Stories like this focus on technology, but I think the more accurate narrative is that top-down, pre-planned design urban design is just a bad idea that comes a

Stories like this focus on technology, but I think the more accurate narrative is that top-down, pre-planned design urban design is just a bad idea that comes around roughly once a generation. It never works, but it appeals to people so much that they ignore the mistakes of the past. Le Corbusier died in 1965, so it's about time for another iteration. For architects, green field development is a chance to realize their dreams without constraint. For analysts and intellectuals, it's a chance to properly test theories and get clean, measurable data. For politicians, it's a way to receive full credit for a project and avoid the backlash from disrupting existing cities. For urban reformers who are burned out on the slow, uneven process of updating ancient cities, starting from scratch is a chance to improve things cheaply and escape dependency issues. For contractors and technologists, it's a chance to sell profitable end-to-end services. But for everyone who lives there, it sucks. The same way Joel Spolsky reminds us that the warts on old software often serve real purposes, old cities are full of concessions to climate, travel patterns, consumer needs, and general sanity. Lucio Costa might want symmetry, lack of sprawl, and clear traffic lanes, but the people stuck living in the piloto of Brasilia want memorable layouts, walkable streets, and gradual expansion. The silliest thing about most sci-fi cities is that they're all gleaming spires and high-tech grandeur. As you say, the cities of the future will grow from the cities and towns of the present. Any vision worth attempting needs to leave room for the people and the history already there.