Redesigning the City (1)

The next afternoon, in the conference room adjoining the mayor's office at Yeojin City Hall.

On an ordinary day, rescheduling a meeting this quickly would have been nearly impossible. My own calendar was packed, and these three surely had projects of their own to juggle, so coordinating everyone's schedules would have taken time.

And yet, remarkably, the three public architects had made it to Yeojin City in a single day.

I knew exactly why. Their reason for coming was simple: the chance to realize the picture they had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠always dreamed of drawing had finally arrived.

Anyone who works in urban planning generates the thought it could be so much better if we did it this way a thousand times over. And again and again, those ideas collapse under the weight of practical constraints and the resistance of entrenched interests.

But what if you were handed a genuine opportunity to design an ideal city? Opportunities like that don't come often — so of course you drop everything and run.

Once upon a time, I had been one of them. In my previous life, I had studied urban planning and dreamed of building an ideal city myself.

Instead, reality meant living as the lowliest of the low at a planning consultancy, churning out formalistic plans tailored to whatever city hall happened to demand.

Whatever the reasons, in the end I gave up on the dream.

But now, I was the mayor. And the chance to revive that dream had come knocking.

The three public architects entered the conference room.

Kang Seo-jin, Yoon Yi-hyun, and Jo Min-hyuk — all in their mid-thirties. Young architects born and raised in Korea, yet each carried a different background, and each, in their own way, wanted to change cities.

Perhaps because Cho Yeon-woo, head of the Citizen Space Design Division, had briefed them thoroughly beforehand, there was no awkwardness. We went straight to business.

"Thank you for inviting us, Mr. Mayor."

The first to speak was Kang Seo-jin.

Trained in France, he was an expert on car-free streets.

"I've seen firsthand how transformative pedestrian-centered cities can be. Take cars out of the equation, and a city gains a whole new vitality. Especially when reviving an old downtown — use a car-free street well, and the entire city can be reborn."

I nodded.

We were already running a car-free street project in the old downtown, but handing it to him might mean it could be reimagined in a completely new way.

The next to speak was Yoon Yi-hyun.

"Architect Kang is right. But simply creating a car-free street won't solve everything. People need to be able to linger in that space."

She was a specialist in plaza and park design.

"You need open space alongside the car-free street. A place where people naturally gather and spend time. Yeojin City, in particular, is desperately short of places like that — places where you can simply stay."

Her words resonated deeply with me.

Eliminating cars alone wasn't enough. You had to place plazas and parks within that space. Only then would it become a place people could genuinely enjoy.

Finally, Jo Min-hyuk opened his mouth.

"Architect Kang takes the car-free street, Architect Yoon takes the plazas and parks. Then I'll take on the public architecture projects that wrap around all of those spaces."

He was a proven veteran who had handled a wide range of public architecture projects across the country.

"We can't just leave the old buildings of the downtown to rot, can we? We need to run public architecture projects alongside them — cafés, libraries, workshops, exhibition spaces. That's how the car-free street, the plazas, and the parks become organically connected to one another."

I looked back and forth between the three of them.

A car-free street.

Plazas and parks beside it.

And public architecture enclosing the whole.

Exactly the people I needed most, all gathered in one room. Was heaven lending a hand? How had I managed to find people like this?

I smiled and said, "Excellent. Then let's begin — we're going to remake Yeojin City from the ground up."

And so the real meeting to transform this city began.

I gazed out the window for a moment. Following my eyes, the other three looked out as well.

Beyond the conference room windows lay the old downtown of Yeojin City.

Narrow, worn-out streets. Cars packed bumper to bumper. Illegal signs squatting on every sidewalk.

It had been exactly one week since I declared this place would become a car-free street.

I had made a big show of committing to it, and the citizens had agreed.

But drawing the actual blueprint — that wasn't something I could do myself. Well, I could in principle, but you don't just sit down and hammer out CAD drawings overnight. I'm the mayor, after all.

I spread the maps and reports across the conference table and looked at Kang Seo-jin. He already seemed to know what I was about to say.

"How are things looking, Mr. Mayor?"

"Not easy," I said. "The backlash is as fierce as we expected."

"The moment we announced the car-free street, the merchants rose up in arms. They say business will collapse — that customers only come because cars can drive through."

"So we held an information session."

"We told them: only when we move away from a car-centered street does it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠become a street people walk — and that, in the end, is what revitalizes commerce."

"Things have quieted down for now. Of course, it's still a time bomb. The city needs to show them a good picture, and soon. Words alone won't cut it anymore."

Kang Seo-jin nodded.

"Naturally. This is all new to the merchants, and the customers right in front of them will always matter more."

I pointed at the map and continued.

"So we've put forward a few alternatives."

"But Mr. Mayor," he said, "those measures… their effect will be negligible."

I looked at him. He already knew the answer, just as I did.

Kang Seo-jin smiled and began sketching something on a sheet of paper.

"Shall I make a proposal of my own?"

I nodded.

"A car-free street must not become merely 'a street with no cars.'"

"How so?"

"It's not enough to eliminate cars — you have to make people want to stay. That means you don't just block the roadway. You have to transform the space itself, completely."

He lifted his pen and kept drawing.

"Look here. You divide the former roadway into three zones. First, the central pedestrian corridor — a wide path where people can walk comfortably. Second, street trees and light rest areas — benches, small pocket plazas, elements like that. And third, outdoor space in front of the shops — support so that the stores themselves can extend out into the street."

I raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Extending the storefronts?"

"Yes. Think about why the merchants oppose this. They say customers only come because cars pass by, right? So what if, instead of cars, we turn the road into space where customers can sit? We help the cafés, restaurants, and bookshops make use of outdoor space."

I studied Kang Seo-jin's sketch closely.

"Then it stops being a simple 'car-free street'… and becomes a street people want to linger on."

He smiled.

"Precisely, Mr. Mayor. A car-free street doesn't succeed just by removing cars. It has to become a space people naturally want to come to and stay in. And once it does, the merchants benefit too."

In truth, I already knew this approach well.

The problem was execution. When I gave the order, everyone understood it in principle — but in the actual planning process run by the civil servants, the picture never came out right.

Because, at present, the City Hall Urban Planning Division had almost no civil servants who could actually draw.

Whenever such a task arose, they had only ever learned to outsource it to a planning or architecture consultancy. They themselves had neither the skill nor the capability.

Some of them had surely majored in urban planning once upon a time.

But years of nothing but drafting administrative documents had left their skills undeveloped — atrophied, really. That was why I had summoned genuinely capable people here myself.

Kang Seo-jin's proposal was excellent.

But one crucial piece was missing. Under Korea's Road Act, occupying the road in front of a shop was impossible.

In a country like France it was trivially easy, but in Korea, building a terrace in front of your store and running it like a sidewalk café was illegal.

To permit it required a separate municipal ordinance.

In my previous life, I had planned a similar project. And in the end, all I got from the administrative officer was "there's no ordinance for that, so it's impossible" — and I had to give up on the spot.

And this time?

Right now, I was the mayor. If an ordinance was needed, then we would write one. All that remained was persuading the city council.

I turned to Cho Yeon-woo, head of the Citizen Space Design Division, who was seated with us.

"Draft an Outdoor Terrace Ordinance for street revitalization — starting now. Paris has a similar ordinance, so use it as your reference. As far as I know, no local government in Korea has one yet. So drop any thought of borrowing from other regions — proceed on the assumption that we're writing it first."

Cho Yeon-woo nodded, taking rapid notes, and I continued.

"And consult with the city council to find one councilor who will introduce the ordinance in their own name. Don't route it through administrative introduction — push it as a councilor-sponsored bill, and the council will receive it far more favorably."

The conference room fell silent for a moment.

Kang Seo-jin, who had been listening, nodded slowly and spoke.

"Mr. Mayor, we're designers, so we never paid much attention to the legal side — but there was a reason for all those dead ends, wasn't there? We've made proposal after proposal over the years, and somehow they'd always get discussed and then buried."

I answered with a smile.

"Municipal administration isn't that simple. I'll build the groundwork so that the pictures you draw can ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠become reality. So don't worry about any of that — just bring me your very best design. I'll make sure it's realized exactly as you drew it."

Then I summed up the core of the project once more.

"We restructure the existing street so the shops can use outdoor space, plant street trees, place benches and rest areas — and turn a street that merely has no cars into a street where people want to stay. We'll run it as a pilot first, so the merchants and citizens can genuinely feel the difference."

Kang Seo-jin smiled with evident satisfaction.

"Now that's how we build a proper car-free street."

Once my discussion with Kang Seo-jin was done, I turned to the other architect in the room.

Yoon Yi-hyun. Having studied public space design in France, she was an expert who had spent years researching pedestrian-centered urban space.

While Kang Seo-jin worked out the basic framework of the car-free street, she had been quietly organizing her materials. And at last, when my eyes met hers, she spoke.

"Mr. Mayor, the car-free street project is heading in the right direction. But one important problem remains."

I nodded and asked, "You mean there's nowhere for people to stay, right?"

She nodded with a smile.

"Exactly. A car-free street on its own isn't enough. All you're left with is a road where cars don't drive — and if there's no space for people to linger, they simply won't use it."

I pointed to the map of Yeojin City spread across the desk.

"Which is why we need to add plazas and parks?"

Yoon Yi-hyun spread out her materials and walked me through them.

"Yes. Mr. Mayor, look at the cities of France and Europe — time and again, the car-free streets come paired with 'open space.' That's what plazas and parks are. You walk along the street, and then, quite naturally, there's somewhere you can sit down and rest."

I went through her materials with keen interest.

The plazas and parks at the hearts of European cities weren't mere rest areas — they played a central role in animating the city itself.

"Then where in Yeojin City would be the right place for a space like that?"

Yoon Yi-hyun pointed at the map.

"Mr. Mayor, take a look — where's the largest open space in Yeojin's old downtown?"

I followed her finger across the map. And I understood immediately.

"Here… the existing parking lot."

Yoon Yi-hyun nodded.

"Yes, exactly. It's served as the old downtown's parking lot for years, but every utilization survey shows more than half of it sitting empty. If we turned this space from a mere parking lot into a plaza, the city would gain an entirely new center."

I studied the map, thinking it through.

Turn this into a plaza, and it would connect naturally with the car-free street. But one practical problem remained.

"The citizens will object to losing parking spaces."

As if she'd prepared for exactly that, Yoon Yi-hyun pulled out her tablet and brought up a new screen.

"Which is why I've prepared an alternative. We don't reduce parking capacity — we secure new parking in the surrounding area."

I looked at her and shook my head.

"That's difficult on budgetary grounds. Building an underground parking structure takes a massive outlay. At Yeojin's current ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fiscal scale, we simply can't afford it."