Akon’s Senegalese dream of Akon City rose in the public imagination as a bold fusion of Afrofuturism, energy ambition, and celebrity-backed entrepreneurship. Yet the project’s defining flaw was governance from the outset: a grand blueprint without a viable framework for how a city would actually be steered, regulated, and accountable to residents. The result, decades later, is a cautionary tale about the essential ingredient missing from so many “future city” visions: governance. What began as a high-profile plan to transform Mbodiène, a coastal village in Senegal, now stands as a stark reminder that the hardest part of building a new city is not its skyline or its technology, but its political and administrative core. In the months and years following Akon’s proclamation in 2020, the project faltered as questions about governance multiplied, and the Senegalese government ultimately confirmed that the project no longer exists in the form envisaged by the rapper-entrepreneur. The episode underscored a pattern that recurs across the globe: ambitious, paradigm-shifting city schemes often founder not because of financial or technical hurdles alone, but because they fail to articulate who governs what, how decisions are made, and by what rules residents, investors, and authorities live together.
Akon City: ambition, execution, and the governance vacuum
In proposing Akon City on the site of Mbodiène, Senegal, the rapper Akon did not merely sketch a utopian residential district or a hypermodern business hub. He framed a holistic ecosystem designed to redefine economic activity, urban life, and civic engagement in Africa. The vision included 100% solar power, signaling an unequivocal commitment to renewable energy and sustainability at scale. It imagined Africa’s most advanced hospital, a state-of-the-art university, and a thriving economy powered, in part, by Akon’s cryptocurrency. Each of these elements suggested a city that would operate at the cutting edge of technology, medicine, and finance. Yet behind the glow of such elements lay a fundamental question that went unanswered: how would Akon City be governed? Who would write the laws that regulate land use, housing, business licensing, and taxation? How would public services be delivered, monitored, and improved? What institutions would ensure accountability, transparency, and rule of law in a city built to model a new era?
The neglect to address governance left gaps that would prove hard to bridge once the project moved beyond ceremonial announcements. Governance is not merely a legal or ceremonial ritual; it is the backbone that determines how a city allocates resources, adjudicates disputes, and ensures that development serves the public interest rather than a narrow set of interests. In practice, Akon City faced a convergence of pressures: rapid investment, ambitious timelines, and the lure of a techno-optimist narrative that appeals to investors and public imagination alike. When governance is excluded from the blueprint, cities risk drifting into zones that are either administratively loose or politically fragile, where decisions are made by a small circle rather than through a transparent, participatory process. The Akon project illustrates this risk vividly: even as plans called for a futuristic, self-sustaining urban center, there was no clear articulation of how governance would translate the dream into everyday life.
The Senegalese government’s decision to reclaim most of the land that had been set aside for Akon City marked a watershed in the project’s trajectory. Officially, the development does not exist in the form initially promised by the rapper-entrepreneur. The land dispute and the government’s intervention underscored a broader truth about governance in large urban development initiatives: without a credible governance plan—one that delineates authority, accountability, and public participation—the line between visionary branding and viable administration can blur into ambiguity. What remained on a smaller scale—a welcome center and a basketball court—could not sustain the broader ambitions of a city described as a 21st-century icon for Africa’s growth. The government’s decision to reclaim most of the tract, leaving only a slim opportunity for a resort at a remaining patch, signaled a practical pivot away from a project that failed to reconcile its visionary elements with governance realities.
This case also highlights a wider pattern in the realm of high-profile urban futures. The combination of celebrity influence, substantial capital, and a grand promise often outpaces the political and administrative frameworks necessary to translate a plan into livable, governed space. In Akon City’s arc, the governance vacuum was not merely an oversight; it was a structural flaw that undermined the project’s credibility and feasibility. The Senegal episode thus offers a compact but powerful teaching moment for future city initiatives: design governance with the same seriousness and attention as you design infrastructure, technology, or financial infrastructure. Without governance as a central backbone, even the most alluring plans risk turning into artifacts of aspiration rather than living, functioning cities.
The broader pattern: governance as the decisive variable in futuristic city dreams
Akon City is not an isolated example. Across the globe, a chorus of political figures, venture capitalists, and national governments has floated the idea of futuristic, paradigm-shifting cities intended to advance new aesthetics, technologies, or sustainability standards. Yet for all their grandeur, many of these proposals betray a fundamental weakness: they lack clear governance concepts, or they entirely sidestep the question of how authority is organized, legitimized, and exercised. The developers of such visions often begin with a compelling narrative—an environmentally sustainable metropolis, a cradle of advanced manufacturing, a network-state of digital governance—that makes an attractive headline. What remains underappreciated is that governance is the indispensable instrument that translates vision into everyday life, enforces rules, distributes resources, and mediates conflicts between diverse stakeholders.
This governance challenge manifests in several recurring patterns. First, some projects present governance as a given—a natural outgrowth of the city’s utopian character—without detailing the structural design of political institutions, agencies, or decision-making processes. The consequence is a plan that promises reform but provides little to no mechanism for actual reform on the ground. Second, others lean into non-democratic or quasi-democratic models, assuming that a centralized power could weld disparate interests into a unified urban future. This approach risks eroding civic trust and creating governance arrangements that lack legitimacy, transparency, or public buy-in. Third, a subset of proposals frames governance as a mere administrative convenience—laws, permits, and zoning—without embedding participatory, transparent, and accountable governance practices that could sustain resilient urban systems over time. In all these variations, the central shortcoming is governance design, not merely financing or technology.
These patterns are not abstract. They have concrete ramifications for local autonomy, democratic norms, and the social contract that binds a city’s residents to its future. The more a project depends on a top-down or technocratic vision, the greater the risk that governance becomes a secondary consideration, an afterthought, or a checkbox to placate investors. In such environments, governance remains under-specified, leaving room for ambiguity about jurisdiction, accountability, and the ability of residents to influence outcomes. As a result, ambitious city proposals—even those backed by some of the most influential minds in technology and business—tend to falter when governance requirements are not prioritized from the outset.
In short, the Akon City narrative serves as a microcosm of a global phenomenon. While visionary branding, sustainable design targets, and tech-enabled conveniences attract attention and capital, the critical, determinative factor for success lies in governance architecture. Who has legitimacy to decide land use and zoning? How are taxes collected, budgets approved, and services delivered? What protections exist to ensure transparency, accountability, and civil participation? Without credible answers to these questions, even the most dazzling visions risk remaining unrealized or devolving into symbolic displays rather than functional urban spaces.
California Forever and the question of local governance in visionary metros
Among the most discussed contemporary examples of the governance dilemma in future-city projects is California Forever, a proposed city on the Bay Area’s outskirts that claims to embody the California Dream while driving a new era of manufacturing, housing, and energy-conscious neighborhoods. The founder-CEO’s rhetoric has framed the project as a crucible for 21st-century urbanization, with ambitions that promise North America’s largest advanced manufacturing site, an integrated ecosystem where job centers are closely aligned with housing, and infrastructure that is energy-efficient and climate-resilient. The scope and ambition are unmistakably bold: a fully fledged urban environment designed to serve as a living laboratory for cutting-edge industry, sustainable living, and high-quality urban life. Yet at the core of the California Forever proposition lies a governance ambiguity: how would this city be governed?
The governance blank at the heart of California Forever is more than a trivial oversight. It speaks to the essential question of how a new city would relate to the region’s existing political and administrative fabric. Initially, the project sought voter approval as an unincorporated community, a governance path that would have placed the city outside a traditional municipal framework while still subject to some layer of county oversight. This approach raised questions about the city’s autonomy: what powers would a new, unincorporated entity possess, and what constraints would be imposed by the surrounding counties and state law? The absence of a clear, credible plan for governance—one that would establish a formal city government, predictable public services, and transparent fiscal management—created significant friction with stakeholders who demand accountability and legitimacy in the allocation of public resources.
More recently, California Forever shifted toward exploring a merger with existing cities, a strategy that acknowledges the difficulties of founding a new municipality from scratch in a complex, regulation-heavy environment. While this pivot may offer a practical route to governance, it also raises new questions. How would the integration work in practice—what governance rules would apply, how would representation be organized, and what mechanisms would ensure coherent policy across the merged jurisdiction? These questions highlight the broader challenge that many high-profile future-city proposals face: even when governance is not entirely ignored, it can be treated as an afterthought or as a negotiable asset in a broader political calculus. In practice, California Forever’ s trajectory echoes other ambitious initiatives that began with a bold ambition and a strategic pivot toward existing governance structures, but without a fully articulated blueprint for how those structures would function in a brand-new urban setting.
When compared with other projects in the same ecosystem, California Forever’s governance uncertainties resemble a recurring pattern: a strong drive to push a futuristic aesthetic, intense capital inflows, and a recognizable demand for political legitimacy, yet a fragile, under-defined mechanism for how power, responsibility, and accountability will be distributed and exercised. The result is a state of limbo where investors, residents, and regulators must navigate a complex, sometimes opaque, patchwork of authorities and policies. The California Forever case demonstrates that even when a project sits squarely in democratic territory—relying on elections, local approvals, and public-appeal governance models—the absence of crisp, enforceable governance arrangements can impede progress, erode trust, and delay or derail development. It underscores the central argument: governance is not a peripheral concern but a core determinant of a futuristic city’s viability.
Belmont, Gates, and the governance debates around billionaire-led urban experiments
To understand the governance dynamics at play in billionaire-backed or high-visibility city visions, it is useful to look at Belmont, Bill Gates’ proposed city in Arizona, alongside other technology-led attempts to push urban form in new directions. Belmont, announced in 2017, sought to fuse cutting-edge technology with a governance philosophy anchored in innovation and optimization, but it ran into a familiar obstacle: governance planning that lacked concrete, verifiable details beyond aspirational statements. The broader line of analysis is simple, yet powerful: when the governance framework is not clearly articulated, when the city’s authority structure, water security, civil liberties, and public participation are left under-specified, projects become vulnerable to delay, resource misallocation, or collapse. In Belmont’s case, an additional practical issue compounded governance questions: water sourcing. Skeptics pointed out the project’s inability to secure a reliable water supply, a foundational constraint that would undermine any attempt to sustain a growing urban population and economy. The absence of a credible water strategy in tandem with governance questions created a structural vulnerability and highlighted the fact that even seemingly basic urban necessities cannot be sidelined in aspirational city-building.
The Gates-backed endeavor thus sits within a broader sequence of governance debates: even when a project seeks to codify a future-oriented lifestyle, the governance architecture—how power is distributed, how decisions are made, who participates, and how accountability is enforced—must be credible and robust. Without that, even a project with strong financial backing or a high-profile leadership team risks stagnation or reversal. The Belmont example also illustrates how governance concerns intersect with essential urban services, most notably water, which anchors the feasibility of any new urban center. Water security is not merely an infrastructure challenge; it is a governance problem, requiring regulatory regimes, intergovernmental collaboration, and long-term resource management plans that align with environmental, social, and economic objectives. The Belmont case, by highlighting these governance and supply issues, reinforces a broader imperative for future-city proposals: governance must be designed to withstand environmental and logistical realities, not just aesthetic and technological ambitions.
In the larger discourse, billionaire-backed urban experiments inevitably become focal points for debates about democratic governance versus technocratic or semi-autonomous governance models. Some proponents argue that highly centralized or technocratic approaches can accelerate progress and deliver highly optimized outcomes. Critics contend that such models risk eroding political legitimacy, suppressing local voices, and creating governance silos that are insulated from ordinary civic oversight. The Belmont example is not a standalone critique but part of a wider, ongoing conversation about who wields power in the cities of the future, how their decisions are checked, and whether residents retain a meaningful say in shaping the urban landscapes they inhabit. The core lesson is consistent across these debates: regardless of the scale, scope, or sophistication of the plan, governance remains the bottleneck. The fate of visionary projects will hinge not only on capital, technology, or branding but on the integrity, inclusivity, and resilience of the governance architecture that underwrites them.
Seasteading, Praxis, and the advocacy of governance beyond democratic legitimacy
The governance discussion surrounding future cities broadens beyond conventional municipal boundaries to concepts that explicitly challenge the premise of local democratic accountability. One notable strand is anchored in the Seasteading Institute, funded in part by prominent figures such as Peter Thiel, which advocates for building floating cities in international waters that would exist beyond the reach of traditional democratic governance structures. The core proposition of seasteads is to create experimental jurisdictions that operate outside conventional state sovereignty, thereby enabling alternative legal systems, regulatory regimes, and social contracts. This approach elevates the governance question to a philosophical and constitutional plane: should innovation outpace the need for democratic legitimacy, or should city-building always operate within the framework of accountable governance with public consent? The Seasteading philosophy posits that governance can be specialized, modular, and market-driven, but it simultaneously invites scrutiny about the rights of residents, the mechanism for dispute resolution, and the long-term social obligations of such communities.
A notable investor in the seasteading space has been Pronomos, a San Francisco-based venture capital firm that funds “prosperous cities that grow to empower entire nations.” One of Pronomos’ projects, the Praxis network-state, has attracted more than 2,200 registered citizens but remains without a territorial home. The Praxis project is emblematic of the tension between aspirational sovereignty and practical governance: it promises a global citizenry connected by shared rules and a political experiment that transcends geography, yet it lacks a conventional jurisdiction, which makes governance accountability and enforcement more complex. These seasteading and network-state ventures illustrate a broader category of governance experimentation in the realm of futuristic cities: the attempt to reimagine political authority, sovereignty, and citizenship outside the established municipal or even national frameworks.
Yet the seasteading and network-state narratives also reveal the trade-offs and potential pitfalls of governance models that operate outside familiar democratic guardrails. The central concern is not the feverish excitement about “alternative governance” per se, but the fundamental question of legitimacy and accountability. If a city or jurisdiction lacks a clear mechanism for democratic oversight, regular elections, transparent budgeting, and robust judicial processes, it risks becoming an enclave for the powerful, a laboratory for the privileged, or a fragile experiment susceptible to political capture. The Praxis network-state demonstrates that the appeal of alternative governance formats can be strong, especially among investors and technologists who seek to redefine the rules of social organization. However, the lack of a physical territorial home and the absence of conventional, locally grounded political accountability complicate long-term governance viability.
This governance debate is not limited to private or non-state ventures. In many national contexts, governments themselves are exploring or proposing futures that involve altered governance arrangements. The contrast between such approaches and conventional municipal democracy raises essential questions: can innovation flourish within flexible, experiment-driven governance models, and if so, under what safeguards? The conversation around Seasteading, Praxis, and related ideas highlights both the creative energy fueling futuristic-city dreams and the governance risks embedded in attempts to bypass traditional democracies. It underscores the necessity of robust governance design as a public good, ensuring that experimentation does not undermine accountability, equity, and the rights of residents.
Nusantara, forest cities, and the governance gaps in national-scale visions
Governments around the world have proposed a range of futuristic city concepts that intersect with sovereignty, national development priorities, and environmental objectives. Indonesia’s Nusantara project—intended to become the country’s new capital—illustrates one cluster of governance questions that arise when a project involves a national-scale relocation and a reimagined urban framework. In this case, the national government has asserted a governance stance that emphasizes consolidation of power and central control, culminating in a plan to locate a capital city with minimal local government autonomy. The decision to proceed with a capital relocation of such scale brings to the fore crucial questions about how governance will operate at the subnational and local levels once the new metropolis takes shape: who makes zoning decisions, who is accountable for service delivery, how will mentors and youth be integrated into policy dialogues, and what structures will ensure compliance with environmental and social goals?
In the broader context of visionary city proposals, several other countries have introduced concepts that hinge on environmental sustainability and urban ecology, but with limited attention to governance mechanisms at the local scale. For instance, proposals around new “forest cities” in regions like Mexico and Malaysia emphasize ecological resilience and urban forestry as central pillars of urban design. However, the governance implications of these ecological ambitions—how councils, communities, indigenous groups, and civil society organizations would participate in decision-making, how resources and land would be allocated, and how accountability would be maintained—often remain under-specified. In the absence of explicit governance schemas, such proposals can drift into symbolic statements rather than concrete policymaking, undermining public trust and hampering implementation.
Meanwhile, in Saudi Arabia, The Line presents a bold vision of a city that would house up to nine million residents with a futuristic density and mobility model. Yet, similar to other ambitious ventures, it lacks a clear articulation of local autonomy and governance structures. The project’s governance narrative remains notably thin: there is minimal public detail about how local autonomy would work, how residents would participate in governance, and how governance would be reconciled with the state apparatus. This absence of local governance specifics reflects a deeper tension in large-scale national visions: the difficulty of aligning centralized political authority with ambitious urban forms that require participatory governance, decentralized services, and local accountability mechanisms. In each case, the governance question remains central: can a megaproject designed around a new urban aesthetic deliver good governance and genuine public legitimacy?
In parallel, Telosa stands out as a counterpoint to the governance gaps seen in other mega-city schemes. Telosa proposes a high degree of governance transparency and participatory democracy, with a structure that seeks to involve residents in government decision-making and to share in the city’s wealth through an inclusive economic model. Telosa’s emphasis on participatory governance and transparent decision-making marks a deliberate attempt to rectify the governance shortcomings observed in other visionary projects. It illustrates how a city manifesto can embed governance principles into its core design—creating institutional channels for public input, accountability, and shared prosperity, as opposed to governance-as-ornament. The Telosa model demonstrates that governance is not inherently incompatible with visionary urban design; rather, it can be the element that sustains the project’s legitimacy and long-term viability.
Smaller-scale governance breakthroughs: Mexico City’s utopias and participatory governance
Not all future-city experiments are grand-scale, nationwide, or privately financed. In fact, some of the most instructive governance lessons come from smaller, urban-scale experiments that meld aspiration with practical mechanisms for citizen participation and local autonomy. Mexico City’s Iztapalapa borough, for instance, has been recognized for proud, award-winning “utopias”—experimental neighbourhood developments that emphasize shared governance, participatory decision-making, and a degree of authority division between the mayor’s office and local residents. These micro-scale governance models show that when governance structures are designed to involve residents in planning, budgeting, and operational decisions, the outcomes can be more resilient and better aligned with community needs. The Iztapalapa experiments, while not a complete governance blueprint for a metropolis, provide a concrete example of how participatory governance can function within a modern city framework.
The Iztapalapa case underscores a broader insight about governance in visionary urban projects: even at smaller scales, without formal governance mechanisms that empower residents and ensure accountability, ambitious plans risk stagnation or failure. Yet when governance is embedded into project design, it can catalyze civic engagement, enhance trust in public institutions, and foster more responsive urban development. It also demonstrates that meaningful governance innovations can occur without creating a separate, autonomous political jurisdiction; instead, governance improvements can emerge from inclusive processes, shared decision-making, and transparent governance metrics that apply across neighborhoods and districts. As such, the Iztapalapa examples become important reference points for any ambitious city project, offering both evidence of what works and a reminder of the potential pitfalls when governance is left unaddressed.
In this context, the broader message is clear: some visionary cities succeed not by circumventing democratic governance but by integrating it in innovative, scalable ways. Telosa’s participatory democracy approach, for example, illustrates that it is possible to design governance structures that blend forward-looking urban design with robust public engagement. Conversely, projects that ignore governance risk a disconnect between centralized ambition and local realities, undermining social cohesion and sustainable development. The distinction between successful participatory governance and governance-averse models often hinges on whether residents feel they have real influence over decisions that affect their daily lives, whether governance processes are transparent and predictable, and whether the city’s institutions are capable of delivering on the promises embedded in the initial vision. The Iztapalapa experience demonstrates that this balance is achievable on a more modest scale and can serve as a proving ground for governance innovations that could someday be scaled to larger urban ambitions.
The current status of Akon City and what it teaches about governance and urban futures
Akon’s widely publicized African city project is not purely fictitious; it exists in a liminal state of partial development and deferred realization. The project, in the end, produced only a welcome centre and a basketball court—features that, while symbolically significant, fall far short of the comprehensive urban fabric envisioned in the original plan. The Senegalese government’s decision to reclaim most of the land underscores a practical assessment: without a credible governance framework and a sustainable basis for public authority over the space, the developmental potential of an ambitious city plan cannot be realized. The remaining patch, should a future investor or operator decide to pursue a resort or a smaller-scale development, exists within a governance landscape that is no longer anchored to a large-scale, city-wide governance blueprint. The Akon project thus serves as a rare empirical lesson in how governance considerations can determine the fate of even high-profile creative visions for urban futures.
This outcome also invites reflection on the value—and the limits—of celebrity-driven urban experiments. When the governance core is not co-designed with state institutions, local communities, and civil society, the risk that the project will drift or be dismantled increases substantially. Yet the Akon case does not negate the potential for future, governance-centered urban experiments inspired by celebrity or philanthropic capital. It simply reinforces a principle: governance must be embedded in the project from the outset, with clear mechanisms for public participation, accountability, and institutional legitimacy. The residual question, then, is about what governance models might reliably support similar ambitious visions in the future. How can future city projects balance the appeal of star power and private investment with the hard requirements of accountable governance, transparent decision-making, and durable public benefit? The Senegal episode reframes this inquiry as a call to action for policymakers, investors, and urbanists: to transform visionary rhetoric into sustainable governance architectures, capable of delivering tangible improvements in people’s lives.
In the wake of Akon City’s experience, observers have begun to contemplate new approaches to city-building—approaches that foreground governance as a central instrument of risk mitigation, social equity, and long-term viability. A productive line of inquiry looks at how participatory governance can be scaled from the neighborhood to the city level, how public-private partnerships can be structured to align private incentives with public interests, and how regulatory frameworks can be designed to accommodate experimentation while safeguarding essential civic values. It also invites a reconsideration of how we measure success in visionary urban projects. Rather than solely focusing on announced milestones, it is essential to evaluate governance legitimacy, citizen engagement, the resilience of public institutions, and the extent to which the city’s development serves broad-based prosperity. In this light, Akon City’s ultimate value may lie less in what it built and more in what it disclosed about the conditions under which future cities can become durable realities: governance that is explicit, inclusive, and enforceable, integrated from day one into every facet of urban design.
Conclusion
The saga of Akon City and the broader ecosystem of futuristic urban projects teach a singular, enduring lesson: governance is the indispensable hinge on which every ambitious city project must turn. Without a clear, credible, and enforceable governance framework—articulating who has authority, how decisions are made, how accountability is maintained, and how residents participate—fantasy risks eclipsing feasibility. The cases explored—Akon City in Mbodiène, California Forever, Belmont, the Seasteading and Praxis movements, Nusantara and forest-city proposals, The Line, Telosa, and Mexico City’s participatory utopias—show that the absence of governance plans often accompanies the most audacious visions. In several instances, governments and investors have either offered alternative governance models, such as participatory governance or flexible jurisdictional arrangements, or have reframed strategies to incorporate existing municipal structures, acknowledging that governance is not optional but foundational.
The most instructive contrast lies between projects that attempt to bypass governance and those that attempt to reform it from within. Telosa’s emphasis on transparency and participatory democracy represents a deliberate attempt to triangulate visionary design with robust governance. Mexico City’s Iztapalapa utopias demonstrate that meaningful governance can emerge at the neighborhood level when residents are empowered and when decision-making processes are accessible and accountable. Conversely, the absence of governance detail in California Forever, Belmont, and other high-profile proposals serves as a reminder that the most exciting aspects of a new city—its technology, its sustainability, its economy—do not compensate for governance gaps. In practical terms, the path forward for any future-city project lies in co-designing governance with stakeholders, embedding accountability and participatory mechanisms into every stage of planning and execution, and ensuring that environmental, social, and economic objectives are matched by resilient governance structures.
For Akon City, and for future attempts to realize bold urban futures, the takeaway is unambiguous: long-term viability requires governance that commands legitimacy and sustains public confidence. The governance design must address everyday realities—land use, service delivery, taxation, public safety, environmental stewardship, and social equity—while preserving the aspirational spirit that attracts investment and imagination. Only by placing governance at the center of the development process can visionary cities transform from headlines into living, thriving communities that endure beyond the fame of their founders. The conversation about future cities, therefore, should pivot from the allure of the idea to the concreteness of governance—where decisions are made with the people, for the people, and in a way that assures a shared, sustainable urban future.
