Rethinking Urbanism on World Urbanism Day: A Call for Collective Action


Rethinking Urbanism on World Urbanism Day: A Call for Collective Action

Today, on World Urbanism Day, and in the wake of the devastating events in the Valencian Country, we want to underscore the essential role of urban planning in managing our relationship with the environment. This tragic moment reminds us of the profound impact that urbanism has on our ability to adapt and respond to natural events—and that sustainable planning goes beyond just the layout of cities and infrastructure.

Urbanism is not merely about the distribution of spaces; it’s about prioritizing prevention, adaptation, and collective responsibility. As we confront these kinds of challenges, sustainable urban planning becomes a critical tool to minimize risks and protect both lives and ecosystems. When our cities and landscapes are designed with an understanding of the natural environment, we’re able to face these challenges with greater resilience and foresight, reducing the harm to communities and allowing for faster recovery.

However, the process of urban planning cannot be a solitary, office-bound task. It requires the shared commitment of multiple actors—government institutions, social organizations, professionals, and local communities—working in unison. Effective land management demands that we consider not just immediate urban needs, but also the long-term preservation of the landscape and ecosystems that act as natural defenses. Overdevelopment, mass construction, and the sealing of soils increase vulnerability to environmental disasters, while the false certainty that we can simply “engineer” our way out of nature’s course only aggravates these risks.

In light of this, it’s imperative that we come together as a society to rethink the ways we inhabit and shape our spaces—not just to mitigate the effects of extreme weather, but to anticipate and prevent them. On this World Urbanism Day, let’s advocate for a territorial model that respects the land, one that listens to the landscape and adapts to both its needs and those of the people who live there. This requires more than just policy change; it requires a cultural shift toward valuing our environment as a partner, not an obstacle, in our journey toward sustainable and resilient communities.

The urgency of this shift cannot be overstated, especially in a world increasingly affected by climate change. Adopting thoughtful urban planning practices will not only safeguard our communities but also ensure that we leave a livable, resilient environment for future generations. Today, let’s recognize urbanism as a vital component of climate action and commit to building a future that integrates people and the planet with a shared vision of sustainability and respect.

Words of:

Marc Deu Ferrer

Publication date:

08/11/2024

Originally written in:

catalan

Tags:

Everyday life / Sustainable

mobility / Biodiversity /

Public space

Utopias, Dystopias, or UStopias—Whose Imagination Are We Living In?


Utopias, Dystopias, or Ustopias—Whose Imagination Are We Living In?

In the midst of a fully tech-centric Smart City World Expo, Ruha Benjamin’s talk, titled “Utopias, Dystopias, or UStopias: Whose Imagination Are We Living In?”, was a rare gem. While much of the expo focused on cutting-edge technological solutions for urban living, Benjamin reminded us that “smart” doesn’t only apply to technology but to community intelligence, too. Moderated by Femi Oke, with Benjamin, a Professor of African American Studies at Princeton, as the keynote speaker, this session brought a grounding perspective to the event, challenging us to see beyond the high-tech solutions and recognize the potential for collective wisdom and social equity to shape our urban futures.

Benjamin opened her talk by quoting Black feminist writer Toni Cade Bambara: “Not all speed is movement,” a call to reconsider the breakneck pace of tech-driven change. She emphasized that while innovation surges forward, critical voices and vulnerable communities are often sidelined. Highlighting the crises of today—whether through geopolitical violence, socio-economic disparities, or the climate policies exacerbating extreme weather—she argued that technological advances alone do not ensure societal progress. Instead, innovation must be held to higher standards of equity, justice, and transparency.

This call for critical engagement set the stage for a nuanced discussion of two prevailing narratives around technology. On one end is the techno-dystopian view, where technology is seen as a threat that erodes personal agency, displaces jobs, and strips individuals of autonomy. On the other is the techno-utopian ideal, which casts technology as the cure-all for societal issues, making our world more efficient and egalitarian. Benjamin noted a common flaw in both perspectives: they often view technology as an autonomous force, sidelining the people, values, and intentions that create and control these systems. Rather than seeing technology as inevitable or preordained, she argued that we must “remove the screen” to reveal the human agents and power dynamics behind the scenes.

Benjamin illustrated this with the example of the Community Innovation Project in Saint Paul, Minnesota, a data-driven collaboration between local schools and law enforcement aimed at identifying “at-risk” youth. Despite its seemingly positive language of “innovation” and “community,” residents voiced concerns over data usage and the intentions of the institutions involved, which they felt had historically failed local youth. After organized protests, the community successfully halted the project and advocated for reallocating resources directly to the needs of young people without the stigmatizing label of “at-risk.” Here, Benjamin underscored the necessity of both critique and creativity: knowing not just what we oppose, but also envisioning what we want. It is only through this dual lens, she argued, that we can push against the status quo, which often distorts our worldviews and perpetuates inequality.

Taking a global perspective, Benjamin pointed to how unspoken hierarchies are embedded in various societies, from colorblind policies in France to racial stratification in Brazil and caste dynamics in India. These systemic inequalities often hide behind the promise of neutrality or even benevolence, but they shape access, opportunity, and power in profound ways. “What kind of intelligence is shaping our future?” Benjamin asked, challenging us to question whether it is an intelligence rooted in social awareness and equity, or a top-down approach that falsely believes it can “solve” structural problems through technology alone.

One subtle yet powerful example Benjamin cited was the hostile architecture commonly found in public spaces. She described a visit to San Francisco where she saw benches with dividing bars, designed to prevent people from lying down. This design is part of a broader trend of “exclusive” urban spaces that, under the guise of safety or functionality, exclude specific groups, particularly the homeless. From spiked benches to individual seating, hostile architecture illustrates how public spaces are subtly, yet deliberately, shaped to dictate who is welcome and who is not. 

Benjamin also addressed state surveillance in so-called smart cities, where technologies like facial recognition and drones are deployed not only to monitor migrants but to control urban residents. Such tools, she argued, often reinforce racial and social hierarchies. She pointed to recent cases in Germany where social media surveillance has been used to deny rights or revoke citizenship of individuals supporting liberation movements, such as for Palestine. These surveillance practices, marketed as security measures, often reflect underlying biases and serve to maintain unequal power structures.

The talk culminated in the concept of “ustopia,” a term coined by author Margaret Atwood that merges “utopia” and “dystopia” to suggest a hybrid reality shaped collectively. Benjamin proposed that unlike utopias or dystopias, which seem to happen to us, ustopias are spaces we actively create, envisioning realities where inclusivity and justice are prioritized. This “grammar” of ustopia, she argued, offers a powerful framework for resistance and transformation. She shared a story of a French village where residents rejected hostile benches and advocated for an inclusive public space, an example of how communities worldwide are already challenging exclusionary norms and reimagining their environments.

To close, Benjamin called for a reclamation of collective imagination as a tool for social transformation. She critiqued the notion of “artificial intelligence” as a one-size-fits-all solution and urged instead for a mindset of “abundant imagination.” Drawing on ancestral knowledge and community wisdom, she envisioned a future where technology doesn’t alienate but empowers, harmonizing with people and the planet rather than dominating them. 

In this expansive exploration, Benjamin left the audience with a powerful challenge: to rethink the systems shaping our lives and to take an active role in designing a society that values interdependence and equity over speed and scale. Her call to action invites each of us to be co-creators of a more humane, inclusive, and just future.

Words of:

Konstantina Chrysostomou

Publication date:

08/11/2024

Originally written in:


English

Tags:

Everyday life / Sustainable

mobility / Biodiversity / Public

space

Why Climate Mitigation in Mediterranean Cities is More Essential Than Ever


Why Climate Mitigation in Mediterranean Cities is More Essential Than Ever

The recent DANA storm that struck the Valencia region has served as a sobering reminder of the increasing climate risks facing our Mediterranean cities. Severe flooding disrupted daily life, damaged homes, and left entire communities struggling to recover. We are deeply sorry for the hardships that people have faced as a result of these extreme weather events, which are becoming alarmingly frequent, especially in the Mediterranean basin, a region known for its vulnerability to climate change impacts, including prolonged droughts, intense heatwaves, rising sea levels, and flash flooding. This reality calls for a profound shift in how we plan, build, and protect our urban spaces.

Addressing climate change in Mediterranean cities requires more than simply reinforcing infrastructure; it demands a reimagining of public spaces as resilient, adaptable, and inclusive hubs for community life. Given the region’s heightened exposure to environmental risks, effective climate mitigation calls for innovative strategies like green infrastructure, flood-absorbent landscapes, and heat-resilient designs that provide shade and cooling effects in densely populated areas. Beyond physical improvements, the human dimension is equally vital: citizen cooperation and engagement are key to creating urban areas that genuinely serve all residents.

True resilience is born from community collaboration, where local voices play an active role in shaping and sustaining their environments. Involving residents in the development of urban strategies fosters a collective commitment to shared spaces and promotes environmental stewardship. Through initiatives such as community-led greening projects, sustainable water management systems, and the redesign of public spaces to prioritize accessibility and safety, cities can adapt in ways that are not only practical but deeply rooted in the values and needs of the community. When these efforts are informed by urban pedagogy—where citizens learn about and actively participate in the urban planning process—the results are more sustainable and resilient cities that are ready to confront future challenges. 

The Mediterranean’s unique climate demands that we consider the specific needs of diverse groups within our cities. Planning for resilience in this region must take into account various perspectives, from gender and intercultural needs to accessibility and children’s requirements. Public spaces should be designed not only to endure environmental stresses but to serve as gathering points where all individuals feel safe, welcome, and connected to their community. By integrating these perspectives, we can create a sense of shared ownership that encourages social cohesion, mental well-being, and physical health.

Moreover, by strengthening social bonds, inclusive urban resilience efforts amplify the capacity of Mediterranean cities to withstand and recover from climate shocks. Community-driven, place-based approaches cultivate trust and a sense of responsibility toward public spaces, empowering residents to act as stewards of their environment. This holistic approach to urban design means cities can offer spaces that are adaptable, responsive, and aligned with the needs of those who use them most. When urban strategies include diverse voices, cities become more than just resilient; they evolve into thriving environments that enhance quality of life through safety, accessibility, and connectedness.

Each step toward a more climate-resilient Mediterranean city is a step toward preserving our communities for generations to come. This work is not only environmentally responsible but vital for safeguarding the health, safety, and overall quality of life of our neighbors, families, and future residents. Mediterranean cities that prioritize people, place, and planet equally will become models of sustainable urban living, where climate adaptation meets social inclusion. With every community-driven initiative, we build a foundation of resilience that allows our cities to face climate challenges while fostering a spirit of unity, belonging, and shared purpose.

Words of:

Konstantina Chrysostomou

Publication date:

31/10/2024

Originally written in:


English

Tags:

Everyday life / Sustainable

mobility / Biodiversity /

Public space

Corona street

Corona street

El carrer Corona s’ha fet estret. Ara, des de l’entradeta de casa, al número 21, sentim els pardalets a qualsevol hora del dia, veiem les veïnes trastejar a les finestres, i dóna un sol espectacular. Que segur que abans també donava, però no sabiem el seu horari de visita.

Estos dies l’hem arreglada, l’entradeta. Hem posat els nostres noms cal·ligrafiats a la bústia. Hem instal·lat una lleixa de castanyer, pulida i envernissada. És xicoteta, no fa ni dos pams de llarg, i està feta amb la fusta d’una antiga artesa de salar de vés a saber on. A la lleixa es recolza un test amb una heura ressuscitada, i hi penja un fanalet de vidre bufat, sostingut amb una xarxa de corda teixida amb molt d’ofici.

Eixim a l’entradeta a fer el cafè. Alhora, la veïna d’unes portes més enllà, la número 15, agrana primer i arruixa després la vorera de davant de sa casa, com per fer net després que tothom hagués marxat al tall a guanyar-se les garrofes. En realitat ningú no ha marxat de casa.

Com que el carrer s’ha encollit i estem més a prop, la conversa es fila més ràpid, i en un moment Adela ens està contant a nosaltres i a Miquel (asomat a la finestra del primer pis del 14), que quan ella era fadrina, el carrer també era així, petitó. I els veïns i veïnes el tancaven als cotxes per sopar juntes o per eixir a la fresca els vespres de bon oratge.

Miquel somriu, i atropella el relat amb el seu propi, de tantes ganes d’explicar els records que la història d’Adela li ha despertat. Al seu poble també tancaven el carrer Corona cada diumenge. Disputaven partides de pilota a mà. Jugaven a llargues, lo menos, quatre o cinc joves per banda. Mig barri s’hi acostava a veure la partida que, quan era senyalada, omplia l’aforament: voreres, finestres i balcons atapeïts d’ulls que seguien els tantos d’extrem a extrem del carrer. Quin gust vore’l tan plenet de gent! Que aplaudia i cridava. Que reia o feia carasses, segons el joc.

Nosaltres els comentàvem que quina sort que el carrer Corona s’haja tornat a fer estret. Que no cal ni tallar-lo als cotxes per xerrar una estona qualsevol. Que la lleixa i el fanalet vénen del nord, i que quina acció de cura tan bonica i tan poc reconeguda és netejar una part de la vorera de totes. Que també tenim arrels al sud, i que ens encantaria organitzar aquí mateix una partida de llargues en quant les circumstàncies ho permeten.

 

* Referències

Text inspirat en els estudis de Donald Appleyard sobre l’impacte del trànsit de vehicles en la vida veïnal:

Imatge: Reproducció digital del diagrama de les connexions socials al carrer (Appleyard, 1969).  Les línies representen conexions socials, i els punts identifiquen els llocs de trobada de la gent.

Words of:

Arnau Boix i Pla

Publication date:

26/04/2020

Originally written in:

catalan

Tags:

Everyday life / Sustainable mobility / Public space

Your right of window

Your right of window

Perfilava el traçat amb pinzell i una concentració desmesurada. Abstreta de tot el que passarà al seu voltant -que, per altra banda, era més bé poc- i absolutament determinada a completar el propòsit de decorar les finestres de sa casa. O, per ser més precisa, de decorar la façana de sa casa des de les finestres a tot el que li arribarà el braç, el pinzell i les imprudents -si no suïcides- acrobàcies que executava en favor del màxim alcanç de la pintura.

Xica, que cauràs! Li va etzibar un vianant des de la vorera d’enfront, tot aturant-se per mirar que el seu propi crit no en fos el detonant profètic. La pintora, molt calmadament, va completar el moviment circular del seu canell, apurant la darrera sucada. Va abaixar el genoll de l’ampit i, ja amb el seu centre de gravetat fora del va, al menjador de casa, es va girar cap al viaestant.

Li agrada? Va dir l’habitant. Els blaus solquen el mur com unes crineres pentinades amb rastrell, emergeixen de tot l’ample de la llinda, i s’allunyen del perímetre de la finestra, canviant de gruix durant el traçat, i completant dos voltes i mitja en forma d’espiral. Són uns blaus forts, foscos, que amb l’absorció de la paret es flanquegen de verd marí. D’aquest degradat germinen, amb naturalitat vivificant, fulles, branques, arbres, arremolinats amb el feix de filaments del pinzell.

Els colors són bonics… però eixa no és la bona qüestió. I quina és per vosté la bona qüestió? Doncs que estàs pintant el carrer sense permís. Estic pintant ma casa. Però sóc jo qui veu el que pintes, des del carrer, tu en canvi no ho pots gaudir. Crec que ací s’equivoca, jo gaudisc pintant-ho, gaudisc pensant que els veïns i veïnes ho poden veure, i jo mateixa ho podré veure quan isca al carrer… Els dos oradors suspiren alhora, les últimes quatre paraules s’han quedat impreses en l’aire i s’hi estan uns segons, com volent ser llegides per molta més gent. Però no hi ha ningú més al carrer, i s’esfumen.

Doncs també tens raó xica, pinta lo que vullgues. La veritat és que a mí m’agrada, i si tinguérem totes les cases decorades aixina, l’espai públic seria més alegre i acollidor. Pausa. Pensant-ho bé és una iniciativa preciosa, per què no pintes la resta de cases del carrer?

La proposta que em fa m’afalaga… però eixa no és la bona qüestió. Que jo em senta amb la llibertat de pintar-lo i vosté amb la llibertat d’opinar-lo ja fa l’espai públic més alegre i acollidor. Encara diria més, el fet mateix que vosté i jo estiguem mantenint aquesta conversa fa l’espai públic.

Ara és un somriure el que es queda imprès en l’aire, un de sol, compartit, reflexiu, còmplice, revelador. Fins que el triple xiulit d’un policia el fulmina. Final del partit. El viaestant mamprèn la marxa, l’habitant la pintura.

 

* Referències 

Text inspirat en l’obra de Friedensreich Hundertwasser i el seu activisme pel dret a la ciutat:

Imatge: Reproducció digital de l’obra Green Town (1973-1978), de Friedensreich Hundertwasser.

Words of:

Arnau Boix i Pla

 

Publication date:

13/04/2020

Originally written in:

catalan

Tags:

Everyday life / Public space