Home as a Trench: The ‘Nail Houses’ That Resisted Urban Expansion in China

Imagine a modest house, two or three stories tall, surrounded by towering apartment blocks—something straight out of Pixar’s Up. But this isn’t fiction. These homes exist, defiantly standing in the path of concrete and cranes.

Nail houses or holdouts are a global phenomenon, but in China, some of the most striking cases have become symbols of grassroots resistance.

Dīngzihù. The Chinese word dīngzihù translates directly to “nail household”—dīngzi means “nail,” and hù means “household.” It describes families that refuse to vacate their homes for demolition. As urban development accelerated, local governments and real estate developers offered compensation to residents to make way for new projects. Some refused, often for personal, cultural, and economic reasons. These holdouts became lone structures in construction zones, surrounded by excavators and half-built high-rises.

The phenomenon is fairly new in China. Private homeownership wasn’t widespread until the early 2000s. In 2007, the country passed its first modern private property law, which limited forced expropriations and gave homeowners stronger legal rights. From that point, demolishing a home required proving the new project served the public interest. That change empowered many residents to resist relocation.

Wu Ping’s stand. Some of these resistance stories went viral—both for their striking visuals and deeply personal backstories. Perhaps the most famous example is that of Wu Ping and Yang Wu in Chongqing in 2004. The couple refused to sell their home to make room for a shopping mall.

Every other property in their neighborhood—280 in total—was demolished. But their house stood alone atop a hill, surrounded by a deep construction pit. “I’m not stubborn or unruly,” Ping said. “I'm just trying to protect my personal rights as a citizen. I will continue to the end,” she added.

Their family had lived in the house for three generations. Developers tried to force them out by cutting off water and electricity and digging a moat around the property. Yang, a local martial arts master, fashioned a ladder using nunchucks and threatened to fight off anyone who tried to evict them. He even raised a Chinese flag on the rooftop.

After a lengthy legal and media battle, the couple reached a multimillion-dollar settlement and were given a downtown apartment equal in size to their old home. Eventually, the house was demolished—but not before becoming an icon of Chinese resistance.

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Other famous holdouts. Wu’s case may be the most photogenic, but it’s far from unique. In Nanning, one tiny home was left standing in the middle of a wide avenue, forming a roundabout for traffic. The owners eventually agreed to compensation, but not before their house made global headlines.

In Zhejiang in 2012, a five-story house stood alone in the middle of a newly built highway. The owners were one of 451 families in the area, and they refused to move, saying the original offer wasn’t enough to buy a comparable property. Eventually, they were compensated with both money and land.

Whether they ultimately gave in or not, these “nail houses” became powerful symbols—fighting to preserve personal heritage and individual rights amid China’s breakneck modernization.

Edith Macefield, America’s nail house icon. But China isn’t the only country with such stories. One of the best-known “nail houses” in the U.S. belonged to Edith Macefield of Seattle. In 2006, developers offered her $1 million and free lifetime care to vacate her home so they could build a shopping center. Macefield refused. At 84 years old, she said she was too old to move—and didn’t want to.

Unlike in China, where tensions sometimes escalated, the developers simply built around her home. Her house remained surrounded on three sides by five-story concrete walls until her death in 2008. It still stands today as a quiet monument to her refusal. And if the story sounds familiar—it should. Her house inspired Pixar’s Up.

There are other U.S. examples too. In Charlotte, North Carolina, the Thirsty Beaver bar opened in 2008 in a vacant lot. By 2015, it was the only building left after refusing to sell, surrounded by a massive apartment complex—and still serving drinks today.

Pop culture and protest. Pixar’s Up may be the most famous nail house story, complete with balloons and grumpy heroism. But other examples echo this narrative. In The Emperor’s New Groove, Emperor Kuzco wants to raze a village for an amusement park. In Shrek, Lord Farquaad tries to evict the ogre from his swamp.

So next time you spot a house that looks wildly out of place amid shiny new buildings, take a second look. It may be a “nail house”—and a powerful reminder of what it means to stand your ground.

They’re the last nails refusing to bend under the hammer of progress.

Images | triplefivedrew | zola aka. Zhou Shuguang (周曙光) | George N | Payton Chung | Paul Sableman | Arlin ffrench

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