New cities are not only digitizing: they learn.
But the question is no longer how much these cities know, but how much they transform.
In the midst of the silent hubbub of data, algorithms, and automated commands, what happens to our minds? What neurological price do we pay for living in cities that reason faster than we do?
“The city is a prosthesis of the mind”
By: Gabriel E. Levy B.
At the beginning of the twentieth century, the sociologist Georg Simmel wrote that the modern city altered the psychology of the citizen, making him more calculating, more cerebral, less emotional.
At that time, he was referring to the transition from the countryside to the asphalt. Today, the metamorphosis is much more profound: it is not only the physical environment that is transformed, but the cognitive structure of those who inhabit it.
From the first tests of urban automation to the recent integration of brain-machine interfaces, the relationship between technology, urban space, and the human mind became inseparable.
Environmental psychologist Susan Saegert already warned that the design of our cities conditions collective mental health.
At the same time, the Spanish philosopher Manuel Castells pointed out that “technology reorganizes not only the economy, but the very experience of time and space.”
In Latin America, although the development of smart cities is advancing at a slower pace than in Asia or Europe, the impact of digitalization is overwhelming.
Countries such as Chile, Mexico and Colombia have adopted intelligent surveillance, mobility and urban management systems, which, although they promise efficiency, also pose ethical and psychological dilemmas that are still little explored.
“The city observes us, measures us, trains us”
In a hyperconnected metropolis, the citizen is no longer just a user: he is a node, a data, an active agent of algorithmic feedback. Cameras, sensors, and virtual assistants create predictive environments, where every day-to-day decision, from which path to take to what to buy or how to sleep, is mediated by intelligent systems.
This redefines the perception of space and time.
It is no longer a question of inhabiting a physical place, but an invisible network of digital stimuli. The present is fragmented into notification-assisted microtasks.
Free time is absorbed by infinite scrolling. Attention, as Nicholas Carr warns in The Shallows, has become dispersed, fragmentary, hostage to immediacy.
In this new ecosystem, mental health is stressed.
According to data from the Pan American Health Organization, more than 30% of urban dwellers in Latin America experience symptoms of anxiety or stress related to the digital environment.
Constant exposure to information flows, the invisible noise of hyperconnectivity, and perpetual performance pressure erode the ability to focus, rest, and deep emotional connection.
In addition, brain neuroplasticity, the brain’s ability to reorganize itself based on stimuli, is conditioned by these environments.
Young people who grow up surrounded by smart screens and augmented realities develop different patterns of attention and processing than previous generations.
This is neither good nor bad in itself, but it does demand deep reflection on what kind of mind we are cultivating.
“Artificial intelligence doesn’t just assist, it shapes”
The rise of neurotechnology applied in urban contexts represents one of the most powerful, and also most disturbing, advances of the present.
Brain-machine interfaces (BCIs), such as those promoted by companies such as Neuralink or the University of Buenos Aires, already make it possible to monitor neural signals for medical, educational and urban mobility purposes.
In some pilot cities in Europe and Asia, these technologies are used to adapt public spaces according to the emotional state of users.
A park can change its lighting or ambient music if it detects high levels of stress. A classroom can adjust the instructional content in real time if the algorithm perceives inattention.
In Latin America, although these applications are still incipient, there are AI projects for early cognitive diagnosis in public health, such as the one developed by the University of Antioquia in Colombia.
But these applications open up pressing ethical questions: Who controls neural data? What happens if brain patterns are used to segment citizens according to their cognitive performance? Can the city, unintentionally, reproduce neurodisciplinary biases?
The Mexican philosopher Ana de Teresa warns that “artificial intelligence tends to replicate existing patterns of exclusion if it is not designed with principles of cognitive justice.”
And this concept is key: not all minds process the same, nor should they be forced to do so. Neurological diversity, including conditions such as autism, ADHD or dyslexia, must be part of the urban design of the future, not as an exception, but as a principle.
“Living in cities that think for us”
An emblematic case is that of Songdo, in South Korea: a city built from scratch to be completely intelligent.
There, citizens coexist with sensors on every corner, almost total automation of services and management based on big data. Although its efficiency is celebrated, several reports, such as that of the MIT Technology Review, warn about the levels of social isolation and anxiety presented by its inhabitants, especially the youngest.
In Latin America, the city of Medellín implemented its “Ruta N” system, a commitment to integrate digital innovation in public services, education and mobility.
Although it has made significant progress, some researchers, such as sociologist Julián Salazar, point out that “the speed of technology has exceeded the emotional and cultural preparation of the population.” This created gaps between those who fully access digital tools and those who are marginalized, even within the same neighborhood.
Another example is Mexico City, where the use of smart mobility applications has radically transformed the way urban space is navigated.
However, overexposure to digital interfaces also led to an increase in the perception of insecurity, according to a report by the National Institute of Public Health (2023), due to increased reliance on maps, notifications, and algorithmic predictions.
Even smaller cities, such as Montevideo or Valparaíso, are beginning to integrate AI technologies into urban design. But without a clear ethical vision, the smart city risks becoming emotionally inhospitable, cognitively draining, and socially fragmented.
In conclusion, artificial intelligence transforms cities, but it also reconfigures our minds. In its progress, we must not only think about efficiency and automation, but also about well-being, neurological diversity and emotional resilience. Designing smart cities requires, first of all, asking ourselves: what kind of humanity do we want to cultivate in them?
References
- Simmel, Georg. The Metropolis and Mental Life (1903).
- Castells, Manuel. The Information Age (1996).
- Saegert, Susan. “Environment and Children’s Mental Health: Residential Density and Low Income Children” (1982).
- Carr, Nicholas. The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains (2010).
- By Teresa, Ana. “Neuroethics and cognitive justice in times of artificial intelligence”, Ibero-American Journal of Philosophy (2022).
- Pan American Health Organization (PAHO), Report on Urban Mental Health in Latin America, 2023.
- National Institute of Public Health (INSP), Mexico. Report on citizen perception and urban digitalisation, 2023.
- MIT Technology Review, “Life inside a smart city: lessons from Songdo,” 2021.
