Thoughts on Architecture and Consumerism

Several years ago, we read The Maltese Falcon for book club. Since I saw the movie before reading the book, all of the dialogue sounded like Humphrey Bogart in my head while reading. The book ended on the note that there will always be another race for another treasure around the world. It was better for Sam Spade to stay home and not participate, because the end will never justify the means. I felt like this while working in commercial construction. It bugged me on a very fundamental level that I "helped" to build one of those ubiquitous chain restaurants that people flock to, spend their hard earned money on mediocre unhealthy food, while in 15 years the structure will be torn down to make way for something else in the most wasteful way possible. Everything in my architectural and environmental values screamed out against the abomination to our collective humanity, much like most people react to Donald Trump. I found a glimmer of hope. I recently read The Architecture of Happiness by Alain de Botton. In the book (which I bought used from an Amazon bookseller), he espouses the differences between good and bad architecture. While most of this is opinion, and a lot is drawn from the fine arts world concerning balance and construction materials, this book gave me hope that our human failings could be overcome and something amazing could be built. Amidst the backdrop of famous projects, both ancient and modern, de Botton uses verbiage and illustrations from the art world to accentuate his points about the ascetics of having architecture as art in our lives. After working in the desert of urban sprawl, his words soothed my thirsty soul with the idea that our society is not merely comprised of sheep to be led, but that there are those who would build something grand that could last and speak to generations. While this idea intrigues me along with the thought that my children will inherit and inhabit the property that I worked so hard to acquire, I know this to not be the case. Seeing how buildings are built with fast techniques, materials that are cheap and not meant to last generations, and laborers who are more interested in a pay check in the present to support their families, gives rise to de Botton's final idea that bad architecture is a failing of human psychology. The idea that architecture, like art, shows what our society is lacking is a rather shaky argument and perhaps not one seen through the lens of consumerism. The projects that I directly worked with project managers and craftsmen on are not testaments to beauty, but testaments to the almighty dollar and ways for those who are already wealthy to be come wealthier. Sure, they provide jobs, not only to the craftspeople who helped build them, but also to those who will work in the space. The clock is ticking. Soon the newest hot spot with the trendiest decor will be pronounced passe by the people that once lauded them vogue. They will be torn down or remodeled to make way for the next newest fashion. So what was once kind of grand, will now be rubble in a landfill in a few short years. In all, I do not want to contribute to this sort of waste, wasteland, or economy that refuses to conserve. The art that de Botton speaks so highly of is soon forgotten when something different comes along. In the book, De Botton forgets to account for money in his entire narrative. Being in construction accounting, let me assure the gentle readers that cash is the number one driver of why we have ugly buildings, perfectly fine buildings torn down and replaced with new also perfectly fine buildings. Because those who hire contractors for these sorts of projects know that we consumers will flock to their buildings, complete with flashy facades. They can charge money for goods or services. It has a kind of Field of Dreams if you build it mentality that usually works. The flashier the better. But we as consumers flock to these places and don't demand better architecture or quality of food for ourselves or our families. It is this kind of laziness across our society that has caused a sense of complacency with our collective lot. Bad architecture is a psychological failing, driven by money and we as consumers are in fear that if we don't eat at that ubiquitous chain restaurant, then we're somehow lacking as a people. That just isn't the case. We deserve better, and need to demand better. But, like many bloggers, I am a solitary voice trapped in a vacuum of consumerism. I can choose to not eat at that chain, write many more blog posts like this one, yet my message will not be heeded, understood, respected, or otherwise taken to heart when hungry kids are in the back of the car and food is easy. But what I do know, in 10-15 years, that restaurant will not exist. But I will still be here, blogging on about my cat, social issues that I cannot change alone, and other interests that will surly be around in the next decade, along with the bad architecture that accompanies them.