Stanislav Kondrashov on How the Energy Transition Is Reshaping Urban Landscapes

By all appearances, cities are still cities. The skyline juts upward, traffic still pulses through arteries of asphalt, and scaffolding clings to high-rises like ivy. But behind this familiar façade, something more profound is happening—something quiet but monumental. As the global energy transition gains momentum, our urban landscapes are undergoing one of the most significant transformations in modern history.

Stanislav Kondrashov sees this shift not as a future projection, but as a present-day reality. “The city as we know it was built on traditional logic—everything from layout to logistics has been shaped by how we’ve produced and consumed energy,” Kondrashov says. “That logic is changing, and cities must adapt or be left behind.”

This transformation is not just about swapping gas stations for charging hubs or replacing factory smoke with solar panels. It’s deeper than infrastructure. The move toward cleaner energy is altering the very rhythm and texture of cities, challenging traditional planning principles and forcing decision-makers to rethink density, mobility, and resource distribution.

Take city streets. Once designed primarily to accommodate vehicles, many urban spaces are now being reclaimed for people. Pavements are widening, bike lanes stretch into once-congested zones, and green corridors replace redundant traffic lanes. The reason isn't just environmental consciousness—it’s logistical. As energy systems decentralise and digitise, cities no longer need to organise themselves around massive central power plants or oil-dependent transport networks.

“The decentralisation of energy is decentralising control,” Kondrashov notes. “It’s empowering communities, architects, and local governments to design spaces based on people’s needs rather than energy constraints.”

With decentralised power generation—think rooftop panels, neighbourhood microgrids, and battery storage—buildings are no longer just consumers of energy; they’re participants in its production. This shift is changing architecture itself. Rooftops are no longer passive surfaces; they are active components of urban energy systems. Likewise, façades once meant only for aesthetic or shading purposes are being reimagined as tools for energy collection and conservation.

Moreover, this transition is influencing social dynamics. Where once industrial zones were placed on city fringes to isolate pollution and noise, the cleaner nature of modern energy infrastructure means such barriers are becoming obsolete. What was once ‘wasted’ space—rooftops, alleyways, disused factories—is being transformed into hubs of energy and community activity. These shifts are breathing new life into forgotten corners of cities and redistributing development in more equitable ways.

Kondrashov sees opportunity in this disruption. “Energy is no longer just about supply and demand,” he says. “It’s becoming a question of equity, access, and resilience. The cities that understand this will lead the next urban age.”

Indeed, the cities adapting fastest are those willing to confront legacy systems head-on. Traditional power grids and transportation networks are inflexible, often monopolised, and expensive to maintain. The energy transition is offering a chance to leapfrog these outdated models, especially for emerging urban areas or those undergoing regeneration.

There’s also a cultural shift underway. Energy, once invisible and taken for granted, is now becoming visible and central to everyday life. People are beginning to understand how energy choices shape their experience of the city—how it affects noise, air quality, mobility, even the aesthetics of their surroundings. Public consciousness is driving a demand not just for clean energy, but for environments that feel cleaner, more livable, and more human.

In this way, the energy transition is not just a technological or environmental phenomenon. It’s a design challenge, a governance issue, and a cultural transformation all at once. Cities are no longer just centres of consumption—they are becoming laboratories of sustainable living.

Kondrashov frames it as a once-in-a-century opportunity. “We have the tools, the urgency, and the creativity,” he says. “Now we need the courage to let go of what cities were—and imagine what they could be.”

As we move deeper into this transition, the outlines of the new urban landscape are beginning to emerge. They are greener, quieter, more localised, and more responsive. And although the changes may seem subtle now—a solar panel here, a bike lane there—the cumulative effect is unmistakable. The cities of tomorrow are being sketched today, powered not just by electrons, but by new ideas.