Impossible Utopia

07-09-2012, 01:15

In the colloquial understanding of Utopia, it is generally understood that utopia is the ‘perfect place’ – the ideal human living environment, if you prefer. The idea of a utopic architecture was a subject of much optimism in post-war modernism; subsequently of much disappointment and anger after the failures of modernism; finally it has been reduced mostly to a subject of ridicule. Regardless, it has remained a subject of interest.

Utopia, as imagined by the architectural establishment, is largely based around the idea of building design correcting social wrongs: architecture which solves all problems. This idea is ludicrous – not just in the modern understanding where we admit our inability to create such a perfect architecture – but absolutely fundamentally. To see why, let’s take a brief (and wildly simplified) look at the complete history of architecture:

• Early man begins as a largely defenseless, nomadic social animal, living in small groups. At this point, architecture as a concept is non-existent.
• Using superior intellect, man develops tools which allow him to defend a territory against aggressive wild animals. This allows him to stay in a semi permanent location which provides him with shelter from the elements, such as a cave or similar edifice. Architecture as shelter is born.
• Man develops basic construction techniques, depending on available materials, which allow him to build a shelter in a convenient location. Architecture becomes artificial.
• Being able to create long term shelter in a convenient place, settlements begin to form for the mutual benefit of the groups involved. Safety in numbers and the ability to share out tasks ensure that larger settlements are generally more successful.
• Building techniques become sophisticated enough to provide protection from wild animals.
• Settlements continue to grow and become more efficient as division of labour continues. However, after a point disorder becomes an issue and hierarchical systems of organization (early governments) are implemented. Architecture becomes a symbol of hierarchy and importance.
• Division of labour becomes pronounced, and spaces are needed where people can trade the fruits of their labour with others. Markets and shops are born.
• The size of settlements begins to provide individuals with a degree of anonymity. Crime becomes a possibility, and architecture responds to provide man with protection from other individuals. 
• Division of labour becomes even more pronounced as settlements begin to trade between each other. Networks of mutual benefit emerge, and the boundaries between networks become the borders between countries.
• Hierarchy of government extends to cover entire countries. The rewards reaped at the top of the pile allow for far more ambitious projects, thus architecture becomes a symbol of power and dominance.
• The majority of workplaces, originally suited to outdoor tasks such as farming, move indoors. Workers are often exploited and architecture comes to symbolise this (justified or not, most workplaces to this day maintain their symbolic status as a place of oppression).
• Culture becomes more socially important; architecture is tasked with housing it. Eventually, the upper classes make a philanthropic move to educate the lower classes, and the public institution is born. It has often been remarked that this had more of an alienating effect, reiterating to the lower classes the supposed superiority of the upper classes.
• By this point, architecture is very firmly out of the individual’s hands; the decision as to who ought to live where and what standard their accommodation ought to be is placed in the care of an individual with power.

And so we are brought rather abruptly to where we started: the modernist utopia. We might now ask of this architecture “what problems is it intended to solve?”, and the answer is the last few which made an appearance in our potted history. These projects were meant to provide good quality housing in a suitable place for the lower classes (as determined by someone else). They were to be provided with opportunities for culture, and the design was meant to minimize inequality and power struggles which are inherent in large communities. That was what constituted utopia at the end of this history.

But what about at the start? What of the nomadic early human? What does his utopia consist of? In actual fact, his problems are few. Unlimited food, no predators and permanent good weather would solve all of his problems. The invention of architecture and of towns and cities may have allowed him to circumnavigate these problems, but it created a whole host more. Any serious, truly idealistic vision of utopia would surely not involve buildings at all, but simply a lot of food and sunshine – but unfortunately, all these problems are entirely out of his control.

So then, not only is the fabric of architecture capable of demonstrating power and oppression; not only does it mediate complex, unpredictable social relationships; and not only do we administrate architecture in a way that is fraught with opportunities for poor judgement – but most significantly, the very notion of architecture, of safety inside and vulnerability outside, is an admission of a fundamentally imperfect world; and the concept of the town or city a spatial demonstration of an individual’s dependence on others.

THAT is the true reason that utopia is such an absurd ideal.