The killing of public joy
The killing of public joy
We are standing in front of a massive challenge; we need to shift the way we co-live with our planet. We have collected theories, thoughts and suggestions about how to do this over the last decades, and there has been a massive push forward on discussing and raising awareness of sustainable issues and solutions. Governments and cities are working on joint forces to frame and understand, to solve and to find necessary pathways. Private investment companies are teaming up with universities and start-ups to move ideas and synergies in the direction needed. All whilst the media is covering the processes so that it can reach citizens and inspire us all for better ways of living. So far so good. One could imagine. But here comes my concern. Does this very vital and wanted sustainable transformation need to feel so unemotional? Do serious problems need to be dressed in serious shapes to best communicate and massively impact our daily decisions?
We all live a very brief moment on earth, a very very brief one. That moment should be a beautiful experience filled with both ups and downs, but with a general feeling of joy. A joy of living with all the adventures and excitements that comes with life itself. However, I have a feeling our collective joy is decreasing in society. We have been told our planet is sick and that we are to blame, we live inside growing unequal economic structures, we’ve been through a pandemic that killed both lives and souls and now we’re experiencing political agony and war. It makes it hard to talk about joy. And even more so, to feel it.
Joy is therapy for society. Through joy we can collectively attend to shared traumas and democratically increase mental wellbeing. Through joy there is a feeling of belonging, a much needed feeling for the human kind. Our brains are deeply wired and we function at our very best while we’re connected to others. If you spend some time and think about how many people you meet each day, and on how many others you depend on from when you wake up in the morning until you go to bed in the evening, the number is notably high. We affect each other through emotions, energy fields, facial expressions and language.
When I think of a vivid joyful city I think of Madrid or Bangkok or Rome but maybe mostly of New York in the 60ies. Obviously I didn’t experience the city myself and I’m only creating my own images and ideas of what it could have been like. I see photographs of street life, people outside. They use the urban structures, they live in public. Kids are playing where cars should be. Grown up men are playing sports in a temporary setting. Groups of people have pulled chairs outside to discuss and share a moment together. These all look like joyful spaces.
At the same time, I know for fact that New York at the time was suffering from enormous drug problems, many didn’t have work and if you look beyond the joyful faces on the photos you see destroyed city landscapes and urban suffering. It is therefore completely logical that New York city wanted to transform and build a better future for its habitants. The city got cleaned up over the next few decades, but with homes improving and comfort increasing, the need for taking care of each other in public spaces disappeared. When your home is clean and safe, why not just stay in? Add on the digital and technical revolution with screens in all forms and sizes, and it's easy to see that to be outside has become an unusual habit we no longer need.
Kids have stopped playing in the streets. Not only do they not know how to, but the traffic has become too fast and too dangerous. Most parents don’t let younger children out alone at all. People don’t pull out their chairs as they used to. To place objects in public space is nowadays illegal in some places and in Sweden for example, you need to apply for a permit from the police. The chair you want to place outside will cost you 870 Swedish kroners.
Simultaneously, we have lost common spaces to private investors in a world now heavily organised around a one sided market. For a long time architecture has boomed and flourished hand in hand with global capitalism and growth. Impressive architecture with glossy facades or sculpture-like features have been the goal to reach status as a successful architectural firm. Now we see that a constant societal growth with the economy as its epicentre is neither a good idea, nor workable at all. It is not through economic growth and materialistic consumption that we will find a future balance. We need to disrupt our alarmingly fixed mindsets.
Streets and public space have changed from inspiring arenas of shared life to solely functioning as logic infrastructure. We need them to be able to travel from a to b. We need them to provide us with all we desperately want to consume. We have them in between buildings because we know that we should. We see organised cities full of flat surfaces, but lo and behold if you would use it for skateboarding rather than for strollers and wheelchairs. We have created what I would call a grey urban life.
When will streets be joyful connectors again? When will they be common places for culture, minds and souls? When will they be spaces where life is, and feels, meaningful?
While the focus for most sustainable change often rests at the scale of governments and industry, changes at the level of individuals, households and communities are of profoundly greater importance than most people appreciate. Nearly two-thirds of global emissions are linked to both direct and indirect forms of human consumption. How can architects create spaces that inspire a mental shift? Can we design cities based on life, not consumption? What is our future role as city makers to create spaces for joy? Could we use all of our forces to create something with possibly less physical constructions but with an enormous societal architecture that could massively change our shared urban lives?
A truly democratic country gives freedom to all to think and act. To act within strictly given frames is a false democracy where some of us believe we can decide for others. Joyful spaces need to be free, they need to be spaces for freedom.
