The City's Blank Spaces: From Abu Dhabi to Biskra, Why Open Spaces Are Not Used

In the afternoon in Abu Dhabi, the sunlight bleaches the streets white. On the wide, tree-lined avenues, traffic flows endlessly, and the parks on both sides of the roads are lush with greenery—yet often the only sound is that of sprinklers. In Biskra, Algeria, on the square at the edge of the old city, people sit on stone steps, drinking tea and watching children chase pigeons. There is little that has been deliberately designed there, yet it is full of the atmosphere of being "used."

These two scenes are epitomes of two urban philosophies. A study published in Frontiers in Sustainable Cities brings these two seemingly unrelated cities into the same frame, attempting to answer a deceptively simple question: Why are some open spaces always crowded with people, while others—even when well designed—remain deserted?

The research team used space syntax analysis combined with on-site pedestrian flow observations to compare the accessibility and actual foot traffic of urban open spaces in Abu Dhabi and Biskra. Surprisingly, in Abu Dhabi, certain areas defined as "highly integrated" in the spatial structure did not become gathering places for pedestrians; in Biskra, many spaces that are difficult to reach remain vibrant because of people's daily habits.

This study does not attempt to deny the value of accessibility for livable cities. On the contrary, it reminds us that the logic of how urban spaces are used is far more complex than a map suggests.

Two cities, two "reasons for walking"

Abu Dhabi's urban fabric has been almost entirely surrendered to the car. Superblocks, wide lanes, and distances of several kilometers between destinations make walking an uncomfortable choice. Even in seasons with pleasant weather, residents tend to drive to the park, then sit on a bench to read or picnic. The accessibility of spaces is nearly perfect on satellite maps, but the real patterns of daily life have been replaced by the logic of the automobile.

Biskra, by contrast, retains another kind of DNA. In this historic oasis city, streets are narrow and buildings are dense. Many open spaces are not formal parks but "urban living rooms" naturally formed by the gaps between buildings. Here, walking is not merely a mode of transport—it is a way of life. People may not deliberately head to a particular "sight," but they pass through the square on their way home, stop at a tea stall on the corner, and chat with neighbors for a while.

Thus, when the researchers compared the two places, they saw not only differences in spatial configuration, but also two entirely different definitions of "the public" shaped by two urban cultures.

Variables beyond design

An important finding of this study is that there is a "disconnect" between spatial accessibility and actual use. In Abu Dhabi, even if a park is designed as a central node of the area, its users remain limited to nearby residents; in Biskra, some informal open spaces do not even have a clear entrance, yet are regarded by locals as the heart of the community.

Behind all this lies the combined effect of climate, culture, social habits, and spatial design.Behind this is the combined result of climate, culture, social habits, and spatial design. For Gulf cities, the scorching sun and humid heat make walking itself a challenge; while in the Mediterranean-Saharan convergence zone, shaded courtyards and alleys naturally encourage people to slow down. The study cites scholars' views, pointing out that urban form can both "allow" and "prevent" encounters and social interaction—a statement vividly confirmed in both places.

More practically significant is that the study does not merely compare the strengths and weaknesses of the two cities. Abu Dhabi's urban planners are beginning to re-examine car-oriented development models, while Biskra needs to consider how to improve its current infrastructure while maintaining the vitality of traditional communities. Both stand at their own crossroads.

Are livable cities designed, or lived into being?

For city residents accustomed to "livable city" rankings, this study offers a new perspective: a city's livability may not lie in how many green spaces it has, but in whether those green spaces are truly woven into the rhythm of life. A perfectly designed park, if people cannot reach it without relying on cars, is closer to a "landscape specimen" than a "public space."

Equally important, the users of urban space often know better than planners how to "create" space. The case of Biskra reminds us that sometimes the best design is humble: providing a bench, a patch of shade, a gap where one can step off the main road. And Abu Dhabi, in turn, tells us that even the grandest infrastructure needs to re-enter dialogue with the human scale.

Perhaps what we truly need to ask is not "how to get more people to use parks," but "what kind of space is worth making a deliberate trip for." The answer often lies in the corners that people already love yet planners overlook.