Rue de Rivoli, a boulevard running through the heart of Paris, has been developed in fits and starts. Napoleon Bonaparte initiated construction in 1802, after years of planning and debate, but work stalled following the emperor’s abdication in 1814.
The boulevard remained in limbo until another military strongman, Napoleon III, completed the project in the 1850s. The next century, construction began again — this time, to accommodate vehicles.
However, this past spring, Rue de Rivoli experienced its fastest transformation yet:
With city traffic subdued by a COVID-19 lockdown, Paris Mayor Anne Hidalgo decided on April 30 last year to close the nearly 3km-long road to vehicles, to create more space for pedestrians and bicyclists. Workers repainted the road and transformed a major artery in central Paris — home of the world-renowned Louvre museum — virtually overnight.
It was not just Rue de Rivoli. Using only paint and screw-in markers, nearly 150km of Parisian roads were temporarily reallocated to cyclists in the early months of the pandemic — a revolution in urban reprogramming. It was later announced that the changes would become permanent.
The Parisian example highlights the extent to which the pandemic has accelerated the pace of urban innovation, compressing what would have taken years into months or even weeks. Beyond highlighting the flaws in pre-pandemic urban systems — such as high levels of pollution — it has allowed city leaders to bypass cumbersome bureaucracy, and respond much more efficiently to the needs of people and businesses.
Those needs are changing fast. One of the most discussed changes relates to the separation of home and work. In the early days of urbanization, people walked to work. Later, they began to take public transport. It was only after World War II and the rise of suburbanization that people began to drive vehicles from their homes to giant factory complexes and office towers.
During the pandemic, remote work has become the rule in many industries — and many companies plan to keep it that way, at least to a large extent. This reintegration of work and home threatens one of the last remaining vestiges of the Industrial Age: central business districts that pack and stack office workers in skyscrapers.
With many workers unlikely to return to their cubicles, old office towers might be transformed into much-needed affordable housing after the pandemic. One-dimensional business districts could become vibrant neighborhoods.
Non-work activities have been transformed as well. Dining, entertainment and fitness have increasingly been moving into the open air, occupying space that used to be designated for vehicles.
So, as with the bike lanes in Paris, the pandemic is creating prototypes for a permanently post-automobile, human-centric city. In fact, the changes in Paris are part of a broader plan to create a “15-minute city” (ville du quart d’heure), where core daily activities — including working, learning and shopping — can be carried out just a short walk or bike ride from home.
So, far from rendering cities obsolete, as some predicted early on, the pandemic has unlocked an ever-broader potential for renaissance — what the economist Joseph Schumpeter famously called “creative destruction” on an urban scale.
The crisis has left governments with little choice, but to adopt a fast-paced, trial-and-error approach. The emergence of extraordinary innovations in pedestrianization, affordable housing and dynamic zoning highlight the power of positive feedback loops.
Nonetheless, a Schumpeterian approach is fundamentally experimental, and even the best-designed experiments sometimes fail. Moreover, the costs of those failures are not borne equally: Those with the least influence tend to suffer the most. For example, the COVID-19 pandemic has disproportionately affected the poor and vulnerable.
In this new age of urban innovation, leaders must take great care to minimize the risks to — and redistribute the returns toward — disadvantaged and vulnerable groups.
That means, first and foremost, listening to them. The Black Lives Matter movement in the US is a powerful example of a disadvantaged group demanding to be heard. Leaders everywhere should pay attention, and address racial and class divides head on. Urban design is central to any such strategy.
To support this process — and help maintain flexibility and speed in urban innovation after the pandemic — leaders should consider creating participatory digital platforms to enable residents to communicate their needs. This could encourage policies that improve quality of life in cities — especially disadvantaged neighborhoods — including by limiting problematic trends, such as rising pollution and gentrification.
Only with an agile and inclusive approach can this once-in-a-century opportunity be seized — or, rather, the urgent obligation to “build back better” be met.
A stroll along Rue de Rivoli today reveals none of the desolation and dullness expected on city streets during the pandemic. Instead, the storied boulevard is bustling with masked Parisians zooming along on bikes, scooters, e-bikes and rollerblades, or pausing for coffee at cafes and restaurants.
A street deadened by the pandemic has been revived. With thoughtful planning, bold experimentation and luck, such transformations can be just the start for cities everywhere.
Carlo Ratti, cofounder of Carlo Ratti Associati, is director of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology’s SENSEable City Lab. Richard Florida is a professor and head of the University of Toronto’s Martin Prosperity Institute.
Copyright: Project Syndicate
Monday was the 37th anniversary of former president Chiang Ching-kuo’s (蔣經國) death. Chiang — a son of former president Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石), who had implemented party-state rule and martial law in Taiwan — has a complicated legacy. Whether one looks at his time in power in a positive or negative light depends very much on who they are, and what their relationship with the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) is. Although toward the end of his life Chiang Ching-kuo lifted martial law and steered Taiwan onto the path of democratization, these changes were forced upon him by internal and external pressures,
Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus whip Fu Kun-chi (傅?萁) has caused havoc with his attempts to overturn the democratic and constitutional order in the legislature. If we look at this devolution from the context of a transition to democracy from authoritarianism in a culturally Chinese sense — that of zhonghua (中華) — then we are playing witness to a servile spirit from a millennia-old form of totalitarianism that is intent on damaging the nation’s hard-won democracy. This servile spirit is ingrained in Chinese culture. About a century ago, Chinese satirist and author Lu Xun (魯迅) saw through the servile nature of
In their New York Times bestseller How Democracies Die, Harvard political scientists Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt said that democracies today “may die at the hands not of generals but of elected leaders. Many government efforts to subvert democracy are ‘legal,’ in the sense that they are approved by the legislature or accepted by the courts. They may even be portrayed as efforts to improve democracy — making the judiciary more efficient, combating corruption, or cleaning up the electoral process.” Moreover, the two authors observe that those who denounce such legal threats to democracy are often “dismissed as exaggerating or
Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) Acting Chairman Huang Kuo-chang (黃國昌) has formally announced his intention to stand for permanent party chairman. He has decided that he is the right person to steer the fledgling third force in Taiwan’s politics through the challenges it would certainly face in the post-Ko Wen-je (柯文哲) era, rather than serve in a caretaker role while the party finds a more suitable candidate. Huang is sure to secure the position. He is almost certainly not the right man for the job. Ko not only founded the party, he forged it into a one-man political force, with himself