Has Covid killed off our cities?

Just two years ago, it was the geography of the future. Millions coveted its high offices, its glitzy stores; they queued at its most fashionable restaurants, jostled to make it past bouncers to bars. The virus stole its mojo.

The coronavirus has stolen our cities’ mojo

You’ve got to feel sorry for the city. Just two years ago, it was the geography of the future. Millions coveted its high offices, its glitzy stores; they queued at its most fashionable restaurants, jostled to make it past bouncers to bars. They would spend hours to get there every day, except for those who lived in it or near it and paid dearly for the pleasure.

The virus stole its mojo. Of all our spaces, it was toughest on the city. Crowded pavements, no way. Spontaneous dances in bars. Not on. Meetings with colleagues, commuting on crowded buses, hustling around the sales rack. None of it worked anymore. There wasn’t enough personal space in the city so we fled to our screens in the burbs. And now as we contemplate a return, it’s easy to forget what we liked about it.

Time to think is always a threat to the status quo and we’ve had 18 months to rethink the pleasures of the city. Sure, some are keen to get back to the 14th floor office that someone else has cleaned and order a sandwich that someone else has made and ignore texts from kids, who are a long way away. But do they feel the same way about the city that surrounds them?

From afar, the city pales. The word cloud that forms is a mesh of congestion, expensive, airconditioned, traffic-locked, hardened lights. Shopping. A lot. Dressing up. Being seen. Judging. Competing. For everything.

Memory can be cruel. We forget the buzz. The sense of being with the smartest, most fashionable, loudest, funniest and fastest in the country. We lose the idea that this is the place to make careers, money, contacts, make things happen and rake in the rewards. This is where the pace is fastest and the high fives highest.

Is it anymore? Not yet, maybe soon but not yet. More to the point, do we still value all that? Once we’ve stepped back into a more local, less extraneous life, it gets harder to appreciate what once was. Even to remember it.

We shrugged off so much of that city-ness. We’ve watched suits grow mould and bras disappear to the back of the drawer. Office work has receded yet work gets done. Promotions are granted, without the pandering. We’re back to work even if we’re not back at work.

The city that grew up around workers and, in the end, was defined by them needs to get to work too. It has coasted on the power of crowds for long enough; it has clipped the ticket on people who had no choice about passing through. Time to find its own identity, to dig into its own wardrobe and get dressed for the world. Be your own brand, city. Find your own place on the world destination boards.

Sydney could do with more sass. Always a bit like New York or San Francisco, it can polish up that sass and own it.

Canberra could be our Florence. Oh, you laugh but it has culture and golden hills and visiting Botticellis. Melbourne could be more Parisian and not just at the end of Collins St. Brisbane, embrace your inner Miami, white shoes, bare bums and all. Adelaide stalk Berlin, dark burlesque and serious. Hobart is a Portlandia. Or a Helsinki. Hard to know, easy to love. Perth, do you still live here?

Playing around with identity is all the rage. Do it. Play with it.

Our cities should become like the foreign cities we can no longer visit, if they are to become the cities we want to revisit.

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