Each woman carries a map of her city—of those locations she skirts at night, those streets upon which she crosses at a faster pace once she begins to hear footsteps, those exits for which she looks as she enters a room for the first time. This unseen, exhausting toil is interwoven into daily life. It’s the additional time spent mapping out safer paths, tension stored throughout our bodies as we walk alone, calculated decisions regarding where to position ourselves, how to run, who to trust.
This isn’t just emotional labour—it’s one with tangible consequences. It determines where and how we live, where and how we work, which opportunities we chase, and which freedoms we believe exist. And still, urban planning largely ignores it. The responsibility for being safe is put solely on individual women, as opposed to being systematically tackled. But what if we built cities that aspired to be free of this responsibility? How much would it cost to make environments where women wouldn’t need to be constantly on high alert?
Mental Load of Navigating Safety
Men navigate cities with ease that women do not. For a woman, a mere walk home entails a string of calculations:
Choice of route: Is this street well lit? Are there sufficient people around to be safe but not numerous to be intimidating?
Personal self-defence planning: Keys between fingers, cell phone at your disposal, emergency numbers ready.
Nighttime awareness: Staying away from headphones, paying attention to one's surroundings, observing passersby's body language.
Considerations for clothing: Will this clothing draw unwanted attention to myself? Am I going to need running shoes?
It's a never-ending hypervigilance, influencing women's decisions far beyond what most people realise. Some pay extra rent to live in safer neighbourhoods, quit jobs that involve nighttime commuting, or skip social events because driving home seems to be too risky. It's a hidden toll in time, money, and psychological well-being.
Designing cities that minimise the burden
Urban planning needs to recognise and respond to this hidden labour. Women need not be responsible for ensuring their own safety—our cities should be designed to promote it. Here's how:
Streets Planned for Safety
More lighting on the streets: Darkness is a major impediment to feeling safe. More consistent and improved lighting, especially at public transit points, alleyway entrances, and where people walk, is what cities require. Active frontages: Houses, restaurants, and shops lining streets provide natural surveillance, which deters prospective offenders and enhances a sense of security. Clear lines of vision: Less concealed corners, blind alleys, and enclosed corridors minimise possibilities for ambushing.
Transportation with a Sense of Security
Well-lit stops and stations: Additional lighting, improved signs, and open areas for visibility. Improved staffing and monitoring: Security guards and surveillance cameras will discourage harassment. Escape paths and flexible seats: Layouts to keep passengers feeling unconfined.
Parks and Public Spaces That Welcome Everyone
Design for visibility: Open layouts as opposed to densely enclosed environments.
Spaces for various users: Breaking out of historically male-dominated recreation grounds (such as football pitches and skateboard parks) to incorporate recreation and relaxation spaces where different users meet.
Inclusive urban design: Additional benches, public toilets, and well-managed paths promote safe and comfortable use of public space.
A City With a Sense of Accountability
Women alone should not be expected to bear the responsibility for safety. Safety should be shared through well-planned infrastructure, presence of people, and policies. Safety is achieved in cities that consider it as an integral part of city design, ensuring that people, both men and women, can freely roam without fear. Making cities where women do not have to be ever-vigilant is not just an issue of feminism—it's a basic urban design problem.
Image credit: main header image Running by PLOFIZ CC
