What we gain and lose with the rise of sky gardens
Although green spaces are always a welcome addition to urban landscapes, vertical lawns can never replace real parks in the heart of cities.
In a world of rising skylines, shrinking public spaces and a growing demand for greening our cities, the “sky garden” has emerged as a transformative idea. These elevated pockets of foliage can offer a moment of calm above the hustle and bustle of the city, making urban life feel more generous and breathable. In private developments in particular, these gardens act as an aerial oasis: they help cool down the building, boost biodiversity and create a space for residents to wind down with a view. In Singapore, for instance, the decision to mandate vertical greenery in many districts is a big reason why the city-state feels liveable even at 35C. Milan’s Bosco Verticale shows how integrating plant life into residential buildings can help redefine a city’s commitment to sustainability. While in Seoul, it was through the development of a linear garden that a disused motorway was transformed – connecting neighbourhoods, increasing walkability and reducing the urban heat-island effect.
But what happens when we start blurring the line between public and private, and replace public parks with sky gardens? Current global planning demands mean that every new development is expected to deliver sustainability and biodiversity, leaning into the concept of community wellbeing and green intent. It’s fitting, then, that rooftop or high-rise forests come in as an easy solution – but despite everyone’s best attempts, it will be difficult for them to replicate the ecological and social functions of ground-level urban vegetation.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s much to be enjoyed about a sky garden. They are an elegant expression of vertical living and a welcome antidote to the concrete and steel of the city. In London, it was recently proposed that a new tower with such a space be erected on Fenchurch Street – meaning that, if the project is approved, Londoners will have four skyscraper gardens within the same city block. While there is merit in the concept, it’s important not to take these spaces as a tit-for-tat replacement of the real thing.
One of the most defining characteristics of parks is that they are free and open to all. A sky garden, in theory, employs that same concept – simply a few floors up. But once you add in the security requirements for each tower and the need to track visitor statistics, it usually means that you have to pre-book a free time slot. This often involves factoring in time to stand in a queue, along with bag-size restrictions that would make bringing a picnic impossible. Does that sound like a day out in a park?
The best way to describe it would be a controlled-park experience, where you’re merely dipping a toe in nature, provided you adhere to the rules that “allow” you to be there in the first place. A real garden offers unplanned time. It’s a place to aimlessly wander, to lie on the grass and drift off or to meet with friends, pop open a bottle of prosecco and catch up on life. It’s a place to arrive with nothing and leave sun-kissed. It shouldn’t require a wristband, a café receipt or a justification.
The topic of high-rise green spaces touches upon a broader trend in our cities, which is the loss of spontaneity. Perhaps we were always headed this way but the pandemic exacerbated our need to plan everything. Now we must always reserve a table before heading to a restaurant, museums ask for you to secure a visiting slot on their website and a garden only allows you in if you agree to its terms and conditions.
The news of a fourth potential sky garden in London is not, per se, a bad thing. But it should be seen for what it truly is: an enhancement to private development that the general public is allowed to visit, rather than a substitute for a civic space. They offer relief, not freedom. Real gardens are open, democratic and belong to everyone – regardless if you stumbled upon them or had a visit planned all along.
