The Social(ist) Agenda

When William Morris penned his pamphlets under the umbrella of The Socialist Platform in 1885, it was in a context of huge social change brought about largely by technical advances. To Morris, the class system was the mechanism of wealth creation for some but mainly poverty and entrapment for the many. He sought nothing short of a new ideology for society and invited ordinary working people, with their Unions, to join what he called an international ‘Socialist commonwealth’.³

120 years later, we have reached a different crisis, but one that also demands unified collective action. Morris was prescient in his assumption that the capitalist project was on course to marginalise and divide peoples, and that its reach would be global. He was also visionary in anticipating a future where the cause and effect of mechanisation, and now digitisation, was irrevocably connected to both wealth creation and immense poverty, as well as unhealthy living conditions and the degradation of the environment. Returning to Klein’s writing, we find that her argument pivots around the inability of (capitalist) corporations to change or adapt in the face of overwhelming evidence that so many of our industrial and extraction practices are producing toxic by-products and environmental disaster stories. It appears the project of globalisation has led to the dominance of big business resulting in big mistakes not only for the environment but for people, and in particular those that are marginalised. Her invitation to change is echoed in the words of architect Indy Johar, whose mantra is ‘socially driven sustainability’, reflecting that:

Indeed, the snowballing call for climate change action has been increasingly well documented in the media, to the ire of the oil, gas and coal industries. In the run-up to the 2015 Climate Change Conference (COP21)⁵ there were a number of high-profile demonstrations rallying politicians to take note. In London, the Campaign Against Climate Change⁶ estimated 70,000 people took part, united by the call to push for the urgent and radical action needed to prevent the catastrophic destabilisation of global climate. Similarly in the US, the People’s Climate Movement organises hundreds of local events:

Tellingly, the UK’s architectural community seems to be less vocal, with precious little call for action from RIBA, not least because it is estimated that more than 30% of global greenhouse gas emissions are derived from buildings. Why is it that architects, who are uniquely positioned to make a difference in our planned future, are so silent?

Linking Arms

While the link between LGBT activism and climate change action may seem obscure, it has been insightful to track these subject areas in the press over the course of 2015. For example: the speech given at the White House in September by Pope Francis, calling for international support of gay marriage and action on climate change in the same breath.⁸ Around the same time, responding to Obama’s surprise decision to reject the construction of the Keystone XL oil pipeline, Time magazine suggested that this action represented a critical hinge point in the debate, not because of the scale of this particular pipe line but because the act itself was symbolic of change:

The case of the Keystone XL pipeline is important because it proved to be a tipping point: a moment where local resistance could no longer be ignored. Indeed, post-COP21 such cases increasingly seem to reflect that common sense has prevailed, illustrating that in the face of overwhelming evidence new narratives have the capacity to be adopted. It is testament to the power of grassroots initiatives that substantial and meaningful political change can be brought about by previously invisible groups of people. Unlike the socialist preachers in Victorian Britain described by Morris, today’s activists come from diverse backgrounds and geographical regions, united by a commitment to massive change.

The potential success of the 2015 Paris Climate Change Conference lies in the agreed text that represents a consensus of 195 participating parties; in other words, the majority of countries on the planet. Could we be witnessing the first truly global treatise? Looking at the various independent lobbying groups and non-state parties, the contribution by Women’s Earth and Climate Action Network (WECAN) is worth capturing in full:

Importantly, this inclusive mission statement both names the problem and proposes a strategy. It draws on the legacy of women’s rights activism in bringing structure and purpose to the environmental movement. Similarly, when asked how the LGBT community could help fight climate change, New York-based Queers for the Climate were clear on their position. They were a community who knew how to organise and fight as well as having experience in telling stories and sharing messages that have the power to move people into action.¹¹

Queers for the Climate founder Joseph Huff-Hannon underscores how agents for change are often found close to home, within the community and the workplace, and can then be galvanised into a powerful voice that has traction. It is the people and the stories they tell that propel the cause, rather than the facts themselves. He also talks about the innate creative talent within the LGBT community as an asset for developing tactics that challenge the status quo. The use of humour, design, and empathy are all tools and traits that have been harnessed in the campaign for equality and understanding. In our globalised and connected world we find that the key drivers of change are often reported as being political, economic or both, but rarely social or creative. So could it be that when it comes to architects and their profession, creativity – one of the very qualities that describe an architect – has been sidelined in dealing with the need for change?

Designing Change

Returning to the UK architectural profession, there is an increasing tension between RIBA and the wishes of its members for change. Despite the instigation of diversity policies, female presidents, and role model projects to name but a few; the ‘old boys’ club’ label still sticks. A recent critical article in the Guardian quotes Danna Walker, chair of Architects for Change, as saying:

Surely this is the nub of the issue? If the critique surrounding the relevance and activities of the profession, RIBA, and our educational system are to be answered, we need new and inspiring stories to be written that reflect positive change as well as areas that require action. The reason allegations of institutional sexism and racism abound is because RIBA appears to resist change, and prefers to act behind closed doors. It struggles to be inclusive and to inspire, despite a revolving door policy of electing a new president every two years. Indeed, the notion that the role of the architect is in crisis thrives precisely because its previous incarnation at the top of the tree no longer fits. Until this is accepted, progress will likely be limited. Too much time is spent bemoaning the emerging new order and not enough time is invested in crafting new opportunities and spaces in which to act. Architects should be part of an ethical system and be prepared to take on the causes of our time. As Jeremy Till highlights, the crisis of the profession is one that evades change, refusing to recalibrate itself in the world we find ourselves. He suggests we must:

It also requires us to consider where new ideas, new ideologies and focus come from. Is it top-down, from the heart of the establishment, or is it from the people whom it serves? In other words, is policy something we are asked to sign up to or is it something we create together? If it is the latter, then perhaps it is time to shout a bit louder.

The idea that the architectural profession is out of kilter with the zeitgeist is as much an issue for other creative industries. Addressing the fashion world, veteran consultant Lidewij Edelkoort warned about the dangers of an industry placing itself outside of society and rendering its own education system redundant:

Replace ‘catwalk’ with ‘icon’, and you could apply this to most schools of architecture, where cherished notions of authority, genius and leadership coalesce around the efforts of an individual. While change is in the air, there remains a real need for the education of the architect to be reframed. Where might we search for new strategies, models and inspiration?

Setting a New (A)Gender

Historically we find that big change is most often effected either by the powerful and privileged few, or by the concerted actions of many. Considering the mandate fought for, and largely won, by the LGBT community, we see that creative action and the tactics of inclusion have led to better equality, same-sex marriage, and a political voice. Here, the few became many. The intersection between the LGBT community and climate change activists is the common ground in their belief that to instigate change you first have to raise awareness in your own backyard. The next step on the journey is to share your story, and to find new audiences who can empathise and support fresh initiatives. Crucially, however, Klein tells us that new operative models must demonstrate that they improve on the existing one, bringing benefits along the way. The hair-shirt cliché of the green movement in the 1970s took a long time to shake off because it carried negative connotations that often demanded personal sacrifice rather than offer positive choices.

When the guardians of power choose to ignore, or pay lip service to, significant and urgent calls for change, they risk alienating parts of their community or electorate. Often this leads to a contagious sense of disenchantment and anger that, in turn, gives rise to public demonstrations, tactical campaigning and front-page headlines. This confrontational model of people versus government was never truly the DNA of a democracy that promised government by the people. The solution is to propose alternative models and roadmaps towards the future. But when it comes to the question of human rights – environment, gender, identity – the fight is not over.

A survey conducted by the Architects’ Journal in 2016 added further data supporting the observation that RIBA is struggling to stay in tune with its members.¹⁷ Although there is evidence the body has begun to consult more widely, the decision to create a series of subgroups (e.g. Architects for Change, Small Practice Group, Sustainable Futures Group, Traditional Architecture Group), all of whom represent different aspects of ‘the problem’, risks alienating members further by ring-fencing minorities. It seems that the model of satellites orbiting the sun is no longer a useful or current mode of practice. A healthy democratic architecture culture needs to celebrate diversity as a central aim: the governance needs to operate transparently and openly; council must show that they are listening, and they need to effect radical change. It has to reset its ambitions to become a different kind of organisation – one that shouts louder, waves its banner higher, and cares about people and the environment. By contrast Stonewall are very clear about their mandate:

Wouldn’t it be great if this applied to architects and architecture as well? Right now, there is a long way to go. When asked to comment on the results of the 2015 survey into LGBT attitudes within the construction industry, spokesperson Matteo Lissana talks about the huge resistance to change and the struggle for gender equality. He refers to outdated modes of practice that choose to compartmentalise diversity, ultimately alienating a vast talent pool. This sounds much like RIBA’s format for focus groups. As further evidence of how out of touch the profession of architecture has become, not one company from Stonewall’s annual Workplace Equality index is from the construction industry. Yet all of the Armed Forces are included. While RIBA is reported to have been ‘disappointed’, this hardly suggests a call to arms. The survey also reported that only 27% of LGBT employees feel comfortable being open about their sexuality at client meetings. Once again we see the failure of our profession to take on the challenges facing architects in society.

Coming Back Down to Earth

Having a down-to-earth attitude suggests one’s feet are on the ground; being pragmatic, practical, and realistic. It is the opposite of having one’s head in the clouds. When it comes to understanding the challenges faced by climate change and gender equality, architects need to stand firmly on the earth: both are issues of human rights. We need to recognise that individually we are not able to ‘solve the problem’, but that we can still influence change, we can still be effective, and together we can have a voice. With reference to climate change, what’s at stake is not just the shape of our own towns and cities and lifestyles, but the whole ecosystem. It’s the nature of our planet. Over the last 200 years, we have accelerated the destruction of the environment to the point where it is now in peril. We are finding out that as a species we have become the architects of our own catastrophe.

Visiting the This Changes Everything website, we see a movement gathering traction and groups acting under the banner of ‘Beautiful Solutions’:

This inspires us to make a choice. Do we carry on, business as usual, or do we strive for change, seeing it as a new opportunity? Do we challenge our institutions and our politicians or do we continue to indulge in self-reflexive arguments? Can we learn from the creative strategies of the LGBT activists who have fought hard for equality within the community? I suggest we can and we must. It’s time to come back down to earth and act as the architects of our collective destiny. It is what we were educated to do. We can change the future.

The final word goes to Gerod Rody, founder of Out for Sustainability, who sums up his own experience thus: