A successful neighborhood, whether in city or suburb, is well mixed socially and economically and can accommodate all age groups. One of the greatest deficiencies in automobile-dominated suburbia is that there is little to do and no variety of surroundings available to the non-driver—usually the very old and the very young. As a result, these two groups are cut off from most sports, recreational and cultural activities, as well as from social contacts with their peers. In wealthy suburbs young people own and drive automobiles as soon as they reach the legal age limit, and a car is not an unusual 16th birthday gift.

Neighborhoods that comprise a city vary greatly in size and develop individual characteristics. But whatever their characteristics, the upper limit for the size of a neighborhood must be scaled to the perambulatory capacity of most individuals, and fast, efficient, and inexpensive public transportation is essential for traveling between the neighborhoods of the city and beyond. Although automobiles need not necessarily be excluded from neighborhoods, the neighborhood that optimizes the use of the automobile must sacrifice human values in the process.

No neighborhood should be expected to be complete in every detail, for auxiliary services are easily obtained through such devices as mail-order houses, crosstown bus service to shopping centers, and telephone delivery service. But a neighborhood, to be worthy of the name, should provide those services necessary for the day-to-day living of the inhabitants. Such neighborhoods were common in the cities of the 1920s and 1930s and remnants still remain in the ethnic areas such as Chinatown in San Francisco. In most city neighborhoods, the arrival of the supermarket signaled the demise of neighborhood stores, and before long the supermarket shifted to the shopping centers that developed on tracts of farmland, along with single family, 2-3 garage dwellings. Suburbia, as we know it today, had arrived.

In effect, when these shopping centers were established, retail businessmen passed the cost of final distribution of goods along to the consumer. Goods and services, once brought into the neighborhoods and readily accessible to the buyer, were shifted to supermarkets and shopping centers generally located at a distant point. The prices of goods and services are cheaper in these shopping centers, but the purchaser must now pay the cost of transportation for their final distribution. An automobile, once a weekend and vacation luxury for most Americans, became an essential transportation vehicle for people and goods.

It is conjectural whether the cost of owning and operating an automobile is compensated for by the reduced cost of goods and services at the shopping centers, and whether the automobile really promotes independence of movement through the city. This is not to argue against the centralized distribution of many goods and services but, in the final analysis, has society as a whole benefited when a simple act such as the purchase of a loaf of bread or a quart of milk is moved out of the neighborhood? Has society as a whole benefited when a meal in a restaurant or a visit to a movie is impossible without the use of individualized transportation?

In the walking city the activities of the individual would be placed in a matrix of goods and services that are conveniently located within walking distance. Such distribution of goods and services would lead to the development of a more recognizable, and therefore more satisfying, human community, one based on the needs of people rather than on the dictates of technology. Schools should be within walking distance of the students' homes, and the ratio of people to service areas, including parks and open spaces, should be adjusted so that urban service and recreational carrying capacity of the community is optimized.

The notion of decentralized services into the neighborhoods can easily be accomplished by the same firms that now run large enterprises such as supermarkets and department stores. As a matter of fact, the prototype already exists in the chains of small groceries, dairies, and specialty restaurants that dot many of our cities, towns, and highways. These existing examples of a central organization with small retail outlets, however, are primarily designed to serve the evening and Sunday trade, but little adjustment would be needed to adapt this concept to provide virtually any type of service to neighborhoods. All of the conveniences of centralized inventories, electronic bookkeeping, and centralized management are compatible with decentralized services to neighborhoods.

With electronic inventories and adequate supply networks, the neighborhood store or the neighborhood service as a consolidated management operation is quite feasible. Neighborhood employment opportunities would be increased, local entrepreneurs would be attracted to neighborhood enterprises, and large corporations and their customers would once again deal on a more personal basis through locally franchised operations. Such a system of locally franchised business should also open up the neighborhoods to competitive single owner businesses, providing for local entrepreneurial activity and opportunity.

As we have noted, our modern cities are plagued with crime. The comfort, well-being, and security of a well-regulated ecological community is denied to many people living in American cities. In part, this is due to the way in which cities are used, particularly the public areas of cities. With very large commuter populations, business and industrial areas of our modern cities are abandoned at night. Residential areas, with few lights, with few businesses, with few people on the streets become individual retreats, and the interaction of the inhabitants with the city is, at best, strained.

The reorganization of cities to the scale-size of humans would enable the residents to walk between destinations, to shop in the neighborhood for most of their needs, and would encourage the use of the streets by the people.

In a well-constructed walking city there must be clear delineation between the private and public areas. The private areas must remain sacrosanct and unobserved by any but the residents of each domain. Public areas, on the other hand, are everybody's business. Antisocial behavior is less likely to occur when the culprit knows that he is being observed. Shoppers, strollers, and park-bench loungers can be as great a deterrent to crime as the policeman on the beat, providing that they are abroad in sufficient numbers. In the public areas of buildings these observers can be augmented by modern technology. Potential criminals seeking a victim to rob or molest probably would be deterred if every resident of an apartment house could observe the halls and elevators through closed-circuit television. Moreover, residents of the building would have a greater sense of security, both in their own premises and in entering and leaving the building, if they knew that their friends and neighbors could observe the activities in the public areas of the building.

There is nothing of 1984 in this concept. People have always enjoyed watching each other. Not long ago, almost every block in a city community had at least one person, perhaps elderly or invalided, who spent long hours observing the neighborhood from a window at the front of the house. Whether or not the residents were aware of it, these individuals policed the neighborhood and could summon help in the event of suspicious activity. The television camera in the bank sees ho more than any person in the bank can see—though the television camera generally records what it sees more accurately—and the curved mirror in the store enables anyone, including the management, to observe the activities of the persons in the store. These various devices are as effective as people on the streets, but they are not an invasion of privacy because only public areas are being watched. Furthermore, the electronic observation of public places is not conducted in secrecy, for to do so would destroy much of its effectiveness which lies in the fact that its presence is known to everybody who uses the premises.