How can we build healthier cities for the future?

“I found it incredibly inspiring to receive so many perspectives from such a wide range of disciplines on the very first day. It was also a fantastic opportunity to build new connections,” Poul recalls.

At times, this led to unexpected conversations with participants from entirely different fields, such as an anthropologist or a theologian, who explained the historical social role of churches in urban communities. “This was where newcomers to a city were welcomed, where they found guidance and support,” he says. While the state has sought to take over some of these community-building functions, he feels that something may have been lost in the process. “There seems to be something missing,” reflects the aspiring psychologist, adding that it is a question he intends to explore further.

During the field research, he was particularly struck by the social diversity around Leopoldplatz, an area often labelled a “troubled neighbourhood.” “The buildings, the people on the streets, every few hundred metres it felt as though you were entering a completely different world,” he says. Having lived in Amsterdam, where affluent and disadvantaged communities tend to occupy separate districts, he was not familiar with this degree of social mixing.

At the same time, he observed that the more heterogeneous a neighbourhood becomes, the more distinct social groups can emerge, each developing its own dynamics and often remaining largely separate from one another. “That became very clear to me in the interviews we conducted with residents and a community worker,” he explains. Finding ways to bridge these divides and communicate more effectively with different groups remains a major challenge, one that became especially evident during the COVID-19 pandemic.

One experience that left a particular impression on Poul was exploring the urban environment through the lens of anthropology. “We tend to say that noise is bad and green spaces are good. But these factors are not inherently positive or negative. What matters is how they affect people,” he explains, describing a perspective he had only recently begun to apply.
In his view, social density becomes a problem only when people lack opportunities to retreat and recharge. Otherwise, it can be a valuable asset. The same applies to noise: it becomes harmful when it restricts people’s lives or drives them away.

Overall, Poul found the combination of disciplinary diversity among participants and the blend of expert input and hands-on research particularly effective. “It’s a format I’d like to adopt for my own projects,” he says. “I’m currently planning a kind of think tank for young people focused on education policy, and I’ll definitely be taking inspiration from what I learned here.” 

A presentation by physician Sylvia Hartmann of the Climate Alliance Germany confirmed to Jana on the very first day that she was on the right track. Hartmann presented a study showing that the healthcare sector is responsible for five per cent of global CO₂ emissions, more than aviation and shipping combined. “That was something I really had to process,” Jana says. At the same time, she sees a positive implication: “If we can help people stay healthier, we’re also contributing to climate protection.”

Beyond that, the Summer School gave her valuable insights into how different disciplines can work together to promote health. “It was here in Berlin that I truly began to understand the contribution social and environmental sciences, architecture and urban planning can make to creating healthier cities.”

Jana was particularly impressed by the neighbourhood fieldwork along the Nordufer in Berlin’s Wedding district, a multicultural area that proved far more welcoming than its reputation as a “troubled neighbourhood” might suggest. Initially, her group had planned to focus on public seating. But once on site, Jana experienced firsthand how research questions developed at a desk do not always align with realities on the ground.
“There were plenty of benches. That simply wasn’t an issue for residents,” she recalls. Instead, other concerns emerged: litter, vandalism, and neglect of public spaces.

In conversations with local residents, Jana encountered both frustration and resilience. Some expressed scepticism, feeling that “nothing ever changes anyway,” while others conveyed a strong sense of initiative and optimism. “It’s remarkable how many nuanced insights you gain from open-ended interviews like these,” she explains.

One conversation in particular has stayed with her. When Jana asked an older migrant woman about her concerns, the woman replied: “Why don’t you ask the Germans?” For Jana, this was the most formative moment of the experience. “What struck me was the realisation that there are people who do not speak up, who are not heard, and who remain invisible,” she says.
Rather than leaving with immediate answers, Jana came away with something else: “I don’t have spontaneous solutions, but I do have many new questions that I want to explore further.”

A lecture by Christiane Falge, Professor at the Hochschule für Gesundheit in Bochum, particularly resonated with David. The anthropologist works in a district of the Ruhr metropolis shaped by migration and poverty, where she seeks to identify residents’ actual needs while also exploring the resources that the community itself can draw on to address local challenges.

“This qualitative research approach, based on in-depth interviews and accompanying families over time, was completely new to me,” says David, whose studies have so far focused primarily on quantitative methods. “In medicine, we tend to classify, generalise and develop broad recommendations.” As a result, the individual and their personal circumstances can sometimes receive too little attention. “I think that’s something some patients miss,” he reflects. “Illness is a complex experience. A patient’s environment, social life, socioeconomic status and mental wellbeing all matter. Doctors need to take these factors into account.”

During a two-day field research project in Berlin’s Wedding district, David had the opportunity to put into practice the approach he had learned about in Christiane Falge’s lecture. Conversations with local residents made one thing clear to him: “There are many small groups in our cities whose needs and concerns often go unheard. We need to reach them, otherwise they risk being left behind.” At the same time, he also recognised the limitations of the method. “This kind of intensive research cannot be carried out in every neighbourhood. Unfortunately, the resources simply aren’t available everywhere.”

The exchange with other Summer School participants also reinforced his awareness of how broad the range of professions and disciplines connected to health really is, and how valuable different perspectives can be. “As a medical student, I’m usually surrounded by fellow students and physicians. Here, many participants came from public health and nursing backgrounds. They bring important knowledge and expertise that we often don’t encounter in medicine. It showed me once again that these challenges have to be addressed through interprofessional collaboration.”

The clash of academic cultures was inevitable, and Pauline experienced it most clearly during the neighbourhood fieldwork alongside students from medicine, public health, and nursing. While ethnographic methods such as participant observation and open-ended interviews are an integral part of her daily work, she found that some of the other participants struggled with the value of qualitative research.

“The lack of representativeness and statistical data made some people uneasy,” she recalls. Yet by the end of the project, the group had reached a shared conclusion: engaging with people directly and discussing their needs on an equal footing was a highly productive approach. “A quantitative survey simply cannot capture all the dimensions of such a complex issue.”

At the same time, Pauline came to recognise the limitations of her own discipline. “Quantitative comparisons and methods are largely absent from our field,” she admits. The experience made her realise that combining qualitative and quantitative approaches is essential for addressing questions of health and inclusion effectively.

During a walk through the streets of Wedding, Pauline says she became even more aware that many approaches to improving urban health tend to reach people who already possess a certain level of health literacy. What is needed, she argues, is a stronger focus on those who would benefit most from such initiatives. “That requires persistence, patience and a very local approach,” she says, reflecting on her experience. “There’s little value in developing universal models and simply implementing them in different contexts. Instead, you have to understand the needs of people on the ground and respond to them accordingly.”

Over the course of the four-day programme, Pauline also gained a clearer sense of her professional aspirations. A presentation by the Bochum-based anthropologist Christiane Falge inspired her to pursue applied research, empower communities and co-create knowledge with the people concerned. “Top-down approaches don’t work,” she concludes. “What matters is bringing people’s needs and expectations from the grassroots level into the policy-making process.”