Architecture is more than the act of constructing buildings; it is about changing the world in which we live, creating spaces with narratives that provoke feelings, and that instill a sense of belonging. But it’s not without its drama, just like a good story—everything from losing arguments on preservation of historical landmarks in favor of development, to conversations that are haunted by the ethics of gentrification, to wins and lessons learned from buildings that have been deemed failures. All of these conversations incite passion and force us to question the world we are creating, and who decides what stays and what goes.
Let’s take a moment here to unpack some of the largest and most conversation-inducing debates in architecture today: preservation versus modern development, the ethics of urban gentrification, and what we have learned from famous failed buildings. Whether you are an architecture nerd and these conversations excite you, or you’re simply a person intrigued by how the built environment leads to the shaping of society, these conversations are valuable and difficult to ignore.
Preservation vs. Modern Development: A Battle for the Future
One of the largest, most passion-filled arguments in the world of architecture is whether to preserve an old building or to embrace new development and let it go. The cities in the world have fascinating stories to tell through the buildings or structures that show their identities or their backgrounds, and cultural significance; but as the world progresses forward, development often coincides with population growth, the advance of technology and increase in necessity; which is when the world of preservation and new development collide.
The Case for Preservation: Hold On to the Past!
There is an allure to historic buildings – one minute you are looking at the urban landscape, and the next you are being transported to a different era. Whether it’s the Colosseum in Rome, the Eiffel Tower in Paris, or the Taj Mahal in India, these buildings are far more than just tourist attractions. They are living historical time capsules that bind us to our ancestors and give us a feeling of continuity through time. Preservationists claim that these buildings are significant and worthy of preservation not only for their aesthetic values, but also because they constitute cultural identity, provide shared memories of past generations, and share a glimpse into the human experience.
For instance, did you know the Colosseum in Rome is one of the most recognized landmarks in the world and not only represents the great civilization of Rome, but is also a UNESCO World Heritage Site? It attracts millions of tourists every year and helps drive the economy in Rome. After all, part of the allure of buildings like the Colosseum is not just its majestic architecture, but also the history of the gladiators, battles, and amazing engineering feats that occurred there nearly 2,000 years ago.
Ultimately, the preservation of old buildings enables generations to experience and understand the past in ways that textbooks cannot. Preserving these sites also ensures that the traditional skills and crafts like stonemasonry will still be available for future generations. If you have walked through the cathedral at Notre Dame in Paris or the incredible mosaics at St. Mark’s Basilica in Venice, you could probably think of the time required and the dexterity of those who built them. This traditional construction approach may be less common today, underscoring the significance of the buildings that preserve them.
The Case for Modern Development: Make Room for the Future!
But what happens when we ought to preserve the past, but also need to expand? As urban sprawl increases and populations grow, we need more, more, and more—the planning, design, and buildings themselves must consider the requirements of a modern city, and in some circumstances, existing buildings can be prohibitively expensive to maintain. The World Trade Center in New York is a perfect example of this. Although the twin towers were iconic buildings, they were not energy-efficient buildings, nor did they meet the security or technological functions of more modern buildings. One World Trade Center was built to replace it—a modern wonder of architecture that stands as a symbol of recovery for the city and nation after the atrocities of September 11, 2001, but is also much more energy efficient, sustainable, and far safer.
Fun Fact: One World Trade Center has a remarkably dense 4-inch thick steel core and a massive base to provide structural integrity against earthquakes, tornadoes, and terrorist attacks, along with one of the highest green ratings available, making it a true symbol of modern development with a respect for sustainability needs.
Cities like Singapore and Dubai showcase examples of how modern architecture can combine form with function. Marina Bay Sands is a stunning resort well known for the three towers and sky park, and the jaw-dropping views of the city. Although preserving the history of cities is vital, there are examples of projects that reimagine how cities can grow and evolve while respecting the underlying environmental, cultural, and community elements. Sometimes, at the speed of urbanization, it means urban upgrading—developing energy-efficient housing, larger housing options, and more high-tech high-rise office buildings to help keep businesses booming. Cities like Shanghai, China, and New York City still find ways to refresh their skyline with bold new skyscrapers, peeking into the future while welcoming all that is past, present, and future (forever evolving with all three).
The Ethics of Architecture in Urban Gentrification: Who Benefits?
In its simplest form, gentrification is the conversion of lower-income neighborhoods into more affluent ones. On the flip side, gentrification can typically bring along with it better infrastructure, safety, and the relocation of economic opportunities for businesses in the area, along with leaving out long-term residents who are simply unable to afford it. The process of gentrification encompasses buildings that become renovated or replaced, geared towards new, wealthier residents, not for the people who have helped to define the character of their neighborhoods.
Let’s first the upside to this gentrification cycle—‘revitalizing an area that may be economically depressed’. Gentrification has a bad rap, but it can bring about some positive changes, not only to the houses, buildings, and streets, but also to the people who live in those neighborhoods. Sometimes gentrification brings new investments, and community safety, with improved public services to support lauding growth in new development areas with public services like transportation, schooling, health care, etc. Eventual recognition that traffic call safety education in emerging neighborhoods and gentrifying areas can produce preliminary changes towards prevention and safety for neighborhoods that are developmentally constrained. As an example, there is a bridging story from Washington, D.C., with a neighborhood called Shaw. Shaw was infamously recognized for its out-of-control crime statistics in urban development, but in one generation, Shaw has been transformed from poverty, crime, and disinvestment to becoming a new trendy area of restaurants, galleries, and new living models & choices.
By way of note, an inner-city Brooklyn example is suitably correlated, prior to the strict gentrification demography of present times. A variety of neighborhoods out of gritty indifference like DUMBO (Down under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass) when I was younger, after gentrification transitioned into one of New York’s most pleasing (and expensive) places to be a part of. Once a grimy industrial wasteland, DUMBO is also now hip with art galleries, coffee shops, and pleasing Brooklyn Bridge views.
Gentrification can also spark new employment opportunities, attainable to artists, musicians, and small business owners. In neighborhoods that have stayed below the radar of opportunity, urban gentrification astoundingly brings opportunity, doing so now from before.
But with the emergence and growth of gentrifying neighborhoods, the drawback of the opportunity wave is the alteration and removal of lower-income neighborhoods replacement of permanent housing. Rent costs are more expensive, and families who have been lifelong residents leave. The removal and displacement of long-term families is particularly disheartening for neighborhoods rich with historical and cultural meaning—taking away meaning in a neighborhood takes away the many things that made that neighborhood unique to the city.
A San Francisco example is the Mission District. The Mission District was a predominantly Latino neighborhood, once consumed with an affordable and talented resident population, but it has transformed with new, higher-income residents, most plumage non-Latino, pursuing easier quotes, displacing many long-term families, and the rent has skyrocketed. Gentrification also precludes non-gentry businesses and neighborhood tensions high, but its also a parody of the rise of fancy coffee or high-end boutique stores occupying the commercial space in a community that is essentially internationally bound by trade and commerce of immigrants/retail- celebratory spirit, that was accomplished by former Missions, Lumbenos, and people of the colonial urban Spanish ruins culture. Gentrification, as illustrated, can be detrimental to the point of cultural erasure—removing our urban neighborhood and gripping to erase the history, traditions, and vibe of that community to produce a more valued, “Lego of what is in”.
The ethical dilemma here lies in how we approach this development. It’s not enough to just build modern spaces that attract wealthier people. Urban architects and city planners must think about creating spaces that help improve the lives of everyone in the community, including those who have been there for generations.
Famous “Failed” Buildings: Learning From Mistakes
Not every building is a success story. Some buildings fail due to counterproductive planning, finances, and sometimes simply being too ahead of their time. However, even “failed” buildings can teach us lessons regarding what works and what doesn’t.
Pruitt-Igoe Housing Complex: The Modernist Utopia That Crumbled
The Pruitt-Igoe housing complex in St. Louis is perhaps the most recognizable “failed” building in modernity. Designed in the ’50s by architect Minoru Yamasaki (who designed the World Trade Center), it aimed to define the future of affordable housing. The complex was a towering high-rise structure meant to hold hundreds of low-income families in a complex that would exist in the heart of the city. By the 1970s, it was a symbol of urban decay—crime was rampant, maintenance was overlooked, and eventually the complex was demolished in 1972, only twenty years after construction.
So what happened? Most often, Pruitt-Igoe is cited as the best example of how modernist architecture can fail when people are taken out of the design process. Further, the rational, efficient, and sleek design completely disregarded the social needs of people. Ultimately, the high-rise design was too isolating, and by eliminating lots of commonality, it diminished community, and ultimately produced crime. The architectural lesson is really that architecture should never disregard the people who occupy the space, instead of just functional and aesthetic concerns. The Ryugyong Hotel: The “Hotel of Doom” of North Korea
The Ryugyong Hotel: North Korea’s “Hotel of Doom”
The Ryugyong Hotel, situated in Pyongyang, North Korea, is a monument to ambition gone awry. Construction began in 1987, and the building was to be the tallest hotel in the world, but financial instability and political problems stalled the building, leaving it incomplete for almost two decades. To this day, it is an unfinished monument towering over the city, vacant and unwanted.
Fun fact: the Ryugyong Hotel’s design was so far ahead of its time that it required massive amounts of steel and concrete, and, at one point, workers ran out of materials and had to halt construction altogether. It is a very stark lesson that far-reaching plans can often be brought to their knees in the absence of proper planning and resources.
Boston City Hall: The Brutalist Icon That Divides Opinion
And last, we have Boston City Hall, a brutalist masterpiece that has been divisive since it was first constructed in 1968. Some people admire the bold geometric design, while others find it cold and uninviting. Brutalism was meant to express strength and functionality by using raw concrete and bold forms. But too many people feel Boston City Hall’s hefty, fortress-like design offers more alienation than inspiration.
Lesson? Just because something is a cutting-edge design does not mean people will like it! Unfortunately, we have to remember that architecture will echo the feelings and needs of the people who will use the building and occupy its spaces every day.
Conclusion: The Ongoing Architectural Conversation
Architecture is an ongoing dialogue. It is a complex juggling act of respecting the lessons of the past while inviting the future and making sure that every project respects the people in the buildings, buildings I might add, that are the physical expressions of the people who will inhabit and experience them. From the tension of honouring preservation against modern development to the ethics of gentrification and lessons learned from well-discussed architectural blunders, these points of contention challenge us to open our eyes and think about our world, for whom it is built, and for whom it is ultimately for.
As we push forward into the future, our buildings must change as well. But we ought not to forget those who were in the past and the lessons from the failed projects, and the people we impact with the changes. Ultimately, architecture is about recognising that our buildings will become places and, ultimately, spaces that have the agency to help make our world a better place for everyone, and that is a dialogue worth having.
