So how do we fix unsustainable cities and suburbs? How do we go back from the machine scale to the human scale? In the same way that a one-size-fits-all sort of lifestyle was imposed on our cities, there are going to be as many solutions as there are cities and developments...
...a combination of leading by example, studying the past while trying to put ourselves in the shoes of those coming after us. Both carrots and whips. There is no need to raze and rebuild, rather we should consolidate, and stop subsidizing that which can't be sustained.
Good cities are always built on the human scale, useful to anyone regardless of age or possession of a driver's license, and have access to sun and water to some degree. Apart from that they can differ, a city in Algeria will look and work differently from a city in Ecuador.
Buildings and architecture should fit its local climate, soil, and altitude. A building that enriches southern California will impoverish northern Norway. That is why fashions in building can be so costly, or in some cases even deadly.
There's almost 20,000 villages, towns and cities in the U.S. If we ask 1% of them to come up with a human scaled model habitation of say 0.1 square miles (the size of large shopping mall or stadium, with parking), we'd have something to start work with. We don't lack the space.
Naturally, this leads to questions, from the practical: how do you move a washing machine without cars? Can you have a city of 1 million without traffic? How can we afford to build new rail? to the more philosophical: what is the role of religion in cities? Why do we need order?
Out of personal interest (I am just some laborer in a far east Asian megacity who reads a lot) I collect examples of how our ancestors answered these questions. They are not admonitions, but examples. Above all, they are meant to reassure: don't fear, we have done this before.
There is no need to despair about the future, whether you live in suburb to Toronto or work a small field outside of Karachi. We'll get through this. Our ancestors have already shown us the way. We just need to get back to it.
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It is well known warehouses built in earth plaster using inoculated fermented straw and soil keeps fruits, vegetables fresh longer and inhibits mold and microbial growth on paper, books, clothes, antiques etc. Hence Japanese "Dozō". But you can build miniature storage boxes too.
A Japanese master plasterer designed boxes built exactly like regular earthen warehouse walls, except he reused wooden wine crates. He sells kits, or you can use your own materials to make your own if you feel up to it.
These boxes are intended for grain, vegetables and fruit that you would normally keep in a "dark and cool" place. And they work. Here is a comparison with a polystyrene box and three mandarin oranges after 45 days. The blue box is more like what most modern homes are built like.
The practical skills in thatching can be difficult to acquire by videos or books alone, especially how to find materials and the binding. In Finland there is a traditional thatching technique that uses only easy to find reed and no binding: just spread it out and weigh it down.
A bound reed roof is far steeper and thus lasts longer, but it requires more skill to do correctly. Reed is often available for free and in vast quantities anywhere it grows, harvesting it is doing nature a favor. All materials used in a reed roof are compostable, all hand tools.
For a standard roof of say 100m² you need to harvest about three hectares. You can harvest that by hand in about a month, or in a day if you have a reed harvesting machine. In Finland you harvest in March, April.
Maybe one of the oddest professions in Japan is that of the bokka (歩荷). Porters who carry supplies to remote mountain guesthouses inaccessible to vehicles. A bokka uses customized wooden ladder frames to carry 100-165kg of supplies on day long marches (walk up, run down).
The job is popular: not surprisingly veteran bokka routinely tests as fitter and healthier than elite athletes. Both men and women take on the job, the average weight of a bokka is 60-70kg.
Still not much of a chore compared to what some farmers used to handle.
Iriairinya (入会林野) is the Japanese term for "commons". In the West the term "commons" are usually meant as fields for grazing but Japanese commons were traditionally the mixed grass and forest lands between mountains and flatlands usable in agriculture.
Iriairinya are typically from a couple of hectares up to 50-60 hectares. Still a valid legal concept, village's who manage commons also have the option to incorporate them (as modern organizations), to make them more compatible with modern legal practices.
Commons were meant to be vital lifelines for rural villages, providing its members with food (forage), feed (for livestock), fertilizer (leaves), fuel (wood, charcoal), building material (roof thatch). When modern lifestyles took over in the 1970s commons were mostly abandoned.
The miracle of Usami: at 11:58 A.M. Sept. 1st 1923 a great earthquake struck the Tokyo region. Near the epicenter was Usami village, where no one was killed or injured while neighboring villages each had hundreds dead and wounded. How?
The villagers of Usami had an exceptionally long memory. Records, monuments and tales of a huge 1703 quake had been preserved and stories of what happened was still in vivid memory. The locals acted unbelievably fast, evacuations started as soon as the trembling stopped.
An 8m tsunami struck the seaside village only 5 min after the quake. Locals were already arrived at and safe within historical evacuation grounds: temples, bamboo thickets, stands of trees, where their ancestors had marked out safe spots centuries before (circle: 1703 tsunami)
The post town Tsumago-Juku (pop 400) in Japan was founded in 1601. In 1960 it took a unique decision to dedicate itself to its own preservation by three golden rules: "No selling, no letting, no destroying." Every renovation or rebuilding even of private homes is done in common.
The town's main income is obviously tourism, but in order to preserve the town the locals figured out a method where they build and renovate as much as possible by themselves, together. One ex. is the town's six remaining "ancient style" ishiokiyane: shingle roofs held by rocks.
The roofs are made of wood shingles, only the bottom row nailed, the rest held down by horizontal battens and rocks. They are relaid every few years, broken shingles discarded, leaks fixed etc. Work is led by the most skilled townsperson while a team of 5-20 volunteers help out.