
As someone who’s spent years exploring the deeper layers of money, health, happiness, and purpose, I’ve come to a firm conclusion: real wealth isn’t just about your bank balance. It’s about how you live. How you move. What surrounds you. And what I saw recently in one forward-thinking city completely redefined my vision for the future.
If I had one wish—not just for myself, but for humanity—it wouldn’t be another investment tip or even a personal health breakthrough. It would be something far more radical and far-reaching:
Build our cities for people, not for cars.
This single shift could change everything. It wouldn’t just make traffic jams shorter or your lungs cleaner. It would massively improve the quality of life for billions of people. It would make us wealthier, healthier, happier—and dramatically more connected to our communities.
The Hidden Cost of Car-Centered Cities
Let’s be honest: our cities weren’t built for humans. They were engineered, from the post-war boom onward, around the assumption that everyone would own and drive a car. Streets got wider. Homes got pushed farther apart. Parking became a zoning mandate. And slowly but surely, what could have been walkable, vibrant neighborhoods turned into sprawling, noisy, dangerous landscapes that feel hostile to anyone not behind a steering wheel.
And yet we keep doing it—because it’s familiar.
But here’s the kicker: this car-first design is incredibly expensive, and not just in dollars. It costs us time, health, connection, mental clarity, and joy. We’ve stretched our cities so far apart that we have to drive everywhere, which means we’ve created the very car dependency we think we’re solving.
The irony is thick. The problem isn’t that cities are too big to walk through. It’s that they’re too inefficiently designed to walk through.
A Two-Car Garage or a Two-Bedroom Apartment?
Take a simple comparison. The same amount of land required for two parked cars—about 300 square feet—could also house a compact two-bedroom apartment. Let that sink in. We’ve prioritized vehicle storage over human shelter.
Even more shocking: a typical intersection in a major city takes up about 1.5 acres. That’s enough land to build housing for 200 people, complete with gardens, playgrounds, a café, and still have space left over. Yet we accept it as normal because cars “need” the space.
What if they didn’t?
What if we started building cities where homes, shops, offices, and parks were all within a short bike ride—or better yet, a walk? What if public transport was clean, fast, and pleasant, and roads were safe for children and elders to cross?
This isn’t just a lifestyle shift. It’s a financial revolution.
The $20,000-per-Year Life Upgrade
Living in a car-centric city costs the average American household more than they realize—on vehicles, gas, maintenance, insurance, and the time lost in traffic. But build a city for people, and suddenly all those costs begin to shrink. Now add in lower healthcare costs thanks to increased physical activity, fewer accidents, less pollution-related illness, and more local spending in walkable neighborhoods—and the benefits compound.
It’s not an exaggeration to say the average person could see a $20,000 boost to their life quality and wealth every single year. Multiply that by an adult lifetime, and you’re well into seven-figure territory. On a national level, we’re talking trillions. Trillions in reduced spending, improved health outcomes, increased productivity, and stronger communities.
But Who’s Building These Cities?
Unfortunately, the people currently shaping our cities aren’t visionary futurists. They’re risk-averse bureaucrats answering to outdated zoning boards, defensive neighborhood associations, and decades of car-centric planning dogma. The focus is on preserving what exists, not imagining what’s possible.
Which means real change needs to come from us—from those of us who can see beyond the current asphalt jungle and imagine a better way to live.
Change starts when regular people—citizens, voters, families—begin to demand something better. Not in an abstract way, but by showing what’s possible. Visiting people-first cities. Sharing the math. Telling the stories. Voting for the people who will actually prioritize human-first planning.
“But What About My Commute?”
Of course, whenever you suggest a better idea, the knee-jerk reactions start pouring in.
“Where will I park?”
“I need my car for work!”
“This will never work in my city!”
And sure, change is uncomfortable. No one likes their routine disrupted. But most of these objections come from a place of fear and misunderstanding—not logic.
In reality, cities that have embraced human-first design are thriving. Property values go up. Businesses flourish. People spend more time outside. Crime drops. And residents are healthier and happier.
It’s not just about banning cars. It’s about making cars optional. That means better public transit, more protected bike lanes, mixed-use zoning, and neighborhoods where everything you need is within reach.
That’s not a utopia. That’s just smart, modern urban design.
Reclaiming Our Space—and Our Lives
Look around your city the next time you’re out. Count the empty parking lots. The oversize intersections. The wide roads lined with nothing but gas stations and fast food. All of that space could be housing. Parks. Schools. Farmer’s markets. Skate parks. Art galleries. Shared gardens.
Imagine what our lives would look like if that were the norm—not the exception.
We’ve let cars dominate our urban design for long enough. It’s time to design cities around people again. Real people. With legs, lungs, dreams, and families.
Because when we build for humans, not machines, we don’t just save money.
We create a richer, healthier, more joyful world for everyone.