Business Parks Suck (but they don't have to)

Business parks feel miserable in North America largely because they’re built for cars first and transit and walking only as an afterthought—but a Dutch airport-area business park shows how quickly that changes when public transportation is treated as “first-class.” The core contrast isn’t just a better bus shelter or a nearby train stop. It’s an entire system of design choices that makes arriving by transit fast, reliable, comfortable, and socially respected.

In a Toronto-area business park near the airport, commuting by public transit could take 50 minutes to over an hour, with transfers that were undermined by traffic and schedules that didn’t match real-world conditions. The alternative—driving—wasn’t financially realistic for a student, and complaints at work were met with the blunt advice to “buy a car.” The result was a routine of cold waits, long walks along wide, high-speed roads, and a constant sense of being treated as a second-class commuter. Even in a region with “good” transit by U.S. and Canadian standards, the environment still pushed people toward driving through hostile street design and inconvenient access.

That experience is contrasted with a business park in the Netherlands near an airport, where transit access is straightforward and frequent enough that schedules barely matter. The journey involves easy connections by train, a short walk, and—crucially—bus infrastructure that isn’t trapped in traffic. Buses run on dedicated, raised lanes that avoid traffic lights and delays, arriving every few minutes even outside rush hour. The bus stop itself is spacious and comfortable, with stairs and an elevator, signaling that transit riders are expected and accommodated.

Road and intersection design reinforces that priority. Dutch traffic signals give transit vehicles priority when they arrive, then grant safe crossing phases to pedestrians and cyclists based on detection. Pedestrians can cross without pressing buttons and without navigating multiple lanes of fast-moving traffic. Even the road layout is more walkable: instead of a single six-lane “strode,” crossings are broken into narrower segments with a grassy median, reducing the need to scan for gaps and eliminating the feeling of exposure.

The Dutch park also feels inviting to walk through—offices sit beside sidewalks rather than across seas of parking. Buildings and site amenities support that pedestrian experience, including underground parking that doesn’t spill risk onto sidewalks, bicycle access integrated into the architecture, and water management handled through attractive canals rather than ugly stormwater ponds.

The takeaway is blunt: business parks in North America often function as “non-places” where nobody wants to be, and the commuting experience compounds that emptiness. Over time, some improvements may arrive—more frequent buses, for example—but if routes remain circuitous, walking access worsens, and car-first street design persists, the fundamental problem remains. The Netherlands example suggests the fix isn’t one feature; it’s coordinated respect for transit users, reliable service, safe crossings, and a built environment that makes walking, cycling, and riding transit genuinely convenient.