Pattern Builders

to design or to build - is that the question?

 

A few months back, I hosted a lecture at Catholic University on heavy timber construction given by one of the greatest heavy timber experts in the world - Ben Brungraber, PhD, P.E..  It got me thinking, as Ben's talks always do, about larger issues like architectural education, the state of the construction industry, and where we were going to grab a beer afterwards. 

 

 
 

Ben gives especially informative, riveting, and humorous talks. And it was nice to return to my alma mater, CUA - I love to see the studios and what the students are creating.  It's such a rich environment.  I appreciated, too, the opportunity to help portray an aspect of building that seems to impassion every professional working in its realm, the world of heavy timber construction.  The people I know in that industry absolutely love what they do.  They're intellectuals, many of them, and dedicated craftsman, all.  They're filled with passion for what they do.  Which is what brought me to bring Ben to CUA.  And got me thinking, again, about the unfortunate divisions that exist between architecture, building, and the trades.

The biggest division is between architects and building.  Architecture schools can fill your head with a lot of chic and/or useless theory about design, while simultaneously leaving a serious void when it comes to anything about building.

Interestingly, and thinking about the students, the AIA (American Institute of Architects) web site had a feature a while back where young architects could post their personal answers to the question "Why did I become an architect?"  At the time, there were 11 testimonials.  Of the 11, 10 spoke only of design - never mentioning the word build or any of its derivatives, not even the word construction.  The one person who actually wrote of building referred to a chicken coop that he had helped build as a child with his grandfather.  And 5 of the young architects cited legos as their seminal inspiration for pursuing a career in architecture.

It is lamentable that the very profession that lays claim to being the experts regarding our built environment has so little interest and virtually no self-recognition that the primary objective of their work is to build.

So, building gets a bad rap.  And design is where it's at.  Design is what people like to read about, look at, aspire to in their own homes.  It's a very sophisticated industry that carefully markets products and targets buyers. In the world of architecture, design has become virtually all that the profession is concerned with.

In fact, at one point, the AIA considered whether or not an architect ought to be permitted to build anything.  While perhaps advisable, it was shocking.  Here was an entire profession shunning the only process by which their work is realized - and seeking to prohibit its members from directly engaging in the act of building through legislation within their own bylaws.  Clearly, for them, their profession is about design; construction or building is something that others do.

What is so remarkable about this is that architects, for most of recorded history, were the builders.  The division between design and construction is a new, very modern, development.  The word architect, from its Greek roots, literally means "one who works in wood".  Are buildings too complicated today that one expert cannot direct both their design and construction?  Does the agency aspect of design really create a conflict of interest for an owner?  Perhaps the divide became necessary for contractual or liability reasons - another victim of the legal profession run amok?  Whatever the reasons, the results are not good.

Through Pattern Builders I am very fortunate that I can focus a day's efforts on a particular project or two and ruminate a little when a repetitive task allows it.  I can clearly see the results of labor and effort at the end of the day.  It's satisfying.  Strenuous at times, often dirty, but it's glorious, too.

After Ben's talk we walked again through the architectural studios.  Admiring the students' work reassured me for those moments that the glory of building still exists in the heart of the students giving hope that it still remains at the heart of the architectural profession - as it always was and should always be.

 

 

 

the real crisis

Any survey of our built environment displays a wide variety of patterns - some good, some bad.

Homes, in particular, come in lots of different packages - large and small, custom and tract, well built and shoddy.  I have heard from many homeowners looking for an affordable home that the choices are often underwhelming, especially when looking at products from our largest builders.  Other factors aside for the moment, make no mistake: the consequences of poorly planned homes, neighborhoods, towns, and cities are serious and unpleasant.

Most of us don't accept cheap, fast, and easy as the best solution for anything, except - maybe - a burger and fries.  Even then it's usually regrettable.  Why, then, do we routinely settle for this in our homes?  The simple fact is that many homes - and nearly all new homes - in the United States are built by large developers and builders interested more in making a profit and minimizing risk than making you happy.

Happiness is a quality that can be supported and encouraged by our built environment.  Consider, too, that happy people live longer, are healthier, more productive, and generally are a lot more fun to be around.

Did the mortgage crisis make us happy?  Yet, remarkably, with all the commentary on the causes of a mortgage crisis nobody seems to be talking about the homes themselves, and those who built them, as playing a role in the mortgage mess.

Was it really surprising that the whole system crashed?  We had been on an unprecedented building boom for 30 years that this country had not seen since the years after WW2.  Large developers, working in concert with big investors, local planning boards, and nearly uniform zoning regulations across the country, have virtually ruined the entire American landscape and a global economy to boot.  But, I don't hear too many people complaining about it.  I guess we're too happy to be bothered by it.

In my opinion, large developers have been pulling one over on the American public for decades. Convincing us all that a brick front and 3 vinyl sides, senseless and goofy gables, or a pressure treated deck, or a plastic railing is a thing of beauty; these folks have dropped these stack-a-shack homes all over the country.  Was it really surprising that the homes and neighborhoods the big developers were building might be over-valued, or poorly constructed, or would possibly depreciate in value faster than other homes?

Using Google Earth to compare the worst-affected counties hit hardest by the mortgage crisis (such as Clark and Nye Counties, NV; Pinal County, AZ; Broward County, FL; San Joaquin, Stanislaus, Merced, Kern, and Solano Counties in CA) a pattern becomes evident.  While I haven't mapped each foreclosure, I'm willing to bet a serious analysis of the areas of plummeting value correlate highly with areas where big developers and builders have left their largest scars on the landscape.

 Clark County, NV

  Broward County, FL

Pinal County, AZ

Prince William County, VA

San Joaquin County, CA

Stanislaus County, CA

We all pay a price in this picture.  And there's plenty of blame to go around.

Congress, for one, should shoulder their fair share of the blame in the recent mortgage crisis.  After all, it was congress that mandated bad loans be made to people who perhaps couldn't afford them and then swept the problem under the rug for a couple of years while we all fed at the trough.

Mortgage lenders should have been more careful, too, but with a flood of hungry investors willing to trade bundled securities and derivative financial products based on assumed values of new, real property, why leave the party?

Local governments and their zoning officials would love to have more taxpayers on their rosters and cheap, fast, and easy homes mean more revenue.

Let's not forget about us, the consumers.  Many of us took advantage of relaxed lending rules to spend the equity in our homes and bite off more than we could chew.  But we also bought a lot of crap.

All factors considered, it was a nightmarish feast and it went on for decades.

It happened before, and will likely happen again, too.

Remember the Savings and Loan crisis?  That, too, was caused by bad lending in too-risky ventures rooted in unsound, and primarily builder-grade, real estate.  Did we forget that mess?

It will happen again unless we understand and talk about the real causes.  The biggest cause, I'm convinced, is that we have been duped by large builders and developers, and their ancillary players - including the realtors and appraisers - who have us thinking we all need 3000 square feet of living space enclosed with flimsy walls clad in a quarter-acre of drywall.  We talk today about sustainable building yet we have the meaning completely wrong.  Regardless of materials and methods (bamboo flooring shipped from around the world and trucked all over with diesel engines will never be "green"), there was, and is, absolutely nothing sustainable about what large developers and builders have been passing off as neighborhoods and homes since the 1980's.

The American dream - a single family home, appreciating in value, in a nice neighborhood - has been hijacked.  It happened slowly.  It spread all over the country.

Consider this: most people, when asked what their ideal neighborhood would be - regardless of location - would likely point to or describe an older neighborhood and not a new development.  An analysis of these most-desired neighborhoods reveals their embedded patterns; tree-lined streets, sidewalks of a certain width and distance from the homes and streets, construction type, heights and widths, roof forms, a variety of features and materials that allow differentiation and individuality, proximity to schools and shopping, etc.  One can also imagine a response such as "I don't really know why I like this neighborhood, but the homes are all different, and I like it."

Further reflection of the neighborhoods that make us happiest, including those from other countries, would indicate many regional differences that include both detached and attached homes, with and without garages, pedestrian and car-oriented, old and new.

Think of your own favorite neighborhoods:  close your eyes and really picture them.  Walk down their streets in your mind.  Go up to their front doors.  Note the features and activity of the neighborhood.  The sidewalks, people, children, trees, porches, common spaces, nearby schools or parks, the corner grocery stores or churches, fences, house forms, materials, driveways, gardens, windows and doors.

Was your ideal neighborhood a new development built by a large or national builder?  Were there brick fronts and vinyl sides, at all, anywhere, in your mind's images?

There are thousands of beautiful neighborhoods all over this country and the rest of the world.  They tend to have regional characteristics composed of local forms and vernaculars, materials, social and cultural factors, - all patterns tailored to, supportive of, and created by the daily events of their users.

The patterns found in neighborhoods we love most, and which make us happiest, can be listed and analyzed. (See A Pattern Language, by Christopher Alexander).  So too, can the patterns of the neighbrhoods we like the least.  Let's consider those for a moment.

Think of the typical developer neighborhood.  It often has a "fake" feel to it.  It may or may not be bland, and one may think that the homes even look pretty nice.  We're accustomed to them.  Many of us live in them.  "But they're missing something", we think.  We think, and we're right.

The typical big-builder neighborhood is a sham.  It exists ubiquitously throughout the United States regardless of climate, geography, regionalism, economics, local resources, historical precedent.  Often, these places don't, really, even qualify as neighborhoods.  Do you ever see children playing in the yards?  See any neighbors?  No - the occupants get sucked into the garage door (which is really the front door for many of these homes) and then they stay inside until they have a reason to leave such as "I need to get out of here and do something" and then that something usually means leaving their neighborhood.

We have forgotten how to build real neighborhoods in this country.  We have also devalued our tradesmen and left quality by the wayside.  But big builders, working in concert with lousy zoning policies all over the country, have gamed the system to make a quick buck while destroying our notion of an ideal neighborhood in the process.

I understand why we buy homes in these developments - they're there, they're new, under warranty, they have a garage for our junk, they won't need an expensive new roof for several decades, we only need a place to live for the next few years.  I understand that economics favors the large builders acting on a large scale.  Whatever the reasons, at what personal, psychological, and cultural costs do we buy into these fabricated communities?  At least trailer parks have children running around, people fixing cars, and signs of life.

Think about it.  Your average trailer park, so vilified and put down, may actually show more signs of life than a new residential development these days.  What are the real costs here?

As evident from the recent mortgage and housing crisis, the financial costs alone can be disastrous. There are environmental costs.  Infrastructure costs.  So, too, are there cultural costs.  Those may be the real future liabilities.  Cultural maladies such as divorce, obesity, unhappiness, lethargy, apathy, educational problems, poverty, crime, spiritual problems, etc. can be supported, reinforced, or even created by the neighborhoods and homes themselves in which we choose to live.

History will be the final arbiter of my complaints.  But I think we've already built so many of tomorrow's problems that we all ought to be scared.

When you next drive through a pleasant neighborhood - wherever it is and regardless of the income level of its residents - take a moment and note the patterns that make it so.  Places for children, tree places, porches, variety of materials, house forms and styles, sidewalks, gardens, parking options, etc.  Good patterns make these places great.

Those are the qualities we should be building into our communities - patterns that make us a happy and healthy society.  Demand those patterns from your zoning officials, realtors, builders, and remodelers.  As we know from our most recent housing-based crisis, when good patterns are lacking, we can't afford the consequences.

Bright Idea?

Compact Fluorescent Light Bulbs (CFL's)

New in the marketplace and soon-to-be-mandated, are compact fluorescent light bulbs (CFLs) here to brighten our lives?

I like incandescent bulbs.  I haven't cared, mostly, that they're incredibly inefficient devices that make a lot more heat than they do light. The CFL bulb is likely a prudent addition to the average American home and business when used in moderation.  Take a few minutes to learn about the new product before you dismiss it as junk, then identify locations where it's sensible to use them, try a few, monitor their performance, and be mindful of how you dispose them.

Each CFL contains mercury (Hg).  Quicksilver as I almost forgot.  Bear in mind, though, that a typical CFL bulb has 2-5 milligrams of Hg per bulb.  This is about 100 times less than the amount of Hg in a typical bulb-type medical thermometer, and perhaps as much as 1000 times less than what's in the glass vial inside an old bi-metal thermostat switch.  Today, though, most of us use digital versions of those devices and, if not, we change those devices very infrequently, if ever.  Bulbs, we know, are different; and mercury contamination can be disastrous.

Airborne mercury usually poses a low risk to humans, except in higher concentrations or when it makes it's way into the water supply through rivers, lakes, and oceans.  In the water, Hg will transform into methyl mercury and build up to toxic levels in fish.  Consumption of contaminated fish is the most common path for Hg exposure in humans.  Pregnant women and young children are most vulnerable to the nasty effects of Hg exposure.  If we all have CFL's in our homes, and many of us simply toss them in the trash (which will undoubtedly be the case), we will be making quite a mess.

Congress might not be thinking about that.

What leaders may be considering, though, is the opportunity that CFLs present before us today to safely, substantively, and simultaneously reduce our electric consumption, carbon footprints, and even the amount of mercury we each put into the environment.

CFLs can seriously reduce mercury emissions in our environment by reducing mercury emissions from coal-fired power plants.  A coal-fired power plant will emit 13.6 milligrams of Hg to produce the electricity required for an incandescent light bulb, compared to the 2-5 milligrams of Hg contained inside a CFL.

Some facts* to consider:

• Coal-generated electricity per KwH places 4 times as much mercury directly into our air than that which is contained inside a typical CFL bulb.  A typical CFL bulb uses uses one fourth the energy of a common incandescent bulb to produce the same amount of light.  Therefore, one has to conclude that the CFL, when disposed of properly, is a good thing.
• Incandescent bulbs get hot to the touch because they're much more efficient at producing heat than light; 90% of the energy used in an incandescent bulb is for heat generation and only 10% goes to produce the light we're seeking.
• In rare circumstances, infrared light produced from a CFL can cause interference with electronic devices that utilize infrared remote controllers.  This can happen because the CFL needs to make ultraviolet light in order to get the phosphor to glow inside the bulb.
• The CFL bulb takes a while to warm up, too.  Most of us won't notice the less-than-one-second start-up period, but it takes up to 3 minutes for a CFL bulb to get warmed up to the point of becoming electrically efficient.
• CFLs use 2/3 less energy than standard incandescent bulbs and last up to 10 times longer.
• Switching one 60 watt lamp in your home to a CFL could save you $30 over the life of the bulb.  Switching more bulbs will save you more $$$.
• CFLs emit 70% less heat which then doesn't have to be removed by an air conditioner.  This is especially significant in areas where cooling loads are great such as most office buildings and almost everywhere in the southern climes.

Collectively, it adds up and makes a lot of sense.

Use CFLs in areas where they're not going to get bumped.  Don't put them in exposed, single light bulb bases found in many closets.  Use them in places where they'll be turned on for long periods of time like outdoor lights or indoor fixtures that are often turned on for more than 15 minutes at a time.  Use them where you don't want want the excess heat generation of an incandescent bulb.  Don't use them at your desk if you don't like them.  Dispose of them properly.  Do these things, and you'll be on your way to maximizing the benefits and reaping significant energy savings.

But, use them somewhere.  It will save you money.

And DO write to your representatives and tell them to stick to politics, not light bulbs.  We're all bright enough to figure this out on our own.

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* source: GE