And the National Healthy Housing Standard agrees

I've spent much of the last decade designing and developing micro-housing projects in Seattle. I've also become deeply involved in local and state policy debates around regulating this type of housing. During this time, I've witnessed a shift in how micro-housing is viewed and managed: beginning as a novelty and quickly evolving from a developer's workaround to the neighborhood advocates' nightmare, to the politicians' headache and the bureaucrats' bogeyman, all the while being slowly driven towards extinction by over-regulation.

Despite this, and over the din of the loudest voices at the political extremes, I've seen a consensus emerge in policy circles recognizing that micro-housing is one of the simplest and most straightforward ways to put more homes into a housing market that is simply starving for them. It's also one of the most effective ways to give people of modest means the opportunity to live in desirable neighborhoods with access to jobs, services, education, amenities, arts, culture, and an overall high quality of life.

At all levels of government, politicians and policymakers are looking for ways to promote more of this type of housing. But they stumble on the question of "how small is too small," where to look for guidance, and how to develop appropriate regulations that govern the size of micro-housing. Below I share key resources to inform this conversation, as well as a number of designs to help leaders envision how these homes could look and feel for the many neighbors who need them. Spoiler alert: A well designed studio apartment can be a lot smaller than most people think.

BUILDING CODES OVER ZONING CODES; OR, HEALTH AND SAFETY OVER OPINIONS

First things first: it's important to differentiate between building codes and zoning codes. Building codes regulate unit size by directly specifying minimum square footage of the floor area. Zoning codes take a more circumspect approach, using density limits, parking requirements, and per unit amenities that indirectly govern housing size.

For the purposes of this article, we will ignore zoning codes, which are inherently political documents that vary from city to city. Instead, we'll focus on the International Building Code (IBC), which is used in all 50 US states. It has a narrower mandate, which is simply (but importantly) to protect public health and safety and to safeguard against hazards in the built environment. While in practice, the ultimate rationale for a zoning code provision can be merely "because I said so," the building code is supposed to have an empirical justification and so can be evaluated on that basis.

The IBC regulates housing size by dictating the minimum size of "habitable" rooms. For instance, a studio apartment requires a 190-square-foot living room. Additionally, the IBC mandates that a kitchen, a bathroom, and a storage closet be provided. Combining those elements with the code-required circulation and accessibility clearances, a studio apartment's minimum size usually ends up at about 300 square feet.

A 300-square-foot studio apartment is by no means luxurious, but smaller apartments are quite common, and I would guess that most of us have lived in smaller spaces at one time or another. In Seattle, a 300-square-foot studio rents for approximately $1,600 per month, making it affordable for people earning around $64,000 annually. That's fine if you can afford it, but nearly half of Seattle's renters can't afford to pay that much for rent.

To serve these neighbors, either we need to build housing that is smaller and more affordable than what conventional development can deliver, or we need to provide subsidized housing to a large percentage of our population. Realistically, our present social safety net can't even provide for our most vulnerable populations, let alone people who are fully employed but simply earn a modest salary. This is where micro-housing can play a crucial role.

IMAGININ...