Why do we sometimes feel unsafe, even when crime statistics suggest otherwise?

In an era of rapid social and technological change, security has become a central concern for every European citizen. Yet, the threats we perceive are often different from the objective reality. A broken window, a poorly lit park, or a sensationalist headline can trigger deep anxiety, regardless of the actual crime rate.

EUNWA is pleased to present its new White Paper, "Risk Perception and the Psychology of Security: From Theory to Action".

This document is not merely an academic study; it is an operational handbook designed to bridge the gap between psychological theory and the everyday practice of security. It serves as a practical guide for citizens, law enforcement officers, and policymakers who wish to build safer, more resilient communities.

From 'Eastwick' to Real life: what you will find inside

To make complex concepts accessible, the White Paper introduces the fictional neighbourhood of 'Eastwick'. Through the stories of its residents—like Klaus and Mary—we explore how cognitive biases, social media, and gender perspectives shape our sense of safety.

Key topics covered include:

• The "Insecurity Lifecycle": How a vague sense of unease transforms into fear and changes our behaviour.
• Signal Crimes: Why minor signs of disorder (like graffiti or vandalism) can have a disproportionate impact on a community's trust.
• The Gender Perspective: Understanding the specific and often overlooked dynamics of women's safety in public and private spaces.
• The Trap of "Fake News": How to navigate the digital landscape without falling prey to alarmism.

A Call for shared responsibility

This White Paper advocates for a "bottom-up" philosophy. We believe that security is not solely the task of institutions, but a shared objective that requires the active and conscious participation of every citizen.

However, this initiative also serves as a call to action for political leadership. As highlighted in the document, transparency, accountability, and a commitment to the social contract are the prerequisites for effective prevention.

Whether you are a Neighbourhood Watch coordinator, a police officer, a local councillor, or simply a concerned citizen, this handbook provides the tools to:

• Develop critical thinking and risk literacy.
• Communicate more effectively during crises.
• Implement evidence-based strategies like the 'Contact Hypothesis' to reduce social friction.

Download the Full White Paper (PDF)

By Valeria Lorenzelli

 What words do you use to describe the places in your city?

I have a confession to make: I have a deep aversion to the word "periphery". It’s a subtle, almost imperceptible irritation. Every time I hear someone use it to describe parts of my city or others, I find myself wondering what hidden assumptions they are unconsciously trying to uphold.

Over time, I've come to realise it’s a term that conceals an implicit hierarchy of value; a division that goes far beyond simple urban geography. The "periphery" is never just a physical location. It is a social construct, laden with judgment. It carries a default narrative of marginality and lack; a distance that is not just physical but cultural and moral, from a supposed "centre" of greater importance.

The Hidden Power of Words

In my work with placemaking, I've learned that places are also stories. They are collective narratives that define how we see spaces, how we live in them, how we invest in them, and even how we build public policies to transform them. The words we choose to describe places are just that—a choice. And for that reason, they are never neutral.

When we label a neighbourhood as "run-down," "at-risk," or a "dormitory suburb," we are building a narrative that influences perceptions, policy decisions, and the very sense of belonging for those who live there every day. As Henri Lefebvre, the theorist of "spatial justice," wrote: "Urban space is not a neutral container, but a social product that reflects power relations". And language is one of the most potent tools through which these power relations are expressed and perpetuated.

Labelling a neighbourhood as "the periphery" is like a bully giving a classmate a demeaning nickname. The nickname doesn't actually describe the person, but it creates a narrative that weakens them, one that others accept without question. Over time, this label affects how others see them, and even how they start to see themselves. In the same way, defining a neighbourhood with negative labels builds a narrative that impacts both external perception and the identity of those who live there.

The use of the word "periphery" by some media outlets, especially those focused on crime reporting, is particularly problematic. These outlets tend to overuse the term to generalise and quickly sketch out troubling situations. In doing so, they trigger an unconscious apprehension in the reader or, conversely, a sense of privilege derived from feeling distant from such realities.

While it is difficult to precisely quantify the extent of this phenomenon, reports from the Osservatorio di Pavia, initiatives by the Bracco Foundation (like the 'Ten, One Hundred, One Thousand Centres' conference), and studies by Save the Children all confirm a structural problem: the media and social narrative of the peripheries often focuses on deprivation, decay, and marginality. The result is that the opportunities, resources, and development potential present in these areas are obscured.

As Save the Children points out in its 'Atlas of Children at Risk':

"One of the problems for children and young people in the Italian peripheries is the mental laziness with which we have, for decades, continued to represent the contexts where they are born and grow up. Headline after headline, image after image, we have helped create indelible labels that stick to them, fuelling anger and frustration. While the reputation of some neighbourhoods risks branding the aspirations and dreams of many young people, the term 'periphery' is used so obsessively that it has almost lost all meaning."

This selective portrayal creates what the urban sociologist Loïc Wacquant calls "territorial stigma". This is a process where the negative public image of these neighbourhoods becomes impressed upon both the public consciousness and state policies, fuelling prejudice and fear. It triggers a vicious cycle where media stigma reinforces social isolation and economic disinvestment.

The Voice of the Inhabitants

A fundamental aspect, often overlooked, is the impact these narratives have on those who live in the territories labelled as "peripheries". When we listen to the inhabitants, a complex and ambivalent relationship with these external narratives emerges.

On one hand, we find a strong identification with their area and a sense of community that is often more intense than elsewhere, sometimes accompanied by an internalisation of that stigma. On the other, this awareness can also generate proactivity, positive action, and the strength to act authentically and assert their right to self-determination.

This is a significant problem for adolescents, who are still defining their own identities and could end up self-limiting their potential. Those who live in stigmatised contexts may internalise the idea that they live in a place of lesser value or with fewer opportunities, to the point of giving up on seeking future possibilities.

As a professional working in these communities, what I find most important is that this one-dimensional narrative offers no support to people and opens no doors for improvement.

A New Lexicon for Our Communities

This awareness led to my playbook, "#1Post.t: Words That Map Places": a guide to language for describing neighbourhoods that overcomes stereotypes and prejudices, and helps us see our communities with fresh eyes. This playbook offers concrete tools and new ways of seeing and speaking about contemporary urban complexity in its entirety, moving beyond the oversimplifications that often characterise public debate.

Take, for example, the expression "dormitory suburb". This term reduces an entire community to its residential function, as if it were fundamentally true that people only return there to sleep, living their "real" daily lives elsewhere. A more balanced narrative would instead acknowledge the social relationships, the small businesses, and all the elements that make up the daily life of a neighbourhood. Terms like "neighbourhood network" highlight the bonds between residents, while "neighbourhood ecosystem" illuminates the complex social and economic dynamics. Even definitions like "housing context," "urban structure," or "urban fabric" offer a more complete picture and avoid devaluing the place. Or, we can simply call it a "neighbourhood" and let the events and stories of those who live there define its identity.

Developing a more precise vocabulary, therefore, means critically questioning the categories we use to interpret these territories. It means recognising their intrinsic complexity and the multiple identities that characterise them, beyond reductive frameworks.

It's crucial to clarify and acknowledge the limits of our language, because this allows us to move past the simple existence of fragile situations. In fact, when an area is genuinely experiencing social vulnerability or violence, the very first step towards authentic change is to restore dignity to that place through respectful language.

"A problem well-stated is a problem half-solved." — Charles Kettering

A truly transformative approach begins with a change in perspective. We must see these places as territories with their own identities, clearly define the problem, fully understand their specific resources and potential, and effectively tackle any challenge.

Ultimately, the vocabulary we use to describe our communities is a matter of territorial justice. Abandoning the binary logic of centre/periphery means embracing a polycentric vision of our cities, where every neighbourhood is valued for its uniqueness, not measured by its distance from a supposed centre.

Download the "Words That Map Places" playbook to begin your journey towards a more conscious use of territorial language. Whether you are a communicator, a public administrator, a professional, or simply someone interested in seeing your city with fresh eyes, this guide offers concrete tools for a communication style that is more respectful of the complexity of our communities.

So, what words do you use to describe the places in your city?

How Urban Design is Failing Women’s Safety

We’ve all felt it. That momentary chill walking through a deserted public space at night, even when the lights are on. It’s that feeling of being "small and invisible", as urban planner Nourhan Bassam aptly describes it in a recent article for Dutch newspaper Nrc. It perfectly captures a paradox at the heart of community safety.

In the wake of tragedies, like the murder of 17-year-old Lisa in Amsterdam on a cycle path women had already flagged as unsafe, the typical response is a call for "formal security measures". This usually means more CCTV or a greater police presence.

But as the report highlights, these measures don't always make women feel safer. Why? Because CCTV only helps after the fact. At the moment of the crime, it’s useless.

The real issue, experts argue, is that our cities have been historically designed by and for their "original planner: the man". This has created environments that fail to account for the lived experience and safety perceptions of women.

The Failure of Design: Formal vs. Social Safety

The core problem is a simple lack of 'eyes on the street' — a term famously coined by the visionary writer and activist Jane Jacobs in the 1960s. It refers to the natural, social surveillance from surrounding buildings and passers-by that makes a public space feel alive and safe.

The article identifies several common design failures that breed insecurity:

• Hostile Architecture: Anonymous office buildings, locked doorways, and few ground-floor windows create dead zones where no one is looking out.
• Poor Sightlines: Bus stops with advertising panels that block the view, or high fences around parks, make it impossible to see who is nearby.
• Bad Lighting: This isn't just about too little light; lighting that is too intense can be just as bad, creating deep, dark shadows where someone could hide.
• Obscured Areas: Overgrown bushes or tunnels without emergency exits create points of high anxiety.
• Single-Use Spaces: A renovated square in Utrecht, fitted with a skate park and CrossFit equipment, was cited as a prime example. As the urbanist notes, "it really seems as if half the population is simply forgotten".
• (Anachronistic or) Outdated Materials: Stone and cobblestone pavements, while aesthetically pleasing, create accessibility issues for women in heeled shoes. The irregular surface forces the heel to wedge between gaps, risking twisted ankles or broken heels. Unlike smooth surfaces, stone floors require constant attention while walking, making the experience tiring and uncomfortable. This architectural choice, though traditional, inadvertently excludes those who wear formal footwear, particularly women in professional or elegant settings.

How to Design for "Eyes on the Street"

Frustratingly, this knowledge isn't new. As one academic notes, urban planners were "having the same conversations forty years ago". It begs the question: why has so little changed?

The solutions proposed are not complex or expensive. They are simply centred on encouraging human presence:

• Placing more bars or kiosks that stay open late.
• Encouraging shops with windows that remain lit in the evening.
• Positioning tram stops near busy cafes, with open-plan shelters that don't block the view.
• Designing parks with well-lit paths and placing benches or sports facilities in raised, visible positions rather than hidden corners
• Choose smooth, even surfaces that accommodate all footwear types and mobility needs.
• Select vegetation that maintains clear sightlines: tall trees with high canopies, hedges kept below waist height, and open lawn areas that eliminate hiding spots while preserving green space.

Lessons from Europe

Whilst the Netherlands has been slow to act, other European cities are already showing how it's done.

• Vienna has had an office for gender-inclusive urban planning for 25 years.
• In Barcelona, women can request extra bus stops along the route after 10 PM to be dropped off closer to their homes.
• In Karlskoga, Sweden, authorities prioritise clearing snow from pavements (used more by women) before clearing roads.

These examples prove that a safer city for women is simply a safer city for everyone.

Experts insist this approach must become "a stable and mandatory part" of all urban development. It should be, they argue, "an essential requirement in tenders for newly built neighbourhoods".

This isn't just about changing infrastructure; it's about changing a mindset. We must move beyond reactive security and finally start designing public spaces that feel safe, by ensuring there are always eyes on the street.

Valeria Lorenzelli 

Source: The analysis and expert opinions in this article are drawn from Steden zijn gebouwd door de ‘oorspronkelijke planner: de man’. Dat moet anders. (Cities were built by the 'original planner: the man'. That has to change.)  by Julia Vié, originally published in Nrc (Netherlands), 10^th October 2025.