Images of Future Cities: Courtesy of Makers by Cory Doctorow


While reading Makers, you get caught up in the lives of Lester, Perry, Suzanne and the rest. There are villains and heroes, celebrations and catastrophes. Doctorow gives an addictive read; my thumb rapid-clicked the Kindle page button to move the words faster and faster.

While I was captivated by the story, that’s not my focus here. I’ll save the story for you to read – no spoiler alert required.

The wealth of new images in Makers lets us peer into one scenario for 21st c cities. In this future, we live on a whimsical, resource-limited planet that I might love but also fear, particularly as an architect.

What Can Makers Teach Us About Possible Futures?
Here’s nine intriguing images, all plausible enough, and a few that scare the bejeezies out of me.

  1. New Work. “Capitalism is eating itself.” In the “New Work” program, big corps fund small teams of inventors, build production and distribution systems, and reap profits for a few months till the copycats undercut prices. An entire product line evolves from bright idea to obsolete in 6-9 months.
  2. DIY Inventors. While the idea is not new, garage inventors play a far more significant role when innovation and production move at light speed. These 21st c mechanics twist left-behind appliances, toys, computers, ie, today’s consumer goods, into adaptive reuse products and environments.
  3. Dead Malls or Ghost Malls. Abandoned big box retail and indoor malls called dead malls and ghost malls become hotbeds for creative start-ups and shanty towns. In Makers, even shelter evolves from found objects.
  4. Shanty Towns. Homeless folks flock to former suburbs and build elaborate slums, rather than living crammed into urban doorways or under bridges. The construction style seems born from the squatters villages in Mumbai or Delhi, except apparently with better infrastructure and code compliance. Structures reach 3-4 floors and sport skywalks and whimsical shapes. Shops occupy first floors with residences and restaurants above. Children play in streets and community order is maintained through ad hoc leadership. Idyllic? Yup.
  5. Transportation. Crowded planes sound more like today’s bus travel experience, but otherwise seem unchanged. Corp jets sit idle and are cast off for parts. Fewer people have cars, taxis still exist, and walking 30 minutes to get lunch is normal. The main characters’ vehicle consists of two Smart Cars mashed together for more interior space.
  6. Cities and Architecture. Reused malls, poorly maintained public streets, crowded airports all sound feasible, although a bit frightening. It’s today’s cities only dirtier. New forms of architecture include the shanty towns described in quaint, organic terms. Coffin hotels sound a lot like Tokyo’s capsules.
  7. Robots. As an early example in the book, Boogie Woogie Elmos are reprogrammed to drive a stripped down Smart Car. A synchronized Elmo-robot team operates pedals, wheel and gear shaft, and responds to voice commands. Other robots rearrange and construct theme parks in response to visitors’ feedback. If you like something, just rate it with your joystick, and it moves forward in the exhibit; hate it and its banished.
  8. 3D Printers and Scanners. This equipment produces anything from a doll to a car part to a door. Once programmed, 3D machines and robots do all the heavy lifting; really they are the Makers in this book. Seemingly, theme park exhibits transform completely for our satisfaction – and so I imagine, why not the real world? Sure to send quivers into any AEC pro.
  9. Goop. The raw material inserted in the 3D printer, referred to as a type of Silly Putty, becomes a high-tech commodity. 3D printers can be programmed to only accept certain types of goop, much like printer cartridges today. Free printers are loss-leaders while profit comes from selling goop. Goop can be made of recycled materials melted down and mixed with epoxy. The key ingredient for all products, whether assembled by robots or extruded from 3D printers, is junk.

What Do I Love and Fear About Makers’ World?
Innovation celebrated, freedom from big business, robots constantly building cool things, rides that reinvent instantaneously, handmade cities with lively communities – what a fantastic world!

OTOH grand gestures seem completely missing in action. No mention of beauty other than humans and some of the Disney experience. The rest sounds like Frankenstein cities, assembled from cast-offs and gerry-rigged to new uses.

Architects and engineers would be part of the design/build crew – making, remaking, and programming robots. The rapid-fire change means we would learn from failures faster, do it better tomorrow. That’s fantastic, actually.

Does Makers Include Architects, Engineers or Contractors?

As it is now, we fear our mistakes since a botched design can live for decades. Or as Frank Lloyd Wright said: we plant ivy.

Frankly, some lessons are not at all clear until a place is built and used. On every project, the designer says “drat!” about something, “aha!” about something else. We live and learn with regrets; find joy in happy accidents. But we rarely get to fix problems. A missed opportunity is just that; gone.

With assembled structures and swarms of construction robots, we could improve a space constantly. Need a bigger assembly space? send the bots. More doors or windows? Better shading devices? Fire up the 3D printer. Thinking on your feet and working with existing resources become a new form of modeling at full scale. Thrilling! Design/build as performance art.

I would truly welcome this world, even though the pressure to perform would be enormous. Imagine, nearly instant turn-around!! Lag-time would disappear.

Yet, I bet architects, engineers, and construction folks would be far less useful or common. The concept of citizen inventors extends to citizen architects and builders too.

Those Professions Formerly Known As…
In this low-scale, robot-constructed world, expertise may be nearly worthless in design and construction. Computer models would set design parameters for spans and fire codes, even for functional uses and types of experiences. Want quiet and peaceful, pick Option 21058; workspace for call centers, pick Option 84205.

Instead, in the Makers world, we survive by the worthiness of our ideas. Buildings are built and perhaps rebuilt or modified in a day. We design, hit the send button, and then boom, it’s built by robot swarms and 3D extractions.

Services are shortened to schematics and oversight. Explaining what is needed, and what is possible will be accompanied by robot-built models. Presentations might be daily events, so gear up communication skills.

While knowledge of the field is essential, with automated design and construction processes, the number of people working at each role could be substantially reduced. Innovators, synthesizers, folks who can think across platforms, communicate ideas, and know how things fit together would be at a premium. Production jobs in today’s world and folks that make it happen may be less essential.

Picture cities as anthills, emerging from a million small actions instead of grand schemes orchestrated by experts.

How Much of a Stretch?
I’ve taken Doctorow’s ideas and asked: what would this mean for entire cities? If we had this technology, these sensibilities and resources, how would we make buildings? Furthermore, what would it mean for those of us that love to make cities? I hope the author is tolerant of my stretch.

Imagining the future is the best way to shape it and the only way to prepare ourselves.

Makers presents a scenario that is far from an architect’s dream. It’s a tough environment for engineers, planners, and contractors as well. Even city leaders and developers would have to step aside for this tsunami of citizen action.

Just as content and media platforms have become free for publishing, if materials and real estate lose their economic clout, and design/build processes are automated, active users will create cities.

Would you choose to live in Makers world?

You can buy it here:
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How Two Churches Erased Urban-Suburban Differences



Grand Avenue Methodist Temple by Neal1960.

Here’s a tale of two churches that celebrates a huge step forward in urban-suburban wars.

The Grand Avenue Temple at 9th Street and Grand Avenue in Kansas City Missouri has operated on a shoestring budget since I can remember, say two or three decades. Most recently I attended a lecture there with Glenn Murcutt, Pritzker Prize winning architect from Australia. The sanctuary houses a traditional balcony and raised dais surrounded by spectacular stained glass, and projects a grand intimacy.

Two Churches’ Stories

The best I can call this 1912 Neo-Classical structure in its current condition might be magnificent tatters. Still hosting the original pipe organ and architectural ornamentation, it’s an anomaly among offices and government buildings and was the focus of an AIA Kansas City and State Historic Preservation Office endangered building study. I’d wager that sitting across the street from the United States Courthouse protected it from vandalism but not from a century of wear and tear. Now the site of weddings, small ceremonies, and a food pantry, Grand Avenue Temple has been called back to service, and in a very big way.

The other church in this story is an Overland Park, Kansas mega-church, the Church of the Resurrection (COF). Founded in 1990, the 12,000 member congregation worships in an arena-like sanctuary designed by Populous, formerly HOK Sport, located in south Johnson County (JoCo), the quintessential suburb. Traditionally, the two parts of the metropolitan city operate separately. Now they have found a common bond that crosses time, space, and society.

Visionary Leadership

Last year, Rev. Adam Hamilton, an ambitious, charismatic, Harley-riding minister, began to tell his JoCo members that they should consider moving downtown and attending Grand Avenue Temple. He hired a new minister and began with an Easter Day service. Formal arrangements cemented the partnership of Grand Avenue Temple and the Church of the Resurrection beginning in November.

Imagine that: downtown evangelism has reached the suburbs. A mighty wind blew that seed twenty miles south, connecting history to next generation of power. Equally amazing, suburban interests discovered both an opportunity and a need in its own backyard.

I am not really sure who needs whom the most and happily, it seems that they have both simply become geographically enlightened. That is some kind of epiphany, I’d say.

Thanks to the work of diligent people, particularly long-time minister, Rev. Ron Brooks, who faithfully maintained the Grand Avenue Temple during the forgotten decades, the historic space dodged the wrecking ball despite all odds.

And hurray to the prosperous suburban ministry that saw far beyond the confines of a safe, finite world.

A New Marriage

In strong partnerships, each gains from the other. The Grand Avenue Temple’s benefits are obvious. The marriage is no less than an act of resurrection, a new life for a building and its people that promises hope and secures its future.

Yet the Church of the Resurrection is also reborn. Accustomed to a pristine suburban campus where everything in sight is less than 10-15 years old, the congregation is introduced to the life of downtown America in a century-old building, founded by both blacks and whites after the Civil War. A truly diverse congregation resides at the Grand Avenue Temple now; and the church building is not a carpeted, spotless world. It’s purely old school – ancient oak detailing, intricate tile and terra cotta, thick stained glass chunks, and a pipe organ that is a national treasure.

The joy of this space has inspired the helpless and the powerful, surviving generational trends and market highs and lows with equal vigor. Two world wars, a Depression, the Tom Pendergast era, and a local haberdasher named Harry Truman are part of its story.

The strength of architecture is it’s endurance; now a new generation will draw from this sacred place. The COF congregation is finding new life in old downtown roots.

Rather than stripping the patina with attempts to make it seem new, the glow of time on architecture is a sacred gift. Changes should preserve that sense of age, even while updating for environmental and functional purposes. Historic buildings are more like trees than bricks and mortar and need gentle interventions, with new work claiming its own age.

The Myth of Justification: A Rebirth

Restoration honors deeper culture that resurrects both the place and the people, recognizing the best in traditions and in future hope. Working with that ethos weaves an entirely new union and builds the foundation for a distinct, strengthened community. Rather than deleting the old, erasing our architectural memory with a blank slate, the partnership of the Church of the Resurrection and the Grand Avenue Temple represents a sacred bond of rebirth.

Mircea Eliade called this journey a Myth of Justification. When a tribal ritual lost its relevance, say a familiar water hole dried up, the elders had to adjust the mythic narrative to embrace new watering spots. The new story became a new way of life, and the tribe became more resilient with hope for future generations. The Temple represents new resilience for a young super church and will become part of the COF’s mythic story.

Sometimes a church’s sacred mission can be found much closer to home.

Kansas City – the whole city, not just one small part — is the true winner. Other cities and churches, take note!!


Grand Avenue Temple

Church of the Resurrection

Grand Avenue image by Neal1960, Flickr:

Kansas City Star article Mary Sanchez 15 Oct 2009 A4