I loved cars as a kid. The memory of the first supercar I saw drive by is etched
into my memory; an Audi R8, dark blue with a pearlescent paint that made its reflections
shine aquamarine. I still love cars to this day, and, while that love is not gone, I can’t
help but remember endlessly biking up and down the driveway because I was told to not
go beyond my street, lest I get hit. As a child, I did not have the agency to go beyond
the bounds of my neighborhood—I only gained that when I got my license to drive.

While I was overjoyed to have that freedom, so was there a feeling of
resentment. My father told me how, in his childhood, he and his friends would bike
everywhere, how he loved playing in the streets with his neighborhood friends, and I
could not help but think of how different my childhood had been.

Years later, I had the great fortune of studying abroad in Amsterdam, a city that is known for its phenomenal pedestrian-oriented transportation. Every day I spent in Amsterdam, I walked miles
along bustling avenues, filled with people and a lively sense of community. I saw
unaccompanied children biking throughout the city, and, ostensively, no adult expressed
concern. The streets felt safe because of what famed urbanist Jane Jacobs called ‘eyes
on the street’—places become safe when people inhabit them, serving as communal
surveillance. It was wonderful. I felt at home despite being an ocean away, and, as an
added benefit, I was perhaps the most active I had ever been.

While many Americans regularly try to improve their physical activity and health
by signing up for gym memberships or cardio classes, it is often forgotten that, before
the popular presence of commercial gyms, residents in pre-automotive cities got a
significant portion of their physical activity from simply walking to work, the store, or
wherever else their needs necessitate they go. A 2023 women’s health study found that
those in the more walkable neighborhoods of New York City had lower rates of obesity
and were 26% less likely to develop 13 different obesity-related cancers, which the
authors note that it comprises 55% of all diagnosed cancers among women and 24% among men.
They state the study is among “growing evidence of how urban design affects the health
and well-being of aging populations” and that walkable cities provide a more sustainable
and effective alternative to individual-level initiatives deemed costly and short-term.

Growing ranks of urban activists and urban planners are working to reshape the
American city to promote walkability, public transportation investment, and easier
access to residents’ daily needs. Recent years have brought the concept of a ’15-minute
city’ to the forefront in urban policy and advocacy; the concept centers on providing
access to one’s daily needs, including healthcare, education, food, work, and shopping,
within a 15-minute walk, bike ride, or public transit ride.

Proponents claim the urban planning model would promote ecological sustainability, local economic development, human health, and community vitality. Such efforts have gained traction across the
world, including in cities such as Guangzhou, Dubai, and Melbourne, and Paris.
Everything that the ’15-minute city’ embodies is what I found most endearing
about Amsterdam. Yet, there was a period between 1950 and 1970 where significant
plans were initiated to convert the city and accommodate cars, which meant its old buildings and narrow streets would be torn down, making way for a new system of highways. That was until a coalition, including environmentalists, neighborhood associations, and the city’s cyclist union, protested the plans, occupied streets, and demanded the city be rebuilt for pedestrians. For Amsterdam, it took action from the people to build a city for the people. And while the cost and effort associated with
rebuilding a city appears immense, its effects ripple beyond the streets and into those
that inhabit them; with it comes new possibilities to center community, culture, and
health in our neighborhoods, institutions, and policies. Healthy choices are not simply in
and of the mind—they are also reflected in the world surrounding us; as such, urban
planning, in its role in shaping the world, must not be understood as separate from its
influence on health and disease prevention.

Thomas Dolinka is a recent graduate of Michigan State University’s James Madison
College of Public Affairs. Receiving a degree in Social Relations & Policy, he employs
his interdisciplinary background to write on the intersections between cancer prevention
and politics, economics, urban planning, and more.