The right to breathe in Vietnam's cities

Another unused piece of public land at 1 Ly Thai To, measuring 3.7 hectares, is also set to become green space.

Up north, Hanoi is clearing over two hectares of prime land, previously used for government offices and housing, to build a central plaza besides upgrading Dong Kinh Nghia Thuc Square.

Together, these moves suggest that Vietnam is entering a new phase in urban planning, one that puts shared, long-term benefits ahead of short-term or narrow interests.

Even so, this hopeful shift stirs an old concern.

For years we have tolerated a troubling paradox in development: "Plan first, fix later." But these fixes rarely happen, unless sparked by an unusual policy breakthrough.

The Khanh Hoi Port project offers a clear example. It remained idle for more than a decade, blocking a critical traffic route that links outer districts to the city center. This caused years of congestion, wasting time and fuel, and affecting the health of hundreds of thousands of commuters.

It became a costly lesson in poor planning and delays.

Part of the Ben Nha Rong–Khanh Hoi Port site in Ho Chi Minh City will be turned into a park. Photo by VnExpress/Quynh Tran

So the question is: How do we get it right from the start? How can cities avoid the waste and damage caused by mistakes? What institutional reforms are needed so that planning becomes more systematic, where converting public land into community assets is prioritized, and developers are encouraged to pursue balanced outcomes?

Several countries have begun answering this challenge by formally recognizing a new principle called the "Right to Breathe."

This idea has gained global momentum in recent years. In 2021 the United Nations Human Rights Council declared that a "clean, healthy and sustainable environment" is a basic human right, a resolution affirmed by the General Assembly in 2022.

Since then many countries have written this right into national laws or constitutions. It gives legal weight to the protection of air quality, green spaces and public areas, especially as cities become denser.

Living in Japan as both an urban planner and resident, I see clearly why this right must be protected by law.

Like many developed countries, Japan enforces strict zoning regulations and land-use standards for every new development.

These regulations require a 0.25-hectare neighborhood park within 250 meters of every residential cluster, a two-hectare community park within 500 meters and small "pocket parks" for older areas.

Larger regional parks, measuring four hectares or more, serve larger areas, while suburbs have sport forests and disaster-resilient open zones.

Japan's national greening standard mandates 10-15 square meters of park space per resident in line with global best practices.

A new 2024 law on urban green space also ties in climate goals, biodiversity and incentives to green rooftops, parking lots and public buildings.

Despite Tokyo's reputation as a "concrete jungle," the city is home to three major parks, Ueno, Yoyogi and Shinjuku Gyoen, each some 54 hectares in size, the same as Hanoi's Thong Nhat Park.

Further out, Showa Kinen Park spans 150 hectares, making it Japan's largest. The guiding philosophy is simple: green space is not an extra; it is essential infrastructure.

But in Vietnam green space standards fall far short.

The national goal for major cities is seven to nine square meters per resident, but Hanoi has only around two square meters and Ho Chi Minh City, just 0.6.

While standards do exist, they are rarely enforced. Projects that reduce green space get approval, weakening public trust in the law.

Parks are just one part of a larger urban commons. Sidewalks, water bodies, plazas, and playgrounds all form this ecosystem.

In Japan's 1919 City Planning Law, the term "public facility" appears repeatedly with clear definitions.

A separate law enacted in 1968 requires every redevelopment project to state what public infrastructure it will include, where it will be located and how it fits into zoning and environmental plans, and all of those are backed by financial incentives.

Vietnam does have a general Planning Law, but no dedicated law for urban redevelopment. Existing urbam planning work is loosely covered by Government Decree 11/2013, with questionable legal sanctity.

Other countries have made the right to breathe, and to walk, central to their development policies, even before the right to profit.

The riverside parks and walkways that now brighten Hamburg, London and Yokohama were once coal yards and industrial zones.

In the U.K., U.S., Germany, the Netherlands, and Japan, urban redevelopment laws actively support public-benefit features even if they do not always require them.

For example, the U.K.’s Planning Act (Section 106) makes developers of former industrial sites contribute to public infrastructure, either financially or in kind.

In Germany’s HafenCity, every redevelopment must include a fixed portion of public space and ensure public access to ground floors.

In New York, developers along the waterfront must build public esplanades to receive permits.

The Netherlands’ Environment and Planning Act allows land swaps, similar to Vietnam’s land-for-infrastructure model, to maintain public access to riverbanks.

These measures help create layered urban environments, where open riverfronts are in the front of urban projects and commercial buildings are set farther back.

At the same time land values often rise along parks and waterfronts, helping developers recoup costs. Public space, then, is not a trade-off, and can be a generator of value.

Putting public interest first is not only ethical; it is also a test of a city's ability to govern.

In Vietnam, current laws on planning, land and construction barely mention public spaces or community infrastructure.

The 2024 Planning Law touches on parks, green areas, squares, and water surfaces, but only in vague terms.

To truly guarantee the right to breathe, Vietnam must reform its laws.

This means setting clear minimum public space ratios, especially for state-owned land, and making them legally binding. Only then can cities protect green spaces in a structural, lasting way.

Every major urban renewal in advanced countries starts from one belief: The government is not a property developer but is the steward of public value, public memory and public fairness.

Old ports, factories and railroad, once key infrastructure, should be reborn as "urban lungs" or places where people can walk, gather, rest, and feel that the city still belongs to them.

The right to breathe is not a slogan. In hot, crowded cities, it lives in every park, every square, and every riverside path.

Legal measures must safeguard these places.

When cities neglect their public spaces, they suffocate. But when laws protect these green lungs, cities can breathe, and remind us of the core truth that urban development must serve human life.

*To Kien is an architect working as a senior planner and manager of Eight-Japan Engineering Consultants Inc. He has been a lecturer and researcher at universities in Hanoi, Singapore and Fukuoka (Japan).