One of the weirdest things about modern urbanism is that we build the opposite of what we like.

We adore Europe’s narrow streets, but build skyscraper-lined cities with six-lane roads and sterile shopping malls, that are impossible to walk.

Right now, I’m living in a suburb of Austin, Texas. I don’t have a car so I’m entirely dependent on delivery workers and my roommates (who have cars) if I want to go anywhere.

Tires, not feet, are the engines of practical reality which makes you feel powerless as a meager human.

American society is entirely oriented around the car.

I saw this when I registered to vote last week. To prove identity, the form asked for my driver’s license, not my passport. That’s not necessarily a problem, but it reveals how we serve cars instead of making them serve us.

I’m increasingly convinced that avoiding scale is a recipe for happiness.

Keep a small group of close friends, work with a small team of people, and avoid big companies (yes, there is nuance here).

Economically, the notion is absurd. Emotionally, it increasingly feels true.

Back to cities, I’ve always liked this cartoon about how much space we allocate for cars instead of people.

Technology should serve us, but sometimes, it feels like we forget that and start serving technology.

(h/t @JWellsCFO)

Bikes, not cars, are the best way to move through cities.

People get to enjoy the outdoors and are forced to interact which builds solidarity among strangers. Spend two days in Amsterdam — where commuting is a blast — and you’ll feel it right away.