Otherness through living cities ?

Architecture and, more broadly, urban planning, have a part to play today in the future of the world. Taking their place on soil where every cubic metre is home to more living creatures than there are human beings on earth, building with materials that affect the quality of the environment, they are now perceived as among the human activities that are causing damage to our world. Should they now be stripped of the right to build on the grounds that the material used for construction, whether we like it or not, damages and depletes the earth? If so, where will future humans live, how will the world’s displaced find a home? Should we stop time in its tracks, however imperfect the current state of things? In order to escape guilt, or at least a charge of complicity, architects are called upon to act ethically. But should ethical action be understood as simple obedience to the principles that govern the architect’s activities, a sort of professional manual to help them act in circumstances where choice is possible, more a project methodology than a genuine moral compass?

In the race for an ecological transformation in the processes of planning cities and territories, data and their use have become a universal focus of attention. In the desire to establish an equilibrium between city and nature, collecting data on every aspect of the living world plays an essential role in developing the in-depth knowledge from which balanced development – balance between the needs of humans and of nonhumans – can emerge. Notably introduced in the United States in the aftermath of the Second World War by the landscape architect Ian McHarg, the purpose of this method is to establish an ecological model based on the accumulation of spatialised data on both the environment and manifestations of human activity in order not only to identify areas of compatibility between the two but also with the aim of mutual enrichment. The aim is to prevent ecosystem destabilisation, which is a cause of environmental entropy (i.e. deterioration in the organisation of the living world), but also to go further by pursuing the goal of negentropy through creative symbiosis (i.e. an increase in the complexity of the organisation of the living world), consistent with the life process that has been going on since the formation of the Earth. Geology, hydrology, fauna, flora, topology, natural risks, but also industrial activities, landscape qualities, population health, etc. are all data that together constitute a collection that has the potential to become the template for an ecological approach that serves the needs of both humans and nonhumans. Let us stress here that the richness of the method lies not in the simple accumulation of data, but in identifying relations between the categories and the possibilities for negentropic change. It is worth noting that information technology, then still in its infancy, was very quickly recruited to the task of serious data processing (also giving birth to GIS, the geographical information system, which is now in widespread use in spatial planning). The issue of the capacity for a scientific description of the world is at the heart of the system and raises the question of its own limits. Indeed, formulated in this way, a fully ecological project would only be possible with perfect knowledge, in other words any action would be conditional on knowing absolutely everything in advance.

Nonetheless, it has to be said that not all societies have waited for computerised data processing in order to treat the living world and their environment with respect. Scientific knowledge is far from superfluous, but it cannot fill the gap between the subject and the world, because its function is precisely to construct a boundary between the two, between observer and observed. Is it not time to reverse the method, in other words to see the environment as a full subject, guarantee the same rights as other subjects? This perspective removes the requirement for total knowledge of reality, which has proved to be a dead end. With this barrier removed, it is now possible to embark upon a fully ethical path, since it is one founded on a relationship between subjects and on respect for subjects. The recent news on the legal rights of things, notably the New Zealand Parliament’s recognition in 2017 of the Whanganui River as a person like any other New Zealander, is an instantiation of these profound changes that are altering our relationship to the world. It should be emphasised here that these legal rights granted to “things” have been granted in former Western colonies, at the demand of so-called “indigenous” populations. Should not the word “environment”, which suggests an anthropocentric perspective – with human beings at the centre and the rest around –give way to a holistic perception of the world, i.e. one that is fully egalitarian? Otherwise, why the awareness of our presence in the world? For the architect, this change is having a profound impact on project methods: there is no longer the architect on one side, as the subject of the project, and the environment on the other, as the project’s object. As an agent of construction whose effects on the wellbeing of the world are now extensively documented, each of the architect’s acts is decisive. The architect now has a wider ethical responsibility to the entire living world. As a result, he or she has acquired an obligation.

In order to perform their role as designers of living spaces, architects are now obligated to use tools that do not objectify the world. Indeed, the ethics of the project lie not so much in the scientific incorporation of reality into the project, as in consideration for the world. In other words, there is no need to wait for knowledge of the world and a form of technological progress in order to act. Acting ethically means entering into a direct, full and immediate relationship with the real without relying on knowledge that creates distance by interposing tools between the subject and the environment. It also means considering the Other (other people, other creatures, the world) in all its dimensions, including those that lie outside our knowledge. The ethical project’s touch upon the world is light. It recognises the world without necessarily being cognizant of it. It is an attitude does not claim to know the world, but seeks as a principle to give priority to the world in order the better to settle into it with absolute respect.

In consequence, is there not an ethical need for an equivalent in the world of the architect, i.e. for architects to engage with their own bodies so that they can become one with other bodies? The idea of a rethink of the architect’s tools offers a glimpse of a renewal in design methods and the possibility of another way of being in the world. Full engagement through the senses of touch, smell, hearing, or even taste, alongside sight – up to now by far the dominant sense – offers possibilities for new and wider relations with the living world. In parallel, the consideration of physiological functions and in particular the relations between living beings and biotopes is opening up fruitful avenues for architectural creation.