Six roles, one line of enquiry.
If you are trying to understand a city under environmental pressure, from its material and energy flows to its heat exposure to who actually benefits, I help make that legible and worth acting on. I have done this inside government, consultancy, research, a large retailer and my own ventures, and the question underneath has never changed: what is the city doing to nature, what is it doing to the people in it, and what would a fairer version look like.
I grew up in the Canary Islands, a cluster of volcanic islands in the Atlantic where the relationship between people and a fragile environment is not abstract. Water, land and energy are visibly finite there, and you learn early that a place is a system with limits. That is where the question that still drives me began: how do human settlements sit inside the living systems they depend on, and how do we make that relationship legible enough to change it.
I trained first as an environmental scientist and urban planner in Granada, then took a Master's in Sustainability Science at the Polytechnic University of Catalonia, and later a Master's in Urban Spatial Science at The Bartlett, UCL. Along the way I taught myself to build software properly, through a 480-hour immersive and years of shipping real tools. The result is a practice that sits where sustainability, spatial data, engineering and design meet. I read a city in layers, and the layers are not a metaphor: physical infrastructure (material and energy flows, the building stock, street and urban morphology), environmental factors (heat exposure, materials, biodiversity), and human behaviour (how people move, choose and gather, which I model with location analysis and gravity models). Holding those together, at the centre, is the relation between nature and society, because a map of a city is always, underneath, an argument about who and what it is for.
Government. At BCNecologia, Barcelona's urban ecology agency, I worked on the Social Superblocks model, which reorganises street space around residents instead of through-traffic.
Consultancy and research. At Metabolic in Amsterdam, splitting my time with London, and then from London with Metabolism of Cities in Belgium (2021 to 2023), I worked on urban circularity and material-flow analysis inside CENTRINNO, an H2020 project, and CityLoops, building interactive Sankey diagrams so that a city's metabolism, the materials moving through it, became something people could actually see and question.
Corporate. At TJX Europe (2023 to 2026) I led geospatial analysis for European markets. I built the cloud-native workflow on loyalty, footfall and demographics that automated site selection, catchment and cannibalisation analysis, turning a manual, slow process into a repeatable pipeline, and I presented that work at the Spatial Data Science Conference in London in 2025.
Founder and technical leadership. As CTO-designate at CommunityAI (2026 to now) I set technology strategy, data architecture and delivery for a small founding team, building systems that link public procurement to community value. Independently (2020 to 2023) I ran urban sustainability consulting on municipal energy and emissions, and contributed to the Urban Agenda for the Canary Islands.
For my Bartlett thesis, Shaping Cool Cities, I fused satellite imagery, three-dimensional building morphology, street networks and computer vision at 30-metre resolution across six European cities to map urban heat. The roles look varied, but they are one line of enquiry read from different chairs.
Alongside the analysis I keep a critical and radical cartographic practice, and I treat it as the same intelligence, not a hobby beside the work. It descends from a real tradition: the situationist dérive, and counter-mapping in the lineage of Denis Wood, who argued that every map is a proposition and never a neutral record. I walk with a camera, and I use ethnography, psychogeography and counter-cartography to interrogate my own methods, the projections, the categories, the data that was never collected. Upside Down World reworks the conventions of the map itself, inverting the orientation and hierarchy we treat as natural to ask why north sits on top and who that arrangement serves. Spatial Derive is a walking practice that records a route through camera and sound rather than coordinates. Invisible Borders looks at the lines we draw and inherit, and what they quietly enforce. This is where I let data sit next to emotion and intuition, and where I try to imagine grounded, fairer futures for cities rather than only describe the present. It is also where the technical work stays accountable to the people and the ecologies it claims to describe, because command of an instrument is what earns you the right to question it.
That instinct has civic roots. In Barcelona I organised around housing and campaigned on environmental issues, and I have carried out research for social movements. I keep that thread non-partisan and I keep it honest, but I do not hide it. No One Home grew directly out of it: a public instrument built with the London Renters Union that maps housing across 296 local authorities in England, so a national pattern becomes something anyone can open and read.
I build the instruments as well as the analysis. chrono.city, an archived prototype, ran entirely in the browser on Overture GeoParquet, DuckDB-WASM, PMTiles and MapLibre, so that heavy spatial data became something anyone could open in a tab. My working stack runs from Python, SQL, PostGIS, dbt and Snowflake through GeoParquet and DuckDB to TypeScript, React, Next.js, MapLibre and deck.gl. I care about the craft of the tool because the tool decides who gets to see the argument. I am at my best when a vague worry about heat, cost, emptiness or fairness needs to become something a team can see, measure and act on. That is the work, wherever it is commissioned from.
Innovation now asks four worlds to cooperate before a city can change: government, industry, academia and civil society. Most people are trained and paid inside one of them and stay there. I have held a real role in each, and beneath all four sits the environment, the discipline I started in. At BCNecologia I was an agency analyst; at TJX Europe I led geospatial analysis for European markets; at The Bartlett I was an Urban Spatial Science researcher; and with the London Renters Union I was the housing organiser who built No One Home. The value is not equal seniority in each; it is that I speak all four codes, so I can frame a model for the government that must regulate it, ship it for the industry that must act on it, and put it in the hands of the people it affects.
Five layers, brought into register.
The insight usually lives in how the layers sit against each other.
No single layer explains a city. I read a place the way you would read an atlas, one transparency at a time, then bring the layers into register, because the insight usually lives in how they sit against each other: heat against building form, footfall against who can afford to stay, material flows against the neighbourhoods that carry the cost. I work each layer with real data, then read them together. This is the legend.
- 01
Physical infrastructure
Material and energy flows, the building stock, and the morphology of streets and blocks. The city as a physical system with inputs, stocks and outputs.
- 02
Environmental factors
Heat exposure, use of materials, biodiversity. Where the city meets its climate, and where that pressure lands hardest.
- 03
Human and behavioural
Location analysis, customer and catchment analysis, gravity models. How people actually choose, move and gather, not how a plan assumes they will.
- 04
Nature and society
The relation that runs under all of it. Every layer above is also a question about who benefits, who pays and who the city is for. This is where I keep the map honest.
- 05
What the map leaves off
The critical layer: the counter-cartography, the walk with a camera, the framing and the omissions. The question that keeps the other four accountable.
What I am chasing, in research and in art.
The through-line is complexity, handled across disciplines, and emergence: what arises when the systems meet.
- Digital twins and simulation: city-scale digital twins when they are driven by a genuinely strong simulation engine, not a 3D model on a dashboard.
- Foundation models for research: how large models can leverage and accelerate fundamental research, not only automate tasks.
- Climate resilience and adaptation: modelling how cities absorb environmental pressure, and where adaptation should go first.
- The urban interplay: the coupling of physical infrastructure, environmental factors and human behaviour, held together rather than studied apart.
- Emergence and complex systems: the connections between disciplines and systems, and the new thing that appears when they meet.
- Culture, power and identity: the social layer that decides who a city is for, kept in view by the critical practice.
- Radical cartography and critical urbanism: re-drawing maps to expose the choices inside them.
- Situationism: the dérive and détournement, walking the city and turning its own images against it.
- Permacomputing: computing within ecological limits, doing more with less; the browser-native work I ship, which runs its analysis client-side with no server in the loop, is this in practice.
- Solarpunk: imagining just, ecological, collective urban futures instead of only critiquing the present.
- Anti-art and collaborative art: questioning the institution of art, and making work with people, not only for them.
- Space and emotion: the interplay between space and feeling, and between nature, technology and society.
I develop this practice with SFPC, the School for Poetic Computation, in its Disturbing Code session, and it reaches print as a risograph zine at mapzine.press.
I call this an operative atlas, and the word is chosen with care. The 1569 projection that still centres how most of us picture the world enlarges the north and shrinks the equator, a distortion my Upside Down World project sets out to question. It was drawn by Gerardus Mercator, the Flemish cartographer, who was also the first to use “Atlas” for a book of maps. I work inside that lineage and against it at once: I build maps that have to be reliable enough to decide by, and I keep asking what they distort, whom they place at the centre, and what they leave at the edges. Sharing his given name is a coincidence; the argument is not. The authority of a map is only worth having if you are willing to interrogate it.
What makes a place felt, not only mapped?
A map is an argument about what matters, and every map is also a set of silences. Alongside quantitative analysis I keep a critical and radical cartographic practice that treats representation itself as the object of enquiry, in the lineage of the situationist dérive and Denis Wood's counter-mapping, where a map is understood as a proposition rather than a neutral record. It stands on its own terms as art before it does anything for the analysis: counter-cartography, psychogeography, ethnography, walking with a camera, and work with sound, letting data sit next to emotion and intuition.
The practice does two things. First, it imagines speculative but grounded futures for cities under environmental pressure and asks who they would serve. Upside Down World, for instance, inverts the orientation and hierarchy of the conventional map to make the politics of north-on-top visible and to picture a differently centred world. Second, it interrogates the methods I use professionally, the projections, the categories, the data that was never collected, so the analysis stays accountable to the people and ecologies it describes.
Instruments in this practice include No One Home (housing across 296 local authorities, built with the London Renters Union), Spatial Derive (walking, camera, sound), Upside Down World (radical cartography) and Invisible Borders (the lines we draw and inherit). This is not decoration on top of the science; it is the same problem-solving intelligence read from another angle, and it is where technical command and critical conscience meet. I am open to research and art collaborations that take this seriously, and to grant-funded work at the edge of data, cities and ecology.
Rigour without false neutrality.
The toolkit changes with the question. The principles do not.
Specific beats general
I would rather show you six cities fused at 30 m, or 296 local authorities in one instrument, than tell you I am experienced. The numbers carry the claim.
Command the instrument, then question it
I build data systems at a senior level, and I use that fluency to interrogate the tools rather than trust them. Knowing exactly how a model is made is what lets me say honestly where it is blind, so the confidence in a result is earned, not assumed.
Make heavy data legible and actionable
A model that a team cannot see, question or act on is unfinished. I build browser-native instruments and clear visual arguments, from interactive Sankey diagrams to a keyless climate console, for the moment an uneasy hunch has to become a decision someone can defend.
Nature and society stay at the centre
Efficiency, cost and footfall are real, but they are not the whole brief. Whether the work comes from a council, a funder or a company, I keep asking who benefits and who pays, because that is what makes a city legible, not just measurable.