The Importance of the Happy City
In Happy City, Charles Montgomery explores the important question: Is urban design really powerful enough to make or break happiness? After years of living in an urban environment, I say absolutely. Montgomery presents concepts, questions, and examples that examine and challenge people’s needs, lifestyles, and interactions. My question is: Why haven’t we focused more on whether we have the power to improve life for everyone?
Montgomery uses historical perspectives on city design to illustrate the original intentions behind the relationship between city-dwellers and the urban environment—intentions shaped by urban designers. Some designers prioritize happiness, others emphasize accessibility, and some value independence, separation, and privacy. What I discovered, as I worked through this journey filled with historical examples of urban communities, is that the city is ultimately a shared project—a place where we can build a common good that none of us can create alone.
The City of Today
What I find incredible about Happy City is how it explains that we, as Americans, have inherited an urban culture that is broken, outdated, inefficient, unhealthy, and—most importantly—not designed for us. Early in American history, automakers heavily influenced how people traveled. Misinformation and naivete led us to build societies around the perceived need to drive.
Happy City tells us that American cities throughout the 20th century were shaped by two major design ideologies:
The School of Separation helped cities justify zoning that divided residential styles, commercial areas, and broader communities. This separation excluded many mixed-use buildings and affordable housing, leading to dispersed neighborhoods and a lack of shared spaces. Inflexible, outdated zoning codes prevent cities from evolving to meet residents’ needs, instead favoring outside developers and those with political influence. Separation has killed community.
[The] great irony of the American city: a nation that celebrates freedom and weaves liberty into its national myth rarely gives regular people the chance to shape their own communities (Montgomery 306).
Then there's the School of Speed, which forever changed our streets. Streets were once shared public spaces. Now, cities run major roads through their cores, designed primarily for car-owners and no one else. This prioritization of speed has marginalized pedestrians, cyclists, children, older adults, low-income residents, and others. It has excluded non-car owners from using streets, consumed public funds for infrastructure they can’t access, and eliminated alternative public spaces.
Montgomery explains that these two schools enabled a form of efficient development. In the 20th century, suburban sprawl spread rapidly across the U.S. But these models are deeply inefficient in other ways. They hinder community life, resource distribution, diversity, transportation options, and adaptability. These neglected aspects of urban life are critical to a city-dweller’s happiness, as Montgomery shows. Unfortunately, these outdated ideas have left us in a difficult position when it comes to shaping a better future.
What Can Be Done?
In a time when urban gentrification and development can happen overnight, it’s crucial to understand why these changes occur. Urban systems today do not reflect an altruistic effort to solve shared challenges. Instead, they reveal who holds power—and who doesn’t. Power shapes the mind and soul of the city.
We need leaders to take deliberate, collective action to improve life for everyone. Companies like IBM and Cisco are already leveraging technology and data to enhance urban living. But are these efforts pushing governments to implement lasting change? Google’s Sidewalk Labs, for example, aims to improve city life through urban technologies that address affordability, transportation efficiency, and energy use. Innovative companies should be at the forefront of this movement.
The city is an idea to which each citizen contributes and from which each citizen should benefit (Montgomery 249).
Happy City offers thoughtful suggestions for how we can improve our urban communities. It identifies common challenges we’ll face together and outlines the roles that both citizens and governments must play to ensure equal rights, access, health, and happiness. After all, our fate is a shared one.
My Happy City
I moved to Washington, DC in 2012 from a suburban bubble called Ann Arbor, Michigan—a wonderful, imperfect place I still encourage you to visit. Since then, I’ve lived in six apartments across six neighborhoods and plan to keep exploring before I finally “settle down.” Each neighborhood had its perks, but one stood out to me: Columbia Heights.
Historically, Columbia Heights was home to Columbian College, now known as George Washington University, before it moved to Foggy Bottom. Since then, the neighborhood has undergone dramatic transformation over the last hundred years. But to avoid turning this into a history lesson, I’ll just share what makes Columbia Heights special to me.
The DC Metro bisects the neighborhood along 14th Street NW, giving residents easy access to locations throughout the city. I commuted on it to my office in Maryland for 18 months. The Metro line also gave outsiders access to the neighborhood, serving as a catalyst for economic development. Today, 14th Street is lined with local businesses, restaurants, and vibrant public life—street performers, artists, and kids playing in Tivoli Square. The list goes on.
Columbia Heights embodies what I want in a community.
I want accessibility. I could take the Metro to Maryland or Virginia and fly anywhere in the country within hours. Buses ran throughout the neighborhood. I could find everything I needed at local stores, the weekend farmers market, or the shopping center. And if I happened to get seriously injured along the way, a hospital was just minutes down the road (though the sirens took some getting used to).
I want diversity. In the 2010 census, “White” was the third-largest demographic group in Columbia Heights at 23%. In addition to ethnic diversity, the neighborhood is home to several public schools (I lived across the street from Tubman Elementary), which creates a wide age range. Kids played outside my building while adults brunched down the block. A range of housing options—from subsidized units to row homes to luxury apartments—keeps the neighborhood accessible for many.
I want a community. I want shared public spaces where I can be outside, walk, socialize, people-watch, read, and enjoy the environment. I want plant life. I want walkable areas where streets respect pedestrians and cyclists as much as drivers. I want to feel connected to and empathetic toward my neighbors. I’m from the Midwest—we’re nice people.
From Charles
I tweeted out this piece shortly after writing it and Charles, himself, chimed in:
Irony: America celebrates freedom but rarely gives people chance to shape own communities. Thx @chrisbowerbank http://t.co/CpV5o05PgY
— Happy City (@thehappycity) June 16, 2015