Designing Cities for Belonging: Why Inclusion Is the Missing Link in Urban Planning

Cities dominate today’s global imagination — as engines of economic growth, centres of innovation, and laboratories for new ideas in governance and technology. Yet, amid the focus on infrastructure, efficiency and scale, the most basic element of urban life is often overlooked: the people who live in cities, arrive in them, and remake them every day. The growing disconnect between the cities we design, the cities we aspire to inhabit, and the cities we actually experience reveals a crucial missing link in modern urban planning.

The unspoken cost of “fitting in”

Migration to cities carries an implicit demand for assimilation, often summed up in the familiar phrase: “When in Rome, do as the Romans do.” Language becomes the first and most rigid test of belonging. For migrants and new residents, failing to meet this linguistic expectation results in what can be called an “invisible tax” — a quiet but persistent penalty imposed on those who speak differently.

This is not merely about communication. Language is tied to identity, legitimacy and acceptance. In cities that are, in reality, multilingual and culturally layered, the insistence on a dominant language reflects a deeper anxiety about who truly belongs. The result is a daily negotiation of dignity, where new residents are constantly reminded that their place in the city is conditional.

How linguistic exclusion becomes economic exclusion

This invisible tax quickly turns into a tangible economic burden. Job applications, housing contracts, healthcare access and government services are often mediated through monolingual systems. For those unfamiliar with the dominant language, every interaction becomes a bureaucratic obstacle course.

Unable to navigate formal systems, many migrants are pushed into the informal economy, where wages are lower, protections are weaker and exploitation is common. Ironically, cities depend heavily on this very labour — in construction, sanitation, care work and services — while denying these workers full access to the opportunities and protections urban life promises. Exclusion, in this sense, is not accidental; it is structurally produced.

The flawed assumption at the heart of urban planning

A fundamental weakness in modern urban planning is the assumption of a static, homogenous user. Infrastructure is typically designed for the “established” resident — someone who already understands the language, systems and norms of the city. New residents, despite being numerically significant, remain largely invisible in planning documents and policy frameworks.

Even the push for “smart cities” often reinforces this bias. Digital platforms, automated services and data-driven governance tend to privilege those who already possess the right documents, digital literacy and linguistic competence. Smart, in practice, becomes exclusive rather than inclusive.

When governance fails to reflect urban reality

This invisibility is amplified by governance structures that do not reflect the demographic diversity of the city. Local bodies and planning committees are frequently homogeneous in composition, even as the cities they govern grow more complex and cosmopolitan.

As a result, planning for schools, transport systems or public spaces often misses emerging needs. Recent migrants may require different service timings, multilingual interfaces, or alternative forms of access. When these realities are ignored, infrastructure may be technically sound but socially misaligned.

Rethinking cities as dynamic ecosystems

The cities of the future cannot be treated as fixed blueprints. They are living ecosystems, constantly reshaped by movement, aspiration and change. Designing for inclusion requires acknowledging that friction between the “known” and the “new” is inevitable — and manageable.

Small, targeted interventions can make a disproportionate difference. Cultural sensitisation training for public-facing staff, multilingual public communication, and flexible service delivery are not symbolic gestures; they improve efficiency, reduce conflict and uphold democratic rights. Inclusion, in this sense, is not charity but sound governance.

Why empathy is the real missing link

An inclusive urban future demands more than better roads, smarter grids or taller buildings. It requires empathy — the recognition that a city’s success is measured not only by economic output or technological sophistication, but by whether its residents feel secure, recognised and at home.

Cities must be imagined, designed and governed for all who inhabit them: those born there, those who arrived decades ago, and those who will arrive tomorrow. Only by centring lived experience and validated belonging can urban planning bridge the gap between design and reality — and transform cities into spaces that truly serve the people who make them.