Drinkable rivers, swimmable cities – a new standard for urban water

“I did it. I did it.” It is August 2025, at the edge of Stockholm. A group of World Water Week delegates has just run into a lake. Among them is Waterproof podcast host Tracy Metz. Laughing and slightly breathless, she emerges from the water, happy of having taken the cold plunge.

The swim marks the first UN World Lakes Day. It is a celebration, but also a reminder. As Metz notes, “lakes everywhere are heavily polluted.” The question is no longer whether water quality is under pressure, but how communities choose to respond. Across continents, a growing movement is doing just that. They are reclaiming rivers and lakes not only as infrastructure to manage, but as public spaces to swim in and, ultimately, to drink from.

In the Waterproof podcast episode ‘Drinkable Rivers, Swimmable Cities’, produced by Partners for Water, Metz speaks with organisers, writers and artists who are rethinking our relationship with water – from urban swimming initiatives to legal recognition of rivers as living entities.

Swimming as a standard

In the run-up to the Paris 2024 Olympics, the Seine was cleaned so that athletes could compete in it. What once seemed unrealistic suddenly became visible: a capital city investing heavily to make a river safe for swimming. The Swimmable Cities platform emerged in the run-up to these Olympics.

“Just before the Olympics, we launched the Swimmable Cities Charter,” explains co-founder Matt Sykes. “It promotes communities’ right to swim, but also the rights of nature.”

Today, more than 150 organisations across 80 cities have signed the charter. For Sykes, swimming is more than just a hobby or sport, it is also a political signal. If people can safely enter the water, then wastewater systems, monitoring and governance must be functioning.

At a time of polarised climate debates, he argues that water offers common ground. “This practice of swimming and connection to waterways is able to cross political divides. We see this in different cities around the world,” he says. “As our traditional knowledge carers teach us, water connects us all. It’s our lifeblood.”

From swimmable to drinkable

For Li An Phoa, founder of Drinkable Rivers, the ambition goes further. She walked the entire 370 kilometres of the Scheldt, joined by 1,300 people and hundreds of children conducting citizen science. The aim was not symbolic protest but collective ownership.

During the walk, local leaders drafted a River Intent declaration stating that all those who live, work and use the Scheldt river basin express a shared dream of a drinkable Scheldt. Two municipalities have since signed. It signals the start of a concrete shift from aspiration to policy.

Phoa’s philosophy is direct and pragmatic: “Don’t wait for a mandate. Your care, your love for your place can have a tremendous impact.”

Why swimmable and drinkable matter

Part of the strength of these movements lies in the clarity of their ambition. “Swimmable” and “drinkable” are not abstract policy terms. They are standards that anyone can understand. Either you can safely enter the water, or you cannot. Either you can drink it, or you cannot.

By framing water management in these terms, complex discussions about treatment plants, discharge permits and monitoring data become tangible. A swimmable river signals that systems are functioning. A drinkable river signals a higher level of trust – in regulation, enforcement and long-term commitment.

Rethinking the status of rivers

Another strand of this movement comes from writer Robert MacFarlane. He does not call himself an activist, but a campaigner and a writer. In his book Is a River Alive?, MacFarlane explores how we think about rivers in law, language and culture.

“We are quite content that corporations have rights,” he observes. “But a river who’s flowed for 10,000 years? No, absolutely not.”

In England and Wales, he notes, “not a single river is in good overall health, 0% in good chemical health.” The ecological crisis is evident, yet so is resistance. “Hope is a discipline,” Macfarlane says. “It arises from the hard, organised work of change making.”

That disciplined work takes many forms. In The Hague, the Embassy of the North Sea explores what it would mean to recognise a sea as a political actor. Its goal, says sound artist Harpo ’t Hart, is that “the North Sea would eventually become its own political person. With its own interests and its own rights.”

Beyond infrastructure

What connects these initiatives is a shared shift in perspective. Rivers and seas are no longer treated solely as channels to manage or resources to optimise. They are public spaces to enter, ecosystems to restore, and – increasingly – entities whose interests must be represented.

Clean water is the result of public engagement, political consistency and legal imagination. As Metz reflects, the people driving this work “are not politicians or officials. They’re people like you and me who feel that they need to do something.”

In a world facing intensifying water challenges, the ambition for swimmable cities and drinkable rivers reflects a broader question: how do we choose to live with water – and who speaks on its behalf?

💬 What do you think: should swimmable or drinkable standards become clearer benchmarks in urban water policy?

🎧 This article is based on the Waterproof podcast episode ‘Drinkable Rivers, Swimmable Cities’, produced by Partners for Water. Listen to the podcast here.