US Pavilion
Biennale Architettura 2023
May 20–November 26

In Place Of

In Cradle to Cradle, architect William McDonough describes pollutants as misplaced materials.William McDonough and Michael Braungart, Cradle to Cradle: Remaking the Way We Make Things (London: Vintage Classics, 2009). Carbon, for example, doesn’t belong in the atmosphere, where it traps the sun’s energy and contributes to global warming. Carbon belongs in the soil, where it supports plant life and, by extension, feeds the entire world. This framework of belonging—for understanding the harms and possibilities of materials as they relate to place—echoes the work of anthropologist Mary Douglas who argues that what we classify as “waste” is determined by context, rather than by the intrinsic characteristics of the materials in question.Mary Douglas, Purity and Danger: An Analysis of Concepts of Pollution and Taboo (London: Routledge Classics, 1966).

So what is the place of plastic? Unlike carbon, plastic is a human invention, one that has become both deeply embedded in the built environment and increasingly unwelcome, especially when used in the wrong forms and concentrations and in all the wrong places. We’ve constructed our own reliance on it without much attention to context, or to where it might belong and not belong. When plastics emerged in the 1920s, they often mimicked the appearance and function of wood, glass, ivory, and other natural building materials in ways that conformed to consumer preferences. Over time, however, the adaptability and low cost of plastic led to its widespread use, not just because of what it could replace (or displace) but also because of what it could enable.

PVC pipes deliver water efficiently and affordably to millions of people every day; plastic particles contaminate the water supply, infiltrate our blood streams, and damage our DNA. Plastics encase the fiber optic cables and power grids that make modern telecommunications possible; discarded devices accumulate in landfills and leach carcinogens into the water table. Airplanes, trains, and cars made of durable, lightweight plastics move people and products across great distances; hazardous fumes from the plastics manufacturing process cause respiratory illnesses, eye irritation, and nervous system damage. People rely on plastic and ignore, or tacitly accept, the negative consequences. How do we reconcile the harm and possibilities attendant to these materials, or the opposing but interconnected forces at work in plastic cities?

Perhaps it’s too late. Plastic is everywhere. Buildings may be clad in wood, metal, or masonry, but plastic is always there—in the walls, windows, structural members, coatings, fasteners, furnishings, plumbing, and mechanical systems. City trees and urban landscapes depend on plastic for irrigation and drainage, and plastic permeates urban infrastructure networks. Cities also manage and export vast amounts of plastic waste. Most of this plastic will never fully disappear; it just gets smaller and smaller, infiltrating water bodies and human bodies at an alarming rate.

If the boundaries between people and plastic have been irretrievably breached, are there ways to embrace, contain, and transform plastics—and by extension, our cities—differently, away from harm? Would it be possible, for instance, to filter plastic particles out of the Great Lakes and aggregate them into building materials to address global housing shortages? Could single-use plastic bags be extracted from landfills and woven into landscape fabrics that protect against shoreline erosion and sea level rise in coastal communities? With all respect for reality, can we envision a radically different future in which plastics are used sparingly, responsibly, and with a full reckoning of their costs and their benefits? This would require not only remaking or retrofitting almost every aspect of the built environment but also rethinking our entire relationship to “use.” Is changing the context of plastic waste or redirecting the processes for which plastic is useful a place to start?

In addition to changes at the urban scale, perhaps humans need to become more malleable in response to our increasingly plasticized communities. Phenotypic plasticity refers to the ways that organisms change their behavior, shape, and physiology in response to a unique environment. In other words, if people are to flourish in plastic cities, we may need to remold ourselves and adapt to new realities. Plastic in many ways is humble and versatile—virtues to embrace as we reorganize the world and adapt to altered environments.

1

William McDonough and Michael Braungart, Cradle to Cradle: Remaking the Way We Make Things (London: Vintage Classics, 2009).

2

Mary Douglas, Purity and Danger: An Analysis of Concepts of Pollution and Taboo (London: Routledge Classics, 1966).

Sketches on Everlasting Plastics, Edited by Isabelle Kirkham-Lewitt + Joanna Joseph, Columbia Books on Architecture and the City

More Sketches