Human Scale Cities for Human Scale People
The idea of "human scale" seems to have originated in technology: the idea is that technology can be both designed to solve a problem and improve our lives, but also be complex enough that it can have a negative impact on our lives. This could be due to interdependencies that make troubleshooting difficult and failure catastrophic; this could be due to large codebases that are simply too large for anyone but a large enterprise to maintain; or, it could be because competing incentives have persuaded developers to adopt practices that are beneficial to somebody, just not their end users. Thus, "human scale" tech is technology that we can both use and feel good about using. It's understandable, approachable, and does not introduce complexity that renders it unfit for purpose at the individual level.
Of course, the more I thought about human scale technology, the more it became obvious that there was another significant area where we were building outside of the human scale: cities, American cities in particular. These are places people live and work, so why do they seem so hostile to the presence of people?
Placemaking Requires Places #
Of course, I'm not the first person to think about this. Back in 2016, "New Yorkers for a Human Scale City" were fighting zoning changes they felt would prioritize the needs of property developers over the needs of citizens.
In general, people advocating for human scale development ask that developers build in a way that is consistent with the way that we interact with places. This is important for "placemaking:" looking at development as more than just a means to an end, but as an intersection of people, who in turn form communities and businesses that occupy those developments and give them a particular character or feeling. A "sense of place," if you will.
This is contrasted, for example, with "automotive scale" and "monolithic scale." Let's peel off and talk about these other kinds of development, because I think that by understanding what isn't human scale, it becomes much easier to see how rare true human-centric development is in the United States.
Boring Streets Make Boring Communities #
Where human scale assumes that pedestrians are the ones who interact with places, automotive scale assumes that drivers are the primary interacters. An automotive scale development is going to have larger street/road hybrids (stroads, perhaps?) with higher speed limits, flanked by automotive-friendly parking lots and parking structures. Even things like sinage have to scale up, so that they're legible from a vehicle moving at 30-50 miles per hour. The end result is large retail and residential developments, set far back from the main roads, with traffic controls designed to facilitate the movement of cars, not the movement of people. Large parking lots aren't just overbuilt for the needs of the community, they create moats that force pedestrians to walk longer distances to get to shopping or entertainment.
Monolithic scale architecture, meanwhile, can mean a few things, but as the name implies, generally refers to places that are too large to be easily navigable by people. This can be intentional; many government buildings are built to a monolithic scale to project security and stability. The human-hostile scale may be intentional: governments and property owners who maintain large structures like office towers may not want these places to be attractive gathering places.
Monolithic scale can also be a side effect of developer intent, as in the case of downtown shopping malls, which are bult more like fortresses than they are like retail spaces. In these cases, the mall isn't created to enliven the existing downtown space, but to draw in people and keep them there. The shoppers are not the target audience for a downtown mall: the chain retailers that pay the rent to the property owner are. These malls are ultimately extractive, competing with local retail and taking money out of the community.
Combine the two, and you end up with spaces that resemble American suburban shopping malls. As an extreme example, we might look outside of the US to Dubai: designed and built to be impressive, but with a sense of sterility or functionality that limits the expression of community and sense of place.
In both cases, we see a trend emerging: large structures, little visual variety, and pedestrian hostility (have a pronounced effect)[https://aeon.co/essays/why-boring-streets-make-pedestrians-stressed-and-unhappy] on human psychology. Monotonous, unstimulating facades are boring, and come with the symptoms of boredom: restlessness, fatigue, and stress.
Why Don't We Just... Not? #
The obvious question now, is that if large scale development is bad for community development and creates spaces that are unsafe or innavigable to pedestrians, why don't we build more of the alternative? Property values in historic downtown areas often keep pace with, if not surpass, values in surrounding areas, so why don't we make more spaces like them?
In many parts of the United States, building mixed-use or medium-density development like this is simply illegal. Cities are overwhelmingly zoned for single-family housing or low-density commercial, which limits options. Even in places where this development is possible, lack of transportation options or a lack of will to tie in new developments to existing transport routes limits their viability. "Lifestyle center" developments that incorporate outdoor shopping malls with housing and business may be an intermediary step, but still incorporate large parking lots or structures that make it clear they are automotive developments first, and exist to serve people who drive in to the development.
Perhaps there is something we can do, though. More cities are realizing that the post-war development model is unsustainable and expensive, and that alternatives exist. Even better, these alternatives often focus on incremental, community driven changes that can be done in a way that is respectful of both people and their money.