THE INTERACTIONIST CITY
The
demolition of Ray Bradbury’s house in the Cheviot Hills section of Los Angeles
in January set off a flurry of commentary over a variety of social media. At the heart of it there seemed to be a
common theme: people don’t want to see their city change. Each time a building we love is torn down,
our hearts break just a little. How do
we deal with the anxiety over the changing city? Conventional theories of urban development do
not offer a satisfying answer, nor do architectural histories, which treat the
evolution of the built environment as a succession of styles tied to political
or economic trends or, alternatively, to a particular lineage of architectural icons
operating within the context of that city.
In
the final analysis, these approaches are inherently retrospective and thus
insufficient in apprehending change as it happens. A closer, more sustained look reveals that
cities evolve not in a series of large movements but in small, incremental ones
– in fact, very small: it turns out that a city evolves building by
building. Each project, no matter how
seemingly insignificant, changes the city just a little. Furthermore, each
building is the product of a specific interaction of particular individuals,
one that bears imprint of each participant, and thus a unique response to
economic, social, or programmatic imbalance perceived by each of those
individuals. The city is constantly
evolving, creating not so much an archive of successive architects or styles as
an archive of successive interactions.
Nowhere is this phenomenon more palpable than Los Angeles – where change
almost always proceeds from the bottom up – which is why it might be called the
Interactionist City.
***
How
do these interactions occur? What
initiates them? In her book Acquiring Genomes late evolutionary
biologist Lynn Margulis echoes the translation of Lord Kelvin’s second law of
thermodynamics from physics to biology to be re-read as “Nature abhors a
gradient.” Applying this law to systems
both living and non-living, she believed that all organisms are systems of
systems in a flexible hierarchy occurring at all scales at all times time, each
of which is concerned primarily with overcoming any gradient it perceives. “we must begin thinking of organisms as
communities,” she writes, ”and communities are ecological entities.” She goes on to say, “As natural selection
filters out the many to preserve the remaining few, those few ever more
efficiently use environmental energy to ‘purposefully’ (her quotes) reduce
their gradients.”
The
importance of gradients is also emphasized by Nick Lane in his book, Life Ascending. In that volume he explain the work of Mike Russell, the iconoclastic
scientist currently at Cal Tech’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena,
California, in particular his study of the sea vents in Tynagh, Ireland where
he observed that “bubbling alkaline
fluids into acidic oceans produced a natural proton gradient” between carbon
dioxide and hydrogen that, through chemiosmosis, created organic molecules as
well as ATP, and eventually proteins and DNA, the building blocks of life
itself.
Lane
is convinced that if Russell and his colleagues are correct—and he thinks they
are – that all life proceeds from such a gradient or imbalance; more, he
contends that contrary to the conventional understanding of entropy,
equilibrium is never achieved. Instead,
persistent imbalance is what fuels interactions in all systems, both living and
non-living. DNA, while remarkably good
at replicating itself, does produce enough variation, generation by generation,
to give evolution options when faced with imbalance. Thus a species evolves, mutation by mutation,
an iterative process that, like imbalance itself, never ends as each mutation
is tested against the stark reality of natural selection. This is something that is hardwired into the
genes of all living things; but could it apply non-living systems as well?
***
In
a recent article in the Science Times
section of The New York Times, George
Johnson wrote an article, Creation, in
the Eye of the Beholder, in which he states, “the brains and hands that
design civilizations artifacts are products of the same evolutionary algorithm
– random generation and testing” that drives evolution itself.
Following
this logic, then everything we produce would adhere to this algorithm, even
things as ephemeral as stories. In
Hollywood movies, for example, the algorithm seems embedded in the standard
story structure: protagonists begin the
story with an imbalance they are unaware of; they have a particular desire for
something or someone but are blocked from access to it; a crisis occurs that
takes them from their ordinary world; they attempt to return to it using
whatever means are at their disposal, and yet fail each time; at the midpoint,
they hit an obstacle that raises the stakes for them, making their goal even
more desperate; they then embark on a new course of action that seems to hold
promise – until it doesn’t – and the protagonists are defeated and hit bottom;
it is at their lowest point, when they have lost all hope, that they have an
epiphany; their goal shifts from pursuing what they thought they wanted to what
they actually need. They prepare
themselves for battle, engage in a protracted final conflict, and emerge
victorious.
So,
after a long and heated succession of trials and errors, a new equilibrium is
established for a protagonist – one unimaginable at the outset – and balance is
restored. Great in movies, to be sure
but – going back to Nick Lane – not in real life, where true equilibrium is
never achieved.
Another
window into the workings of this evolutionary algorithm can be seen in the
field of entrepreneurial innovation. MIT
professor Eugene Fitzgerald, with colleagues Andreas Wankerl and Carl Schramm have
identified a very specific process that they feel delivers innovation most
efficiently. In their book, Inside Real Innovation, they distinguish
between “incremental innovation” and “fundamental innovation,” the former is
more like fine-tuning an existing technology, the latter is more revolutionary. Focusing on fundamental innovation, they
identify a team made up of individuals – not groups – that must be in constant
interaction for a true breakthrough to occur, each individual representing
three different points of view and thus bringing their expertise to bear:
technology, market, and implementation.
The
person representing technology is most often an inventor of a new product or
process that addresses a perceived imbalance and may or may not have an
application; the person who represents the market is someone who understands
what will work in the marketplace and how the technology might be embraced by
the public at some point in the future; the person representing implementation
is the one who knows how to connect the technology to the market, how to make
the invention functional, and how to deliver it to the market.
What
is compelling is how much importance is stressed on these three people
interacting. It is a long, often 15-year
process to bring a technology to market, and that time is spent creating
iteration after iteration then subjecting them to the critique of each member
of the team. Only if a product or
process can survive this relentless gauntlet of judgment will it ever see the
light of day.
The
key point that they stress is that for the interaction to really work, each of
the three team members first must respect each other; they must also have some awareness
and experience of the other two points of view: it is rarely a productive
interaction if one member is unable to compromise due to an inability to
comprehend another’s stance. That said,
the other key point is that each of the team members must have a strongly-held
opinion; and that they must fight for it.
***
The
creation of a building routinely undergoes a similar process: an interaction
between the developer – who initiates the project due to a perceived imbalance
in the market; the architect – who addresses programmatic problems through
material and spatial manipulation; and the contractor – who negotiates between
the aesthetic aspirations of the architect with the budget constraints of the
developer. The three participants do battle,
all fighting for the best design according to their particular criteria. The
building is the byproduct of this three-way conflict, and it is the
accumulation of these byproducts that forms the city.
Thus,
going back to Margulis, if all organisms are systems of systems in a flexible
hierarchy occurring at all scales at all times time, each of which is concerned
primarily with overcoming any gradient it perceives, then the city could be
seen as such an organism. Though most
urban problems seem to be large in scale and largely unaddressed, the solutions
seem to come from countless interactions that are small in scale and largely
invisible to those not involved.
Sustained
observation reveals the Interactionist Protocol:
IMBALANCE
(1)
An
imbalance is perceived by an individual, which leads to an emotional reaction.
OPINION
(2)
The
emotional reaction induces an opinion as to how to address the perceived
imbalance.
ACTION
(3)
The
opinion often sparks a course of action; if the scale of that action requires
it, an interaction is initiated.
INTERACTION
(4)
The
interaction proceeds, pitting criteria against criteria, most often through
trial and error, toward a specific goal.
RESOLUTION
(5)
The
imbalance is resolved to the satisfaction of the interactors.
REPEAT
(6)
A
new imbalance is perceived and the process is repeated, more often than not by a
new set of interactors.
While
the goal is always to achieve a new equilibrium by solving a specific problem, this
leads without fail to new problems at various scales and along different
timelines. This aligns with Nick Lane’s concept of dynamic equilibrium, where
true balance remains ever elusive. In
the Interactionist City, an imbalance could be misread, an opinion off base, an
action inappropriate, an interaction hijacked by charisma or money – any of
which would lead to an ineffective resolution and a new imbalance.
Is
there a way to devise more comprehensive solutions that diminish the effect
that changes to one system have on related systems? Is there away to reduce subsequent
imbalance? Perhaps in the future, when
the promise of the digital revolution is fully realized. But today, in the Interactionist City,
imbalance is welcomed because it sparks emotional reaction, transforms opinion
into action, propels heated interaction, and compels us to make better – and
more human – cities.
***
In
the end, the frenzy surrounding the demolition of Ray Bradbury’s house
diminished considerably when it was learned that the person that bought the
house was Thom Mayne of the architecture firm Morphosis. Mayne, who is known for aggressive,
iconoclastic work across the globe, was initially rumored to favor a design
incongruous with the memory of Bradbury, the writer of such classics as Fahrenheit 451 and The Martian Chronicles. Instead,
a spokesperson for Morphosis stated that this was to be the Mayne’s own home
and that it would be set in a garden with a wall surrounding it etched with an
homage to Bradbury. The building is
scheduled to start construction in 2017.
Did
the media attention to this incident influence Mayne’s design? Doubtful. Given his history of mining deep
context for design inspiration, it is no wonder that Mayne’s design already intended
to honor the beloved author, though perhaps not in the way that local residents
had hoped. However, it was Mayne’s
rhetoric that ultimately won them over, if not through the logic of the
argument, then in creating the sudden and urgent need to flee his verbal
quicksand while they still could.
Which
goes to show that the anxiety of the changing city does diminish over time, eventually
leading to acceptance of a new status quo – that is, until someone knocks down
another cherished building and starts the cycle all over again.
OBSERVATIONS
1. Imbalance occurs at all scales and at
all times. It can be physical (hunger),
relational (infidelity), social (keeping up with the Joneses), economic (a
business opportunity), political (an oppressive regime), even conceptual
(architectural theory), etc. When an
imbalance is perceived and an emotional reaction takes place, it is often a
primal, pre-verbal response. The
imbalance can be something as small as an itchy nose or as large as the rise in
student debt, but the feeling generated is the same: the imbalance perceived by
an individual requires action to be resolved.
2. Opinion emerges formed by criteria
embedded within the individual’s egosystem
– itself a system of systems bringing together the entire history of an
individual’s experiences, traumas, education, relationships, etc.; Those
criteria are thus an incomplete and potentially flawed, and are further
compromised by the influence of affinity in all its forms.
3. In Microcosmos,
Lynn Margulis with Dorion Sagan contend that all real change in a system occurs
at a scale micro to it. Talking about
forest ecology, they argue that it is in the signaling and exchange within the
microbiome at the forest floor – the fungi, algae, lichen, and other microorganisms
– that the shapes what we see in the macrobiome – the trees, shrubs, the
insects and fauna.
Building, Planning and
Zoning codes outline the physical parameters of a project and the budget
dictates the limits of the scope. This
might be analogous to the physical substructure of a forest: the bedrock, the
mountains, the streams. The
socio-economic conditions (as defined by the business opportunity present
divided by the gathered opinions of any and all in affected area) might be akin
to the weather. We then would form the
microbiome of the city. In the end it is
the role of the critical interactors in the microbiome – the makeup of which
differs with every project – to take in all opinions and form a sort of
“criteria soup” that digests all of them into a coherent solution. Thus is created the genome of things in which the DnA of all participants is present in
the final product.
4. Affinity can be very attractive. We are drawn to things like us we like people
places and things that reinforce our world-view. Is affinity is the enemy of innovation?
Affinity is a positive force when is brings people together to develop a common
vision; but affinity that creates hostility between groups is counterproductive
in the evolution of a city. In the
Interactionist City both can occur, but the primary arena where affinity is
felt is in the interactions themselves.
Aspirational affinity will pull some to agree with those they admire,
while the affinity of belonging will compel some people to buckle under merely
to get along.
The main obstacle to an
effective interaction is that people with opposing opinions will not listen to
each other and would rather defend their criteria to protect their world
view. The fact is, people feel better
when they are surrounded by evidence and opinions that support their world
view. However, certainty comes from
fixed criteria, which inevitably leads to stasis.
William Goldman famously
said, “No one knows anything,” which is as true for successful movies as it is
for companies, relationships, or cities, because when they get too cumbersome
to innovate, their criteria become fixed, therefore unable to adapt, blind to a
changing reality. Success mixes with affinity to create an entity that it is so
large it lacks agility and is less likely to alter criteria in response to prevailing
conditions. Affinity causes these
entities to misread their environment both due to – and to reinforce – their
outdated criteria. However with each
subsequent iteration in the Interactionist Protocol, the extent of the
misreading diminishes.
5. The iterative process may reduce the
misreading of current conditions by entities laden with bureaucratic inertia,
yet — to borrow from Inside Real
Innovation – it still produces more incremental than fundamental change. True breakthrough comes when the shift
occurs, when a new criteria emerges, which starts with an individual who sees
things just a little differently and who trust his or her instincts enough to
survive the inevitable counter-assault of affinity.
Should the role of
affinity somehow be removed from the Interactionist Protocol to facilitate the
acceptance of the new criteria? The
obvious answer would be yes; but since “nobody knows anything,” it might just
be the inherent imbalance of affinity that inspires the innovator with the new
criteria to fight even more passionately for the cause. Perhaps it is in this battle that the
innovator is able to fine-tune the new criteria until its inevitability becomes
clear to all.
6. Of course, cities move at a much slower
pace. Even with passion, even after a
breakthrough new project is completed, urban equilibrium is never achieved. In fact, even after a building is built, it is
constantly adjusted to adapt to user needs, what Lars Lerup meant by “building the unfinished.” But even so, as a city evolves – at all
scales and at all times – the microbiome
is at work, ceaselessly, remaking itself, building by building.
REFERENCES
Aldo
Rossi, Architecture of the City (MIT
Press, 1982)
Reyner
Banham, Los Angeles, The Architecture of
Four Ecologies (Penguin, 1971)
Mike
Davis, City of Quartz (Verso, 1990)
Norman
M. Klein, The History of Forgetting
(Verso 1997)
Dana
Cuff, The Provisional City (MIT
Press, 2000)
Doug
Suisman, Los Angeles Boulevard (Los
Angeles Forum for Architecture & Urban Design, 1989; ORO Editions 2014)
Kazys
Varnelis, Editor, The Infrastructural
City (Actar, 2008)
Manuel
DeLanda, A New Philospohy of Society
(Bloomsbury, 2006)
Lynn
Margulis and Dorion Sagan, Acquiring
Genomes (Basic Books, 2002)
Nick
Lane, Life Ascending (Norton, 2009)
George
Johnson, Creation, in the Eye of the
Beholder (The New York Times, May
20, 2014)
Clayton
M. Christiansen, The Innovator’s Dilemma,
(Harper Business, 2010)
Eugene
Fitzgerald, Andreas Wankerl, and Carl Schramm, Inside Real Innovation (World Scientific, 2011)
Margaret
Heffernan, Willful Blindness
(Bloomsbury, 2011)
Lynn
Margulis and Dorion Sagan, Microcosmos (University
of California Press, 1986)
Robert
McKee, STORY (Harper Collins, 1997)
William
Goldman, Adventures in the Screen Trade
(Warner Books, 1983)
Lars
Lerup, Building the Unfinished (Sage
Library of Social Research, 1977)