Issues

Groupe d’études géopolitiques: The chic Parisian think tank championing Europe

Groupe d’études géopolitiques (GEG) is one of those French phrases that don’t translate well into English. The Parisian think tank, founded in 2017 by three students from École normale supérieure (ENS), the grandest of France’s grand école universities, is much more than the “geopolitical studies group” of its name. In fact, it might just be the world’s coolest think tank – admittedly not the most crowded of fields.

To be fair, GEG’s name is an accurate description of the think tank’s birth. Its three founders – Gilles Gressani, Mathéo Malik and Pierre Ramond – who were at various stages of their degrees at ENS, began to organise debates devoted to geopolitics at the university. In 2019, Ramona Bloj joined the gang, who launched a complementary journal, Le Grand Continent, devoted to European politics. At a time when right-wing think tanks seem to be in the ascendant, what distinguishes GEG is its avowedly internationalist, pro-European and pro-EU outlook.

As French politics veers ever rightwards and the European project seems in decline, think tanks such as GEG could offer hope for intellectual renewal. It publishes three semi-annual journals, each in its own natty colourway: a red one devoted to law, green to the environment and blue to European elections. Contributors have included Emmanuel Macron, Kaja Kallas and Josep Borrell. This year, GEG launched a series of books, La Bibliothèque de géopolitique, with Gallimard, a publishing house almost synonymous with Gallic intellectual chic.
geopolitique.eu

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How Nokia is reinventing itself for the era of 6G and AI

There was a time when Nokia was synonymous with mobile phones that could withstand just about anything. In its heyday, the company ranked above the likes of McDonald’s and Google as the world’s fifth-most valuable brand and it controlled more than 40 per cent of the global mobile-phone market. Then came smartphones. The qualities that had made Nokia so successful – sturdiness, dependability – were no longer seen as key selling points. In 2013 the company hung up its mobile-phone arm, selling it to Microsoft. Many assumed that the brand would simply disappear, swept aside by flashier, shinier alternatives.

But a look around the city of Oulu in northern Finland tells another story. The business is making a comeback. Last September, Nokia opened a 55,000 sq m campus in Oulu. The goal? To cement Nokia’s pivot to communication networks, researching, developing and manufacturing wireless 5G and 6G networks.

When Monocle visits, the factory floor hums with activity as autonomous robots shuttle components along the assembly line. Production specialists and engineers are working at full capacity, driven by demand from the artificial intelligence boom. “This is where we prepare for the next decade,” says Jarkko Pyykkönen, Nokia Oulu’s head. “The AI supercycle will be powered by 6G, connecting not just people but billions of intelligent machines.”

Most of Nokia’s main competitors are now Chinese. Its factory also c0-operates with the nearby Nato test centre on developing defence-grade 6G communications technology. The partnership underscores a strategic reality: the stability of Europe’s digital backbone increasingly depends on trusted network suppliers. Given Nokia’s expertise in secure radio technology – from tactical 5G “bubbles” for battlefield use to encrypted industrial networks – the company is at the heart of those conversations.

Results from 2025 were positive, with overall sales revenue at €19.9bn and year-on-year growth at 3 per cent. US chipmaker Nvidia, the world’s most valuable company, agreed a $1bn (€850m) equity investment in the Finnish firm late last year. Expectations for 2026 are high as Nokia holds thousands of 5G patents and is involved in shaping the protocols that will define future 6G networks.

Though Nokia’s days as a globally renowned phone brand are over, its next chapter could prove even more essential to the world by keeping connections secure and stable. It is, once again, a company to watch.

Why Casa Santa Luzia is São Paulo’s most beloved supermarket

We’ve all experienced the displeasure of navigating crowded aisles and wasting time trying to figure out the logic of ill-considered shop layouts – only to be forced to wait in long checkout lines. Good supermarkets can be hard to find. But they do exist: São Paulo’s Casa Santa Luzia, which celebrates its centenary this year, provides ample options and isn’t overlit. You’ll find it in the city’s chic Jardins district, where high-end shops and exclusive restaurants dot the elegant, treelined streets.

Locals pop in to buy a good bottle of wine, get their cold cuts sliced just right or pick up a rotisserie dinner. Stocked with more than 30,000 products including organic foods, Casa Santa Luzia is also beautifully designed. Colourful stained-glass windows add a playful touch of light above shoppers’ heads, while the modernist-style exterior offers an antidote to most supermarkets’ grey tones. Best of all, there’s a much-loved café on the second floor.

Over the years, Casa Santa Luzia’s family-led management team has repeatedly ruled out expansion, ensuring that its expertise isn’t stretched thin. Its third-generation director, Ana Maria Lopes, argues that this is the supermarket’s strength. “Our family is proud to manage what we now consider to be a true asset to São Paulo,” she says. “We’re committed to maintaining our position as a benchmark for the retail of food products.”

It’s no wonder that the shop has become indispensable to local residents. The menu, which features more than 1,000 homemade dishes, offers options for both lunch and dinner, such as beef stroganoff, Brazilian shrimp stew or a light selection of quiches. Doesn’t every city deserve to have its own Casa Santa Luzia?
santaluzia.com.br

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Dr Stretch: Japan’s secret weapon fighting stiff joints and office slouch

There was once a time when Masahiro Kurokawa had to explain to everyone what a stretching studio did. To many in Japan, it seemed rather odd that people would pay for something that was potentially painful and could be done for free at home while sitting in front of the television.

Kurokawa opened his first outpost of Dr Stretch in 2010 – a 40 sq m space with five beds in the Shinyurigaoka area of Kawasaki. Outside the world of professional sport, says Kurokawa, one-on-one stretching sessions with a trainer simply “didn’t exist in Japan”.

Today, Kurokawa’s Tokyo-based wellness company Nobitel runs a network of 240 Dr Stretch branches in Japan and 46 overseas – including in China, Singapore and the UAE. The company estimates that a million customers have had their limbs and joints tuned up by the brand’s trainers; there are currently about 70,000 active members. This spring, Dr Stretch will enter the European market with a space in Amsterdam. The brand then hopes to expand further west. “What I really want is to be in the US market,” he says.

The idea for Dr Stretch came to Kurokawa in the late 2000s when his 11 year old son, a talented footballer, was sidelined as a result of knee pain. The entrepreneur took his son to see several orthopaedic doctors and chiropractors; all simply prescribed prolonged rest. Then, by chance, Kurokawa met a professional sports trainer who told the boy to try a series of stretches. “My son’s pain went away and I immediately saw the potential for a broader audience,” says Kurokawa.

The experience became the basis for his business strategy: to demonstrate that Dr Stretch’s “core balance stretching” method could improve top athletes’ performance and offer a pared-down version to the general public. This approach allows the business to stand out in Japan’s ¥700bn (€3.8bn) fitness industry, while offering customers a new way to address physical ailments beyond popular options such as massage or acupuncture. It is the biggest name in a fast-growing sector of Japan’s fitness industry. The country has long had a wide array of treatment options for consumers’ everyday ailments: massage, osteopathic, acupuncture, chiropractic and orthopaedic rehab clinics. “Dr Stretch has increasingly established itself as an alternative to those types of services,” says Takenori Furuya, the editor in chief and publisher of Fitness Business, a Tokyo based bimonthly magazine.

Dr Stretch’s spaces are typically small and sparingly furnished, with between six to 15 beds. Trainers cater to clients from all walks of life, from J-pop musicians and primary school children to middle-aged office workers. “It can take three or four months before you see any noticeable improvements,” says Kurokawa. “With any health related business, it’s always the same: people have to feel the effect or they just won’t stick with it.”
doctorstretch.com

Meet four of Dubai’s elite property brokers, navigating its luxury market with strategy and style

Dubai’s property market has never lacked ambition but it has rarely looked like this. According to the Dubai Land Department, more than 40,000 licensed brokers now operate here. However, only a small fraction of them get close to the apex of the market, where single homes sell for the price of small European hotels and commissions are earned (or lost) on instinct alone. It’s a pure commission economy. There are no salaries or safety nets. Agents arrive from everywhere: Britons fleeing tired markets; Russians following capital; Arabs returning with regional clout; Europeans armed with pitch decks. Most don’t last. Those who do learn quickly that in Dubai, property is part performance, part intelligence.

For some, success is visual. They arrive sharp, glossy and conspicuously wealthy, mirroring the aspirations of their clients. Fast cars, heavy watches and an Instagram-ready life are not indulgences here – they’re tools. As one agent puts it, “If you’re selling to billionaires, you can’t look like you don’t belong in their world.” Others operate quietly. They talk less about marble finishes and more about noise corridors, flight paths and resale risk. They build businesses around discretion and repeat buyers. In a market saturated with sellers, sound advice has become a rare commodity.

The agents who survive at the top do so because they understand something fundamental: Dubai rewards conviction but punishes bluff. What matters most here isn’t where you came from or how good you look. The market only asks whether you can close a deal.

Ben Bandari

Company: Benco Real Estate
Years in business: 24
Biggest sale: AED500m (€115m)

Ben Bandari has seen Dubai at its most fragile and at its most inflated. He arrived in 2002, selling brochures and promises, long before the Palm Jumeirah had a shoreline worth photographing. Today he is widely considered to be the UAE’s most prolific broker, a status reinforced by his starring role in TV show Million Dollar Listing UAE and a contacts book that, he says, contains “at least 10 billionaires”.

Bandari understands visibility better than most. He is unapologetic about it. “If you’re not out there, you’re irrelevant,” he says. The cameras follow him, the Patek Philippe watch stays on his wrist and the deals often exceeding AED100m (€23m), continue to land. But longevity, he insists, matters more than glamour. “I stayed when others left,” he says of the 2008 crash. “That’s how reputations are built.”

The villa that he is selling on Billionaires’ Row on the Palm Jumeirah is valued at AED200m (€46m). It is a six-bedroom waterfront property with uninterrupted views, a rooftop area and a spacious basement; meanwhile, the artwork inside is worth the same as the house itself. Travertine marble, custom finishes and full water frontage make it one of the most expensive private homes currently on the market.

Bandari’s buyers are global and often already known to him. Sales are rarely public; they begin at private dinners or invitation-only events. “This isn’t about portals,” he says. “It’s about access.” In a market crowded with ambition, Bandari’s advantage is simple – he has been here longer than most and survived every cycle.

Dounia Fadi

Company: EXP Realty Dubai
Years in business: 20
Biggest sale: AED38m (€8.8m)

Dounia Fadi doesn’t sell noise. In Volante Tower, one of Downtown Dubai’s most discreet addresses, she moves with the ease of someone who has watched the city build itself from the ground up. Cartier on her wrist, Van Cleef at her neck, she speaks calmly, deliberately – more adviser than agent. “Luxury is an overused word in Dubai,” she says. “What matters is quality, serenity and trust.”

Fadi is one of the few brokers who have operated across every phase of Dubai’s modern property history, from the introduction of freehold laws to today’s hyper-regulated, data-driven market. She is also the only female mentor appointed by the Dubai Land Department, a role that she describes as “necessary but difficult” in an industry still dominated by men. “You need patience and consistency,” she says. “And you must think like an investor, not a salesperson.”

The property that she is selling here reflects that philosophy. The full-floor apartment in Volante, priced at AED60m (€13.8m), offers private lift access, generous proportions and hotel-grade services. Another listing in the same building, a penthouse valued at AED190m (€44m), pushes discretion even further. Residents have chefs, spas and security. “This is for people who don’t want to be seen,” says Fadi.

Her clients are global, high-net-worth and exacting. And they are less interested in brochures than in track records. Before she recommends anything, she asks herself, “Would I buy this myself?” It is a question that has helped to keep her relevant for two decades in a market that rarely forgives complacency.

Rami Wahood

Company: Fäm Properties
Years in business: 13
Biggest sale: AED61.5m (€14m)

Rami Wahood arrives in Al Wasl in a bright-blue Ferrari 812 Superfast, wearing loafers, a belt and a pocket square in matching shades. At 38, he looks every inch the modern Dubai broker: polished, relentless and hungry. “This is my life,” he says plainly. “I don’t have a balance.”

Born in Chicago to Syrian parents, Wahood started in Dubai at the bottom of the market, selling modest villas before climbing steadily into the eight-figure bracket. Today he is an executive partner at Fäm Properties. Exposure matters, he says, but consistency matters more. “You eat, sleep and breathe this,” he says. “That’s the job.”

The villa that he is selling in Al Wasl is priced at AED83m (€19m) and sits in one of the few freehold zones close to Downtown Dubai. With six bedrooms, Scandinavian-inspired architecture, Swedish wood cladding and views of the Burj Khalifa, it is deliberately restrained, a rarity in a city often accused of excess. “This is for people who understand taste,” says Wahood. “Minimalism is hard to do well.”

His buyers are often seasoned, internationally mobile and decisive. Wahood believes that presentation still matters. “You have to look the part,” he says. “Not for shallow reasons but because confidence is contagious.” In Dubai, ambition is not hidden. It arrives loudly and Wahood makes no apology for matching the tempo of the city.

Matt Siddell

Company: Independent
Years in business: More than 15
Biggest sale: Transactions exceeding AED250m (€58m)

Matt Siddell doesn’t look like a Dubai broker. Shirt unbuttoned and relaxed, he greets his clients on the 41st floor of a Dubai Harbour penthouse with spreadsheets rather than spectacle. “I don’t sell real estate,” he says. “I advise.”

Formerly based in London, Siddell arrived in Dubai with a network, not a brand. He avoided large agencies and built a business around retainers and risk analysis. “If your incentive is to close before someone else does, that’s a different agenda,” he says. “My clients are long term.”

The penthouse that he is showing is priced at AED24m (€5.5m). West-facing, with expansive terraces, it is positioned for appreciation rather than drama. Siddell talks about road completions, sight-lines and noise maps before he mentions views. “You make your money when you buy,” he says. “Not when you post it on Instagram.”

His clients, often family offices and institutional investors, value restraint. Helicopters are tools, not toys. “It’s easy to get carried away in Dubai,” he says. “Staying grounded is the real skill.” In a city that celebrates performance, Siddell’s success lies in refusing to perform at all.

Three new pieces of military kit outsmarting drones and supply chain bottlenecks

1.
A $14 solution for defeating high-altitude drone threats
Dragonfire laser weapon
UK

Dragonfire can detect and silently shoot down an approaching drone, aircraft or missile in seconds. A laser directed-energy weapon (LDEW) developed by a consortium of UK companies led by MBDA for the Royal Navy, it is due to come into service in 2027. LDEWs have been developed as a low-cost way to tackle unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs). When Iran sent drones to Israel in April 2024, they caused little material damage but the efforts to take them down cost an estimated $1bn (€846m).

Dragonfire, by contrast, costs $14 (€12) per shot and can hit a coin from 1km away using a laser beam strong enough to cut through metal. Successful live-firing tests have been completed and it will be installed on the Royal Navy’s Type 45 warships, regularly deployed in hot spots such as the eastern Mediterranean and Gulf.
mbda-systems.com

2.
The Hellfire-armed 100km/h buggy
Tempest Vehicles
Virginia, USA

If there’s anything that the world’s militaries have learnt from the war in Ukraine, it’s the importance of finding ways to eliminate UAVs. Combating these inexpensive but effective machines has become a priority across the globe.

To this end, the Ukrainian armed forces are being assisted by US-made Tempest all-terrain vehicles, based on commercial off-the-shelf (COTS) platforms, equipped with AGM-114 Hellfire missiles. Unveiled in 2025, the Tempest is produced by Virginia-based manufacturers V2X and is designed for rapid response, with a lightweight, buggy-style 434 chassis that allows them to travel at speeds of up to 100km/h. The Tempest is fitted with a twin Longbow launcher that features a radar system capable of locating short-and medium-range drones come rain or shine.

The radar-and laser-guided AGM-114 Hellfire missiles have proved highly effective in taking out UAVs. They have a range of about 8km and carry a 9kg warhead – enough to deal with a drone while reducing the risk of collateral damage. Perhaps the Tempest’s most impressive characteristic, however, is its mobility. Designed as a “shoot-and-scoot” vehicle, after launching its missiles, it can rapidly redeploy before the enemy can fire back, while its radar type makes it difficult to be detected.

3.
Homegrown Ukrainian surveillance tech
Oko Camera
Ukraine

The West faces a supply-chain problem: how can it build the cameras essential for drone surveillance without sourcing parts from China? Ukrainian start-up Oko Camera offers a solution. “All of the key components of our serial production, including the chips, are produced in Europe,” says Denys Nikolayenko, its CEO. This year, Oko Camera is set to widen its product line with high-demand products for unmanned systems. “We have good feedback from units using them on the front line,” says Nikolayenko.
oko.camera

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Why blocking immigrant entrepreneurs is an act of American economic self-harm

An entrepreneurship expert at the University of Oxford’s Said Business School, Neri Karra Sillaman is the author of ‘Pioneers: 8 Principles of Business Longevity from Immigrant Entrepreneurs’, published last year. In the book, she explores the positive impact that foreign-born entrepreneurs have had on global business. Here, she explains why the Trump administration’s visa ban on 75 countries – effective since January 2026 – will damage the US economy.

Immigrant success stories define the American Dream, so it’s disappointing that the US is now leading the backlash against one of the most beneficial economic trends of our time. That backlash has been evident throughout the presidencies of Donald Trump, himself the son of an immigrant who fled poverty. But it reached new heights on 14 January when the US State Department announced that it would pause visa processing from 75 countries that together constitute nearly 40 per cent of the planet’s population. The reason given for this decision was that nationals from these places “take welfare from the American people at unacceptable rates” – and that this would only end if the government can ensure that “new immigrants will not extract wealth” from the US.

The political opposition to immigration is very real. Yet it has come at a time of stagnant growth, when the evidence of the positive economic contributions made by the movement of people is getting stronger. Not only does research show that immigrants in the US claim less welfare per capita than native-born Americans but foreign-born entrepreneurs are also major contributors to wealth creation.

According to the latest statistics, though first- or second-generation immigrants only make up about 27 per cent of the US population, this group has founded more than 46 per cent of the companies on the Fortune 500 list. Those companies employ more than 15.4 million people worldwide and generated $8.6trn (€7.3trn) in revenue in 2024 – a figure higher than the GDP of any country bar the US and China.

Outside the Fortune 500 companies, 80 per cent of billion-dollar start-ups have an immigrant founder or senior leader. Meanwhile, companies founded by someone who moved to a country generally grow faster and last longer than those of non-immigrants. My latest book, Pioneers, attempts to find out what lies behind those statistics by asking why those who put down roots somewhere new tend to be so successful in business, and what lessons we can learn from that.

I explored the stories of some of the most prominent examples of modern times, including many who come from those countries named in January’s ban. Though I’m an immigrant businesswoman myself, what I discovered surprised me. These entrepreneurs achieve success by going against conventional wisdom and offer strategies from which everyone can learn.

For example, while MBA students are typically advised to look outwards to spot gaps in the market, immigrant entrepreneurs tend to look inwards to create businesses rooted in their identities or experiences. Take Jan Koum, a Ukrainian immigrant whose experience of surveillance in the USSR and annoyance at the high cost of calling home from the US led him to create a fully encrypted and free communication platform: Whatsapp.

Immigrant entrepreneurs are also often good at building networks that help them to achieve their goals. Consider Hamdi Ulukaya, a Kurd from Turkey who turned a disused factory in New York state into the multi-billion-dollar food company Chobani. Ulukaya achieved his success by recruiting from the local community, integrating refugees into his workforce and rewarding his staff by giving them a 10 per cent stake in the business.

As Ulukaya’s story suggests, immigrant entrepreneurs’ success can also be attributed to their tendency to place purpose above profit. In Pioneers, I tell the story of Luis von Ahn, the computer scientist whose dream of democratising education led him to create the world’s top learning app, Duolingo. Von Ahn was born and brought up in Guatemala, one of the 75 countries whose nationals can no longer obtain immigrant visas for the US. Had that ruling been in place in 2000, when Von Ahn moved there, the US and the world would likely have been deprived of his invention.

We’ll never know what companies the US will miss out on if the new ban on visa-processing persists, nor how much wealth it will extract from the American people. But if the country continues to repudiate immigration, which made it great, it will create many opportunities for other states. Governments that are brave enough to stand up to the backlash can position themselves to attract the sort of entrepreneurial talent that has been proven to drive world-changing innovation, large-scale job creation and long-term growth.

Why ancient wisdom is the ultimate shield against modern noise

Tom Hodgkinson is the founding editor of ‘The Idler’ magazine and the author of ‘How to Live Like a Stoic: A Handbook for Happiness’. Here, he explains how the ancient philosophical tradition inspired by Socrates could hold the key to a better life.

For all its undoubted attractions – excellent theatre, participative democracy, a free and easy attitude to sex – ancient Athens was a dangerous place to live in if you spoke out. Socrates found this out the hard way. After a lifetime of trying to convince Athenians to stop chasing money and status and to spend more time caring for their own souls, he was accused of corrupting the morals of the young and worshipping false gods. He was tried in front of a jury of 501, found guilty and sentenced to death by hemlock. The year was 399 BCE and Socrates was 70.

Around 300 BCE, a new philosophical school appeared. Called Stoicism, it was inspired by Socrates and the life that he had led. Its founder, Zeno, developed the notion that we should be indifferent to the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and remain impassive, calm and happy whatever goes on in the outside world – or whatever happens to us. Socrates, the Stoics pointed out, had walked cheerfully to his death. His friends offered to spring him out of jail and set him up with a comfortable life on a distant island but he chose to submit to his fate.

Being Stoic today is no easy task. You can’t help but encounter so many things designed to unsettle you. Foremost among these is the advertising-sales business known as social media. The way that the likes of X and Facebook work is a bit like newspapers but taken to a new level. Newspapers peddle bad news in their main sections, with the good news of the adverts in between. In a similar way, social media makes you anxious with depressing news, then ads promise ways to relieve that anxiety (invariably by spending money). As everyone surely knows by now, people click on negative stories. More money is generally made from posts about murder, strife and war than from happy ones. As a result, companies have an incentive to pump horrible stuff into the world.

You can do practical things to resist this anxiety culture. In my case, I threw away my smartphone 10 years ago. This cut off one stream of rubbish. Another trick is to take a day off from the news. Every now and then, I switch on BBC Radio 3 and float around in a blissful state of ignorance. One friend avoids all news. Another has taken things to an extreme: he lives on a smallholding in Ireland with no internet or phone.

But instead of trying to escape the noise, which is extremely difficult, the Stoics would advise you to improve your mental resilience so that you can live with it. Socrates and the Stoics didn’t believe that your personality was fixed. They reckoned that just as the body can be honed through training, you can condition your mind and your soul to become strong and beautiful too. The Stoics thought that you could use the power of your mind to be happy. You could start with small things. Say a beloved cup gets broken. Can you react with equanimity? Yes, you can. “It’s up to you,” as the Stoic Epictetus put it. You can choose how you respond. Can you remain indifferent if a driver shouts at you while you’re on your bicycle? Yes. Socrates used to annoy people so much that they kicked him in the street. He would just walk on. When asked how he could stay calm in the face of such attacks, he said, “Would I get angry if a donkey kicked me?”

Being indifferent like the Stoics doesn’t mean giving up. Socrates spoke out against tyrants all his life and philosophy is anti-tyrannical by nature. Tyrants don’t like philosophers because they think. Socrates believed that being philosophical was a great service to his fellow Athenians. And he did more for the state by avoiding conventional politics than by entering the fray. We can be both Stoic and fight the powers that be.

Inside Tengah, Singapore’s first purpose-built eco-friendly town reshaping public housing

When Farhani Hanafi-Shuy was hunting for a home with her partner in 2019, she knew that there was one public-housing development that she was willing to wait years for. Tengah in Singapore’s West Region was pitched by the city-state’s Housing & Development Board (HDB) as its first smart and sustainable town. On what was once a military training ground, 700 hectares of land would be turned into a walkable, eco-friendly neighbourhood with about 30,000 residential units. Unlike most of the older public-housing estates, Tengah would be enveloped in nature, flanked by a 5km forest corridor linking the Western Water Catchment area to the Central Catchment Nature Reserve.

The development’s proximity to lush, layered landscapes was a big draw for Hanafi-Shuy. “It’s rare to come across a neighbourhood with so much greenery these days ,” she says. “That’s why this project felt like a perfect find.” The prospect of living in the first HDB town to be developed entirely from scratch in about 20 years was also attractive to her.

The ambitious project draws from Singapore’s long history of creating public housing. In the 1960s the nation faced an acute overcrowding crisis; the state responded by selling heavily subsidised government-built homes – known as HDB flats – through a 99-year leasehold system. In 2001 it introduced the Build-to-Order (BTO) scheme, under which new high-rise estates are constructed in accordance to demand. Buyers typically wait three to four years for their flats to be ready but the units are priced below market rates. Today about 80 per cent of the population lives in HDB flats, attesting to the public-housing system’s success.

Ten years after Tengah’s announcement – and following delays related to the coronavirus pandemic – half of its homes have been completed, with a town centre, clinic and train stations still to come. Twelve months since she finally moved in, Hanafi-Shuy says that the long wait was worth it. “Unlike in my former estate, everything that I need is now only a short walk away and the paths aren’t disrupted by cars,” she says. “You’re guaranteed to see a garden along the way.”

Exploring Tengah on foot leaves a striking impression. Two “community farmways” – 40-metre-wide, 1.3km-long tapestries of pavilions, nature-themed playgrounds and fitness areas, all amid luxuriant flora – blur the line between a housing estate and a park. The playgrounds are positioned beside the fitness areas and outdoor seating to foster a sense of community and strengthen ties between different generations. These spaces show how HDB’s role has evolved: while building affordable homes remains a central goal, it now also focuses on placemaking grounded in compassionate design.

When Singapore-based multidisciplinary design firm DP Architects was tasked with shaping a 360-metre-long green spine within one farmway, it saw an opportunity to establish a focal point for the Plantation District (the first of Tengah’s five districts to be developed). “We drew inspiration from Singapore’s 1950s agricultural heritage by weaving pepper and nutmeg motifs into the estate,” says Guo Zi Ang, a senior associate director at DP Architects. At its heart is a diamond-shaped quadrangle featuring abstract pepper-leaf forms and an elevated platform that stretches outwards via sky bridges.

These walkways wind up towards pocket gardens dotted among the towers on the third storey. Though public spaces, commonly known as “void decks”, are usually found on the street level of HDB estates, DP Architects planted these leafy hideaways higher up to increase residents’ “sense of ownership” over them. “These raised ‘community living rooms’ offer more privacy, as non-residents are less likely to wander upstairs,” says Chai Yee Foo, the director of the practice.

Another unlikely social hub is a diamond-shaped courtyard on top of a multi-storey car park, nestled within four housing blocks. “We have adapted the traditional courtyard concept – commonly found in Chinese homes and prewar shophouses – for a larger urban scale, in the hope of encouraging neighbourly interaction,” says Foo. It is flanked by terraced gardens that turn rainwater run-off into cascading waterfalls after a downpour. Tengah’s green patches don’t just look pretty; they serve as natural sponges to filter storm water and reduce the risk of flooding. Given the rise of flash floods, such design decisions have become essential parts of Singapore’s urban infrastructure.

HDB has also carefully considered the home interiors. When architectural designer Linwang Zhang moved into Tengah, she immediately noticed the recessed, double-glazed windows in her residence. The development is near a military airbase so these help to dull the rumbling of overhead aircraft. “This might be the first time that I’ve seen a combination of casement and sliding windows in an HDB home,” says Zhang. “They reduce noise and keep out wind-driven rain without compromising on ventilation.”

Every home also comes with features such as a pneumatic waste-conveyance system that uses high-speed air suction to transport household waste and recyclables to a centralised facility, improving hygiene and reducing the manpower needed for rubbish collection. Meanwhile, a system of smart sockets gives residents a breakdown of their energy consumption through an app.

Tengah’s most ambitious new feature is the development’s centralised cooling system (CCS). Billed as an energy-efficient alternative to conventional air conditioning, it circulates cold water from shared rooftop chillers to individual flats.

Such cooling and heating systems have been in operation in several of Singapore’s public and commercial buildings (including at the Marina Bay Financial Centre) since 2006 but not in residences. There were initial teething issues – some of the first residents apparently experienced leaks and condensation – but the SP Group, the company overseeing the CCS, quickly made the necessary adjustments. “Everything has since stabilised,” says Yen Ching Tee, the managing director of SP Home Cooling.

Ultimately, the success of any new town is measured less by its systems than by its people. And for Hanafi-Shuy, her experience of Tengah’s community has been worlds apart from that of her previous neighbourhood. “I didn’t know my neighbours in my old area but the people here have been very welcoming,” says Hanafi-Shuy. “I started playing pickleball at an open-air court nearby and the retirees are always ready to help beginners pick up the sport.”

Zi Yang Wong, who moved into Tengah with his wife more than a year ago, feels the same way. He quickly found like-minded people through a badminton group. “If I had moved to an older estate, I don’t think that I would have found such a great community,” he says. The town’s groundbreaking design and infrastructure have fostered residents’ strong sense of place. At a time of property crises across much of the globe, Tengah is a testament to what great public housing can be.

From workshops to hotels, here’s how Vienna is transforming its hidden gems for a second life

Austrian glass-blower Robert Comploj is perhaps best known for his oddly shaped glass sculptures, which he has produced for clients such as marmalade brand Staud’s and energy-drink company Red Bull. But the tousled-haired Comploj also makes time for personal projects. Positioning himself in the space between art, design and craft, he has exhibited work at Vienna’s Hofburg palace and at Art Basel Miami. “There are many kinds of glass-blowing: the Venetian tradition, the Czech tradition,” he says. “I want to have my own style, my own way.”

Comploj opened his first studio in Linz, Austria’s third-largest city, before moving to a space in Vienna’s Neubau district. His practice, however, soon outgrew it. His search for an alternative led him some 3km away to the courtyard of a residential block beside a red-brick Lutheran church in the Währing area. There, he discovered a former car-repair workshop spread across two adjoining structures, with offices in a third. He bought them in 2018 and commissioned local architecture firm Berger 1 Parkkinen to convert them into a working studio and home, moving in five years later.

“This place was really run down and out of use for a long time,” says Tiina Parkkinen, the firm’s co-founder, as she walks through the old workshop, which is now Comploj’s atelier. Today the revamped space is flooded with natural light from large windows and skylights. At its centre is a huge furnace, capable of holding about 120kg of molten glass and running almost nonstop. “This is a unique project because of its use as a glass-blower’s studio,” says Parkkinen. “We were interested in representing that in the architecture, through the furnace and the bright space for the showroom.”

Comploj’s home is in the former offices, which have been expanded with an additional floor beneath the pitched roof. The entire space is finished in a muted, Scandinavian palette. “It feels very special to have this small oasis here, hidden from the street,” says Parkkinen. “When you come into the courtyard, there’s a wow effect.”

Such wow-inducing projects are rare in any city but exceedingly so in Vienna, where there are strict limits on new construction – particularly in its central districts – owing to the city’s high population density. As a result, buildings are commonly adapted and reused. In 2024, for example, 7,112 permits were issued for additions, extensions and conversions in existing structures.

How shops became hotel rooms

This predilection for reuse is nothing new in the Austrian capital and extends well beyond residential development. In the early 2010s, two groups of entrepreneurs independently decided to turn some of the city’s vacant ground-floor shops – tobacconists, tailors and so on – into hotel rooms. One was a team that included a hotelier, the CEO of a cultural-management agency and Markus Kaplan, a partner at design and architecture practice BWM. “That’s how these things begin,” Kaplan tells Monocle. “They don’t start if you only talk to architects. You need people from many disciplines.” They named their project Grätzlhotel (Grätzl is the Austrian-German word for “neighbourhood”).

At about the same time, a budding hospitality concept called Urbanauts was pursuing a similar idea. “They were actually a little faster in opening than us,” says Kaplan. Before long, the two groups decided to join forces. Today they offer 24 rooms spread across four districts, with clusters around two major marketplaces. One of these can be found at Meidlinger Markt in the 12th district – a working-class area that is undergoing gentrification. There are nine rooms here, all of which are in former commercial spaces, including a record shop, bakery and shoemaker.

Fabian Feldtmann joined the team in 2023 after studying tourism. “There are so many generic hotel brands these days but this approach really makes you feel connected to the city,” he says. Feldtmann points out Ignaz & Rosalia, a small café in the market that is one of Urbanauts’ “fellows” – co-operating businesses that serve as a kind of lobby for visitors. Another is Heu & Gabel restaurant, which is more upscale and dinner-oriented. “What was interesting was this idea of putting the focus on the neighbourhood,” says Feldtmann.

The radio being re-tuned into housing

While the Grätzlhotels and Comploj’s glassblowing studio quietly enrich the city, one conversion that is under way is anything but discreet: the Funkhaus, the former radio headquarters of Österreichischer Rundfunk (ORF), Austria’s public broadcaster. “Everyone in the country knows this building,” says BWM architect Kaplan, who is in charge of the project. “In the old days, you would send your letters to the radio station to this address.”

The conversion was commissioned by the site’s new owner, Hubert Rhomberg. Under current plans, the building will be transformed into a mixed residential and hospitality development. Its front section will become a hotel. The rear, a five-storey block, will be turned into flats, with an additional free-standing block to one side. Though it’s still early days, apartments have already gone on sale, with prices ranging from €530,000 for a one-bedroom unit to €2.2m for a 166 sq m duplex.

For now, most of the Funkhaus’s radio control rooms and offices are being used as artists’ studios, with some of that spirit set to carry over into the future – BWM’s plans include rehearsal spaces for musicians and public areas. In this way, the Funkhaus redevelopment perfectly reflects Vienna’s community-minded, reuse-focused approach. As Rhomberg says, “We want to lead the building into a new era as a lively, pulsating place that connects past, present and future.”