Hidden prejudices and images of self-esteem

A major though neglected factor behind the choice of materials is their emotional attractiveness to the user. Wealthy people pay a lot for “friendly” materials so that their surroundings give back emotional nourishment. Self-built housing follows the same unconscious principles, using inexpensive and discarded materials in imaginative ways to create an emotionally satisfying environment (arrogantly dismissed as merely “primitive” artistic expression). Contrast this with the hostile surfaces regularly chosen for social housing in an effort to make those structures more durable. Such “hard” materials and surfaces give the impression of dominance and rejection. It is possible to create durable yet friendly surfaces, even though planners have not thought it worthwhile to take the trouble to do that for social housing. 

To complicate things further, the issue of desired building materials runs straight into hidden prejudices and images of self-esteem, often culturally specific and perhaps even locally particular. Controlling agencies in some cases ban what they consider to be “low status” building materials, such as Adobe (whose surface is both “friendly” and easily shaped, unlike concrete). But in many cases, it is the owner/builders themselves who shun those adaptable materials in regions where they are used in traditional construction. Hassan Fathy simply could not get poor people to accept living in traditional mud houses (Fathy, 1973). This is a major problem worldwide. It’s the image — representing the despised past instead of the promised utopian future.

The ultimate solution to this problem must be cultural. Citizens must rediscover pride in their own heritage and building traditions, and the great value and pleasure they afford. At the same time, the myth of a utopian technological approach must be exposed for what it is — a marketing image meant for the gullible public — while the real benefits of modernity are shown to be entirely compatible with traditional practices (e.g. plumbing, electricity, appliances, etc). In this way, we can regenerate the “collective intelligence” embodied in cultural traditions, and infuse it with the best new adaptations. 

As the author Jorge Luis Borges put it: “between the traditional and the new, or between order and adventure, there is no real opposition; and what we call tradition today is a knitwork of centuries of adventure”.

When a government builds social housing, it wants to solve two problems at once: to house people who lack the means to house themselves, and to use up industrial materials so as to stimulate the economy. There is a very good reason for the latter, as the government is plugged into the largest manufacturers of industrial building materials. It is in the interest of the economy to consume these materials in sponsored projects. Nevertheless, that may not be the best solution for the housing. There are two reasons for this: one having to do with economics, and the other with emotional connection.

The competition between permanence and adaptability

An owner-built favela uses cheap, disposable materials such as wood, cardboard, corrugated metal sheets, rocks, plastic, left-over concrete blocks, etc. While there is an obvious deficiency with the impermanence of such materials (which turns catastrophic during storms or flooding), their tremendous advantage is their adaptability. Owner-builders have an enormous freedom of determining the shape and details of their dwellings. They utilize that design freedom to adapt the built structure to human sensibilities. That is not possible when a government builds house modules out of a much more durable material such as reinforced concrete. People must be able to make changes as a matter of principle. Here we have the opposition between permanence/rigidity and impermanence/freedom, which influences the form of buildings.

Social housing should be made of permanent materials, whereas cheap, fragile buildings are a disservice to people. Favelas built out of sticks and cardboard are unacceptable models to follow. Nevertheless, we wish to preserve as much as possible the DESIGN FREEDOM inherent in using more impermanent materials. That is essential to guarantee the design adjustments that will generate a living geometry. In the best self-built houses, every scrap of material is utilized in a very precise manner so as to create living urban fabric — a sophisticated process that compares with the greatest architectural achievements anywhere. The only solution we see to this conflict is for the government to provide appropriate materials (permanent, but also easy to arrange, cut, and shape) that the users can then employ in constructing or modifying their own homes. 

We always come back to the competition between permanence and adaptability. Adaptive changes to form are akin to repair and self-healing in an organism, but are often misinterpreted as a degradation of the project. In fact, the geometry is trying to heal itself (through human action) after the imposition of unnatural, alien forms. This is a natural organic evolution, and should not be discouraged simply because it contradicts an architect’s “pure” vision of how people SHOULD live. We most emphatically condemn as inhuman the present practice of forbidding any modifications to social housing by their residents. Tied in to our suggestions for ownership, we uphold the fundamental right for an owner/resident to modify his/her dwelling to any extent without impinging on the rights of neighbors or the public space.

While the original intent of legislation forbidding changes to one’s dwelling was sound, it never achieved its goal. Its aim was to legally prevent the destruction of buildings that the government had invested money in. This has never worked, however. Buildings that are hated by their residents (because of their hostile geometry and surfaces) have been systematically vandalized and destroyed, and no legislation has been able to prevent this. The ever-escalating use of hard materials only led to fortress-like housing units, but their residents hate them even more and eventually destroy them. Oppressive surfaces and spaces damage one’s sense of wellbeing, thus provoking a hostile reaction. The solution lies in a different direction altogether: make housing units that are loved by their residents, who will then maintain them instead of destroying them.

Using cheap and ubiquitously available materials

In his project in Mexicali, Mexico, Alexander introduced an innovative method of creating bricks on site using a hand-operated press and local earth (Alexander et al., 1985). He emphasized this as a crucial aspect of the project, even though concrete blocks were readily available. One reason was to establish a local supply for all future residents. Concrete blocks are not expensive, but they still set up a financial threshold. Another reason is that they also narrow the design possibilities. Standard concrete blocks lead to standard structural configurations, ruling out some of the adaptive shapes and processes that Alexander wished to introduce. 

There are opportunities for the building industry to participate through government directed efforts in these new social housing projects, by providing industrialized elements that can be included with versatility in many cases. One of the authors (EPP) has developed a model for self-construction using cheap and ubiquitously available materials such as rammed earth for the perimeters, together with the introduction of low-cost industrialized sanitary modules that include water storage, toilet, sink and shower along with a filter for gray-water treatment for recycling. The proposed modules may also have structural uses, and include solar cells for electricity and solar panels for water heating and even cooking. These industrialized modules can be massively produced, lowering costs and providing technology, while at the same time allowing the necessary flexibility and freedom of design and evolution of the units.

One of us (AMD) has investigated this concept more recently for a project in Kingston, Jamaica. This “wet appliance” cost-effectively delivers the sanitary and mechanical cores, the most expensive elements of a home, while combining the ability of homeowners to build their own well-adapted dwelling.

We should mention a case where such industrial modules were reduced in complexity so that the building could be initially more adaptive to social needs. Alexander in 1980 worked on building social housing in India, and considered using a prefabricated concrete box containing plumbing for bath, toilet, and kitchen (Alexander, 2001-2005: Book 2, page 320). This solution followed successful earlier projects by Balkrishna V. Doshi. It soon became clear, however, that building a solid plinth (a platform representing a traditional pattern) for each house was actually more important in the building sequence (because it was a priority for the residents) than having the plumbing box. So Alexander decided to spend the limited available money on the terrace, leaving a groove for future plumbing additions. Residents were able to use communal water and toilets until they could build their own facilities. The platform was more vital to the family’s life than the plumbing box.