In our exclusive Design Fiction series for France’s CB News, we dive into the future through imaginative storytelling: short, thought-provoking pieces that explore what’s next for industries like fashion, tourism, banking, and more. Inspired by real signals shaping our world today, each article examines the possibilities ahead and unpacks what they mean for brands, communication, and strategy.
dentsu X imagines tomorrow, today.
The aim of this design fiction exercise is to analyze how our society's weak signals could change it if they were to become the norm in twenty- or thirty-years’ time. This exercise is not intended to predict the future, but rather to understand how brands could adapt to, or even play a role in, these possible transformations.
By 2148, buying real estate is nothing more than a distant memory, replaced by residential contracts that are adjusted based on lifestyle and consumption. Citizens are no longer owners or even traditional renters but subscribers to urban ecosystems designed by brands. Real estate developers no longer deal directly with residents but negotiate exclusively with companies and, to a lesser extent, the State.
Real estate agents have become lifestyle advisors, capable of analyzing, in real time, the needs and residential score of each individual through predictive AI to recommend the ideal brand-city. Notaries have been replaced by blockchain, automating transactions and allowing individuals to effortlessly adjust their residence contracts.
Living somewhere is no longer just about having a home; it means adhering to a lifestyle, choosing a philosophy, and displaying one's values.
And you, which brand-city would you like to live in?
Date: Brand-city Cuperty, 15 March 2148
Elliot has reached the age of choice—18 years old, the gateway to adulthood, and most importantly, the opening of his exploratory pass. Like all young people his age, he has grown up in a brand-city built around a strong identity. He lives in Cuperty, a city following the principles of circular design, inspired by the iconic headquarters of the brand. Here, everything is fluid and anticipated. Every morning, personalized suggestions appear on the interactive surfaces of the family apartment: an optimized itinerary, the least crowded restaurants, a playlist tailored to his mood. Here, there are no waiting lines, no public disputes, and no surprises either. Weeks can pass without the need to question anything.
But something inside him has resisted this perfection. He doesn’t know yet if he wants to leave, but he wants to see what lies beyond.
At 18, every resident's score is temporarily suspended. This score system is central to brand-cities, calculated based on seniority, subscription duration, and alignment with brand values. The higher the score, the more privileges one gains —larger housing, priority access to infrastructure, and exclusive services. His suspension coincides with the activation of the exploratory pass, a trial period allowing young people to experience different cities before choosing their future residence.
There are two versions of this pass. The virtual pass, accessible to everyone, allows augmented reality exploration of cities. From their own rooms, individuals navigate the city buildings, interact with simulated residents, and test services in an immersive but controlled way—calibrated to maximize appeal while hiding imperfections.
The real exploratory pass, reserved for top performing students, grants physical access to the cities, including trial stays, meetings with residents, and exclusive immersive experiences.
Elliot graduated with top marks, earning him the real exploratory pass. He will be able to see for himself whether each brand-city truly lives up to its promises.
It is a well-oiled initiation ritual, an essential strategy for brand-cities competing to secure the long-term loyalty of their residents, and, more importantly, to attract new inhabitants from neighboring cities. Elliot’s parents were the perfect examples of this brand loyalty. Twenty-five years ago, they subscribed to a lifetime residential plan at Cuperty after just one visit. Before that, they lived in Vosla, their childhood city. The two cities represent two opposing visions of progress. Vosla is known for its reconfigurable roads and modular buildings, which adapt in real-time to energy needs and climate conditions. Cuperty, on the other hand, eliminates all variations, offering predictability—the decisive factor for Elliot’s parents, whose vision of progress aligned with Cuperty’s vision.
Their choice shaped Elliot’s upbringing. Since childhood, he has been exposed to experiences designed to reinforce his attachment to Cuperty. At 7 years old, he participated in a simulation exercise, following a virtual version of himself through various global districts. At the end of the experience, predictive analysis confirmed that Cuperty was the most optimized environment for his profile. Elliot never doubted it. At 7 years old, one does not question what is presented as self-evident.
Although residents were free to move between brand-cities, very few did, as they had already chosen where they belonged. Family visits or school trips were among the rare opportunities to step outside one's community.
At 11 years old, during his first school exchange, Elliot realized other ways of living existed. During his exchange at McCity, he discovered a world entirely different from his own.
Upon arrival, he put on a branded jacket with the city's colors. He participated in a discovery day, exchanging HappyLiving credits for exclusive culinary experiences. In McCity, food was a game, a social bond, a celebration. McCity had not sold him a home, it had sold him a way of life.
This memory resurfaced as he sat in the autonomous taxi taking him to his first stop: Bytisia, the city of absolute transparency. Here, no one owns anything. A total sharing system governs everything, with credits earned by making one's life public. Those who live too privately are relegated to the lower floors of buildings. Privileges no longer depend on wealth but on the trust one inspires. Every wall, bench, and surface is monetized, sold to brands aiming to capture attention. In a store, Elliot saw a young man trying on a jacket. On a screen, an AI suggested: "Sponsored by ByteWear - Get 20% off your rent if you wear it in public three times a week."
Elliot didn't stay long in Bytisia. He didn’t want to be reduced to a living advertisement.
It is in Patanova that he finally finds room to breathe. Here, nothing is perfect—the urban landscape is organic, and buildings are made from recycled materials. Brands are not omnipresent, yet their absence itself is a marketing argument: "Here, you are free. No ads. No algorithms. No pressure." Even in a city that claims to break free from marketing, everything is still a matter of branding. Elliot observes these dynamics with fascination, but he doesn’t want to stay.
He has seen optimized cities, controlled cities, and even cities where the absence of tech is a brand promise. Yet, he has not found his ideal city—one that will let him live without categorization.
However, within the vast map of available habitats, there is one last option rarely advertised: neutral zones.
These places still resemble traditional cities, with mixed neighborhoods, public housing, and spaces free from intrusive advertising. Developers are still required by law to allocate 20% of land to non-privatized spaces managed by local communities. Major brands dismiss them as outdated, chaotic, and lacking urban coherence, a tactic intended to boost the appeal of their own brands.
But in reality, such neutral zones are not archaic enclaves. Here, one can rent without subscribing and live without affiliating with a corporation.
Elliot must see these neutral zones with his own eyes. Without telling his father, he has bought a ticket. This time, he will not try to fit into a pre-made identity.
He will create his own.
Originally posted on CBNews on 11th March 2025.
