by Thompson E. Penney, FAIA

When you come toe-to-toe with an epiphany, it grabs you by the lapels and slams you against the wall. When you come to, adjust your glasses, and focus, what you see is a whole new reality. That pretty much describes an experience I had earlier this year; an experience that resulted in a whole new insight into the poetry and proof of the AIA Livable Communities program.

Of course, “Livable Communities” has been high on the AIA’s agenda for quite some time. And why shouldn’t it be? Who wouldn’t be an advocate of “livable” communities? Ever since I first heard the phrase, it struck me that being in favor of livable communities was a no brainer: It was motherhood and apple pie.

Yet, when I was asked to talk about the importance of livable communities to an audience of non-architects, I kept stumbling over the question “why?” Why was I, an architect and an AIA representative, promoting livable communities? What was my real motive? Mind you, I wasn’t tongue-tied, because I didn’t believe this was anything less than a praiseworthy goal. But how, I wondered, does an architect credibly advocate a livable-community agenda to the public and their elected officials without appearing to be . . . well . . . self-serving?

Then I had my epiphany. Let me set the scene.

Proof positive
My wife, Gretchen, and I had been invited to Seaside, Fla., to participate in a symposium sponsored by the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation, “Architecture and the Nation’s Health: Design Matters.” The title intrigued me because it echoed the theme I had chosen for the AIA 2003 National Convention, “Design Matters: Poetry + Proof.” Featured on the program was Dr. Richard Jackson, director of the National Center for Environmental Health at the Centers for Disease Control. As he spoke, Dr. Jackson shared compelling statistics that documented alarming trends in the course of chronic illnesses in America, and how both the trends and the illnesses themselves are related to design!

It was a powerful presentation. And as his words sank in, that’s when it hit me: Here was the kind of objective “proof” I was searching for. Here was information that could help lead our profession down the road to becoming “trusted advisors.” With objective, verifiable data in hand, we could be persuasive and informed advocates for the importance of good design, sustainability, and livability without sounding self-serving.

Codes: Locked in a time warp?
Later in the symposium, a white paper was presented by landscape architect Stephanie Bothwell, ASLA. She suggested that many of today’s codes and zoning laws are locked in a time warp; many still address the same health issues of, for example, open fires and poor sanitation that were common to the Victorian industrial age. To be sure, Bothwell recognized that existing codes and zoning have made great contributions to “healthy” living with respect to the issues that they addressed. She went on, however, to make a case for redefining what we mean by health, safety, and welfare to include issues unique to the 21st century that may not always be so obvious as those faced by previous generations but nevertheless turn out to be just as important to the public’s well being. Here, too, design was identified as a key component of a modern public-health strategy.

The AIA is exploring opportunities to link arms with public-health and code officials to explore connections between design and health. To cite one recent example, the AIA has initiated a conversation with James Lee Witt, former Federal Emergency Management Agency director and new CEO of the International Codes Council, to pursue an updated vision of the role that building codes play in promoting better health among Americans.

Linking design, codes, and health
Here are some examples where public health, code language, and design all intersect:

• Obesity. Seventy percent of Americans do not get the recommended minimum daily 30 minutes of exercise because they’re “too busy,” it’s inconvenient, or they do not have safe environments in which to exercise. Nearly one-third of Americans are obese, and another third are overweight. One unintended consequence of existing code language is that fire-exit stairs are often completely enclosed and remote, which discourages usage and, therefore, a more active lifestyle. Incorporating physical activity into daily routines, such as taking the stairs instead of the elevator, is the best way to get the recommended amount of exercise each day.
• Depression. The leading chronic disease in American adults is depression. Anti-depressant medication prescriptions rose by 300 percent from 1988 to 1998. In far too many communities, unimaginatively restrictive zoning ordinances promote an illogical separation of uses, which have the effect of forcing residents into cars, impeding social interaction, and increasing the sense of isolation and depression. On the opposite side of the coin, psychologists have found, just being able to see green space improves mood and productivity; being able to walk in a natural environment is even better.
• Asthma. Deaths due to asthma increased by 85 percent from 1979 to 1995. Asthma-related admissions to emergency rooms went down by 42 percent during the World Olympics in Atlanta, when driving was reduced by 22 percent. Federal budget allocations that only favor more highway construction to accommodate cars may do so at the cost of increased exhaust pollution and asthma. Moreover, communities designed around cars instead of people create dangerous environments that discourage pedestrian activities.

As I said at our national convention last May in San Diego, architects have always known in their hearts that design matters. What we often lacked in making the most persuasive case for our work was objective, verifiable proof that our design decisions have a measurable impact on the public’s health and well being. Now we’re learning from medical professionals that a poorly designed community is not just ugly; it’s bad for a community’s health. This is a breakthrough or epiphany whose power we’re just beginning to comprehend.

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