Urbanism Isn’t Political — It’s Survival

I didn’t come to urbanism through architecture or policy. I came to it out of fear—for the planet, for the future, for the systems we keep clinging to even as they crumble beneath us.

At some point, I started to realize that the way we build our communities affects everything: our health, our happiness, our climate, our sense of belonging. I saw how our cities were designed not for people, but for cars. I saw how sprawl devours forests and farmland, how zoning laws entrench inequality, how infrastructure isolates instead of connects. And I started asking: What if we did things differently?

“Vibrant City Streets in Harmony” by Astraea.

That’s all urbanism is, really. It’s the question: What if we built places for people, not traffic?

Urbanism has somehow become politicized, but I don’t think it should be. It’s not about left or right—it’s about common sense, compassion, and long-term thinking. It’s about making it easier for someone to walk to the store. About making buses run on time. About making sure that housing is affordable, that streets are safe, and that you don’t have to burn a gallon of gas to buy a loaf of bread.

It’s not radical to want that. What’s radical is pretending that what we have now is working.

I bike because it’s efficient, it’s liberating, and it lets me see the world from a human perspective. I fly drones because I want to witness our landscapes from above—to see what’s possible, and what’s being lost. I built this site to share those perspectives, because I believe the more we see, the more we might change.

Urbanism isn’t a political platform. It’s a survival strategy—for all of us.