Why We Should Design Cities Like Disney: Zach DeBoer on Walkable, People-First Downtowns

DeBoer begins with a personal habit from the pandemic. Working from home, he left long 4K walkthrough videos of Disney parks running on a second monitor, which he describes as an open window onto another world.

He says he did not choose these places simply as an escape. As an artist, he saw the parks as clear examples of what happens when art, human experience and emotion are the priorities in designing a place. In the real world, he notes, those priorities are usually the first things cut from budgets, whereas at Disney they are considered essential. He adds that for many people Disney is literally the happiest place on Earth.

DeBoer argues that nothing influences our lives more than places. In his account, place affects our relationships, emotions and habits, and even how long we will live. Well-designed spaces that have a clear purpose and pay attention to human experience can, he says, promote wellbeing, encourage creativity and innovation, and build stronger, more resilient communities.

He acknowledges that there are wonderful places across the country, but says most of the US looks like the car-oriented streets shown in the videos he was watching. In his view, such places are not only unattractive but also harm physical, mental and economic health.

DeBoer describes early 20th-century US cities as places designed to be walked and lived in. Work, food and school were all a few steps away or a quick streetcar ride. Buildings and streets were smaller, and people lived closer to one another, which made relations with neighbors easier and tied residents directly to what was happening in their community. Main streets were shared by people, carriages, cyclists and vendors, and as cities expanded and diversified they developed their own identities and cultures that residents took pride in.

He notes that cities were built this way for thousands of years on every continent, until a single invention changed the picture at the start of the 20th century. From 1900 to 1915, the number of automobiles in the US rose from 8,000 to more than 2 million. At first cars shared the street, but high speeds and exhaust soon pushed vendors, cyclists and others back onto the sidewalks, and streets came to belong exclusively to cars. He calls this only the first change the automobile brought to the American landscape.

DeBoer says the post-World War II economic boom led to poor urban planning experiments whose effects are still felt. He lists three of them: a mass exodus from city centers to outlying neighborhoods, zoning laws that regulated building use and segregated people by race or income, and destructive government projects such as highway expansion and urban renewal. These projects demolished historic buildings and erased entire blocks, often only to create more parking.

In his summary, instead of designing places for people, the country was now designing them for vehicles. He says the trend continues today at an even larger scale. Although downtowns and historic neighborhoods have been revived over the past 30 years, he argues that a few well-made areas are not enough and that communities deserve more.

DeBoer says he wants to ask why cities cannot look more like the Disney places he watched, and why such places seem to exist only on vacation. He announces that he will share ideas, techniques and lessons from Disney parks that any community can use to build better places. He divides them into five categories: density, variety, walkability, theming and, of course, magic.

DeBoer compares Zandbroz and Walmart using value per square meter rather than total appearance. He argues that a downtown parcel generates about five times more value than a Walmart once all streets and public utilities needed to serve the property are counted.

He presents a map of total value per square meter, where green zones indicate areas where the city generates little money or even loses money. He concludes that the city center and denser zones are subsidizing the rest of the city.

DeBoer says the density ideas cannot be applied in the same way across an entire city, so it is best to start where they already work and where people already gather, usually somewhere downtown. The first step he proposes is to fill empty spaces such as vacant lots, empty storefronts and parking lots at various points downtown. Although they may seem harmless, he argues, vacancies do not attract pedestrians to walk through an area.

The best option, he says, would be mixed-use buildings on those sites. He acknowledges that building or renovating can be costly and that this is not always possible for some communities. For those facing financial limits, he suggests less expensive options that can still have a large impact, such as parks, community gardens, outdoor stages, food stalls and scheduled activities, which can turn empty spaces into lively ones.

DeBoer opens the variety section with a joke about variety being the spice of life, adding that places like the ones he is describing would be the flour. He says variety brings beauty, dynamism and attraction to the urban environment. Disney's Main Street is his main example: colorful buildings with unique styles and shops of every kind on busy streets. When used well, he says, variety creates enthusiasm and invites people to go further, turning curiosity into the impulse to turn the corner.

He offers several practical points. Mixed-use spaces are ideal for keeping a neighborhood alive 24 hours a day, seven days a week. He contrasts how downtown lots used to be designed by different architects over time with today's practice, in which a single developer builds whole blocks at once. This, he argues, excludes smaller developers and makes downtown look more like an office zone than the picturesque streets people love. Finally, he says using a range of colors and styles is essential. When streets are lined with identical buildings, people tend to avoid them or stay indoors, whereas varied facades make places more interesting.

DeBoer says Disney's Main Street looks more like a shopping mall than a traditional downtown street, although one would never notice that from outside. He emphasizes that Disney parks have spaces that are very easy to walk. Visitors can go from one place to another without getting into a car, without driving through traffic or searching for parking and repeating that process at each stop. Apart from the occasional parade float, children move freely and safely. For this reason he stresses the importance of making streets that can be walked with ease.

DeBoer presents a chart showing the probability of survival when a car strikes a pedestrian. As the speed of the vehicle increases, the probability of dying increases exponentially. He gives a concrete figure: if a loved one is hit by a car going 65 km per hour, that person has only about a 15% chance of surviving. He argues that if streets are redesigned and space is restricted for cars, safe driving will become natural.

DeBoer says the wider the lane, the faster the car goes. He argues that city traffic lanes should be no wider than 3 meters, and notes that Sioux Falls lanes are typically 3.35 meters, which he says encourages speeding. He cites studies showing that converting four-lane roads to three lanes improves traffic flow and reduces the likelihood of accidents, and says one study found that such a conversion cut accidents by 47%.

He also suggests that marking on-street parking can visually narrow streets and slow traffic. A few years earlier he had worked with Sioux Falls to mark parking on 18th Street between Minnesota Avenue and the Avera Hospital. The average speed there dropped from 53 to 45 kilometers per hour. He admits this does not sound like much, but says the chart reminds us that a small change can make the difference between life and death.

DeBoer recommends widening sidewalks and painting crosswalks at main intersections. These shorten the distance pedestrians must cross and give them greater visibility. He adds that narrower streets mean less snow to clear and fewer potholes to fill each spring. With narrower streets, he says, there will be room for trees, plants, bike lanes and even diagonal parking.

He then turns to the fun part of his talk, theming. He defines it as the art of creating a cohesive and immersive environment that enhances the visitor's experience. It is key to telling a place's story, creating atmosphere and giving it a unique identity. He notes that each area, attraction and restaurant in a Disney park has a detailed backstory, with imaginary tales conveyed through design, architecture, food and many other details that visitors may not even notice.

DeBoer says all these details combine to create places with their own identity. Preserving the history, buildings and culture that shape a community, he argues, is essential to creating unique spaces. One way to do this is to preserve current places. Houses, buildings, bridges, barns and even trees are the stage on which daily life unfolds, and over the years they acquire emotional value. When they are destroyed, people are also cut off from their community and their own past. He therefore urges prioritizing filling existing gaps before creating new ones.

He points to Disney's iconic buildings and structures that act as symbols of a place. Because of their size and eye-catching designs, they serve as landmarks that attract visitors. He recalls that Walt Disney, inspired by his dog that followed him everywhere whenever he ate a hot dog, described such buildings as sausages, or visual magnets. He says Sioux Falls has its own visual magnets, including the Old Courthouse Museum, the Cathedral and the Arch of Dreams, and a sausage of international fame, the statue of David. Rural towns, water towers, churches and grain silos can serve the same function, as in Faulkton, South Dakota, where a striking mural can be seen from miles away and the town has a grain elevator that other towns envy.

DeBoer says murals reflect the identity of a place very well. He paints murals in South Dakota cities, and his favorites are postcard-style pieces made with communities to show their history, places and people, such as the rodeo in Clear Lake and the zebra donuts in Centerville. He then turns to flags, which he says can reflect a city's history, culture and aspirations. A well-designed flag can awaken a sense of pride and belonging among its people, and he notes that few cities celebrate their flag as much as Sioux Falls does.

DeBoer says cities also have an ugly side. When elements such as lights, speakers or facades interfere with a place's atmosphere, Disney paints them a greenish color so the object blends into the environment and is not seen. Colors can also be used to hide things or to incorporate them into the setting, and such elements can even be transformed into works of art.

He shows designs of his own for covering streetlight poles in his neighborhood. From a distance they look like Sioux quartzite stone, but in fact they are children's drawings, old photographs of houses and images of neighborhood residents. He presents this as an example of how public art need not be limited to murals and statues.

DeBoer says Disney creates its atmosphere through the artists and shows that enliven its parks. Places with charm have streets full of energy. To add more life, he suggests adding outdoor seating or patios, hiring street musicians, or closing streets for special events such as neighborhood parties, parades or farmers markets.

He notes that Disney is not the only place with iconic characters loved for generations. Local mascots of sports teams and high schools, and popular television characters, also give a city identity, and like flags they can be sources of pride for a community.

DeBoer says Disney celebrates special dates in a big way, with decorations, special characters and limited-time food. In a community, he argues, simple gestures such as hanging lights or gathering before an important game send a clear message to visitors and neighbors that the city is alive and its people love it. He says Sioux Falls also stands out in this respect and jokes that when the holidays arrive, the city goes all out.

He then tells the story of Walt Disney. Before Disneyland existed, every Saturday Walt took his daughters around the city to spend family time, visiting the amusement park, the plaza and the carousel. While the girls were fascinated, Walt often ended up alone on a park bench, watching his daughters play alongside the other parents. He realized there should be a place where parents and children could have fun together. Over time that idea became Disneyland, a place where people of all ages could share unforgettable moments, imagination became reality and dreams came true.

DeBoer closes by challenging the audience to dream beyond what Walt Disney dreamed. He says these ideas need not be reserved for vacations. If places are created that are well thought out, purposeful and for people, he concludes, any community can be the happiest place on Earth. He thanks Sioux Falls, and the audience applauds.