I've only been to Berlin once. It was for a long weekend in 2007; one where my friend Alex Feldman and I grossly underestimated the required travel and ended up not sleeping very much. But it was awesome. I loved the city. So much in fact that the two of us ended up enrolling in a basic German class once we got back to Philadelphia. I, of course, remember almost nothing from this class, but I can say apfelstrudel with a surprising degree of convincingness, provided there are no follow-up questions.

One of the ingredients that, I think, made Berlin what it is today is that, at one point, it had a lot of empty buildings. As many of you know, these under-utilized assets ended up becoming a breeding ground for creativity and, more specifically, techno music. It's a perfect example of Jane Jacobs' mantra that new ideas required old buildings. This overall creative energy is also what gave Berlin the slogan, "poor but sexy." What the city lacked in wealth, it made up for in spades with coolness and creativity.

But that was then. Eventually the buildings filled up, the city got richer, the secret got out, and things started getting more expensive. In the span of a decade, Berlin saw its average apartment rents double. Which is why in 2020, the city approved a five-year rent freeze for the 1.5 million or so flats that were constructed before 2014. Eventually this freeze was deemed unconstitutional, but it didn't change the fact that the city was clearly becoming less poor and -- arguably -- less sexy.

Or maybe not. Guy Chazan -- who is FT's departing correspondent in Berlin, just wrote this in a recent opinion piece:

Despite everything it is still, in the words of one Irish friend of mine who has lived here for more than two decades, the world’s “largest collection of black sheep”. It is a sanctuary for renegades and misfits of all persuasions, who benignly coexist with their more bourgeois Bürger neighbours. Despite the rising cost of living here, it still seems to be full of creative people doing God knows what but always looking like they’re having the time of their lives.

And as anyone navigating its countless construction sites knows, it’s also a place of sheer, unbounded potentiality. As the art critic Karl Scheffler famously wrote in 1910: it is a city that is “damned to keep becoming, and never to be”. When I finally board the plane out of here after nearly a decade in this city, it will be that “becoming-ness” I’ll miss most.

This to me is an incredible compliment for a city that I barely know, but that he presumably knows quite well. What makes cities truly great is that they're constantly in a state of becoming. In fact, it's exactly how I would describe Toronto. To be, means you've arrived somewhere. It also implies a certain stasis. And that's not what you want when you're a city. You want a constant flow of news ideas and new energy changing things. It makes me happy to know that Berlin, seemingly, hasn't lost this.

Cover photo by Stephan Widua on Unsplash

I've only been to Berlin once. It was for a long weekend in 2007; one where my friend Alex Feldman and I grossly underestimated the required travel and ended up not sleeping very much. But it was awesome. I loved the city. So much in fact that the two of us ended up enrolling in a basic German class once we got back to Philadelphia. I, of course, remember almost nothing from this class, but I can say apfelstrudel with a surprising degree of convincingness, provided there are no follow-up questions.

One of the ingredients that, I think, made Berlin what it is today is that, at one point, it had a lot of empty buildings. As many of you know, these under-utilized assets ended up becoming a breeding ground for creativity and, more specifically, techno music. It's a perfect example of Jane Jacobs' mantra that new ideas required old buildings. This overall creative energy is also what gave Berlin the slogan, "poor but sexy." What the city lacked in wealth, it made up for in spades with coolness and creativity.

But that was then. Eventually the buildings filled up, the city got richer, the secret got out, and things started getting more expensive. In the span of a decade, Berlin saw its average apartment rents double. Which is why in 2020, the city approved a five-year rent freeze for the 1.5 million or so flats that were constructed before 2014. Eventually this freeze was deemed unconstitutional, but it didn't change the fact that the city was clearly becoming less poor and -- arguably -- less sexy.

Or maybe not. Guy Chazan -- who is FT's departing correspondent in Berlin, just wrote this in a recent opinion piece:

Despite everything it is still, in the words of one Irish friend of mine who has lived here for more than two decades, the world’s “largest collection of black sheep”. It is a sanctuary for renegades and misfits of all persuasions, who benignly coexist with their more bourgeois Bürger neighbours. Despite the rising cost of living here, it still seems to be full of creative people doing God knows what but always looking like they’re having the time of their lives.

And as anyone navigating its countless construction sites knows, it’s also a place of sheer, unbounded potentiality. As the art critic Karl Scheffler famously wrote in 1910: it is a city that is “damned to keep becoming, and never to be”. When I finally board the plane out of here after nearly a decade in this city, it will be that “becoming-ness” I’ll miss most.

This to me is an incredible compliment for a city that I barely know, but that he presumably knows quite well. What makes cities truly great is that they're constantly in a state of becoming. In fact, it's exactly how I would describe Toronto. To be, means you've arrived somewhere. It also implies a certain stasis. And that's not what you want when you're a city. You want a constant flow of news ideas and new energy changing things. It makes me happy to know that Berlin, seemingly, hasn't lost this.

Cover photo by Stephan Widua on Unsplash