Fixing Gentrification: How To Avoid the Dilapidation Trap
On designing cities that adapt and thrive.
In January 2021, an American digital nomad named Kristen Gray posted a Bali thread that lit up the internet like a signal flare. The images she shared—villas bathed in tropical sunlight, overflowing fruit bowls, lush rice paddies stretching to the horizon—spoke of a life unburdened by winter or the grind of her home country. Her caption offered more than just a glimpse into her life; it dangled the promise of escape for anyone who dreamt of it—or, at least, if they paid for her e-book or consultation services.
To some, it was an invitation to freedom. To others, it was something uglier: entitlement in a borrowed paradise. Indonesian locals saw an outsider flaunting privilege in a pandemic-stricken economy where survival had become a daily battle. Within days, Gray’s story shifted from aspiration to cautionary tale, culminating in deportation on charges of visa misuse.
Gray’s story isn’t isolated; it’s a symptom of something larger. Cities around the globe—Lisbon, Medellín, Phuket—are facing the same collision of global mobility and urban challenges. When governments fail to manage growth, what begins as revitalisation often ends in resentment. Newcomers bring new wealth, but locals are left displaced, their communities hollowed out. Ironically, nomads are often fleeing the same forces of gentrification and displacement in their cities of origin.
The question isn’t how to stop progress—but how to ensure it doesn’t come at such a devastating cost. At its heart, gentrification begins where neglect has already set in. When cities fail to maintain and invest in their neighbourhoods, they create the conditions for displacement to flourish.
What neglect costs a neighbourhood
Cities don’t crumble overnight. Decay creeps in slowly. A sidewalk cracks, a streetlight goes out, a storefront shuts its doors for good. Neglect becomes a recurring cycle, and over time, buildings fall into disrepair and public spaces lose their sense of purpose. People leave and speculators emerge, often chasing profit over community.
Lisbon’s Alfama district offers a haunting example. For decades, its cobbled streets hummed with the sounds of fado music—melancholic songs that told the stories of Lisbon’s working-class neighbourhoods. But as tourism surged, Alfama became a casualty of its own charm. Long-time residents watched landlords sell buildings to short-term rental operators. The fado bars that once served neighbours became destinations for visitors snapping selfies instead. Alfama’s cultural soul eroded, replaced by a transient air of commercial convenience.
This transformation didn’t happen in a vacuum. Neglect—both in preserving affordable housing and protecting cultural assets—created the vacuum that gentrification would inevitably fill.
San Francisco tells a different version of the same story. Once the epicentre of innovation, parts of the city now highlight what happens when the future forgets the present. Tech wealth transformed neighbourhoods into hubs of luxury while widening divides. Public transport struggles under the weight of underfunding. Streets with gleaming coworking spaces sit blocks away from tent encampments of unhoused people.
In cities like these, dilapidation acts as the entry point for speculative profit, deepening inequality in its wake.
Gentrification isn’t new—it’s just louder now
Gentrification may feel like a modern phenomenon, but its roots stretch back centuries. Cities have always been shaped by the push and pull of people, resources, and opportunity. Industrialisation in the 19th century turned rural migrants into urban workers. Post-WWII suburbanisation redrew city boundaries and reshaped economies. Each wave of change left behind winners and losers.
Today, global mobility adds a new dimension to the story. Remote workers and digital nomads bring spending power into cities unprepared for their arrival. But they also come with expectations: faster internet, specialty coffee, and coworking spaces where the language of productivity feels universal. The result is often a clash of priorities. Locals watch their neighbourhoods shift under pressure from an influx of outsiders who see their home as a lifestyle upgrade.
Bridging locals and newcomers
Gentrification is often painted as a zero-sum game: newcomers win, locals lose. But this narrative misses both the nuances and potential. Cities thrive when everyone—residents, newcomers, and governments—works together to shape the future.
In the seafront town of Ponta do Sol, Madeira’s Digital Nomad Village shows how co-creation can strengthen a community. Local cafes flourish with steady streams of patrons. Artisans partner with digital entrepreneurs to bring their crafts to new markets. What could have been a clash of cultures becomes a meeting point for shared prosperity instead.
In the US, the Tulsa Remote programme demonstrates how cities can actively build connections. Incoming migrants receive cash grants, but the programme’s biggest strength lies in integration. New arrivals are paired with local mentors and plugged into community groups. A once-empty warehouse now serves as a hub where locals and newcomers collaborate on projects and exchange ideas.
Malaysia’s Think City initiative balances heritage preservation with progress. In Penang and Kuala Lumpur, historic shophouses are restored and subsidised, creating affordable spaces for local artisans and small businesses. These projects protect cultural landmarks while fuelling community, creativity and growth.
When cities invest in infrastructure, cultural preservation, and equitable policies, they close the gap that neglect leaves open for gentrification to take hold. Co-creation isn’t about consultation. It’s about shared ownership of a city’s evolution. When communities feel invested in the future of their neighbourhoods, change becomes less threatening and more transformative.
How to break the gentrification trap
Cities don’t need to reinvent the wheel. They can learn from each other, adapting proven solutions to local contexts, like in open-source software. The challenge is to prioritise action over inertia. In other words:
Maintain what matters. Consistent upkeep—whether it’s Lisbon’s tramlines or San Francisco’s public parks—prevents decay and preserves liveability.
Rethink housing regulations. Short-term rental caps and incentives for long-term leasing, like those in Amsterdam, can protect housing markets from being overtaken by tourists.
Create shared spaces. Hubs and community events can foster collaboration between locals and newcomers, as seen in Tulsa.
Preserve identity. Adaptive reuse projects like Malaysia’s Think City show how heritage buildings can anchor cultural identity while embracing economic opportunity.
Share what works. Treat urban policies like open-source code: collaborate with other cities to exchange ideas globally, accelerating progress without starting from scratch.
Can cities adapt without losing their soul?
Cities are more than their buildings and streets—they’re living stories, woven from the history they preserve, the communities they nurture, and the connections they foster. Each neighbourhood holds a unique narrative shaped by those who call it home. Gentrification doesn’t have to mean erasing these stories or displacing the people who carry them. When approached thoughtfully, it can become a process of transformation that respects history, uplifts communities, and creates shared equity.
Digital nomads offer a powerful metaphor for the stakes: mobility can either deepen inequality or drive progress. The difference lies in intention. Solving gentrification starts long before the newcomers arrive—with sustained care and investment to keep neighbourhoods intact, not just physically, but culturally and socially. When cities weave outsiders into their fabric through mentorship, collaboration, and shared purpose, they begin to unlock the potential of a globally-connected world.
🗣️ How do you think can cities welcome newcomers without losing their soul? Share your ideas and experiences in the comments.
🍽️ Curiosity Supper Club: Meet fellow Global Natives at intimate dinner parties around the world! Next month, we have dinners planned in Dublin and Amsterdam. No event near you? Host your own—at home or in a restaurant.
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Your article is already full of great suggestions.
Airbnb and digital nomads are such tiny factors, but so much blame is put on them. The issues of American imperialism homogenizing city centres and driving out local businesses and souls are so much deeper. Regulations that drive down renting prices or subsidies for local businesses that maintain the culture could be a solution, but sometimes, I think regulations are mere bandaids that won’t do anything to stop the cancer. Regulations won’t do much if our media promotes corporate takeover, homogenized food tastes, and a lack of real diversity. We need to stop being so addicted to the fabricated idea of comfort and convenience that American culture has spread across the globe.
Furthermore, the spread of hyper-individualism is embedded in stories we consume and even social-justice movements. We’re so focused on the self that no amount of regulations will fix the lack of community spirit. Luckily, as you point out, digital nomads don't have to add to the problem. We can mix a global mindset with local community building by collaborating with local businesses and refusing to consume our food, clothes, and information from big corporations.
İn Istanbul, as of Oct 2023, the government essentially banned giving foreigners residence permits if they're renting. İt's harsh but it does stop some of the predatory opportunism and entitled colonialist attitudes that many nomads do, imo often unwittingly, bring.