Journal articles on the topic 'Urban transportation – Ontario – Toronton'

The author runs "Natural Heritage Consulting" in Richmond Hill, Ontario, Canada. She is a former Adjunct Professor at Ryerson University having taught Applied Ecology as a joint program between the School of Occupational and Public Health and the School of Urban and Regional Planning. She has provided environmental policy input on government initiatives such as the formation of the Greenbelt around the City of Toronto in her capacity as a member of the Province of Ontario's Greenbelt Task Force. The text that follows is a revised and edited version of a paper presented by the author at the Natural City conference - "Success Stories" - organized by the Centre for Environment, University of Toronto from 31 May to 2 June, 2006.

A series of macrolevel prediction models that would estimate the number of accidents in planning zones in the city of Toronto, Ontario, Canada, as a function of zonal characteristics were developed. A generalized linear modeling approach was used in which negative binomial regression models were developed separately for total accidents and for severe (fatal and nonfatal injury) accidents as a function of socio-economic and demographic, traffic demand, and network data variables. The variables that had significant effects on accident occurrence were the number of households, the number of major road kilometers, the number of vehicle kilometers traveled, intersection density, posted speed, and volume-capacity ratio. The geographic weighted regression approach was used to test spatial variations in the estimated parameters from zone to zone. Mixed results were obtained from that analysis.

Abstract Being the economic engine of Canada and the home of 5 million people, the environmental health of the Golden Horseshoe is very important. Among various pollution sources into the lake, urban oil spills as a non-point pollution source have not caught the attention of most residents. These spills can cause terrestrial impacts by poisoning animals and plants, groundwater contamination by infiltration, and surface water pollution by algal bloom and fish kills and destruction of freshwater invertebrates and vertebrates. In order to investigate the significance of this pollution source, 10 years of spill records in the Golden Horseshoe have been compiled. On the average, about 1050 L per day of oil escaped to the land, water and air environment in this region. About one-third of these spills eventually entered Lake Ontario. Among various types of spilled oil, gasoline, diesel fuel, aviation fuel and furnace oil accounted for the highest reported volume. The former Metropolitan Toronto led the frequency and volume of spills, while Hamilton-Wentworth followed closely. Spills frequently occur on roads, at service stations and at electrical transformers, while the highest spill event volumes occur at bulk plants/terminals/depots and at refineries. The predominant causes of spills are related to leaks from containers, pipes and hoses, and cooling systems. However, the principal reasons for oil spills are human error and equipment failure. The transportation, public and petroleum sectors are responsible for 60% of the reported spill cases, while the petroleum sector alone accounts for nearly 50% of the reported spill volume. Given the significant volume of spilled oil, it is important that all levels of government and private industries increase their effort to promote pollution prevention such as preventive maintenance, improved employee training and/or retraining, and proper vigilant supervision. Additionally, control devices such as oil-water interceptors should be sized properly and implemented at strategic location across the Golden Horseshoe.

Urban intensification is believed to result in a modal shift away from automobiles to more active forms of transportation. This study extended the understanding of bicycle mode choice and the influence of built form through an analysis of dwelling type, density, and mode choice. Apartment dwelling and active transportation are related to intensification, but an understanding of the impact of increased density on bicycling is muddied by the lack of isolation of cycling from walking in many studies and by the lack of controls for the confounding effects of dwelling type. This study examined the relationship between dwelling type and mode choice in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. In this study of 223,232 trips, 25 variables were controlled for, and multinomial logistic regression analysis was used to estimate relative risk ratios. Strong evidence was found that a trip that originated from an apartment-based household was less than half as likely to be taken by bicycle as a similar trip that originated from a house-based household in Toronto in 2011. Increased population density of the household location had a positive impact on the likelihood that a trip would be taken by walking and a negligible and uncertain impact on the likelihood that it would be taken by transit. However, increased population density had a negative impact on bicycling. Further analysis found that the negative impact of density did not seem to apply to those who lived in single detached housing but rather only to the likelihood that apartment and townhouse dwellers would cycle. Further research is required to identify the exact barriers to cycling that apartment dwellers experience.

The two-echelon delivery structure is a strategy that can be implemented in urban areas to lower delivery costs by reducing the movement of heavy goods vehicles. In a two-echelon delivery structure, large trucks deliver shipments from a consolidation center to several terminals, where packages are transferred to smaller trucks for last-mile deliveries. This paper formulates a model that solves the two-echelon delivery structure by the use of approximation techniques. Several potential terminal locations and demand areas were identified, and the optimal number and locations of the terminals were examined, as the model evaluated the most cost-effective routes between the consolidation center, potential terminals, and demand areas. Downtown Toronto, Ontario, Canada, was chosen as the case study area to assess the model, and a cost analysis of the number and locations of the terminals was performed. The experiments showed that the number and the locations of the terminals were greatly influenced by the opening cost of the terminals and the transportation cost of the delivery trucks. It was also discovered that the likelihood of selection of terminals that were positioned near both the consolidation center and the center of the service area was higher than the likelihood of selection of terminals at any other location.

Urban transportation systems tend to operate most effectively when common expectations exist about all user travel behavior under various conditions. A wide range of behavior among cyclists presents a significant challenge to the achievement of safer and improved designs at intersections. In this research, cyclists were observed (i.e., through the use of video at fixed-camera locations) as they made left turns at six intersections in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. The intersections were classified into five types on the basis of their physical designs and operational characteristics. Cyclist behavior was assessed to determine the propensity to traverse the intersection legally, designated as “rule compliance.” Further, the analysis determined the likelihood that a cyclist would traverse an intersection in a path that was consistent with the design; this outcome was defined as “facility compliance.” The results revealed that the presence of bike boxes, two-phase lefts, and turning lanes with advanced green phases positively influenced cyclists by increasing the likelihood that left turns would be legal and consistent with the behavior intended through the design. The results also suggested that the highest rates of rule and facility compliance existed under the condition in which cyclists approached an intersection during a green signal. On the basis of the observations in the research, design recommendations were made to accommodate cyclists better and produce more consistent behavior and presumably to enhance safety.

Abstract This paper is focused on developing a simulation tool that will be used to assess urban sustainability and inform the future of urban planning. The tool is developed as an add-on module in an operational integrated transportation and land use model (ITLUM) calibrated for two Canadian cities: Hamilton, Ontario and Halifax, Nova Scotia. Progress towards sustainability is gauged based on indicators that will minimize negative environmental and social impacts while maximizing economic benefits. To this end, the methods to model the sustainability indicators are highlighted and described. A simulation example is provided to demonstrate the operability of the devised tool.

Background: Cardiac rehabilitation (CR) is a proven means to reduce morbidity and mortality among cardiac outpatients but is grossly under-utilized. Transportation, distance and travel time are frequently cited barriers to participation. The purpose of this study was to compare CR participation rates between urban and rural cardiac outpatients and examine perceived distance and transportation barriers. Methods: 255 cardiac outpatients (mean age 68+11 years; 76%(194) male) of 97 Ontario cardiologists completed a survey within an on-going prospective study. The second digit of A0A in the postal code designated rural status and was verified with Statistics Canada 2001 Census. Using a 5-point Likert scale outpatients indicated the degree to which transportation and distance were barriers and self-reported travel time to CR and percentage of sessions attended. Results: 87% (223) of outpatients lived in an urban area, while 13% (32) were rural. Overall, 44%(113) participated in CR, with 46% (102) urban and 34% (11) being rural (P > 0.05). Transportation barriers were significantly related to CR participation (P < 0.01), whereas distance was not. Data were split by geographic area and transportation was only significantly related to CR participation among urban outpatients (P < 0.01). Urban outpatients reported a mean travel time of 25±18 minutes compared to 68±53 for rural outpatients (P < 0.0001). The mean percentage of CR sessions participated in was 84±28%, which did not differ by geographic status. Conclusions: Contrary to previous research, living in a rural area and perceived distance were not related to CR participation. However data collection is ongoing. Rural outpatients had longer travel times yet perceived no distance or transportation barriers. Transportation barriers for urban outpatients may be related to population density and traffic delays. Efforts to reduce transportation-related barriers in urban areas such as improving public transportation or increasing home-based CR provision may be warranted.

The Welland canals are features of great Canadian renown in terms of engineering, as transportation arteries, and through their contributions to industrial development and urban achievement. Their instigator was William Hamilton Merritt, a St. Catharines businessman. Functionally, they must be perceived as an inland extension of the St. Lawrence system of waterways. These contributions began when the First Welland Canal opened in 1829, and extend continuously up to the present. The First Welland Canal, fed from the Grand River, was constructed through the canalization of rivers north of the Niagara Escarpment, by locks across this relief barrier, and a man-made cut to the south. The canal then took advantage of the Welland and Niagara rivers to reach Lake Erie. Hardly a feature of this achievement was as anticipated and, in 1833, the route was changed by a cut direct to Lake Erie at Port Colborne. The Second Canal, opened in 1845, followed essentially the same route, but with stone locks and a new channel constructed slightly to the west of its predecessor. The Third Canal was wider and deeper. It offered fewer locks and, though retaining Port Dalhousie as its northern outlet on Lake Ontario, its alignment was now a cut east of St. Catharines and Thorold across the Ontario Plain. The Second Canal remained in use at the two ends for the smaller-sized vessels to serve St. Catharines and Thorold, and its water supply continued to power industry until hydroelectricity was obtained from the power projects on the Niagara River at Niagara Falls. Key words: Welland Canal, St. Lawrence–Great Lakes water system, William Hamilton Merritt, transportation, Grand River, Lake Erie, Lake Ontario, water power, industrial location, urban growth.

<p>Processes of environmental dispossession have had dramatic consequences for dietary quality, cultural identity, and the integrity of traditional food systems (TFS) in many Indigenous populations. These transitions have not been documented among First Nation people in southwestern Ontario, and virtually no studies have investigated TFS in southern or urban regions of Canada. Nested within a larger community-centred project designed to better understand the social and spatial determinants of food choice and patterns of food security, the objective of this paper was to explore First Nation mothers’ knowledge about access, availability, and practices relating to traditional foods in the city of London, Ontario, and nearby First Nation reserves. In 2010, twenty-five women participated in semi-structured interviews that were audio recorded, transcribed, and analyzed with input from community partners. Our results centre on the women’s stories about access, preferences, knowledge, and sharing of traditional foods. Those living on a reserve relied more consistently on traditional foods, as proximity to land, family, and knowledge permitted improved access. Urban mothers faced transportation and economic barriers alongside knowledge loss related to the use and preparation of traditional foods. Overall our results demonstrate uneven geographic challenges for First Nation engagement in TFS, with urban mothers experiencing uniquely greater challenges than those residing on a reserve.</p>

Background: Active transportation is an affordable and accessible form of transportation that facilitates the mobility of older adults in their communities. Age-friendly cities encourage and support physical activity and social participation among older adults; however, they often do not adequately address active transportation. Our goal was to identify and understand the constraints to active transportation that older adults experience in order to inform the development of viable solutions. Methods: Focus group interviews were conducted with community dwelling older adults (n = 52) living in the City of Oshawa in Ontario, Canada; each focus group targeted a specific demographic to ensure a diverse range of perspectives were represented. Data were analyzed to identify themes; sub-group analyses were conducted to understand the experience of those from low socioeconomic status and culturally diverse groups. Results: Themes pertaining to environmental, individual, and task constraints, as well as their interactions, were identified. Of particular novelty, seemingly non-modifiable constraints (e.g., weather and personal health) interacted with modifiable constraints (e.g., urban design). Culturally diverse and lower socioeconomic groups had more favorable perspectives of their neighborhoods. Conclusion: While constraints to active transportation interact to exacerbate one another, there is an opportunity to minimize or remove constraints by implementing age-friendly policies and practices.

Over the past decade, network RTK technology has become popular as an efficient method of precise, real-time positioning. Its relatively low-cost and single receiver ease-of-use has allowed it to mostly replace static relative GPS and single baseline RTK in urban areas where such networks are economically viable (e.g., cadastral and construction survey). The Ministry of Transportation of Ontario (MTO) and York University have investigated the performance of commercial network RTK services in Southern Ontario, where performance is defined by a set of developed metrics. It was found that the user horizontal solution had an overall precision of ∼2.5 cm (95%), though there were cases of solution biases, drifts and gaps. A follow-up study is developing criteria and pathways for the certification of such commercial network RTK services, focusing on: reference station integration, reference station maintenance, and user solution monitoring. A set of recommendations for network certification is in preparation.

Public transit is central to sustainable multimodal transportation systems; however, designing an effective transit network remains an analytically challenging and complex task. Given the spatial nature of the problem, geographic information systems (GISs) can support transit network design by identifying subsections of urban areas within and between which very high travel demand exists. Once these corridors are identified, local knowledge and expertise may be used to develop routings that satisfy these demands. This paper presents a spatial approach to assist in designing transit networks and describes the development and application of an automated, spatial multicriteria aggregation algorithm implemented as a user-friendly GIS tool coded by using the Python scripting library (ArcPy). Using population and employment densities, spatial adjacency, and geographic and administrative boundaries, the GIS tool leverages readily available demographic data to classify and merge traffic analysis zones into larger urban activity centers. The tool then aggregates regional origin–destination matrices to visualize only the flows associated with the activity centers. The results show that this approach significantly reduces the number of origins and destinations to be considered in designing the network but retains a large proportion of regional trips. This paper demonstrates how the tool can be applied through an example from the region of Waterloo, Ontario, Canada, where the local transit agency is developing a transit network to support a central light-rail transit line.

The St. Lawrence Seaway and Power Project was a massive restructuring of the St. Lawrence River bordering Canada and the United States. The river had always been used for human transportation, and a shipping canal for commercial vehicles was constructed and enhanced throughout the nineteenth century. However, the river grew increasingly incapable of handling an international fleet composed of larger boats during the twentieth century. Proposals to undertake major renovations for shipping were debated at the highest levels of policy for several decades. Finally, the St. Lawrence River was substantially altered during the 1950s. These changes created a Seaway able to accommodate vessels with deeper drafts and permitted the development of hydro-electric generating facilities through the construction of dikes and dams. All of this activity involved numerous agencies in the governments of the United States, Canada, the Iroquois Confederacy, New York, Ontario, other states and provinces, as well as commercial and industrial entities in the private sector.

Although automated vehicles (AVs) are rapidly being developed, the public sector continues to learn what this technology could mean for transportation policy. As reducing auto-based commute distances is one common planning objective, understanding the conditions under which individuals may adopt AVs to commute further is important. To that end, this study uses data from a 2016 survey of residents in Southern Ontario, Canada, to estimate the characteristics and motivations of individuals indicating the most interest in commuting further using AVs. Comparing findings with existing research on commute lengths and AV adoption, this study identifies how AV adoption may shape long-distance commuting, focusing on commuters who already drive to work. Results suggest significant potential for longer commutes and that longer AV-based commutes are expected to be taken by younger, higher educated, and tech-savvy individuals who already travel by car for regular daily trips, and by older individuals residing in urban neighborhoods. Findings on longer commutes, gender, and domestic responsibilities suggest that longer commutes could reinforce existing disparities in commuting distances between men and women but may be valuable to individuals with occasional chauffeuring responsibilities—suggesting potential for broader impacts in household social roles. Those expected benefits from AVs anticipated to motivate longer commutes include multitasking, safety improvements, better reliability, improved parking, and reduced traffic—suggesting that should AV technologies deliver in these realms, select commuters may derive significant utility. Paradoxically, several of the benefits expected to deliver the most consumer value may be undermined should additional AVs increase traffic significantly.

Accessibility indicators are widely used in transportation, urban and healthcare planning, among many other applications. These measures are weighted sums of reachable opportunities from a given origin, conditional on the cost of movement, and are estimates of the potential for spatial interaction. Over time, various proposals have been forwarded to improve their interpretability: one of those methodological additions have been the introduction of competition. In this paper we focus on competition, but first demonstrate how a widely used measure of accessibility with congestion fails to properly match the opportunity-seeking population. We then propose an alternative formulation of accessibility with competition, a measure we call spatial availability. This measure relies on proportional allocation balancing factors (friction of distance and population competition) that are equivalent to imposing a single constraint on conventional gravity-based accessibility. In other words, the proportional allocation of opportunities results in a spatially available opportunities value which is assigned to each origin that, when all origin values are summed, equals the total number of opportunities in the region. We also demonstrate how Two-Stage Floating Catchment Area (2SFCA) methods are equivalent to spatial availability and can be reconceptualized as singly-constrained accessibility. To illustrate the application of spatial availability and compare it to other relevant measures, we use data from the 2016 Transportation Tomorrow Survey of the Greater Golden Horseshoe area in southern Ontario, Canada. Spatial availability is an important contribution since it clarifies the interpretation of accessibility with competition and paves the way for future applications in equity analysis (e.g., spatial mismatch, opportunity benchmarking, policy intervention scenario analysis).

Introduction Despite the accumulating Canadian evidence regarding the relations between urban form and health behaviours, less is known about the associations between urban form and health conditions. Our study aim was to undertake a scoping review to synthesize evidence from quantitative studies that have investigated the relationship between built environment and chronic health conditions, self-reported health and qual¬ity of life, and injuries in the Canadian adult population. Methods From January to March 2017, we searched 13 databases to identify peer-reviewed quantitative studies from all years that estimated associations between the objectively-measured built environment and health conditions in Canadian adults. Studies under¬taken within urban settings only were included. Relevant studies were catalogued and synthesized in relation to their reported study and sample design, and health outcome and built environment features. Results Fifty-five articles met the inclusion criteria, 52 of which were published after 2008. Most single province studies were undertaken in Ontario (n = 22), Quebec (n = 12), and Alberta (n = 7). Associations between the built environment features and 11 broad health outcomes emerged from the review, including injury (n = 19), weight status (n = 19), cardiovascular disease (n = 5), depression/anxiety (n = 5), diabetes (n = 5), mortality (n = 4), self-rated health (n = 2), chronic conditions (n = 2), metabolic condi¬tions (n = 2), quality of life (n = 1), and cancer (n = 1). Consistent evidence for asso¬ciations between aggregate built environment indicators (e.g., walkability) and diabetes and weight and between connectivity and route features (e.g., transportation route, trails, pathways, sidewalks, street pattern, intersections, route characteristics) and injury were found. Evidence for greenspace, parks and recreation features impacting multiple health outcomes was also found. Conclusion Within the Canadian context, the built environment is associated with a range of chronic health conditions and injury in adults, but the evidence to date has limi¬tations. More research on the built environment and health incorporating rigorous study designs are needed to provide stronger causal evidence to inform policy and practice.

More than 1180 non-native species, mostly of Palaearctic origin, have been recorded from the boreal zone of Canada, with the highest diversity on the island of Newfoundland and in the southern boreal zone of Ontario and Quebec. The non-native biota of the boreal zone (and of Canada in general) is poorly known in terms of species composition and distribution. A large proportion of species are associated with disturbed anthropogenic habitats such as urban areas, agricultural landscapes, transportation and communication corridors, and industrial developments. Natural habitats in the boreal zone have a high degree of resistance to invasion compared with those of other Canadian zones, likely owing to harsh climates, low light levels, poor soil nutrient availability, low soil pH, low productivity, and dense covering of the ground by plants, especially bryophytes. Of the relatively few non-native species that have successfully colonized the boreal zone, many decline greatly in abundance after a few years, suggesting biotic resilience. To date the boreal zone has shown the least resistance and resilience to large vertebrates (moose and white-tailed deer) translocated to islands, diseases of vertebrates, and earthworms. In general, the ecological impacts of non-native species on the boreal zone have been poorly studied, and there are few examples where such impacts are evident. Likewise, there has been little attempt to quantify the economic impacts of non-native species in either the boreal zone or in Canada as a whole. In the few cases where management measures have been implemented for highly destructive non-native species, results have been somewhat successful, especially where classical biological control measures have been implemented against insects on trees. Chemical and mechanical management measures have had only limited success in localized situations. Management resources are most effectively applied to reducing the risk of introduction. The risk to the boreal zone posed by future new non-native species is increasing with the warming climate and the fast and direct transport of goods into the boreal zone from points of origin. Five recommendations are provided to address recognized gaps concerning non-native species.

Objectives: Bicycling is a form of active transportation with a number of health benefits but carries a high risk of injury compared to other transportation modes. Safety intervention evaluations often produce results in the form of ratios, which can be difficult to communicate to policy-makers. The primary objective of this study was to estimate the number of bicycling injuries on an urban corridor preventable by separated bicycling infrastructure. Methods: Stakeholders identified a key corridor with multiple segments having bicycling infrastructure but most of the corridor lacking similar infrastructure. We counted bicyclist volume along this route and used secondary data to supplement counts missing due to COVID-19. We used two reference studies including local bicycling population to estimate benefit of separated bicycling infrastructure and applied this to a city-wide estimate of baseline risk of injury per kilometre bicycled, which used a combination of secondary data sources including police, health care and travel survey data. Finally, we adjusted baseline risk to account for increased bicyclist volume during and following the COVID-19 pandemic. Results: We estimated installation of fully separated cycle tracks along one Toronto corridor would prevent approximately 152.9 injuries and 0.9 fatalities over a 10-year period. Discussion: Our results underscore the benefits of separated bicycling infrastructure. We identify several caveats for our results, including the limitations of studies used to estimate relative risk of infrastructure. Our method could be adapted for use in other cities or along other corridors. Finally, we discuss the role of preventable burden estimates as a knowledge translation tool.

When designing bicycle count programs, it can be difficult to know where to locate counters to generate a representative sample of bicycling ridership. Crowdsourced data on ridership has been shown to represent patterns of temporal ridership in dense urban areas. Here we use crowdsourced data and machine learning to categorize street segments into classes of temporal patterns of ridership. We used continuous signal processing to group 3,880 street segments in Ottawa, Ontario into six classes of temporal ridership that varied based on overall volume and daily patterns (commute vs non-commute). Transportation practitioners can use this data to strategically place counters across these strata to efficiently capture bicycling ridership counts that better represent the entire city.

IntroductionThe impact of the built environment on health and chronic disease outcomes is increasingly being recognized. As Public Health develops interventions to transform the health-promoting potential of built environments, effective monitoring and evaluation will require the creation and baseline measurement of key health-promoting urban elements. Objectives and ApproachThe Healthy Development Monitoring Project aims to assess health-promoting aspects of the existing built environment across the Region of Peel, a large region of 1.382 million people in Southern Ontario comprised of three local municipalities (the Cities of Mississauga, Brampton and Town of Caledon). Project objectives include: Produce evidence-informed indicators to measure health-promoting built form elements at a neighbourhood-scale across the region Produce a GIS-based visualization that incorporates these indicators into a single model to measure their combined impact on the built form Reproduce these indicators over time to monitor for changes in Peel’s built form ResultsThe resulting Healthy Development Monitoring Map (HDMM) is an interactive online mapping tool that includes twenty built form indicators characterizing the region’s built environment, including: density, service proximity, land use mix, street connectivity, streetscape characteristics and efficient parking. These indicators were created through extensive cross-sectoral collaboration with regional and municipal staff in land-use and policy planning, transportation, internal data centers and academic institutions. This collaborative approach enabled the linking of data sets from land-use planning, urban design and transportation to allow the health-promoting potential of existing built environment conditions to be objectively described. The HDMM demonstrates considerable progress in producing precise, neighbourhood-level built environment indicators at a regional scale by integrating census and local data into a comprehensive set of empirically-derived measures. Conclusion/ImplicationsThe HDMM is a novel approach to quantifying a social determinant of health through collaborative data acquisition and analysis. The HDMM benefits public health, planning and non-governmental decision-makers by creating a holistic presentation of key infrastructure and design elements that contribute to healthier urban environments.

Children who engage in active school transportation (AST) have higher levels of physical activity (PA). Climate and weather were shown to influence adults' daily travel behaviours, but their influence on children's AST and PA has been less examined. This study examined the influence of weather conditions on children’s active school transportation (AST) and overall physical activity (PA). Children in grades 4 to 6 (N=1,699; 10.2 ± 1.0 years old) were recruited in schools located in urban, suburban and rural areas, stratified by area-level socioeconomic status (SES), in three different regions of Canada (Trois-Rivières, Québec; Ottawa, Ontario; Vancouver, British Columbia). Mode of school travel was self-reported and physical activity was measured using a pedometer. We used publicly available data on total precipitation and early morning temperature. AST increased with temperature only among girls. Daily precipitation was negatively associated with boys’ and girls’ PA while warmer temperature was associated with increased PA on weekend days. We also observed that season and region moderated the relationship between weather conditions and children’s physical activity behaviors. Our results suggest that daily weather variations influence children’s AST and PA to a greater extent than seasonal variations. Interventions designed to help children and families adapt to weather-related barriers to AST and PA are needed. Novelty bullets • In Canada, weather conditions may influence children’s active behaviors daily. • Associations between weather conditions, choice of travel mode and physical activity vary by gender, season, and region. • Weather affects children's PA differently during the week than on weekends.

Abstract Background Increasing hospitalization rates present unique challenges to manage limited inpatient bed capacity and services. Transport by paramedics to the emergency department (ED) may influence hospital admission decisions independent of patient need/acuity, though this relationship has not been established. We examined whether mode of transportation to the ED was independently associated with hospital admission. Methods We conducted a retrospective cohort study using the National Ambulatory Care Reporting System (NACRS) from April 1, 2015 to March 31, 2020 in Ontario, Canada. We included all adult patients (≥18 years) who received a triage score in the ED and presented via paramedic transport or self-referral (walk-in). Multivariable binary logistic regression was used to determine the association of mode of transportation between hospital admission, after adjusting for important patient and visit characteristics. Results During the study period, 21,764,640 ED visits were eligible for study inclusion. Approximately one-fifth (18.5%) of all ED visits were transported by paramedics. All-cause hospital admission incidence was greater when transported by paramedics (35.0% vs. 7.5%) and with each decreasing Canadian Triage and Acuity Scale level. Paramedic transport was independently associated with hospital admission (OR = 3.76; 95%CI = 3.74–3.77), in addition to higher medical acuity, older age, male sex, greater than two comorbidities, treatment in an urban setting and discharge diagnoses specific to the circulatory or digestive systems. Conclusions Transport by paramedics to an ED was independently associated with hospital admission as the disposition outcome, when compared against self-referred visits. Our findings highlight patient and visit characteristics associated with hospital admission, and can be used to inform proactive healthcare strategizing for in-patient bed management.

This paper describes and visualises the data contained within the {TTS2016R} data package created in R, the statistical computing and graphics language. {TTS2016R} contains home-to-work commute information for the Greater Golden Horseshoe area in Canada retrieved from the 2016 Transportation Tomorrow Survey (TTS). Included are all Traffic Analysis Zones (TAZ), the number of people who are employed full-time per TAZ, the number of jobs per TAZ, the count of origin destination (OD) pairs and trips by mode per origin TAZ, calculated car travel time from TAZ OD centroid pairs and associated spatial boundaries to link TAZ to the Canadian Census. To illustrate how this information can be analysed to understand patterns in commuting, we estimate a distance-decay curve (i.e. impedance function) for the region. {TTS2016R} is a growing open data product built on R infrastructure that allows for the immediate access of home-to-work commuting data alongside complimentary objects from different sources. The package will continue expanding with additions by the authors and the community at-large by requests in the future. {TTS2016R} can be freely explored and downloaded in the associated Github repository where the documentation and code involved in data creation, manipulation and all open data products are detailed.

While the term “visual literacy” has grown in popularity in the last 50 years, its meaning remains nebulous. It is described variously as: a vehicle for aesthetic appreciation, a means of defence against visual manipulation, a sorting mechanism for an increasingly data-saturated age, and a prerequisite to civic inclusion (Fransecky 23; Messaris 181; McTigue and Flowers 580). Scholars have written extensively about the first three subjects but there has been less research on how visual literacy frames civic life and how it might help the public as a tool to address disadvantage and assist in removing social and cultural barriers. This article examines a forerunner to visual literacy in the push to create an international symbol language born out of popular education movements, a project that fell short of its goals but still left a considerable impression on graphic media. This article, then, presents an analysis of visual literacy campaigns in the early postwar era. These campaigns did not attempt to invent a symbolic language but posited that images themselves served as a universal language in which students could receive training. Of particular interest is how the concept of visual literacy has been mobilised as a pedagogical tool in design, digital humanities and in broader civic education initiatives promoted by Third Space institutions. Behind the creation of new visual literacy curricula is the idea that images can help anchor a world community, supplementing textual communication. Figure 1: Visual Literacy Yearbook. Montebello Unified School District, USA, 1973. Shedding Light: Origins of the Visual Literacy Frame The term “visual literacy” came to the fore in the early 1970s on the heels of mass literacy campaigns. The educators, creatives and media theorists who first advocated for visual learning linked this aim to literacy, an unassailable goal, to promote a more radical curricular overhaul. They challenged a system that had hitherto only acknowledged a very limited pathway towards academic success; pushing “language and mathematics”, courses “referred to as solids (something substantial) as contrasted with liquids or gases (courses with little or no substance)” (Eisner 92). This was deemed “a parochial view of both human ability and the possibilities of education” that did not acknowledge multiple forms of intelligence (Gardner). This change not only integrated elements of mass culture that had been rejected in education, notably film and graphic arts, but also encouraged the critique of images as a form of good citizenship, assuming that visually literate arbiters could call out media misrepresentations and manipulative political advertising (Messaris, “Visual Test”). This movement was, in many ways, reactive to new forms of mass media that began to replace newspapers as key forms of civic participation. Unlike simple literacy (being able to decipher letters as a mnemonic system), visual literacy involves imputing meanings to images where meanings are less fixed, yet still with embedded cultural signifiers. Visual literacy promised to extend enlightenment metaphors of sight (as in the German Aufklärung) and illumination (as in the French Lumières) to help citizens understand an increasingly complex marketplace of images. The move towards visual literacy was not so much a shift towards images (and away from books and oration) but an affirmation of the need to critically investigate the visual sphere. It introduced doubt to previously upheld hierarchies of perception. Sight, to Kant the “noblest of the senses” (158), was no longer the sense “least affected” by the surrounding world but an input centre that was equally manipulable. In Kant’s view of societal development, the “cosmopolitan” held the key to pacifying bellicose states and ensuring global prosperity and tranquillity. The process of developing a cosmopolitan ideology rests, according to Kant, on the gradual elimination of war and “the education of young people in intellectual and moral culture” (188-89). Transforming disparate societies into “a universal cosmopolitan existence” that would “at last be realised as the matrix within which all the original capacities of the human race may develop” and would take well-funded educational institutions and, potentially, a new framework for imparting knowledge (Kant 51). To some, the world of the visual presented a baseline for shared experience. Figure 2: Exhibition by the Gesellschafts- und Wirtschaftsmuseum in Vienna, photograph c. 1927. An International Picture Language The quest to find a mutually intelligible language that could “bridge worlds” and solder together all of humankind goes back to the late nineteenth century and the Esperanto movement of Ludwig Zamenhof (Schor 59). The expression of this ideal in the world of the visual picked up steam in the interwar years with designers and editors like Fritz Kahn, Gerd Arntz, and Otto and Marie Neurath. Their work transposing complex ideas into graphic form has been rediscovered as an antecedent to modern infographics, but the symbols they deployed were not to merely explain, but also help education and build international fellowship unbounded by spoken language. The Neuraths in particular are celebrated for their international picture language or Isotypes. These pictograms (sometimes viewed as proto-emojis) can be used to represent data without text. Taken together they are an “intemporal, hieroglyphic language” that Neutrath hoped would unite working-class people the world over (Lee 159). The Neuraths’ work was done in the explicit service of visual education with a popular socialist agenda and incubated in the social sphere of Red Vienna at the Gesellschafts- und Wirtschaftsmuseum (Social and Economic Museum) where Otto served as Director. The Wirtschaftsmuseum was an experiment in popular education, with multiple branches and late opening hours to accommodate the “the working man [who] has time to see a museum only at night” (Neurath 72-73). The Isotype contained universalist aspirations for the “making of a world language, or a helping picture language—[that] will give support to international developments generally” and “educate by the eye” (Neurath 13). Figure 3: Gerd Arntz Isotype Images. (Source: University of Reading.) The Isotype was widely adopted in the postwar era in pre-packaged sets of symbols used in graphic design and wayfinding systems for buildings and transportation networks, but with the socialism of the Neuraths’ peeled away, leaving only the system of logos that we are familiar with from airport washrooms, charts, and public transport maps. Much of the uptake in this symbol language could be traced to increased mobility and tourism, particularly in countries that did not make use of a Roman alphabet. The 1964 Olympics in Tokyo helped pave the way when organisers, fearful of jumbling too many scripts together, opted instead for black and white icons to represent the program of sports that summer. The new focus on the visual was both technologically mediated—cheaper printing and broadcast technologies made the diffusion of image increasingly possible—but also ideologically supported by a growing emphasis on projects that transcended linguistic, ethnic, and national borders. The Olympic symbols gradually morphed into Letraset icons, and, later, symbols in the Unicode Standard, which are the basis for today’s emojis. Wordless signs helped facilitate interconnectedness, but only in the most literal sense; their application was limited primarily to sports mega-events, highway maps, and “brand building”, and they never fulfilled their role as an educational language “to give the different nations a common outlook” (Neurath 18). Universally understood icons, particularly in the form of emojis, point to a rise in visual communication but they have fallen short as a cosmopolitan project, supporting neither the globalisation of Kantian ethics nor the transnational socialism of the Neuraths. Figure 4: Symbols in use. Women's bathroom. 1964 Tokyo Olympics. (Source: The official report of the Organizing Committee.) Counter Education By mid-century, the optimism of a universal symbol language seemed dated, and focus shifted from distillation to discernment. New educational programs presented ways to study images, increasingly reproducible with new technologies, as a language in and of themselves. These methods had their roots in the fin-de-siècle educational reforms of John Dewey, Helen Parkhurst, and Maria Montessori. As early as the 1920s, progressive educators were using highly visual magazines, like National Geographic, as the basis for lesson planning, with the hopes that they would “expose students to edifying and culturally enriching reading” and “develop a more catholic taste or sensibility, representing an important cosmopolitan value” (Hawkins 45). The rise in imagery from previously inaccessible regions helped pupils to see themselves in relation to the larger world (although this connection always came with the presumed superiority of the reader). “Pictorial education in public schools” taught readers—through images—to accept a broader world but, too often, they saw photographs as a “straightforward transcription of the real world” (Hawkins 57). The images of cultures and events presented in Life and National Geographic for the purposes of education and enrichment were now the subject of greater analysis in the classroom, not just as “windows into new worlds” but as cultural products in and of themselves. The emerging visual curriculum aimed to do more than just teach with previously excluded modes (photography, film and comics); it would investigate how images presented and mediated the world. This gained wider appeal with new analytical writing on film, like Raymond Spottiswoode's Grammar of the Film (1950) which sought to formulate the grammatical rules of visual communication (Messaris 181), influenced by semiotics and structural linguistics; the emphasis on grammar can also be seen in far earlier writings on design systems such as Owen Jones’s 1856 The Grammar of Ornament, which also advocated for new, universalising methods in design education (Sloboda 228). The inventorying impulse is on display in books like Donis A. Dondis’s A Primer of Visual Literacy (1973), a text that meditates on visual perception but also functions as an introduction to line and form in the applied arts, picking up where the Bauhaus left off. Dondis enumerates the “syntactical guidelines” of the applied arts with illustrations that are in keeping with 1920s books by Kandinsky and Klee and analyse pictorial elements. However, at the end of the book she shifts focus with two chapters that examine “messaging” and visual literacy explicitly. Dondis predicts that “an intellectual, trained ability to make and understand visual messages is becoming a vital necessity to involvement with communication. It is quite likely that visual literacy will be one of the fundamental measures of education in the last third of our century” (33) and she presses for more programs that incorporate the exploration and analysis of images in tertiary education. Figure 5: Ideal spatial environment for the Blueprint charts, 1970. (Image: Inventory Press.) Visual literacy in education arrived in earnest with a wave of publications in the mid-1970s. They offered ways for students to understand media processes and for teachers to use visual culture as an entry point into complex social and scientific subject matter, tapping into the “visual consciousness of the ‘television generation’” (Fransecky 5). Visual culture was often seen as inherently democratising, a break from stuffiness, the “artificialities of civilisation”, and the “archaic structures” that set sensorial perception apart from scholarship (Dworkin 131-132). Many radical university projects and community education initiatives of the 1960s made use of new media in novel ways: from Maurice Stein and Larry Miller’s fold-out posters accompanying Blueprint for Counter Education (1970) to Emory Douglas’s graphics for The Black Panther newspaper. Blueprint’s text- and image-dense wall charts were made via assemblage and they were imagined less as charts and more as a “matrix of resources” that could be used—and added to—by youth to undertake their own counter education (Cronin 53). These experiments in visual learning helped to break down old hierarchies in education, but their aim was influenced more by countercultural notions of disruption than the universal ideals of cosmopolitanism. From Image as Text to City as Text For a brief period in the 1970s, thinkers like Marshall McLuhan (McLuhan et al., Massage) and artists like Bruno Munari (Tanchis and Munari) collaborated fruitfully with graphic designers to create books that mixed text and image in novel ways. Using new compositional methods, they broke apart traditional printing lock-ups to superimpose photographs, twist text, and bend narrative frames. The most famous work from this era is, undoubtedly, The Medium Is the Massage (1967), McLuhan’s team-up with graphic designer Quentin Fiore, but it was followed by dozens of other books intended to communicate theory and scientific ideas with popularising graphics. Following in the footsteps of McLuhan, many of these texts sought not just to explain an issue but to self-consciously reference their own method of information delivery. These works set the precedent for visual aids (and, to a lesser extent, audio) that launched a diverse, non-hierarchical discourse that was nonetheless bound to tactile artefacts. In 1977, McLuhan helped develop a media textbook for secondary school students called City as Classroom: Understanding Language and Media. It is notable for its direct address style and its focus on investigating spaces outside of the classroom (provocatively, a section on the third page begins with “Should all schools be closed?”). The book follows with a fine-grained analysis of advertising forms in which students are asked to first bring advertisements into class for analysis and later to go out into the city to explore “a man-made environment, a huge warehouse of information, a vast resource to be mined free of charge” (McLuhan et al., City 149). As a document City as Classroom is critical of existing teaching methods, in line with the radical “in the streets” pedagogy of its day. McLuhan’s theories proved particularly salient for the counter education movement, in part because they tapped into a healthy scepticism of advertisers and other image-makers. They also dovetailed with growing discontent with the ad-strew visual environment of cities in the 1970s. Budgets for advertising had mushroomed in the1960s and outdoor advertising “cluttered” cities with billboards and neon, generating “fierce intensities and new hybrid energies” that threatened to throw off the visual equilibrium (McLuhan 74). Visual literacy curricula brought in experiential learning focussed on the legibility of the cities, mapping, and the visualisation of urban issues with social justice implications. The Detroit Geographical Expedition and Institute (DGEI), a “collective endeavour of community research and education” that arose in the aftermath of the 1967 uprisings, is the most storied of the groups that suffused the collection of spatial data with community engagement and organising (Warren et al. 61). The following decades would see a tamed approach to visual literacy that, while still pressing for critical reading, did not upend traditional methods of educational delivery. Figure 6: Beginning a College Program-Assisting Teachers to Develop Visual Literacy Approaches in Public School Classrooms. 1977. ERIC. Searching for Civic Education The visual literacy initiatives formed in the early 1970s both affirmed existing civil society institutions while also asserting the need to better inform the public. Most of the campaigns were sponsored by universities, major libraries, and international groups such as UNESCO, which published its “Declaration on Media Education” in 1982. They noted that “participation” was “essential to the working of a pluralistic and representative democracy” and the “public—users, citizens, individuals, groups ... were too systematically overlooked”. Here, the public is conceived as both “targets of the information and communication process” and users who “should have the last word”. To that end their “continuing education” should be ensured (Study 18). Programs consisted primarily of cognitive “see-scan-analyse” techniques (Little et al.) for younger students but some also sought to bring visual analysis to adult learners via continuing education (often through museums eager to engage more diverse audiences) and more radical popular education programs sponsored by community groups. By the mid-80s, scores of modules had been built around the comprehension of visual media and had become standard educational fare across North America, Australasia, and to a lesser extent, Europe. There was an increasing awareness of the role of data and image presentation in decision-making, as evidenced by the surprising commercial success of Edward Tufte’s 1982 book, The Visual Display of Quantitative Information. Visual literacy—or at least image analysis—was now enmeshed in teaching practice and needed little active advocacy. Scholarly interest in the subject went into a brief period of hibernation in the 1980s and early 1990s, only to be reborn with the arrival of new media distribution technologies (CD-ROMs and then the internet) in classrooms and the widespread availability of digital imaging technology starting in the late 1990s; companies like Adobe distributed free and reduced-fee licences to schools and launched extensive teacher training programs. Visual literacy was reanimated but primarily within a circumscribed academic field of education and data visualisation. Figure 7: Visual Literacy; What Research Says to the Teacher, 1975. National Education Association. USA. Part of the shifting frame of visual literacy has to do with institutional imperatives, particularly in places where austerity measures forced strange alliances between disciplines. What had been a project in alternative education morphed into an uncontested part of the curriculum and a dependable budget line. This shift was already forecasted in 1972 by Harun Farocki who, writing in Filmkritik, noted that funding for new film schools would be difficult to obtain but money might be found for “training in media education … a discipline that could persuade ministers of education, that would at the same time turn the budget restrictions into an advantage, and that would match the functions of art schools” (98). Nearly 50 years later educators are still using media education (rebranded as visual or media literacy) to make the case for fine arts and humanities education. While earlier iterations of visual literacy education were often too reliant on the idea of cracking the “code” of images, they did promote ways of learning that were a deep departure from the rote methods of previous generations. Next-gen curricula frame visual literacy as largely supplemental—a resource, but not a program. By the end of the 20th century, visual literacy had changed from a scholarly interest to a standard resource in the “teacher’s toolkit”, entering into school programs and influencing museum education, corporate training, and the development of public-oriented media (Literacy). An appreciation of image culture was seen as key to creating empathetic global citizens, but its scope was increasingly limited. With rising austerity in the education sector (a shift that preceded the 2008 recession by decades in some countries), art educators, museum enrichment staff, and design researchers need to make a case for why their disciplines were relevant in pedagogical models that are increasingly aimed at “skills-based” and “job ready” teaching. Arts educators worked hard to insert their fields into learning goals for secondary students as visual literacy, with the hope that “literacy” would carry the weight of an educational imperative and not a supplementary field of study. Conclusion For nearly a century, educational initiatives have sought to inculcate a cosmopolitan perspective with a variety of teaching materials and pedagogical reference points. Symbolic languages, like the Isotype, looked to unite disparate people with shared visual forms; while educational initiatives aimed to train the eyes of students to make them more discerning citizens. The term ‘visual literacy’ emerged in the 1960s and has since been deployed in programs with a wide variety of goals. Countercultural initiatives saw it as a prerequisite for popular education from the ground up, but, in the years since, it has been formalised and brought into more staid curricula, often as a sort of shorthand for learning from media and pictures. The grand cosmopolitan vision of a complete ‘visual language’ has been scaled back considerably, but still exists in trace amounts. Processes of globalisation require images to universalise experiences, commodities, and more for people without shared languages. Emoji alphabets and globalese (brands and consumer messaging that are “visual-linguistic” amalgams “increasingly detached from any specific ethnolinguistic group or locality”) are a testament to a mediatised banal cosmopolitanism (Jaworski 231). In this sense, becoming “fluent” in global design vernacular means familiarity with firms and products, an understanding that is aesthetic, not critical. It is very much the beneficiaries of globalisation—both state and commercial actors—who have been able to harness increasingly image-based technologies for their benefit. To take a humorous but nonetheless consequential example, Spanish culinary boosters were able to successfully lobby for a paella emoji (Miller) rather than having a food symbol from a less wealthy country such as a Senegalese jollof or a Morrocan tagine. This trend has gone even further as new forms of visual communication are increasingly streamlined and managed by for-profit media platforms. The ubiquity of these forms of communication and their global reach has made visual literacy more important than ever but it has also fundamentally shifted the endeavour from a graphic sorting practice to a critical piece of social infrastructure that has tremendous political ramifications. Visual literacy campaigns hold out the promise of educating students in an image-based system with the potential to transcend linguistic and cultural boundaries. This cosmopolitan political project has not yet been realised, as the visual literacy frame has drifted into specialised silos of art, design, and digital humanities education. It can help bridge the “incomplete connections” of an increasingly globalised world (Calhoun 112), but it does not have a program in and of itself. Rather, an evolving visual literacy curriculum might be seen as a litmus test for how we imagine the role of images in the world. 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