The Last Word: Urban intelligence gives us the capacity to redesign daily life before a changing, warming climate makes cities unliveable.
On July 23, weather stations across Alicante province, where I had a chance to spend a couple of months this spring, recorded dew points close to 30°C. The town of Crevillent reached 29.8°C and Callosa d’en Sarrià, 29.6°C. Singapore’s July average typically sits around 24–25°C. For a Mediterranean region, the comparison is startling.
Dew point is not a statistic for small talk. It indicates how much moisture the air holds and, at such levels, how difficult it becomes for perspiration to cool the body. On an afternoon like that, urban intelligence feels less like a digital dashboard and more like finding a shaded pavement, a cool bus or somewhere safe to sit.
Alicante had already activated its red heat alert. Forecasts suggested a temperature of 34°C but a ‘feels like’ reading of 42°C. Parks, the castle and outdoor terraces were closed, while emergency provision was opened for people without shelter. At street level, the questions were decidedly analogue. Can an older person walk safely? Is the bus cool and reliable? Where can a child sit? How far away is the nearest patch of shade?
The timing was almost too neat. Days earlier, a Red.es assessment had described Alicante as one of Spain’s most advanced intelligent cities, citing its progress in sustainability, mobility, governance, economic development and citizen participation. That deserves recognition. It also reveals the real test of a smart city: not whether it has modern systems, but whether it can reinvent itself as the conditions in which people live begin to change.
Where smart cities go wrong
Cities often talk about reinvention as if it were a branding exercise. A former industrial district becomes an innovation quarter. A neglected waterfront acquires restaurants and apartments. A digital platform is launched and the city declares itself future-ready. But reinvention is not cosmetic. Nor is it a single project with an opening ceremony and a plaque. It is the continuous work of reconsidering what a place is for, whom it serves and what must change for it to remain viable.
That is where the smart-city conversation has gone wrong. It has too often started with the kit: sensors, cameras, apps, predictive systems, digital twins and now artificial intelligence. These tools can improve services and help leaders understand complex systems. But a city is not a computer with restaurants and a beach. Technology is useful only when it serves a clear civic proposition.
Boston Consulting Group’s inaugural Intelligent Cities Index reinforces the point. London ranks first among 61 cities, but the more interesting finding is that technology works only as part of a wider civic system. Governance, funding, talent, collaboration and public participation all matter. No city leads in every dimension. The lesson is not that mayors need more AI. It is that they need a clearer answer to a more basic question: what is the technology for?
Alicante offers a useful, if imperfect, example. Water is not an abstract policy concern in a Mediterranean city; it is part of its social and economic future. Its Water Intelligence Centre combines operations, research and open innovation, while the municipal water company has invested in monitoring, resilient infrastructure, rainwater capture and reuse. Here, technology supports reinvention by helping the city adapt to scarcity rather than simply manage yesterday’s system more efficiently.
Permanent civic capability
Yet reinvention must reach the pavement. If hotter summers become normal, the city will need to rethink streets, transport, working hours, public space, building design and the balance between tourism and resident life. A canopy may look less impressive than a control centre, but it can be just as strategic. Future readiness is often built from ordinary interventions made before they become emergency measures.
London provides a different version of the same lesson. Canary Wharf was built predominantly as a financial district. When working patterns changed, it had to reconsider its purpose. Wood Wharf adds homes, parks, shops, healthcare and a school to an area once dominated by offices. The reinvention remains incomplete, but its direction is telling: relevance comes from creating more reasons for people to live, stay and belong, not simply from making yesterday’s proposition operate more efficiently.
This work does not belong to city hall alone. Developers must think beyond buildings to neighbourhoods. Technology firms must solve civic problems rather than search for showcases. Investors must recognise that liveability underpins long-term value. Residents must help decide what progress should feel like.
A city is not intelligent because it knows more about its people. It is intelligent because it can use that knowledge to reinvent the conditions in which they live. The future-ready city does not wait for heat, water scarcity or changing work patterns to expose the limits of its old model. It notices early, redesigns proactively and turns adaptation into a permanent civic capability.
Photo: Dreamstime.