Architecture: your friend or your enemy?

Kaj Zwerver investigates the hidden social impact of architecture. In this essay, he reflects on the thin line between hostile and friendly architecture and poses the question: can a building unintentionally become a sanctuary, or is there sometimes a deliberate intention behind it?

When you make your way from the covered bicycle parking on level -1 to the bicycle cellar on level -2 beneath the De Krook city library in Ghent, you descend via a ramp. In the upper right, at eye level, niches emerge that are hidden within the building's architecture. Five perfectly formed alcoves, sheltered from rain and wind and out of sight. They are popular with the homeless. Using cardboard, they seal off the opening facing the bicycle parking—as if it were a door—and retreat into their living room. They do not seem to cause much nuisance, and these spots were put to use quite soon after the opening of De Krook. Unlike many other places in the public space where the homeless sleep, these are fairly invisible sleeping spots.

“It is not uncommon for architecture to have a magnetic effect on the homeless, but the cause of this is often an unfortunate combination of building forms, vacancy, location, and a lack of shelters.”

The effectiveness of these homeless niches raised the question of whether this is really a coincidence. It is not uncommon for architecture to have a magnetic effect on the homeless, but the cause of this is often an unfortunate combination of building forms, vacancy, location, and a lack of shelters. Consider, for example, the North Station and the South Station in Brussels. Cleaning up those neighborhoods through “Operation Clean-up” ultimately remains merely treating the symptoms. Imagine if it could be done differently. What if the architect of De Krook secretly integrated these niches into the design? After all, a line more or less on a blueprint will likely go unnoticed by most people.

Could there be architects who integrate spaces for the homeless into their designs under the radar as a form of professional activism, as if it were a form of “friendly architecture”? Facilitating spaces for the homeless to retreat and rest would be contrary to the urban planning strategy we have employed in recent years of “hostile architecture,” with the aim of excluding certain groups from the city. A trend that cities like Rotterdam, Utrecht, and Leiden are now distancing themselves from. Take, for example, the benches with a central armrest so that no one can sleep on them, the bus stops where benches have been replaced by handrails, or the spikes on window sills: all deliberately designed to make life even harder and more inaccessible for the homeless. What does it say about the spirit of our times when we treat our most vulnerable groups in society in this way?

City Library De Krook is a public building, funded with public money. A library exists to serve the city and the people in that city. Could it really not be possible that these niches were created deliberately?

Homelessness is a rising trend throughout Europe. According to the latest estimate, Ghent has 2,490 homeless people: 1,857 adults and 633 directly affected children. These children obviously do not live on the streets, but they do live within the sphere of influence of their homeless parent(s). The social housing stock is roughly 15,000 homes for 270,000 inhabitants, and with an average waiting time of four years, the housing stock here is also under pressure. Last year, there was a historic public consultation on affordable housing. Based on deliberately created niches beneath De Krook, the supply of habitats for the homeless could then serve five of the 1,857 adult homeless people.

Suppose we extend this line of thought to policy. Amsterdam is also facing a housing crisis, but since 2017, the principle of 40 percent social housing, 40 percent mid-range rental housing, and 20 percent private sector housing in new construction projects has applied there. This policy was once again framed in The Housing Agenda 2025. In the past, this obligation also existed in Flanders, with a quota of up to 20 percent social housing on private land and up to 40 percent on public land. This scheme disappeared due to a technical issue regarding illegal state aid according to Europe, and since then, no Flemish government has rectified that mistake.

What if we add five percent of habitats for the homeless to these quotas? These could be smaller and therefore cheaper. What would this mean for the housing market, and what would the minimum requirements for such a homeless dwelling have to be? After all, we have housing quality standards that a home must officially meet. According to the Flemish surface area standard, a self-contained dwelling must be at least 18 square meters. When we look at the quality standards for rooms, the requirement of at least 8 square meters is smaller. However, there must be a ‘minimum level of comfort,’ such as an individual washbasin with hot water.

“The question is, of course, whether the solution to the homelessness problem lies in making architecture more accessible.”

The niches under De Krook therefore do not meet this requirement in the slightest. However, isn't it more ethical to provide shelter from rain and wind than to let people sleep completely outside? Whether these niches meet the standards is perhaps a minor detail. The question is, of course, whether the solution to the homelessness problem lies in making architecture more accessible. Devising socio-economic measures to ensure fewer people sleep outdoors might be a better solution to the root of the problem. However, a friendlier approach to public space is in any case far better than “hostile architecture”.

Currently, there is a great deal of focus on sustainable building. We are also slowly beginning to consider the ecological impact of the built environment on “non-humans.” Think of animals and organisms other than humans. Building and renovating more mindfully in relation to the environment is a logical next step in our development towards a more inclusive architectural approach. Yet, it feels bitter when we overlook a group of people in the process. Here, too, social and ecological themes clash. As a society, we will have no choice but to move towards an energy transition with greater ecological awareness. But this must not come at the expense of the still relevant social struggle for universal housing. If we can arrange it for animals and for the earth, then all people must at least be provided with a roof over their heads. Given the current political climate in both the Netherlands and Belgium, we can conclude that, in any case, no structural solutions will present themselves in the short term. In both countries, politicians are even toying with the idea of ​​further cutting back on night shelters, which are already in poor condition. As the architectural world, we cannot keep waiting for social policy. In the meantime, let’s design niches en masse.