Pro Bono Publico

Recently I had the opportunity to be involved in a pro bono project for the charity Tong-Len. Their mission is to assist displaced communities in the Kangra Valley in north India to achieve a secure and sustainable future through a range of educational and health-based projects. Initially I was asked provide a sketch design for a hostel building accommodating more than 60 children who come from a local slum camp in Dharamsala. It quickly became apparent that the local ‘architect-engineer’ employed to progress the project was in fact the contractor and that further architectural services would be required. My partner in practice, Ryan Strating, became involved and for the last three years we have seen the project through to its completion and its inauguration by His Holiness the Dalai Lama last month.


In this editorial I would like to unpack some of my dilemmas around my experience of undertaking pro bono work, particularly within an intercultural context. This was prompted by a recent study into ethical agency and communication within community development and pro bono work by two final year students at the University of Tasmania.[1] One of the students interviewed me for my reactions to a range of provocations, two of which were particularly confronting:

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Aging at ‘home’

Aged care housing is not the most glamorous topic. Images of chintz curtains, floral upholstery and the smell of boiling cabbages readily come to mind. Of course this image is stereotypical. Nonetheless it is enduring. Although there are a handful of examples of innovations in aged care housing (most notably in Europe – see Figures 1 and 2), this is an area that is going to demand a great deal more focused effort, research and architectural ingenuity over the next few years.

Figure 1: Indre Havn Nursing Home, Norway – exterior (Roger Fay)

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Future Gazing in the Context of Climate Change

This editorial emerges out of a recent conversation between several Architects for Peace members on the topic of the Australian 2010 Venice Biennale proposal ‘Now and When’. For the ‘When’ component, creative directors Ivan Rijavec and John Gollings sought expressions of interest for ‘the design of a future Australian city 2050 +’ (1). Successful entries are to be exhibited in the form of a projected image at the Australian Pavilion. Unfortunately due to time constraints we were unable to pull together a submission on behalf of Architects for Peace; however, the email conversation resulted in some interesting ideas that are worth unpacking here.

Perhaps the most interesting thing about imagining the future is that it forces us to critically question our current condition. For me, the future is a somewhat intangible and elusive construct that necessitates looking back, as much as looking forward. Looking back 40 years, rather than forwards, we can gain some interesting insights. One of the most significant events of 1969 was the first landing on the moon by Neil Armstrong and the Apollo 11 team. Millions of people sat glued to their television sets to witness this momentous occasion, which appeared to herald a future ‘space age’. Science fiction continues to imagine this ‘other worldly’ future, and yet 40 years on, our feet are still firmly grounded on this planet earth.

A second, and less well-known, event from this year was the transmission of the first data over the ARPANet (The Advanced Research Projects Agency Network), the forerunner of the modern day Internet. Although this event did not excite the popular imagination in the same way as the ‘space race’, today it is hard to conceive of our world without the Internet. It has transformed the way that we live and work and (at least for a younger generation) it continues to redefine our social interactions (for better or worse).

To return to the present and its projection into the future, how do we know what events and technologies will be significant? Are we focussing on certain, more visible, issues at the expense of more fundamental concerns (the quintessential missing the wood for the trees argument)?

In particular, I am concerned that we have a tendency to focus on objects (specifically technological objects) rather than processes, social conditions and politics. To cite two other milestone ‘events’ from 1969 - female workers at the Ford Motor Company won their demand for equal pay and trouser suits became acceptable everyday wear for women. Somewhat laughable now, but it seems absurd that as a society we had the vision, will and technological know-how to launch ourselves into outer space and yet were only beginning to skim the surface of the injustices within our own world. Reflecting again on the situation today, I don’t think it has improved much, and arguably it is even worse …

It would seem that ‘seeing’ the present is as important as and necessary for imagining the future. The two are of course interconnected. Climate science informs us that to a greater or lesser extent, the future of global warming is already written. As a recent report from the Australian Government states:

“There is little doubt that Australia will face some degree of climate change over the next 30 to 50 years irrespective of global or local efforts to reduce greenhouse emissions. The scale of that change, and the way it will be manifested in different regions is less certain ….” (2)

Predictions vary, but moderate estimates suggest a likely scenario of a 0.4 - 2 degree Celsius global temperature rise by 2030 and a 1.0 - 6.0 degree Celsius rise by 2070 coupled with an 18-59cm sea level rise by the end of the century (3). Only a handful of climate sceptics will fail to recognise that the extreme climatic events – hurricanes, droughts, bushfires, floods, hailstorms – that we are experiencing are current indicators of a changing climate. Yet we appear to have our collective head in the sand and there remains widespread distrust of the future climate projections.

Of course many predictions have proved ‘false’ (notably the doomsday scenarios of the 1970s) but in other cases the inaccuracies have swung the other way with actual impacts far exceeding expectations. For example, a 2005 Victorian government study predicted a decline in water supply in the range of 3 – 11 per cent, whereas in the 3 years following the report, water supply dropped almost 50 per cent below average. More recently, in October 2009, the NSW Government released a Sea Level Rise Policy Statement based on ‘worst case’ predictions of a 90cm sea level rise by 2100 which has received fierce criticism from the property development sector (4). It seems Governments will be dammed if they do, and dammed if they don’t.

Even accepting these future climate predictions, there is continued controversy over the appropriate response in the here and now – should we be focussing on climate mitigation or climate adaptation? According to the IPCC 2001 Assessment report, both are required; however the two approaches can lead us down different paths. In the context of urban design, the adaptation argument has challenged the dominant sustainability imperative of urban densification. This point was illustrated in the recent memo from the Australian Institute of Architects National President, Melinda Dodson, citing the views of CSIRO analyst Dr Graham Turner, who states “denser cities may marginally ease environmental pressures, but potentially be more susceptible to impacts”. (5)

Turner argues that less compact urban forms are more resilient since they support local self-sufficiency. I can see his point, but then again gazing into the future, this could be both productive and destructive. On the one hand, it supports a communal social ideal of divesting control from the few to the masses, but on the other it could reinforce the culture of individualism manifest in the home as defensive castle. Of course these are utopian and dystopic projections of the same scenario and neither ‘extreme’ is likely to emerge. While supporting the notion of resilience, I remain cautious of this position and have long had similar doubts about the promotion of autonomy as a sustainability objective (at the scale of the privatised block rather than the community). Evidently for me, the dystopic lens on this scenario is more focussed and I see fences (both ‘real’ and socially constructed) rising around individual properties, gated communities and national boundaries supporting a ‘fortress Australia’ mentality. Nevertheless, I do think it is worthwhile questioning entrenched views, including the dominant sustainability imperative towards densification. Interestingly, the Biennale expression of interest document assumes densification as inevitable by asking how, not if, our sprawl will be densified. (6)

The utopian and dystopic perspectives, while extreme, are useful devices to challenge our current assumptions. Much of our Arch-peace Biennale conversation focussed on the tension between the dark/likely versus the bright/unlikely futures. Generally we agreed that the focus of Arch-peace should be positive, inspiring action rather than instilling fear. Utopias are powerful forms of counter discourse that can be seen as ‘agents of change’ (7). As Beatriz Maturana noted, the issue of change (rather than adaptation) is a key issue that is commonly overlooked, sidestepped or ignored in the search for quick-fix solutions to sustainability ‘problems’. (8)

Nevertheless, the representation of these affirmative alternative visions is problematic. Utopias are widely dismissed as naïve, universalising narratives. A more moderate position of ‘ambiguous utopia’ has been advanced by Levitas, who conceives it as a fragmentary and inconclusive critique of the present (9). This has parallels with Tony Fry’s concept of ‘defuturing’ as a process of imagining but not predicting the future, of change but without certainty (10). Alternatively, as Arch-peace member Darko Radovic suggested, a dialectical approach may be required involving “sketching the extremes between which we trace the actual development ‘path’.” (11). Rather than a super highway between present and future, the path(s) can be seen as tenuous tracks that lead in multiple, surprising and often contradictory directions towards uncertain futures.

It is possible to imagine the communication of these ambiguous utopias or dialectical sketches as a form of narrative (I am reminded of Calvino’s seminal ‘Invisible Cities’ here). However, the articulation of such complex ideas in the confines of the Biennale submission, which must be (primarily) contained within one (punchy) graphic image, is more difficult. There is an interesting resonance between these intangible and fragmentary ‘projections’ of the future and their re-presentation as digital ‘projections’ in the Australian Biennale Pavilion. Furthermore, an image can speak a thousand words, or so they say. Nevertheless, it remains to be seen what ‘thousand words’ the selected images will speak … I look forward to seeing the successful entries.


Acknowledgements
I would like to thank the following Architects for Peace members for their contribution to the lively discussion on the Biennale submission: Beatriz Maturana, Darko Radovic, Sidh Sintusingha, Ian Woodcock and Kamil Muhammad. Although the views represented in this editorial are my own and I do not purport to speak for the other members, their insights have been invaluable in the writing of this piece. It has not been possible to cover the full range of issues discussed in our email conversation and I apologise if I have in any way misrepresented or omitted information that others feel is important.


References
(1) ‘Now and When: Australian Urbanism’ Expression of Interest for the Australian Exhibition 2010 Venice Architecture Biennale. See www.architecture.com.au/nowandwhen
(2) ‘Climate Change Risk and Vulnerability: Promoting an efficient adaptation response in Australia’ Final Report for the Australian Government, Department of the Environment and Heritage, Australian Greenhouse Office,,March 2005, Allen Consulting Group, p.vii.
(3) ibid.
(4) NSW Sea Level Rise Policy Statement, Deputy Premer and Minister for Environment and Climate Change, Carmel Tebbutt and Minister for Planning, Kristina Keneally, October 2009.
(5) ‘Sustainability Challenges and Urban Development’ by Melinda Dodson, in Memo, Newsletter of the Australian Institute of Architects, September 2009.
(6) Now and When: Australian Urbanism.
(7) Levitas, R. (1993) 'The Future of Thinking about the Future' in Bird, J., Curtis, B., Putnam, T., Robertson, G. and Tickner, L. (eds.) Mapping the Futures. London: Routledge, p.257.
(8) This point is exemplified the Metropolis ‘Next Generation 2010’ competition for ‘One Design Fix’. See http://www.metropolismag.com/nextgen
(9) Levitas, 'The Future of Thinking about the Future'
(10) Fry, T. (1999) A New Design Philosophy: An introduction to defuturing. Sydney: UNSW Press.
(11) Personal communication.

Ceridwen Owen
Architects for Peace, December 2009

Shifting Focus: perceptions of place in a climate of change

Notwithstanding the occasional mockery from the far left field of the scientific community, we no longer have to endure questions over the reality of human-driven changes to the global climate. The scientific proof is irrefutable and debate among the natural scientists primarily concerns the temporal and physical scale of the impending environmental impacts. What are less certain, however, are the social changes that will occur in response to these impacts. The relationship between global warming and social change is an issue raised by the sociologist Elizabeth Shove from Lancaster University . The question is how and to what extent our habits, or our ritualised and generally unquestioned actions, can be challenged. For Elizabeth Shove these habits are described as a product of our physical environment, and thus the limits imposed by our built infrastructure in turn limit the potential to alter certain habitual practices. One obvious example is the problem that the proliferation of suburban sprawl presents to the habitual practice of private motorised transport.

Of course our physical environment is similarly a product of our cultural habits and collective ideals and thus the potential for altered habits exists not only by reimagining practices within these physical boundaries, but by reimagining the boundaries themselves, and it is here that the architectural imagination takes flight.

As Beatriz Maturana argued in last month’s editorial, the devastating circumstances of the recent bushfires in Victoria present one such ‘sombre opportunity’ to reimagine the morphology of communities on the suburban fringe. The quarter acre block with detached dwelling, double garage and hills hoist represents the quintessential ‘Australian dream’. However, this is a product of the 1950s and more recently it might be argued that the bush block, replete with facilities for a more autonomous existence, is equally if not more desirable. The perpetuation of scattered dwellings amongst a relatively visually untrammelled bush must now be called into question as a consequence of the recent bushfires. There are other, potentially more sustainable international models that we can look to as Beatriz describes in her editorial. These may well support more sustainable habits such as concentrated collective rather than individualised efforts to protect property and lives should a similar bushfire threat present itself. The question is, however, whether current habitualised practices and cultural expectations will permit the reimagination of the urban fringe along radically different lines.

In my own research, I have been looking at the possibility of reimagining the design of infrastructure in natural settings in a very different context. I have been exploring the relationship between architecture and perceptions of place in ecotourism destinations. In particular I aim to challenge the prevalent ‘minimal impact’ approach to building in pristine nature settings. This is driven by the dominant perception of sustainability where nature is viewed as a privileged ‘other’ untouched by humans, or at least by industrialised society. Regenerative design offers an alternative perspective by shifting the frame of reference from minimal to positive impact and questioning the separation of ‘humans’ and ‘nature’. I have written about regenerative design in a previous editorial; however here I would like to briefly discuss a recent research project that explored this issue in relation to the design and construction of built infrastructure on the Overland Track in Tasmania.

The Overland Track is Tasmania’s most iconic and popular walking track, attracting approximately 8,800 walkers annually. The length and popularity of the walk has seen the construction of a large quantity of infrastructure to support the tourist experience and to limit damage to the natural environment. Most significant built interventions are established at five key overnight nodes where huts, tent platforms and toilet facilities are provided for visitors. In addition, all waste, including toilet waste, is flown out by helicopter. Other forms of infrastructure along the Overland Track include various forms of track construction such as timber and stone steps, walkways in local and imported timber, treated pine boardwalks, hardened track junctions, raised earth causeways and a variety of bridges from simple bush timber logs to steel suspension bridges. Limited signage and track markers are also located along the route. Much of the track infrastructure has been implemented in a haphazard fashion and is deemed ‘unsympathetic’ to the environmental context.

The research investigated visitors and rangers’ perceptions of these built interventions by inviting a small sample group to document their perceptions using a disposable camera and journal. They were advised that built interventions could include examples of any type or scale that they liked or disliked or that they thought promoted either a connection or a disconnection with the environment.

The track represents perhaps the most direct relationship with built infrastructure on the walk, engaging the visual as well as acoustic and tactile senses. The varied and uneven surfaces draw the focus of attention from the ‘world out there’ to a more immediate and extremely localised frame of reference. This intimate ‘scale’ of experience provoked a range of comments from participants, from recognising the love, care and ‘artistic’ personality that has been put into the design and construction of the track, to an awareness of water flows, weather patterns, the impact of human occupation, the power and omnipotence of nature and the relationship between body and space. Primarily these experiences were positive, promoting a stronger connection with the environment. However, there were also instances of disconnection, for example the connotation of highways through the use of bitumen-coated planks and the raised boardwalks that construct a direct physical separation from the landscape. These features prompted a mixed response from walkers, representing a conflict between a desire for safety and convenience versus a desire for adventure, as well as a desire for minimum intervention and a simultaneous recognition of the need for intervention to maintain the bushwalkers code of minimal impact.

A similar ambivalence featured in discussions surrounding the toilets, which are one of the more iconic and recognisable built features on the track. These are raised composting toilet structures, similar to those found in many National Parks in Australia. As a low-tech and familiar sustainable technology, these are seen as being appropriate in remote environments. However, the plastic ‘sputnik’ containers, which are used to remove the liquid waste by helicopter, are more confronting, presenting a tangible image of the otherwise generally invisible consequences of human occupation in this sensitive environment (figure 1).

Nevertheless, one of the key findings of the research was that it was the more assertive human interventions, such as the ‘sputniks’ and the track ‘highways’, that prompted the most reflexive engagement with place. These images do not necessarily provoke a negative response, but reveal complexities and ambiguities over the extent to which intervention is seen as necessary and desirable and the value of social versus environmental priorities. Furthermore, ‘alien technologies’ such as the ranger’s ‘escape pod’ have the potential to reinforce the notion of the ‘wilderness experience’ by drawing attention to the reality of the remoteness and reinforcing images of isolation and unfamiliar worlds ‘out there’ (figure 2).

This research reveals the power of the built environment in the construction of meaning of place and identity. I believe it supports the development of an architectural response to the design of infrastructure in wilderness locations that is more assertive and moves beyond the notion of minimal impact. More broadly, I think the research demonstrates how the design of built infrastructure that does not necessarily ‘fit’ with preconceived notions of place facilitates a more reflexive dialogue and opens up the possibility for imagining other cultural habits. While the research context is a long way both physically and conceptually, from the circumstances of the Victorian communities affected by the recent bushfires, it is here that I think certain tentative relationships can be drawn. The image of timber-sheathed dwellings nestling amongst the gum trees in relative visual isolation is a powerful one and one that will not easily be transformed. However, ultimately I hope that the kind of macro-scale changes that Beatriz outlined in last month’s editorial will be seen as a positive, regenerative response to place rather than as a compromise to existing, unsustainable cultural habits.

Ceridwen Owen
Architects for Peace, March 2009

Too little, too late?

I recently attended the Sustainable Building 08 conference in Melbourne. This is an international conference held every 3 years that brings together leading thinkers in sustainability in all aspects of design, planning and construction. The conference opened with the ubiquitous addresses from local politicians, the first from Federal Environment Minister Peter Garrett and the second from State Environment Minister Gavin Jennings. I have to confess to drifting off during both presentations, distracted by the book of abstracts and the goodies that the conference had to offer; but suffice to say the speeches contained the usual rhetoric, waxing lyrical about the various achievements and future initiatives of both Federal and State Governments. Both Ministers were quick to exit the building following their address and so missed the final opening keynote presentation from Bill Rees (of ‘Our Ecological Footprint’ fame). It was at this point that the mood of the conference drastically changed. The optimistic cheer of the politicians was replaced by a depressingly frank description of the current state of the environment: by 2015 half of all housing stock in China will have been built since 2000; floor space per capita has increased by more than 300% over the last 50 years in the United States; human enterprise exceeds global carrying capacity by 25-30%; we need to reduce ecological footprints by 80% in the developed world for an ‘equitable earth share’…. These ‘facts’ came as no surprise to the educated audience, but strung together they presented a bleak state of affairs. More worryingly, however, was the underlying message that permeated Bill Rees’s presentation and many others at the conference – that we have done too little too late. It seems that the pace of environmental degradation is outstripping even the estimations of the most conservative of scientific models. The question is not whether and how we can avert the devastating consequences of climate change, but rather whether and how we choose to manage the inevitable social and environmental crises that will result from the vast quantities of greenhouse gases that we have already pumped into the atmosphere. How and where should we accommodate climatic refugees? How should we choose to direct economic recession? How shall we reorganise our urban centres to cope with the impending sea level rises and increased temperatures? Bill Rees concluded that efficiency is not the answer and can only ever lead to what he termed ‘quasi sustainability’. In fact, he argued that if anything efficiency is making things worse - the more efficient we become, the more we consume and the really ‘inconvenient truth’ is that we must give up on material growth. This is not a picture that the world’s politicians are ready to hear and the message would doubtless have fallen on deaf ears had the Ministers elected to stay to the end of the session. Personally I have mixed feelings about these ‘truths’. I firmly believe that efficiency is not the answer and can lead us to some highly dubious outcomes (maybe the ‘eco-hummer’ will one day make an appearance?). This might be the way the world is heading and it is easy to give up hope in the face of such overwhelming statistics of consumption despite growing awareness of global environmental issues. Nevertheless, I’m not quite ready to batten down the hatches and settle in to weather the global environmental storm. We have doubtless done too little, and it may be too late, but I have to remain optimistic (after all I have recently brought two children into this world). As a member of the audience of the converted at the conference, the doomsday messages just left me feeling flat. While they weren’t all doom and gloom, I was left wondering whether the next generation of sustainability thinkers would be inspired and spurred into action as I was almost 15 years ago when I attended my first sustainability conference. Most of the leading sustainability thinkers at the conference came into this field thinking that they could make a difference. I hope we can present a bright enough picture so that the next generation feel they can too.

Ceridwen Owen
Architects for Peace, October 2008

From Urban Acupuncture to the Megapolis

For some time I have been interested in the notion of ‘urban acupuncture’. To my knowledge there is no specific body of literature that defines this concept. It is a term that I first heard used at a conference concerning a design approach for a project in India and I regret to say that I have now forgotten the name of the presenter and the details of project. A few years later I find myself returning to this concept in both my practice and teaching in relation to the design of urban environments. My simple definition of urban acupuncture is a design approach that proposes minimum intervention for maximum gain and focuses on connections and settings of social interaction rather than objects. For me it is very much grounded in earlier seminal works such as Rowe and Koetter’s (1978) ‘Collage City’ and Christopher Alexander’s (1975) ‘The Oregon Experiment’.

Rowe and Koetter position themselves in opposition to the grand vision of the ‘master plan’ arguing, “total design can only mean total control” (1978:283). They believe that a ‘final’ and ‘complete’ solution cannot be identified; everything is conjecture, a hypothesis based on particular value judgments and the available ‘facts’ to hand. The danger is that grand utopian visions of urban planning are presented as value-neutral and ‘true’. They suggest that there is never ‘sufficient information’ available to construct an ideal formulation of the future, but we must still act. Our best course of action is to approach urban design as a form of ‘bricolage’ or the recycling of meanings and forms through multiple and diverse means. Urban design thus requires imperfect and incomplete visions created from within rather than grand visions transplanted from without.

Christopher Alexander also argues that urban design should be conceived as a slow process of evolutionary change rather than as a totalitarian ‘quick fix’. In the ‘Oregon Experiment’ he sets out a series of six principles that comprise a generic approach to urban design as a series of ‘local acts’ based on ‘patterns’ derived from participatory design. The implementation of the design is focussed on principles of ‘piecemeal growth’ and ‘coordination’ combined with a process of ‘diagnosis’ in which the health of the built environment is continually assessed on an annual basis.

Urban acupuncture adopts a similar premise. It seeks out the ‘diseased’ places of high urban capacity and inserts catalytic ‘needles’ to stimulate (not dictate) the development of diverse activity. Teddy Cruz, an architect working in the border towns of San Diego and Tijuana employs the concept in his work to create hybrid programs of community housing and services in under-utilised and leftover pockets of the city. As he describes it, “The goal has been to achieve maximum effect with minimal gestures, to take existing patterns of use as a point of departure, and to develop urban solutions with enough persuasive force to change obsolete planning policy and zoning regulations” (Cruz 2005). One of his projects, ‘Living Rooms at the Border’ for Casa Familiar, a local advocacy group, integrates 12 flexible affordable housing units, a community centre and offices, a productive garden and shared communal space. On a site originally zoned for three housing units, Cruz has negotiated the increased density by framing it as ‘social choreography’ rather than ‘bulk’.

Perhaps the most well known exponent of the concept of urban acupuncture, however, is Jaime Lerner, ex mayor of Curitiba in Brazil. For Lerner, the focus of urban acupuncture is on small-scale interventions that can be undertaken within short time frames, producing an immediate and catalytic effect. Under his leadership, Curitiba saw the implementation of a series of highly successful social, educative and urban infrastructure initiatives, many of which have inspired further initiatives in other cities.

At a recent conference in Melbourne, Eco-Edge 2, the former mayor of Bogota in Columbia, Enrique Penalosa, spoke passionately about the transformation of his city through the implementation of initiatives such as the ‘Transmilenio’ bus service based on the Curitiba model, pedestrian streets and urban greenways. At the same conference a series of speakers discussed the urban transformation of China where the Government plans to construct 400 new cities by 2020. The scale of this urbanisation is unprecedented. As Neville Mars, Director of the Dynamic City Foundation in Beijing, noted, it is equivalent to the construction of Europe within 20 years.

In this context, what models of urban design are appropriate? Do principles of evolution, local acts, piecemeal growth and diagnosis have any place in such situations? Frankly, this physical and temporal scale of urbanisation terrifies me. I have no answers, and yet immediate consideration of this issue seems paramount. The consequences for global sustainability are potentially enormous. Indeed, in answer to the question ‘what is the biggest contribution Australia can make to sustainability?’ posed in a discussion session on Government initiatives at the conference, Peter Davidson of LAB Architects simply stated ‘help China’.

Many of the architects and urban designers speaking at the conference proposed alternatives to the mono-functional thinking and urban sprawl that seems to underpin much of the urbanisation in China. Xuemei Bai, Senior Scientist at CSIRO Sustainable Ecosystems, also noted how the wide-reaching control and influence of the Chinese Government can quickly be turned towards more sustainable practices in a way that is inconceivable in Australia. The interest in environmental initiatives certainly exists as demonstrated by the proposed construction of the world’s first ‘eco-city’ with a zero emission target on an island offshore from Shanghai. Nevertheless, I think the complexities of social sustainability in the city will be harder to come to terms with. As Neville Mars noted, the physical transformation in China is a consequence of an equally fast-paced cultural shift from the ‘collective dream’ of communism to the ‘scattered dream’ of the market. The dreams have barely had time to take root in the mind before they are becoming a physical reality.

Maybe the slow evolutionary process of transformation of these urban environments will take place as the dust begins to settle and the megapolis has been constructed and occupied. New patterns of social networks and spatial practices will emerge and the city will adapt and be adapted to accommodate them. Whether the modern ‘planned’ city is flexible enough to adjust to these shifts is more questionable. Furthermore, the constructed urban fabric will inevitably influence this process of social transformation since both places and people exist in a state of dialectical tension. It seems therefore that some tentative, imperfect and incomplete visions need to be put on the table now.


References

Alexander, C. (1975) The Oregon Experiment, New York, Oxford University Press

Cruz, T. (2005) “Urban acupuncture: a San Diego firm sees new possibilities for healing the housing crisis”, Residential Architect, Jan-Feb 2005. Viewed 05/04/08 at http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m0NTE/is_1_9/ai_n15956823

Rowe, C. & Koetter, F. (1978) Collage City, Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press


Ceridwen Owen

Architects for Peace, April 2008

Regenerative Design

Several months ago I wrote an editorial titled ‘Just Sustainability’ that discussed the emerging social imperative within sustainability discourse. In a similar vein, in this editorial I would like to explore another area of concern that is gaining increasing momentum. ‘Regenerative design’ is founded on the contention that sustainability is insufficient to address the scope and urgency of our current planetary crisis. Sustainability is not tantamount to efficiency. However, the use, misuse and consequent renegotiation of this term has resulted in a reduction of its potency. In particular, its connection with the conceptually divergent goals of economic growth and production under the popularised Brundtland definition of ‘sustainable development’ has led to scepticism of the value and meaning of this term. Furthermore, the framework of minimising impacts, or perhaps even more problematically offsetting impacts, is seen as both ineffective and presumptuous since it continues to grant indulgences on behalf of the planet.

A variety of terms, including regeneration, resilience and symbiosis, have emerged to challenge the perceived inadequacies and stasis inherent in the concept of sustainability. This is not a particularly new approach. William McDonough has been championing this approach for well over a decade. In his 1998 article ‘Declaration of Interdependence’ he describes sustainability as a ‘shibboleth’ arguing that it is pointless trying to do a bad thing better.[1] Janis Birkeland echoes this concern in her critique of building environmental rating systems when she argues, “If we labelled cigarettes the way we label buildings, people might smoke more ‘lite’ cigarettes to improve their health.”[2]

Birkeland is attempting to lift the bar even higher than McDonough’s popularised ‘Cradle to Cradle’ approach. She contends that the abolishment of the concept of ‘waste’ through closed loop cycles does not go far enough and what is required is a reverse linear system in which ‘wastes’ become resources. Scientists may dismiss such assertions as naïve, with the mighty weight of the second law of thermodynamics to bolster their resolve. However, I think the point raised by Birkeland and other proponents of a regenerative approach to design is not so much the application of intentions and their end results, but rather the framework within which those intentions are conceived. The shift in thinking from sustainable to regenerative design is subtle, yet significant. To appease the scientists, we might cite Einstein’s well-known insight that we can’t use the same thinking that got us into the problem in the first place.

So what is ‘regenerative design’? There is no definitive answer or universally agreed definition. As with ‘sustainability’, regenerative design is a contested concept with a common horizon of intent underpinned by a diversity of meanings and applications. From my own perspective, regenerative design diverges from sustainability in three key ways. Firstly, it shifts the frame of reference from minimal to positive impact. Secondly, it questions human/environment relations based on the Cartesian separation of subject and object. Thirdly it attempts to reconnect environmentalism with a socio-political dimension, which has been lacking in much sustainability discourse.

It is perhaps only the first of these three points of difference that is universally shared amongst all proponents of regenerative design. The premise is simple – that our actions should result in net benefits to our ecological and social environments. The application is more complicated, but it is based on what Bill Reed has described as building capacity rather than things. It requires us to think along Isaiah Berlin’s terms as foxes rather than hedgehogs; the latter being an endearing, but nonetheless critical term for the single-minded thinking typical of much urban planning.

Regenerative design looks for inspiration in the complexity and symbiosis of nature. However, it is necessarily more than biomimicry. Herein lays the second point of difference to sustainability in which regenerative design attempts to reconcile the historically constructed division between humans and nature. It is interesting to contemplate that the word ‘nature’ can have such multiple meanings that extend from our intrinsic characteristics and our relationships towards things to a concept that is premised on our very separation from the ‘natural’ world.

Many proponents of regenerative design invoke an ethic of care and a connection with the spirit of place as a necessary condition to challenge our current position. Not everyone is comfortable with embracing this perspective for fear of being labelled a new age hippy and dismissed as ‘flaky eco-la-la’, to use Murray Bookchin’s condemning term. But then again, the dominant mechanistic and reductionist attitude towards our world is something that regenerative design seeks to challenge. Of course, much of this thinking has aided the environmental movement by providing scientific ‘proof’ of planetary changes such as global warming. However, sometimes I am shocked by the extension of this attitude to the way we act in the world. If the Great Climate Change Swindle that was aired recently on national television wasn’t bad enough, the ensuing debate in which an Australian scientist dismissed the entire precautionary principle on the basis of our inability to adequately and accurately determine risk was astounding.

However, there are so many things for which science cannot account. In particular, the socio-political dimension, which is the focus of the third point of difference and the subject of my previous editorial on ‘just sustainability’, requires value judgements which can never be quantified. Sustainability does not exclude the socio-political dimension, but it defines it as a distinct realm; one of the four ‘pillars’ or three ‘legs’ depending on how the pie is sliced. Conversely, regenerative design is concerned with the complex web of relationships that form an integrated whole that cannot so easily be dissected. This is an aspiration rather than a reality and unfortunately social relationships are too readily glossed over or presented as universal and homogenous. One notable point of difference is Steven Moore’s treatise on regenerative design through an analysis of the Laredo Blueprint Farm in Texas.[3] It takes some resolve to wade through all the academic lingo, but Moore makes some really good points about the inter-relationships between the success of environmental initiatives and the politics of ownership, production and education.

Regenerative design is still evolving and maturing in its ideas and applications. Unlike sustainability it is not premised on an idealised end point but rather recognises the necessity of the process of development along variously divergent and convergent paths. Who knows exactly where these paths will lead, but with so many of the pioneers of sustainable design now working in this area, expect to hear more in the future ……

Dr Ceridwen Owen
Architects for Peace, September 2007

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References:

[1] McDonough, W. (1998) ‘Declaration of Interdependence’ in Scott, A. (ed.) Dimensions of Sustainability, London: E & F Spon.
[2] Birkeland, J. EDG (2007) ‘Positive Development’, Building Design Practitioners Environment Design Guide, Melbourne: RAIA (in publication).
[3] Moore, S.A. (2001) Technology and Place: Sustainable architecture and the Blueprint Farm, Austin: University of Texas Press.

Just Sustainability

Just Sustainability: reflections on the shift towards the social in the Chennai conference on sustainability

The shift in public discourse on the issue of environmental sustainability in recent months is nothing short of incredible. Less than a year ago, it would have seemed inconceivable that Kochie and Mel could host a major campaign on breakfast television to ‘Cool the Globe’, or that channel 10 could promote Sandra Sully in ‘Cool Aid’ as prime-time television viewing. Evidently, environmental sustainability, and particularly climate change, is a media hot topic. Finally, it appears that the public, and yes perhaps even the state and federal politicians, have woken up to the mass of evidence that has been accumulating on the state of planet. If actions flow on from the promised words, then there is an inkling of hope that the atmospheric carbon trend might not disappear off the top right-hand corner of Al Gore’s alarming powerpoint presentations.

Too little too late, or better late than never? The pessimists and optimists among us might disagree. However, in this editorial I am interested in pursuing another shift that appears to be developing in the less publicised arena of academic discourse on sustainability. The ‘Third International Conference on Environmental, Cultural, Economic and Social Sustainability’ held in Chennai, India earlier this year, opened with a keynote presentation from Julian Agyeman, on the notion of ‘just sustainability’. In his speech, Julian explored the connections between the concepts of environmental justice and sustainability. The core contention of his argument is that questions of sustainability and questions of human equality are inseparable, and that sustainability will be achieved (if at all) by citizens and not by engineers and technicians.

This argument is not new, and Julian’s perspective is part of a long legacy of socially-minded environmentalists including the social ecologist Murray Bookchin and former director of Friends of the Earth and UK green party chairman Jonathon Porritt.[1] ‘Green’ is a colour associated with both defenders of the planet and leftist politics and for many their ideological marriage is an easy one. The social dimension is recognised as one of the four ‘pillars’ of sustainability, together with environmental, cultural and economic concerns. It is also ‘accounted’ for as part of the triple bottom line, which now forms the foundation of corporate responsibility. However, despite the expanded spectrum of concerns that sustainability includes within its mandate, it has not been able to shed the perception that much of the discourse is embedded within middle class conservative values. The fact remains that we are part of a very privileged 15% of the world’s population who are responsible for around 80% of the resources consumed and pollution produced. [2] This leads many (me included) to wonder whether much of the touted ‘sustainable development’ goes anywhere near far enough. Can we really have our cake and eat it too?

This is definitely the message pushed in the media, and I can understand why. Jonathon Porritt’s shift towards the right and away from ‘green’ politics has allowed him to fry bigger fish in the business and political world, while Al Gore’s sentiments have motivated thousands to make the change, or at least start by buying energy efficient light globes. The environmental problems are easier to ‘fix’, or at least a good place to make a start. Consequently, conversations in the media mainstream rarely stray from carbon emissions and the resultant climatic effects, with debate on ‘solutions’ focused around energy production and water recycling technologies.

The academy, on the other hand, loves a messy problem. At the Chennai conference, if any one area among the vast array of presentations appeared to dominate, it was the social dimension of sustainability. Julian’s keynote speech inadvertently became the theme for the conference with many presenters echoing his concerns for a focus on intra-generational rather than inter-generational equity. Notably, questions of indigenous and economic inequities prevailed, but other papers considered issues of class, gender, health, crime and politics. One paper even explored the question of sustainability within the judicial system by examining the understanding of sustainable development by judges. The discovery that there is an absence of any formalised response to sustainability within the judiciary is not surprising. However, the fact that both researchers and high-court judges saw this as an unrealised area of opportunity is an encouraging outcome.

The shift towards the messy space of the social is also of interest to architects, and it is perhaps notable that architects and designers appeared to constitute the largest single disciplinary area within this multi-disciplinary conference. This is not to suggest that environmental sustainability is of no concern to architects, but rather to acknowledge that it is often framed in the context of minimising harm rather than instigating positive change. To this end, Esther Charlesworth’s keynote presentation on reconstruction in post-conflict cities clearly demonstrated both the extent of the social problems to be addressed and the opportunities for architectural intervention.

With the mass displacement caused by war and climatic disasters on the increase, the imperative to address issues of social equity has never been stronger. Furthermore, if issues of environmental and social sustainability are inseparable, then we cannot continue to address the state of the planet within the relatively narrow frame of carbon dioxide emissions. Unfortunately, the federal politicians do not seem to have seen the light on this issue and are instead sinking their heads deeper in the sand by implementing policies that further the abuse of human rights for refugees. With the exception of averting a mass influx of refugees due to rising sea levels by reducing carbon emissions, the mainstream media isn’t quite ready to connect these issues either.

At this point at the end of the editorial I now find myself pondering a somewhat scary future vision of Naomi Robson coming out of retirement to co-host a show on Channel 7 with a now grown-up Wah-Wah on ’10 things you can do to make a refugee feel at home’. However, in a more optimistic frame I am hopeful that the expanding net of sustainability in general, and the issue of intra-generational equity in particular, will find its place within the wider psyche in the future. As one of the delegates at the conference noted, the shift in thinking required is subtle, yet significant:

‘If everyone is somebody, no one is anybody’. (Gilbert and Sullivan)

‘Until everyone is somebody, no one is anybody’[3]

Ceridwen Owen

Architects for Peace, March 2007.


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[1] See Bookchin, M. (1996) Philosophy of Social Ecology. Montréal: Black Rose Books and Porritt, J. (1984) Seeing Green. Oxford: Blackwell.
[2] Gladwin, T.N., Newburry, W.E. and Reiskin, E.D. (1997) 'Why is the Northern Elite Mind Biased Against Community, the Environment, and a Sustainable Future?' in Bazerman, M.H. (ed.) Environment, Ethics, and Behavior. San Francisco: New Lexington Press.
[3] Anon. (Colleague of Barbara Rahder, quoted at the ‘Third International Conference on Environment, Cultural, Economic and Social Sustainability’, Chennai, India, 4-7 January 2007.