Hostile Architecture: From Canada to Peru
You may have passed by a park bench with a seemingly useless third armrest in the middle. Or maybe metal spikes embedded within pavement outside a storefront. The use of hostile architecture - perhaps more agreeably called “defensive design” - appears to be a well-intentioned design strategy that restricts certain behaviours in urban spaces to prevent crime, protect property, and defend maintenance [2]. Although these choices are often unnoticed by most city dwellers, it discriminates against vulnerable members of the population, such as the homeless, who often have nowhere else to turn to in the public space. These design choices are intentional, and in no way, shape, or form contribute to sustainable development, as they directly threaten the inclusivity and resilience of cities and human settlements. It is therefore imperative that the issue of hostile architecture is addressed.
What is Hostile Architecture?
Where exactly did the idea of hostile architecture come from? As noted by public space researcher and advocate Cara Chellew, it stems from the Crime Prevention Through Environmental Design (CPTED) philosophy. CPTED was designed by Oscar Newman’s 1973 work Defensible Space and the writing of journalist Jane Jacobs (1961), who suggested that the issue of criminal activity could be reduced using physical environments as a preventative tool [3]. This philosophy is rooted in the notion that the way a built environment is designed can be strategically used to minimise crime and its perception [4]. There are three pillars of CPTED: natural access control, natural surveillance, and territorial reinforcement [4]. In theory, this philosophy seems beneficial to prevent undesirable public behaviours such as loitering and crime. Yet in practice, public spaces become less attractive and downright discriminatory for certain members of the community.
The harsh reality of this phenomenon is that it targets particular groups of people, such as the disabled, elderly, pregnant, and youth by physically guiding where they can and cannot interact with public spaces [2]. As stated by Chellew, hostile architecture psychologically guides behaviour by declaring a message: they are not a member of the public who is welcome to stay for too long [4]. Although hostile architecture may have been put forward to exclude criminals, it now appears to physically and psychologically exclude vulnerable members who rely on public spaces the most. Thus, the implementation of hostile architecture indirectly violates the human right of “no discrimination” as established in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights [5]. It propagates the message that everyone is not entitled to the same right to use public space, particularly if you are a member of a vulnerable population who is seen as undesirable in the public eye.
The phenomenon of hostile architecture has increased in prevalence on a global scale, particularly within modern cities [6]. One such city is Hong Kong, where designing public spaces prioritises a rigid and sanitised environment over user-friendliness and inclusivity [6]. Hong Kong exhibits a high shortage of affordable housing, as evidenced by the rising numbers of street sleepers in recent years [6]. According to The Social Welfare Department of Hong Kong, 881 street sleepers were registered in 2015, a rise from 787 in 2014, though many are undocumented officially [6]. The government views the street sleepers with an “out of sight, out of mind” mentality and uses administrative methods via hostile architecture to inhibit them from staying within public spaces for long periods of time [6]. This does not alleviate homelessness or address the strong disparities in inequality that exist in Hong Kong. The city of Victoria in Australia also employs hostile architecture, and it has been found that 39-46% of those unfairly affected by these structures and tactics are young people [7]. One spatial analysis study in Boston, Massachusetts found that hostile architecture aimed at homeless people is more likely to appear further away from homeless shelters, with the most common behaviours targeted for homeless individuals being sitting or resting, and reclining or sleeping [8]. It is difficult to ascertain the exact prevalence of hostile architecture on a global scale, but as the aforementioned examples illustrate, it seems to be widely used in modern cities.
Hostile architecture may have been implemented to make cities and human settlements safer, but there are countless examples of places where its usage has conflicted with the inclusivity and resilience of public spaces. In this piece, we will explore two such cities: Kavina’s nearest city, Toronto (Canada), and Arequipa (Peru), where Valeria lives.
Hostile Architecture in Toronto, Canada
Hostile architecture is often seen as controversial due to its negative effects on the homelessness crisis. Homelessness is a prominent issue in Toronto as the demand for accessible housing has severely overtaken its supply [9]. On any given night in Toronto, over 10,000 people are homeless, a figure that has likely risen since the COVID-19 pandemic [9]. This can be attributed to rental costs dramatically increasing over the past decade, with the inability to pay rent and eviction being among the top five reasons for homelessness, according to a survey done on 2000 homeless individuals in 2018 [10]. The average market rent for a one-bedroom unit in Toronto has increased by 33% in the past decade, while benefits given to Ontario Works shelter only increased by 10% [10]. Furthermore, 32% of all the respondents slept outdoors at least once in the past six months at the time of the survey [10]. This indicates that the homelessness crisis is so prevalent that shelters have become fully occupied, leaving one-third of the homeless population to stay on the streets at some point in their homeless state.
To share an anecdote…I’ll never forget the sheer shock I had one early winter morning. Walking down the streets of downtown Toronto, seeing people step over and around homeless people laying on the sidewalk. It was impossible to walk a few blocks without seeing someone huddled over a steam grate or in a doorway to keep warm. I felt horrible and I couldn’t shake the images of people stretched out on the streets of the richest city in my country. However, there’s no surprise as to why this is the case. As alluded to earlier, homeless shelters across Toronto consistently reach full occupancy rates [11]. With nowhere else to turn, public spaces within the city are often the only other option. Yet, when these people turn to public spaces in Toronto, they are met with spikes, studs, and bars that prevent them from resting. Many of these hostile design elements have been documented by volunteers on #defensiveTO, an online mapping project founded by researcher Cara Chellew.
In 2020, an average of 2.7 homeless people died per week [12]. Toronto is also known for its harsh and early winters, causing the number of deaths of homeless people to peak during the winter months [12]. Clearly, it appears that major city governments are unable to provide safe winter housing for the entire homeless population. So, why do city planners go out of their way to construct spaces where these vulnerable people cannot sleep on a public bench? In fact, the usage of centre bars on benches is not governed by any municipal policies or guidelines, which is deeply troubling as this means that enforcing hostile architecture in public design is an arbitrary choice, not a mandated one [4]. It’s a choice that directly conflicts with Sustainable Development Goal 11: Sustainable Cities and Communities, and as its effects in practice show regarding homelessness, it’s one that cannot address social issues.
Stopping a homeless person from getting good sleep on a park bench isn’t going to solve the root cause of homelessness. Although hostile architecture was initially proposed as a means to prevent loitering that could lead to potential criminal activity, it has deterred people, such as the homeless, out of these spaces. With homeless shelters in Toronto consistently reaching full occupancy rates, it is cruel to exclude these individuals from resting in public spaces as a last resort. Architecture will not address the determinants of homelessness, but what it can do is help create more inclusive spaces that can serve as temporary solutions for vulnerable members of society. What’s more, implementing hostile architecture makes public spaces less appealing and leads to fewer users overall, interfering with the goal of public spaces in the first place [13]. Adding centre bars to benches, metal protrusions to ledges, and the removal of amenities like street furniture, public washrooms, water fountains, and picnic tables make it impossible to occupy public spaces for long periods of time [14]. Unfortunately, hostile architecture is not a design philosophy only constrained to Toronto, a city already facing a homelessness crisis.
Hostile Architecture in Arequipa, Peru
Hostile architecture also generates economic, technological and social changes in society, modifying our conception and use of public space. It is a resource that decides “who” can use the space and for “what purpose” [15].
In the city of Arequipa, as in other cities of Peru, hostile architecture is generating a change in social and spatial structures. It is presented in the public space and in urban furniture. During my walks through the city, I could see and realise that in Arequipa, there are still parks and avenues expressing hostility and avoiding the generation of social dynamics in the public space. Urban coexistence is necessary for a good relationship between citizens. As a result of hostile architecture, the public space becomes a place with no green areas to sit or interact with [16]. It is inevitable to notice the current state of some parks, squares, playgrounds for children, and benches to sit in. In these places, the majority of urban furniture is located in spaces that are completely surrounded by cold metal bars.
One research study was carried out by the Ombudsman's Office of Arequipa in 2019 titled “Supervision of public spaces in Arequipa” [17]. The results and data determined that, out of the 104 parks reviewed, more than 30% were closed to the public. In addition to this, throughout the city, it was found tall fences crossed the green areas of the parks. Young people are creative enough to ideate new games from this design choice, but the current situation must be taken seriously. Fortunately, in recent years, more and more municipalities understand that public space is a place for debate and sharing, but there are still few municipalities that have lost the fear and have removed the bars that divide the public space [18].
On the other hand, hostility could also manifest in the state of conservation of urban furniture in our cities. Some parks have broken concrete benches, making it impossible to sit on them. In my opinion, the poor condition of the urban furniture is a reminder of the same hostility as a bench with a design and structure that prevents people from sitting comfortably or relaxing. However, our cities still have time to be more resilient and reduce the levels of hostility that certain spaces have today.
Final Reflections and Call to Action
It is possible to generate interventions in the public space in order to avoid hostility through architecture and contribute to building more inclusive cities. It is also important to consider the development of urban proposals focused on the person; this is closely related to the human-centred design approach. In this way, the person is the main character in the design process of a public space project. To achieve this, it can be facilitated through participatory activities, such as working with social organisations, and volunteer teams. Even from our areas of study and work, we could carry out tactical urban planning and architectural interventions, respecting the existing context and reducing levels of hostility. These interventions can be developed with a minimum amount of materials, and by using recycled materials, such as cardboard, tires, fabrics, fruit crates, plastic bottles, among others. As a result, this would allow “temporary interventions” to become permanent and transformative projects in the future.
Listening to comments such as “the city needs more spaces like this” after a tactical urban project, is a great indicator that things are being done well [19]. An example of a successful tactical urbanism project in Arequipa city is the renovation of the slum "Quinta Salas''; a participatory project carried out in 2014 by art collectives, architecture students and licenced architects. This architectural intervention has generated the emergence of neighbourhood organisations and community social activities in order to preserve the interventions. It is possible to do use tactical urbanism for good, creating more sustainable cities and communities for all.
As young people, we can start new creative projects, hand-in-hand with SDG 9: Industry, Innovation and Infrastructure, and its target 9.1, which emphasises affordable and equitable access to quality infrastructure for all [20]. Our contribution to resilience urban infrastructure could be done by recycled materials and tactical urbanism. It is also possible to organise ourselves and form partnerships to carry out intervention projects. Do not forget the possibility of submitting the project to competitive funds, contests or to the Project Office of the local municipality.
Last but not least, I recall an experience of transformation of hostile architecture during the current pandemic. The Metropolitan Municipality of Lima, capital of Peru, in collaboration with the Charity of Lima, has promoted the project “La casa de todos” (English: Everyone's home). It uses the space of the Plaza de Toros (English: Bullring), to build a temporary space and tent that allows homeless people to be protected and housed during the pandemic. This exemplifies how positive change to our cities can be created if we take a community-led approach, and therefore, our call to action involves initiating projects according to current issues. Let's make use of architecture and urban design as a tool to get ahead!
References
[1] H. Haines, “Photo of Man Laying on Sidewalk,” January 7, 2020. [Online]. Available: https://www.pexels.com/photo/photo-of-man-laying-on-sidewalk-3536259/. [Accessed 13 February 2021].
[2] C. Chellew, “Defending Suburbia,” Canadian Journal of Urban Research, vol. 28, pp. 19-33, 2019.
[3] The International CPTED Association (ICA), “A Brief History of the ICA,” n.d. [Online]. Available: https://www.cpted.net/A-brief-history. [Accessed 19 April 2021].
[4] C. Chellew, “Design paranoia,” Ontario Planning Journal, vol. 31, no.5, pp. 18-20, 2016.
[5] UN, “Universal Declaration of Human Rights at 70: 30 Articles on 30 Articles - Article 25” United Nations, 2017. [Online]. Available: https://www.ohchr.org/EN/NewsEvents/Pages/DisplayNews.aspx?NewsID=23970&LangID=E#:~:text=Article%2025%20of%20the%20Universal,widowhood%2C%20unemployment%20and%20old%20age. [Accessed 5 May 2021].
[6] “How Hong Kong's hostile architecture hurts city's homeless and poor,” South China Morning Post, July 20, 2018. [Online]. Available: https://www.scmp.com/lifestyle/article/2019619/how-hong-kongs-hostile-architecture-hurts-citys-homeless-and-poor. [Accessed 19 April 2021].
[7] N. K. Hui, “Attacking defensive architecture: criminalisation and victimisation by hostile designs in Victoria,” n.d. [Online]. Available: https://www.parliament.vic.gov.au/images/stories/committees/SCLSI/Inquiry_into_Homelessness_in_Victoria/Submissions/S59A_-_Nicholas_Kay_Hui.pdf. [Accessed 19 April 2021].
[8] C. A. Carey, “Hostile Architecture Aimed at People Experiencing Homelessness in Boston, Massachusetts: A Spatial Analysis,” August 2018 [Online]. Available: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/325718557_Hostile_Architecture_Aimed_at_People_Experiencing_Homelessness_in_Boston_Massachusetts_A_Spatial_Analysis. [Accessed 19 April 2021].
[9] L. Cecco, “Why Toronto is taking action against a carpenter amid its homelessness crisis,” The Guardian, February 28, 2021. [Online]. Available: https://www.theguardian.com/world/2021/feb/28/toronto-tiny-home-homelessness-crisis. [Accessed 19 April 2021]
[10] City of Toronto, “2018 Street Needs Assessment Results,” 2018. [Online]. Available: https://www.toronto.ca/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/99be-2018-SNA-Results-Report.pdf. [Accessed 19 April 2021].
[11] City of Toronto, “Daily Shelter & Overnight Service Usage” February 2021. [Online]. Available: https://www.toronto.ca/city-government/data-research-maps/research-reports/housing-and-homelessness-research-and-reports/shelter-census/. [Accessed 13 February 2021].
[12] Tableau Public, “Homeless Deaths - Surveillance & Epidemiology,” [Online]. Available: https://public.tableau.com/profile/tphseu#!/vizhome/HomelessDeaths_Final/HomelessDeathsFinal. [Accessed 13 February 2021]
[13] L. Pelley, “Ever wonder why you can't lie down on most city benches? It's thanks to 'defensive design',” CBC News, July 2, 2019 [Online]. Available: https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/toronto/how-defensive-design-leads-to-rigid-benches-metal-spikes-and-visual-violence-in-modern-cities-1.5192333. [Accessed 13 February 2021].
[14] Anon., “#defensiveTO,” defensiveto. [Online]. Available: https://www.defensiveto.com/typology. [Accessed 19 April 2021]
[15] A. M. Ramiro, “Hostile architecture. The hypocrisy of not inhabiting,” Arquitectura y Empresa, August 19, 2020. [Online]. Available: https://arquitecturayempresa.es/noticia/arquitectura-hostil-la-hipocresia-del-no-habitar#:~:text=Fotograf%C3%ADa%20de%20%C3%88lia%20Pons.,vagabundos%20o%20personas%20sin%20hogar. [Accessed 19 April 2021].
[16] Fahrenheit Magazine, “Hostile Architecture: Urban Design for discourage coexistence,” May 23, 2020. [Online]. Available: https://fahrenheitmagazine.com/arte/arquitectura/la-arquitectura-hostil-diseno-urbano-para-desalentar-la-convivencia. [Accessed 15 February 2021].
[17] H. M. Rodríguez, “Arequipa, city with bars and without parks,” Diario Correo, October 7, 2019. [Online]. Available: https://diariocorreo.pe/opinion/arequipa-ciudad-con-rejas-y-sin-parques-914991/?ref=dcr. [Accessed 21 February 2021].
[18] C. Moreno, “Bars, public space and cultural consumption,” El Peruano, February 20, 2020. [Online]. Available: https://elperuano.pe/noticia/90084-rejas-espacio-publico-y-consumo-cultural [Accessed 18 February 2021].
[19] Pontificia Universidad Catolica del Peru, “Second International Forum: Urban Interventions. Public Space for sustainable cities in Peru and Latin America,” August, 2017. [Online]. Available: https://ocupatucalle.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/FIIU_2017_.pdf. [Accessed 18 February 2021].
[20] UN, “Goal 9: Build resilient infrastructure, promote sustainable industrialization and foster innovation,” August, 2017. [Online]. Available: https://www.un.org/sustainabledevelopment/es/infrastructure/. [Accessed 29 March 2021].