We often hear the saying that “design for everyone is design for no one,” which certainly has its truths to it. But when applying this saying to public spaces, it’s just as important to consider all the different interactions that can occur in them.
We all use public spaces differently: from catching up with our friends, reading a book, scrolling on our phones, or just enjoying the moment, inclusivity is inherently baked into designing for the public. Though there can be specific kinds of public spaces, the nature of its openness invites people from all walks of life to utilize this space for a multitude of purposes. Some spaces feel more welcoming than others, while some even flat out feel rejecting. Often, this is a conscious decision that decides, who, or what, should feel welcome — even if we subconsciously don’t realize it.
How does design play a role in how we feel when we enter a space?
with the center of the economy transitioning from commodities to services, design has become more important than ever to create appeal and draw people into their spaces. Inclusivity in design is often emphasized — carefully curated to accommodate the largest target demographic possible. But what we often overlook is how design can also repel, driving away people or discouraging certain behaviors deemed undesirable. How do these spaces communicate their rhetoric on what they value?
Also known as defensive design, hostile design is popularly known as “anti-homeless” design through the sharp edges and spikes that litter many public spaces — and are intentionally designed to prevent the homeless from occupying these spaces. Proponents and city officials defend this architecture as necessary to maintain order, ensure public safety, and deter unwanted behaviors such as loitering or skateboarding.
Although these sharp spikes target the homeless, they negatively impact the broader community as well. They act as concrete signals to people that they’re unwanted or unwelcome in a specific space, designed to urge you along. This communicates an invisible rhetoric to the people using these spaces: you’re only welcome if you’re not considered undesirable or if you’re spending money.
Campaign to call out the hostility of designs like “anti-homeless spikes.”
Selena Savic, a post-doctoral fellow at the department of Architecture Theory and Philosophy of Technics, TU Vienna, describes unpleasant design as “being pleasant to the ones that deploy it, and being unpleasant to the behaviour or group of people it is used against.” This architecture often disproportionally targets marginalized or vulnerable populations — making their lives harder and also making public spaces feel less like its for “everyone.”
Metal silhouettes prevent homeless people from sleeping on top of warm ventilation exhausts at a CTrain station in Calgary, Canada.
Camden Bench in London: it’s uneven surfaces are meant to prevent skateboarding or sleeping
Hostile design aren’t just being applied to people, but also wildlife, most commonly birds such as pigeons, to prevent them from resting on common places like window stills or rooftops. Seeing these spikes scattered in even places like trees can be quite jarring and just wholly unwelcoming: all sharp edges to relentlessly repel rather than attract. If birds can even be excluded from their natural habitats on trees, who’s to say you’re not next on the list of what’s considered “undesirable”?