Claim 5 of the thesis says the future must be chosen. This page is me choosing — explicitly, revised in the open. The features of the future I am building towards — held explicitly, revised openly. Before a feature earns a number it must pass one test: it has to translate. I cross-reference every entry against four very different places — Bermuda, Stellenbosch, Boston, and Zurich. An island, a winelands town, an innovation city, a precision city. A feature that only works in one of them is a local preference, not a future. This is a living document: I will sharpen, add, and retire entries as the evidence comes in. The first city-scale expression is
Bermuda 2050.
01
Abundance is the default.
Wealth shows up as space, time, greenery, water, and ease — for everyone, not as gadgets for a few. A fountain you can drink from, a shaded bench in summer, an afternoon that is not scarce. Generosity is the visible proof that a system works, and it reads the same in a harbour town, a winelands village, a college city, or an alpine one.
02
Technology is recessed.
The most advanced places look the least technological. Machines serve quietly and defer to people; screens appear only when summoned, then vanish. Nobody walks looking down. The absence of visible technology is the most futuristic thing a place can offer.
03
Individuals are private. Institutions are transparent.
The great inversion: your data sits in your own vault, and systems ask before they use it — while every public body lives in glass, its spending and decisions on an open ledger. Scoreboards measure systems, never citizens. Nothing ranks a human being. This holds whether the institution is a parish council, a municipality, a university, or a canton.
04
Coordination is nearly free.
AI drives the cost of coordinating large groups of people toward zero. A hundred people can raise a house as a thousand loosely-standing tasks; the same mechanics let a town restore a river, a city retrain a workforce, a nation rebuild its grid. Society-scale goals become claimable missions.
05
Everyone can build.
Entrepreneurship is a common lever, not a rare profession. The builder class is visible in every neighbourhood — a garage workshop, a campus lab, a maker space, a boat shed — because the cost of trying has fallen far enough that trying is normal.
06
Everything is tended.
Nothing stands derelict, fenced, or abandoned. A seawall, a vineyard, a transit line, a trail — tended alike. Stewardship is the default relationship to what exists: things are versioned, maintained, and handed over rather than clung to or discarded.
07
Experiments are welcome, bounded, and published.
The default answer to a new idea is yes — where the blast radius is your own, with two strings attached: declare it, and share what you learn. The failure archive is a public asset. Quiet corner-cutting breaks the covenant; failing does not.
08
Trust stays human.
AI does the modelling; what cannot be automated is trust between named humans, and that remains a face-to-face craft. People gather because co-presence became nearly free and the commons became pleasant enough to prefer — on a veranda, in a beer garden, around a seminar table, at a guild hall. Together by choice, not mandate.
09
Safety is a dividend, not a watchtower.
Safety is produced by design and by everyone being housed, needed, and known — not by cameras, scores, or checkpoints. Danger is engineered out at the source; being known is the only surveillance, and it is mutual.
10
Cities are the unit of change.
A city is small enough to see whole and real enough to matter — an island of sixty thousand, a winelands town, an innovation city, a precision-run financial centre. Futurecast its outcomes, publish its scoreboard, break the delta into missions, seed ventures against them, hand it over. Then run it again somewhere else.