THE ARGUMENT FOR THE SPECULATIVE

The realm of the speculative deals with scenarios that cannot be realized in the world we live in. It is a testing ground for what may be. As architects, we speculate on the spatial implications of alternate universes. We suspend physics and explore society without gravity, envision the possibilities of a perpetual motion machine, or imagine a world where everyone lives together in harmony. In that way, we are philosophers conducting thought experiments.

In the battle between the abstract and the tangible, architects and architecture have firmly had one foot in both camps. We understand the requirements for space and think about how future residents might use it and design a spatial construct as an output of our thoughts. The Architecture reflects the architects thoughts and desires for a space in solid walls just as much as an ephemeral sliver of light.

The argument against the speculation is that it falls too far into the realm of the abstract. That is merely unfounded for a meaningful speculative project. Anybody can speculate about any of the aforementioned scenarios. Maybe if we lived in a no gravity world, we would all float everywhere, or we'd live in a giant dome; there are a million possibilities. Speculative Architecture goes beyond casual musings; it is a careful investigation of any one of these scenarios. It doesn't just ask what would happen if there was no gravity. It fully embraces the hypothetical and realizes spaces within it. It traces the logic of the theoretical as far as the medium allows it.

The first time I seriously considered the value of the speculative was the semester after my speculative studio. I designed a center for climate change research in Austin, one of a series of nine located in various cities worldwide. I was interested in architecturalizing climate systems on a global scale. This idea physically manifested in a series of climate-controlled bubbles, each representing the climate of one of the cities in which the other centers were located. As the temperature in a city rose, the corresponding bubble would expand. The airflow in the bubbles is interconnected, as is the global climate system. The trend towards heating will cause an expansion that gradually blocks off access to parts of the building until it eventually bursts in an explosion.

Clearly, this was a speculative project that disregarded the core tenant of architecture, human safety. Yet it has been one of the most profound explorations into the human condition that I've done during a project. While researching the climate catastrophes across the various cities worldwide, I began to understand what a climate that would make entire cities uninhabitable would entail. Imagining millions of people displaced and whole societies abandoned is a hard concept to digest, and I wanted to communicate that spatially. I explored how people would interact with this speculative system, thought about its ramifications on the surrounding neighborhood, and investigated how it might change our collective consciousness. I am not egotistical to believe one speculation is enough for people's beliefs about climate change, but I recognize the power of an idea and exploring its potential.

I can think about and speak about these climate bubbles for eternity, but it isn't until I produce and explore it through plan, section, render that I understand its spatial consequences. Speculative Architecture offers endless freedom in the design process; convention takes a backseat when the building is in space, the plans don't need North arrows, and the sections don't need ground lines. However, a lack of convention and "regular" conditions isn't an excuse for lack of rigor. In fact, it puts the burden on the architect instead of standards and conventions to contextualize and ground the project.

Buckmister Fuller's "Dome over Manhattan" proposed a two-mile diameter glass dome over Manhattan is shocking. It's a provocative exploration of the structural limits of the geodesic sphere and a commentary on America's addiction to climate-controlled spaces. The speculative aspect of this proposal is its seemingly comical size. Still, Fuller explores the proposition thoughtfully and proves its structural feasibility by calculating the energy load to climate control the dome to be a fraction of the cost to control each building individually. Economics makes sense, but we don't have a "Dome over Manhattan," and unless there's a dramatic change in the way we interact with the world, this will remain speculation.

Yet, anyone who has seen the visualization of the project can conjure an image of it to mind. It persists in the collective architectural consciousness like a visual earworm that's impacted, countless architects. I don't recall referencing the project as I was working on the "Climate Bubbles" project, but when I flipped through old sketchbooks, sure enough, there's a sketch of this colossal dome with a note of intrigue and awe at such a bold proposal.

Almost everything we do in design school is speculative. At the best schools, students are encouraged to pursue crazy speculative ideas and commit to making them a reality on paper over the course of the semester. This inspires a certain "save the world" attitude that's so often lost in practice when budgets, codes, and coordinations constrain the purity of design intent. While budgets and deadlines might not allow for a full-on studio project-level deep dive in professional practice, appreciating and allowing oneself to realize the potential of exploring the speculative is integral to becoming a more innovative designer.