of town. And if it’s a little easier to hear the neighbors through the walls, well, you get what you pay for. “Affordable infill, green building,” Kingston said. “We’re trying to get into heaven like everyone else.”