Politicians huff and planners puff, but for better or worse it’s developers who build the place up. Though most aren’t particularly good at it, they’re the ones who put their money where the city’s mouth is.

Municipal officials do what they can to make bad projects good and just as often to make good projects bad. In either case, the city is always in reaction mode. Though mediocrity is ubiquitous, a few developers have moved beyond the bottom line to a point where they see the city not just as a cash cow but an investment worth making. Compare their projects, which are fully engaged in the urban context, with those that are in the city but not quite of it.

Two recent Toronto developments, The Well (at Front and Spadina) and Mirvish Village (the Honest Ed’s site at Bloor and Bathurst), represent the sort of projects cities can only hope for. Rather than fill the property with monolithic structures designed by accountants disguised as architects, these schemes embrace and celebrate the city in all its complexity.

Complexity, of course, is another hobgoblin of little minds, especially those of developers and planners. How much simpler it is to reduce a project to necessities and eliminate all the costly details that make things interesting — and expensive. The modernists, who remain largely in control, were good at this. Think of St. James Town, that agglomeration of midrise towers built in the 1960s for smart young people. They’ve all left and its 19-odd buildings now look cheap and depressingly dull. Even worse, at ground level there’s nothing to enliven this earnest but deadly precinct.

The planning orthodoxies and architectural verities of the day, which viewed communities as a series of systems, were based on ideas and theories that had little to do with what people need, let alone want.

The worst excesses of 20th-century modernism are no longer acceptable, but you don’t have to go far to find the updated version. Today’s St. James Towns are made of glass and steel instead of concrete, and they sit on podiums occupied by lowest-common-denominator retail outlets. They’re much more attractive, but what will they look like when they’ve been around as long as the originals? One thing’s certain, they won’t be pretty.

Much of this is justified in the name of density. As projects like The Well and Mirvish Village make clear, however, there are other ways to achieve that goal. The former, a large, 7.8-acre mixed-use community, includes highrise and lowrise buildings in addition to structures new and old that perform a full range of functions. Walkways run through the site between Wellington, Front and Spadina. Unlike St. James Town, The Well addresses the surrounding streets. Drawings show a place that outsiders would use for anything from taking a shortcut to sitting down for a coffee.

Similarly, Mirvish Village includes a variety of building types and sizes. It embodies diversity and will have space for small shops as well as large. Its location on one of the most important intersections in Toronto can easily handle the intensification. This is a corner that desperately needs it. And by integrating existing buildings with new construction, Mirvish Village will avoid that monolithic look so characteristic of mega-developments. It’s also a pedestrian-oriented precinct focused on passersby as well as residents.

In other words, both schemes avoid the temptation to differentiate and separate themselves from their neighbours. Instead, they make it clear they would rather fit in and belong to the larger context of the city. This may not sound significant, but in the age of the gated community, the guarded “luxury” condo and enforced exclusivity, the shift to openness and shared urbanity marks a turning point of sorts.

The development industry is growing up, not always happily, but Mirvish Village and The Well are prime examples of a new sophistication. They understand that the city is their greatest asset, not simply something to be tolerated. Despite the suburban mindset that dominates city council, more people than ever are choosing to live downtown.

It doesn’t help that city-building is a lost art and that the civic bureaucracy can be the biggest obstacle to excellence. Timid, rule-bound and suffocating in red tape, official Toronto has never been more dependent on the mindfulness of developers. Neither have Torontonians.

Christopher Hume’s column appears weekly. He can be reached at jcwhume4@gmail.com