Spain stands as a global example in a facet that is not always adequately valued: our urban model. Recently, an article titled “Triumph of the Spanish city” was published, outlining, through a historical journey, the major advantages of our cities, such as walkability, vitality, and street life — thanks, in part, to the late adoption of private vehicles due to our economic lag in the mid-20th century. Urbanist Charles Montgomery, author of Happy City, stated in an interview that Barcelona was the dream of any urban planner.
The secret of this triumph — at least in part — is called density. What is density in urban terms? The number of people (or dwellings) residing on a given surface. It may seem a simple question, but it is among the elements with the greatest capacity to condition how a city functions, its economy, social fabric and, related to all of the above, its mobility.
Imagine you own a bakery or any other small business that people typically walk to in order to buy your product. In a low-density model, it is likely that within a ten-minute walking radius there aren’t enough homes to serve as potential customers to make the business profitable. But if within that same radius the number of homes is multiplied by three, it will probably become viable, which will allow you to keep the shop in competition with those large stores reached by private car, where people buy a wide range of products.
“Having within a ten-minute radius a variety of shops and amenities enables a large proportion of trips to be made on foot”
From a complementary perspective, that of the home, having within a ten-minute radius a variety of shops and amenities, which would not be possible without density, allows for a large share of walking trips, since everyday needs can be met in the surrounding environment. Density and proximity mobility are closely related.
In close relation to the above, every society has a mobility system with which it continuously feedbacks itself. Major economic and political transformations tend to be accompanied by changes in the way we move, such as the key role rail played in the Industrial Revolution by allowing the connection of factories and mines, contributing to the rural-to-urban exodus and helping to standardize schedules at an international level.
But the mobility system also has everyday effects, such as the way we relate to the people around us. When most mobility was on foot, we mainly interacted with the people in the immediate surroundings, so the number of connections was limited, albeit very intense. This contributed to communalism, but also to social control, especially against those who did not adapt to the hegemonic norms. The generalization of private vehicles during the 20th century, in addition to widening cities, allowed us to be in multiple places and with multiple people in a single day, increasing the number of potential connections, but possibly weakening many of them. The rise in freedom of movement, together with deep economic, cultural, and family transformations, coincided with the growth of individualism and uprooting that so much social discontent generates today.
“If the twentieth century was the century of the car and speed, the twenty-first century could be the century of proximity”
In part, it is probably this dissatisfaction that is causing the pendulum of mobility to swing back. If the twentieth century was the century of the car and speed, the twenty-first century could be the century of proximity, in which community ties and the sense of belonging to our everyday territory are rebuilt. Dense cities will be important allies in this, and ours have a lot to contribute on this front.
