You have probably seen the photo at the top of the article — this is Kowloon Walled City, an area with extreme population density, absolute urban entropy crammed into 2.6 hectares for 35,000 to 50,000 residents. It was demolished in 1993, and modern Hong Kong construction technically has little in common with this jumble, but it helps understand the principles of building in this region.
How did this happen?
Originally, the Walled City was a Chinese military fort that, after Hong Kong was handed over to Britain, fell outside the jurisdiction of both sides. In the 20th century, refugees from China flooded in, organizing uncontrolled self-construction without regard for norms and infrastructure. It’s no joke to see a population increase of almost seven times in just a few decades. Here, families lived in tiny corners, factories operated, dentists treated patients, and street noodle shops thrived.
What happened after the demolition?
In 1993, authorities demolished the Walled City and relocated residents to new social housing. However, this human hive gave a unique impetus to urban and architectural policy. It became clear that chaos doesn’t work and that "European-style" construction is impossible. Thus, Hong Kong urbanism was born — ultra-dense, maximally functional vertical architecture built not despite but because of restrictions. Yes, this structure may look unappealing due to external communications and may even appear dirty in places, but take note of the transport that often appears in photos: like in Zurich, you won’t find a single dirty car here. Since the 1990s, Hong Kong has become a testing ground for a new architectural logic: land is scarce, and demand is colossal — so we build upwards, in blocks and towers. It’s important to note that all land here is state-owned (with leases up to 99 years), and there is virtually no private land.
Why is this an architectural wonder?
There are almost no cities in the world where the limitations of territory, high living standards, super-dense construction, and technological infrastructure are so intertwined. Hong Kong has become an example of a unique compromise: the city doesn’t strive for universal polish; instead, utility and durability are elevated to an absolute value from a well-known formula. Moreover, there is no chaos like in Mumbai or rigid segregation as in Latin American megacities. Instead, there is a city that functions as a single mechanism — and this distinguishes it from any counterpart.
Hong Kong demonstrates that architecture is not about flawless facade beauty but about solving problems at the city level: transport, housing, communication between people and the economy. The "wonder" here is not in the familiar idealistic broad Moscow picture but in how a functional, vibrant, multi-layered metropolis emerged on limited land with millions of residents. Considering the pace at which our skyscrapers are rising, Moscow has every chance of becoming a better version of cyberpunk.
PS Physically, only a park and a small model remain from the Walled City. Essentially, it represents the entire model of urban life in Hong Kong: a compromise between density, functionality, and economy. The Walled City is not an architectural horror but a reminder that with any growth, it’s important not to lose the human dimension.