Salutogenic Cyberpunk.

From Grey Skies to Living Cities.

“Why did you build cities that poisoned us?”

Living Cities.

In the year 2077, as the neon glow of the megacities paints the skies, your child will turn to you, their eyes reflecting the artificial light, and pose a question that will pierce through everything you have: “Why did you build cities that poisoned us?” It will be a generation that realizes we prioritized ambition and efficiency over the health of its inhabitants. With AI having become fully submerged in day to day life, the value of health has skyrocketed, and has become a problem. A future where the air is a cocktail of industrial exhaust and synthetic aromas, where the rain carries the residue of countless pollutants, and the towering structures designed to uplift humanity have instead become conduits for its gradual decay. The question will echo through the chrome-plated canyons of buildings why we ignored all the warnings, and the undeniable truth that the foundations of vibrant metropolises were laid upon a toxic compromise.


The Futures We Imagine


For decades, our collective imagination of the future has been defined by the aesthetic of cyberpunk: towering skyscrapers that pierce polluted skies, a neon haze that masks the stars, and technology so pervasive it overwhelms the very essence of the human experience. 

Think of Ridley Scott's Blade Runner’s Los Angeles, a city undeniably dazzling in its technological marvels, yet simultaneously suffocating under the weight of its own decay. This vision, while artistically compelling, has cast a long shadow, shaping our anxieties and expectations about what lies ahead. 

There is a serious hint of dystopia in this vision, a future we are scared of, a future we see going wrong. Now many find comfort in this doom and gloom, but what if we could design a healthy future, not the hippie version, not the rainbow and unicorn version. This is not a passive aggressive sneer to Solarpunk, it is just the strong belief the truth lies somewhere in the middle. One where clearly capitalism has a place, and our current economic frameworks will be the driver to get there. This approach acknowledges the inherent drive for innovation and growth often associated with free markets, while also recognizing the need for responsible and sustainable practices to ensure a more equitable and flourishing urban environment. One where nature and mankind live in harmony. One where tech is omnipresent but not obnoxious. This however is a future we will need to steer, this will not come by itself, if we don't actively control tomorrow, next week will be chaos. 

The cyberpunk visions aren’t just confined to the realm of fiction.
They echo, with alarming precision, what’s already happening around us. The overwhelming chaos of urban sprawl, the crippling congestion that chokes our roadways, the very air we struggle to breathe, these are not distant futures we are merely speculating about. They are, in a very real and tangible sense, our present. The lines between the imagined dystopia and our lived reality have blurred, leaving many with a sense of fatalism, a feeling that we are just running towards a future we’ve already seen depicted in our darkest cinematic and literary nightmares. Maybe we are already there… from Black Mirror episodes (we binge watch) to projects from NEOM like The Line. This realization begs the question: if our present is already so closely mirroring these grim prophecies, how can or should we alter course to influence a different tomorrow?

The Broken Present, 2025 as a “Distant History”
Imagine a child, 50 years, a century from now, standing in a luminous apartment high above a futuristic city. Outside their window, the air is crystalline. Vertical forests climb into the sky. Rivers of light and water weave across sky bridges. The city feels alive.

Now imagine that child holding a book called “The Grim History of New York City, 2025.”

In it, it said: Our cities. Our time.

  • Congestion: Rome, Paris, Los Angeles, São Paulo, millions trapped in traffic, losing years of life to gridlock. Stress hormones rising, air thick with particulates. The WHO estimates 99% of the world’s population breathes unsafe air.

  • Pollution: The Amazon rainforest, once the “lungs of the Earth”, lost 6,000 km² in 2023 alone. It is reducing but still at an alarming rate. Cities like Delhi, Beijing, and Mexico City spend weeks each year under toxic smog domes.

  • Social Breakdown: In San Francisco, a city of innovation, over 8,000 people live on the streets. The opioid epidemic claims 80,000 lives a year in the U.S. alone. Neon lights, yes, but no healing.

  • Climate Stress: Flooded subways in New York. Heatwaves killing thousands across Europe. Wildfires choking Sydney and Los Angeles. Our “modern” urban design is not protecting us, it’s making us more fragile.

If you saw this in a history book now, you would call it the Dark Age of Cities.

Now we are already trying some things. Maybe some good, maybe some bad. We want to do things better, we want to live healthier, we want to build and design better societies and cities… This isn’t just utopian fantasy. We see glimpses already: Stefano Boeri’s Bosco Verticale in Milan, Singapore’s Gardens by the Bay, Masdar City’s renewable experiments in Abu Dhabi, The Line from Neom in Saudi Arabia. But they are exceptions, not the rule. And even here.. They are often more marketing oriented rather than “true” health/human oriented design. They use the core principle of good design, but the intent may not always be pure. Or is it? I’ve said this in many other places, my love hate relationship with Biophilia is based on the fact that “Putting a tree in a building doesn't make it healthy.” 

Learning from salutogenesis, A Scientific Alternative

The term salutogenesis was coined by Aaron Antonovsky in the 1970s. Instead of asking, “What causes disease?”, he asked: “What creates health?”
And it's that difference that gives wonder to look beyond sustainability and see it through a more net positive approach like regenerative design.

Regenerative design, describing the healthy relationship and interplay between “design” and humans. Here design can span from Objects - Ergonomics, Digital - Experiences, Cities - Societies, all the way to deep internal physical, physiological, psychological and mental wellbeing.

Salutogenesis is powerful but clinical. Maybe we should ask what avoids the negative, rather than supports the positive. Maybe we need a “natural” foundation in design which then by accident could be a salutogen, but that is not the goal. Antonovsky’s framing is important, but maybe it works as a bridge term rather than the core brand. Maybe we should call it: Living Urbanism, Third Generation City, or Biopunk.

Either way, applied to urbanism, it would involve things like:

  • Air and Light: Access to fresh air and natural light reduces stress, boosts immune systems, and lowers depression rates. Studies in environmental psychology show hospital patients recover faster when exposed to natural daylight and greenery.

  • Biourbanism over Biophilia: Edward O. Wilson’s Biophilia Hypothesis argues humans are wired to seek connection with nature. But maybe it's not about connecting with nature as we are nature. When we weave forests, gardens, and water into our built environments, we see reduced cortisol (stress) and improved cognitive function. Keep in mind true biophilia and biourbanism is different from the modern day version of biophilia which is often misinterpreted as pretending to mask bad design by putting greenery inside. Or Bosco Verticales to drive up real estate prices. 

  • Social Spaces: Environments that foster connection, plazas, parks, communal spaces, directly correlate with lower crime, stronger trust, and higher well-being. The famous “Blue Zones” (Okinawa, Sardinia) all emphasize social integration.

Cathedral like light. Safety by design.

Cyberpunk Reimagined, A Salutogenic City
What if we merged the energy and spectacle of cyberpunk with the science of salutogenesis? 

  • Vertical forests spiraling into neon towers: Not just decorative plantings, but meticulously engineered biodomes integrated into the very architecture of skyscrapers. These multi-story arboreal ecosystems would purify air, manage stormwater, provide natural cooling, and create verdant, accessible public spaces at every elevation. Imagine pedestrian sky-bridges traversing these living facades, allowing residents to stroll through urban forests high above the bustling streets. Nature will need a place somewhere, in the cracks, in the roofs, as infrastructure itself. 

  • Sky bridges carrying rivers of water and light: Beyond simple walkways, these elevated conduits could become central arteries of a city's lifeblood. They might incorporate closed-loop aquaponics systems, flowing with nutrient-rich water cultivating food for urban dwellers. Maybe this can facilitate the future of urban farming. Integrated fiber optics and dynamic lighting could mimic natural light cycles, fostering circadian rhythm health, or even create stunning, interactive light installations that respond to the city's energy. These "rivers" would not only connect districts but also serve as vital ecological corridors.

  • “Cathedrals of glass” refracting sunlight into healing communal atriums: Public spaces reimagined as sanctuaries of well-being. Vast, geometrically intricate glass structures would be designed to maximize natural light penetration, channeling it into grand, multi-level atriums. These spaces would be filled with lush biophilic design, offering opportunities for contemplation, social interaction, and restorative connection with nature. Imagine light-filtering technologies that mimic the soft glow of a forest canopy, and acoustic designs that dampen urban noise, creating pockets of serene calm.


A lens to a different world. One we could design.

Cities as ecosystems, where technology and nature are not at war, but in harmony: This is the core principle. Every technological advancement would be evaluated through a salutogenic lens: Does it enhance human health? Does it strengthen community bonds? Does it contribute to ecological balance? The city transforms into a living, breathing entity, incorporating self-sustaining micro-grids powered by renewable energy into every structure. Intelligent waste management systems convert refuse into resources, and pervasive sensor networks oversee environmental quality and individual well-being. Drones might pollinate vertical farms, AI manage complex urban biomes, and augmented reality overlays could highlight the invisible ecological processes happening around us. This is a future where the sleek efficiency of high-tech infrastructure seamlessly intertwines with the organic vitality of natural systems, creating a truly living city.

What if we merged the raw energy, dazzling spectacle, and intricate urban fabric of cyberpunk with the profound, life-affirming science of salutogenesis? Imagine a future where the relentless march of technological progress doesn't diminish human well-being but actively cultivates it, fostering health, resilience, and a sense of coherence amidst the digital sublime.

Right now, we’re still building cities that make us sick. We design environments for efficiency, profit, and spectacle, not for health, joy, or human flourishing.

One day, a child may look at our era and ask: “Why did they build cities that poisoned them?”



Flick through the following images, and wonder what will happen vs whats possible.




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Design Was Never About Design