In the winter of 1991, the remains of the GDR's border fortifications were still visible on Potsdamer Platz. In fact, it was in the ruins of the former Esplanade luxury hotel where we found the first makeshift premises for our small architectural office. The void between the prefabricated buildings in former East-Berlin and the Philharmonie in the West became a space of opportunity that radiated enormous potential and attracted creative people from all over the world.

Today, in the eyes of many, that potential has been all but squandered. Potsdamer Platz has become a symbol for the city-for-profit, a space dedicated to pure consumption, with no more dreams left to dream.

Today, all that remains of Berlin’s roaring 90’s, with its vacant lots, empty spaces, and endless opportunities, is a wistful memory.

After over 30 years, there are very few voids left to fill – except, perhaps, for one remaining stretch of green in the middle of the city – the space surrounding, and including, the former airport Tempelhof. Its area is massive – with almost 2.5 acres, Tempelhofer Feld is one of the largest inner-city open-air spaces in the world.

But Tempelhofer Feld’s immense cultural significance is not based on size alone – what makes this piece of land a symbol of the “old” Berlin is precisely its incompleteness (Since the airport ceased operations in 2008, it has largely been left to its own devices). For many, its improvised atmosphere represents that feeling of hope and opportunity once ubiquitous throughout – and characteristic of - this city.

In 2014, a referendum initiated by a local social movement successfully overturned the Berlin Senate's tentative development plans for the area.

Since then, the housing market has contracted significantly, reigniting local debates about the future of Tempelhofer Feld, which borders on three centrally located and highly sought-after inner-city neighborhoods. But the discussion of its future involves more than the fate of yet another inner-city neighborhood dealing with rezoning and gentrification – what happens with Tempelhofer Feld will impact the identity of Berlin as a whole.

If Berlin wants to preserve its erstwhile spirit of open-mindedness; if it wants to resist turning into a place reserved for those who have long claimed their stakes here, or a shrinking subset of newcomers still able to afford it – then it must continue to identify new spaces of opportunity.

Last Friday, I strolled along the former airport’s landing strips, surrounded by a far-reaching urban tundra dipped in the comforting hues of the setting sun. Nearby, a trilling sky lard ascended into the sky, marking its territory. Many people were out and about, taking after-work strolls, engaging in kickboxing practice and Flamenco dances, perching on picnic blankets, cruising past on their bicycles, scooters, skateboards, and go-karts.

Someone was celebrating a birthday, their spot in the grass market out by an assortment of balloons.

The building containers for refugees, lodged between the former airport building and the open green space, and highly controversial when they were set up several years ago, have since been vacated. Nettles, knotweed and mugwort have reclaimed their habitat.

To me, this open space represents a society that has become little more than the sum of its parts: A society of isolated individuals that have abandoned the desire to genuinely connect with each other, and have grown destitute along the way. A society of attractive, mostly young people, fundamentally uninterested in a glance beyond their socioeconomic/cultural bubble.

The former airport building and the large open space around it – they’ve come to resemble a society with no ideas left to pursue, and no aspirations to fight for beyond the most immediate forms of gratification.

But it’s exactly these ideas and aspirations that we need most. What we need are unifying visions of the future, and the roadmaps for their realization.

Tempelhofer Feld could be a symbol for a new city, a city that continues to constantly reinvent itself.

A city for those already here and those that will join us in the years to come. I envision Berlin as a city with open arms, a welcoming city. Tempelhofer Feld could become a new district, an emblem of this new city: A city for humans, not cars. A city with penthouses reserved not for the wealthy, but for the roots of 20,000 trees planted on them. A city in which the space on those roofs is no longer wasted on building technology, but provides the base for bridges and walkways within a gigantic assortment of a thousand rooftop gardens, accessible to everyone, providing a view far beyond the limits of the city.

A city that combines the diversity of urban life with the deceleration of the countryside. A city whose sidewalks and public spaces are designed so that children can play in the sand, while teenagers shoot hoops around the corner and their grandparents may enjoy a game of pétanque in peace. A city with market halls offering fresh regional fruits and vegetables. A city that belongs not to a select few, but to everyone – including those that have yet to arrive. A pioneer city that sets an example for a world in which humans, animals and plants will flourish for generations to come. A city built with sustainable materials, a climate-neutral city. A city of compassion, respect, and shared leisurely spaces that look nothing like the parks and streets we know today, with their asphalt walkways, life-threatening streets, and sealed off squares. A city with enough space for heterogenous needs and philosophies of how we want to live and work.

A city that dares to explore new ambitious visions of society like the principle of universal basic income.

A city in which businesses align their economic activities with a democratically defined common good.

These are two examples worth taking seriously as roadmaps to a better world for everyone. And I believe we should give both ideas a try.

But is Berlin ready to change for the better?

Can we brave the pared down administrative structures and tedious political mechanisms so typical of decision-making processes in our city today?

Can we move past a fundamental fear of change, which has limited our visions of what to do with this swath of green land in the city center to timid plans of shallow development around its fringes?

Should we expect more of our government-owned housing companies, which are currently undermining all expectations when it comes to improving the housing situation?

Can we move forward despite misdirected financial structures imminent throughout the real estate sector?

Despite citizen’s initiatives that have brought the discussion to an indefinite standstill?

Despite our utility companies, which would prefer to continue running on fossil fuels until it’s simply too late?

How did we end up here? At a point where so many highly motivated and well-educated people are so dramatically undercutting their own potential to shape the world around them?

The answer lies in the structures and processes that prevent systemic change. We must remove and identify the road blocks clogging the pathways to innovation.

We must create moderated processes of participation that can level the playing field and sensitize all participants to the needs of others. We need to let curiosity flourish and free ourselves from a generalized fear of failure that shuts down any attempts at thinking outside the box.

If we manage to do that, then Tempelhofer Feld could provide a fertile ground for a model city district, a vanguard locale offering an exceptionally high quality of life for humans, animals and plants; a district within a model city that continuously reinvents itself.

This is what’s on my mind while I am observing these wonderfully diverse individuals on a mild summer evening as they move around amidst the setting sun.

The thing is - they really have no idea. Not an inkling of the influence they could exert, the power they could possess, if only they put their knowledge to use. To build a good city and a good life for everyone. A good life born in simulations, imaginations and dreams, and transcends them into reality.

Who’s ready to make a change?