How does high-speed rail strengthen communities?

When it comes to passenger rail, North America is moving at much slower speeds than most of the developed world. But that may soon change. Several groups across the continent are planning to connect cities tied together by region and economy with high-speed rail—specialized passenger trains that run on dedicated tracks at cruising speeds of up to 220 miles per hour.

To highlight just one, consider Cascadia Rail. The State of Washington, with support from Oregon, the Province of British Columbia, and a host of private companies located in the region, want to build a high-speed rail line linking the 345-mile Cascadia Innovation Corridor, which spans Vancouver, British Columbia; Seattle, Washington; and Portland, Oregon. Boosters say it could swiftly and safely cycle 32,000 people an hour through its various stations. This would be a welcome pressure release on the traffic sure to accompany the 4 million people the Washington State Department of Transportation expects to move to the area in the next few decades.

While high-speed rail doesn’t entirely reinvent passenger train travel, there are unique considerations that come along with developing these projects. “Cascadia follows along with the 35 or 40 years of work that have been going on in the region,” says Oregon Metro Council President Lynn Peterson, including existing light rail and high-density, mixed-use stations. “The difference is, the higher the speed, the longer the spacing between stations, and the more volume coming off. So, you’re trying to accommodate what you can do with the land use on a scale that’s, well, different.”

Stakeholders in the U.S. and Canada are looking globally for inspiration on how to navigate that difference. According to the nonprofit High Speed Rail Alliance, there are currently over 28,000 miles of high-speed rail line in over 20 countries, mostly in Europe and Asia.

It all got started in 1964 with the construction of Japan’s Shinkansen line, which connects Tokyo and Osaka via elegant expanses of prestressed concrete ties and mile-long sections of track that enable the train to achieve extraordinary speeds. In the UK, it’s possible to dash through the Chunnel to Paris via 2007’s Channel Tunnel Rail Link, then whisk around Europe via high-speed rails, even burrowing through the Alps at the Gotthard Base Tunnel in Switzerland. China, meanwhile, has spent the 21st Century connecting all its megacities with futuristic takes on Japan’s bullet train. And there are many more, each offering unique models of how to successfully develop a high-speed rail network.

Investment in similar infrastructure in North America is just now starting to pick up steam. In 2023, the Biden Administration awarded the California High-Speed Rail Authority $3.07 billion for construction of the initial segment of a link-up between San Francisco and Los Angeles, due for completion in the 2030s. The private company Brightline has already completed a “higher-speed” rail system in Florida, connecting Orlando and Miami; and last April, after receiving a $3 billion investment from the federal government, they broke ground on a 200-mph rail system between Las Vegas and Southern California. Amtrak recently refueled the Texas Central Railway plan to introduce Shinkansen-style trains between Dallas and Houston. And even the existing Acela lines on the Northeast Corridor are on track to accelerate: the CONNECT NEC plan—a collaboration between state and federal governments, some nine commuter rail agencies, and Amtrak itself—aims to peel an hour off the Boston-to-Washington, D.C. trip by 2035, thanks to an extensive reinvestment plan.

Commuter needs are driving these projects. They offer ways for individuals and families to organize their work-life balance with a little more freedom. Cascadia Rail, for example, promises to reduce the commute time between downtown Seattle and Tacoma from 90 minutes by car to 15 minutes by train. Calculated over a year, that time savings would amount to 33 days sitting in traffic compared to six days riding in a train.

There are also environmental benefits. On average, when a high-speed rail line opens, it reduces cars on the road by 40% and air travel by 50%, replacing these emissions-intensive modes of transport with electric trains, which can be powered with sustainable energy sources. Cascadia estimates that its project would reduce yearly carbon emissions by 6 million tons.

While the benefits to ecology and human quality of life are undeniable, stations also have the potential to revitalize under-resourced communities and downtowns that haven’t bounced back from the pandemic. On the other hand, for safety, high-speed rail lines are typically lifted in viaducts, and, as with elevated highways, can create unused space beneath the tracks that divides communities.

Peterson is advocating for scenario planning focused on understanding how such an investment could best complement land use, catalyze job creation, and create much needed housing in the Portland metro region. These efforts point to the big questions facing the ethical, successful siting of high-speed rail stations generally: Is it better to place them in areas where businesses are already flourishing? Or near educational complexes? Will more value be added by locations in rural areas that haven’t been developed, bustling suburban zones, or congested urban areas currently navigating both gentrification and exodus?

The one thing that Peterson is certain of now is that there should be no repeat of the mistakes and iniquities of 20th century urban highway planning. “We can’t just plow another interstate right through our Black community as prior generations did,” she says. “The consequences of that are still felt to this day. A lot of folks had to move out because of that. We’re not doing that again.”

As these concerns make clear, the least interesting thing about high-speed rail is the technology that fuels it, which, after all, is more than half a century old. The interesting thing is the potential this form of transportation has to reshape communities for the better, if the many variables are properly balanced. “It could be a transporter from Star Trek, and it still doesn’t matter,” Peterson says with a laugh. “You have to deal with volume, with access, with affordability. You’re focusing attention on this portion of your region, and the question is: What do you want to do?”