Across South America, architecture is increasingly being understood as a collective act. Rather than imposing external views, many studios and designers are building with and for communities, learning from their local practices, materials, and ways of inhabiting. These projects are repositioning the architect's role from an author to a facilitator, transforming design into a participatory process that centers collaboration, care, and mutual respect.
What unites these efforts is not style or scale, but a shared belief: architecture emerges from collective dialogue, not imposition. From rural Ecuador to the urban peripheries of Brazil, Colombia, and Paraguay, these projects reveal how social engagement and local making produce spaces that are sustainable not only environmentally but also socially. They respond to inequality not through top-down solutions, but through co-authorship, offering spaces that reflect the needs, knowledge, and agency of the people who use them.
Edinburgh Castle in Scotland’s Capital. Image by 瑞丽江的河水, via Wikimedia Commons (CC BY-SA 4.0)
Edinburgh, Scotland's capital, has long been recognized for its rich cultural history and intricate urban fabric. The city thrives within its museums, tenement housing, and shops nestled in Georgian buildings. In 2022, Time Out ranked Edinburgh as the world's best city, citing its efficiency across community building and urban systems such as public transport. However, as climate change makes its effects progressively visible at an urban level, the city inevitably runs into a pressing dilemma: how to sustain this quality of life in increasingly difficult conditions.
The journey toward this balance unfolds through several interconnected strategies, such as retrofitting, adaptive reuse, circular design, and community collaboration, each contributing to Edinburgh's evolving vision of a sustainable urban future.
Domestic workers in Hong Kong and Singapore are the city's quiet infrastructure. In Hong Kong alone, there are a total of roughly 300,000 domestic workers, serving a portion of the approximate 2.7 million households. Their care labor sustains dual-income family routines: childcare, eldercare, cooking, cleaning, and the everyday logistics that make professional life possible. Yet the people who hold this balance together remain largely invisible in policy—and, crucially, in space.
On Sundays in Hong Kong's financial district, that invisibility becomes visible. Elevated walkways and podium forecourts—underused on weekends—turn into ad-hoc commons. With cardboard mats, small tents, towels, food and water, and a music speaker or two, domestic workers assemble places to sit, rest, and socialize. These improvised rooms in the city are often their only chance to exercise spatial agency—something they rarely have in the homes they maintain or in formal public infrastructure. In the absence of sanctioned, serviced places for rest, quieter bridges and passages become practical stand-ins.
In contemporary urban development, the concept of Privately Owned Public Space (POPS) has gained increasing prominence. These are spaces that, while built, owned, and maintained by private developers, are legally required to remain publicly accessible. Often the result of negotiated planning incentives—such as zoning bonuses or increased floor area—POPS have become especially prevalent in dense urban environments where land is limited and demand for public amenities is high.
The concept of inclusive architecture has gained prominence as the built environment evolves to reflect and address the diverse needs of humanity. This approach prioritizes empathy, accessibility, and equity, striving to create spaces that resonate with individuals across a spectrum of demographics, abilities, and cultural contexts. It moves beyond merely meeting accessibility standards or incorporating universal design elements; instead, it embodies a paradigm shift that humanizes architecture and aligns it with fundamental social values. Through this lens, inclusive architecture fosters connections, embraces diversity, and ensures that physical spaces contribute to collective well-being.
This article explores four interrelated themes — Empathy, Inclusive Architecture, and Spatial Equity and Accessibility— through selected articles published in 2024. Together, these themes reveal how architecture can respond to societal challenges and aspirations, illustrating its potential as a catalyst for social change. From designing for emotional connection to addressing spatial inequalities, the lessons of 2024 emphasize the responsibility of architects to create spaces that transcend functionality, champion inclusivity at every scale, and foster environments where everyone feels seen, valued, and empowered.
As a result of the nation’s ardent aspirations for growth and development, the social, economic, and physical landscape of India has transformed. A significant portion of the region’s population is of working age and comprises a massive market size, making India a land of opportunity especially in the eyes of foreign investors.
Reflecting this context, multiple mega-cities and mega-projects characterize the built environment and push the nation toward superpower status. On the flip side of the coin, these visionary projects along with the trend of rapid urbanization also bring in a range of side effects - the spread of informal settlements and in turn, the challenges to equitable development.
The format for Blair Kamin’ latest book, Who Is the City For? is slightly different from typical compilations. Kamin groups his columns thematically (all 55 appeared in the Chicago Tribune, when he served as architecture critic), and then, more often than not, adds a postscript updating or reframing the story for our fraught new normal. One of the recurring themes, both in the stories and in the postscripts, is the issue of design equity. As income inequality, systemic racism, and climate change became central to the cultural and political debates, equity became the critical lens for much design criticism. In our recent conversation, Kamin advocated for a broader definition of the term.
https://www.archdaily.com/1019288/blair-kamin-on-reframing-the-crucial-issue-of-design-equityMartin C. Pedersen
In the early 2000s, an abandoned rail line in Manhattan sat decaying - a memory from a time when freight trains traveled straight through the city. To most citizens, it was a site destined for demolition. However, a few visionary residents saw an opportunity in this neglected space and advocated to transform it into a public green space for the community. The success of the project seemed to spark a "High Line Effect", inspiring other American cities to pursue civic infrastructure on outdated railways, roadways, and industrial sites.
If you follow housing policy in America, you may have noticed a particular term cropping up a lot recently: social housing. Maybe you’ve read a longform academic article, live in a city that is codifying a social-housing policy like Seattle or Atlanta, or seen one of the recent mentions in The New York Times, highlighting U.S. and Viennese success stories. On the design front, Dezeen is running a social-housing revival series.
Contemporary cityscapes vary greatly from their early precedents, hosting urban life in sprawling interior spaces like mega-hotels, shopping malls, and transportation hubs. Soaring atriums and expansive concourses are now a normal part of the urban experience, allowing for public activity 'inside' the city. Interiors and urbanism are often considered at far ends of the spatial spectrum, with architecture serving as a mediator between the two. The growing significance of 'interior urbanism' in the functioning of the built environment demands the question - how can cities be reinvented from the inside out?
The COVID-19 pandemic has seen inequalities laid bare, especially when it pertains to the unequal allotment of architectural resources to people. The start of the pandemic saw Europeans who could afford it, for example, leaving the urban metropolises they lived in and going away to their second homes in the countryside. We’ve also seen how poorer people in places like New York, for example, do not have adequate access to green spaces – a critical part of human well-being. Within this conversation is also the issue of social housing - known by multiple names around the world - and how the social housing that gets designed in the present and in the future should respond to ever-changing global needs.
Sanders highlighted the results of a five-year assessment of the LAF fellowship program and its efforts to grow the next generation of diverse landscape architecture leaders. The assessment shows that past fellows are shaping the future of the built environment in key public, non-profit, and private sector roles.
With many high streets hollowing out and the National Health Services Association pushed to its limits, Heatherwick Studio is calling for a new kind of health space in metropolitan cities. The Health Street initiative is placed right at the heart of urban communities, reimagining the way we look at well-being and the holistic health of complete localities. Moreover, this radical approach to health creation is based on integrating community-led facilities into the local high streets.
It is a great privilege to amplify the voice of architects and other built environment professionals. It is also an enormous challenge as it requires a lot of investigation and time from our content team. However, the effort is gratifying. It puts us in contact with some of the most prominent talents in our field who have been discussing subjects such as cities, metaverse, community, environment, democracy, sustainability, building technology and interiors, to mention just a few.
The end of the summer season is usually marked by crowds rushing to public pools to enjoy their final days splashing around the water. Public pools are much more complex than the fenced-in, chlorinated, and noisy bodies of water that they may seem to be. A delicate history and many socio-economic influences lie beneath the surface and dictate who gets to go for a swim. What happens when pools shift towards becoming private property and a sort of status symbol, and when these public spaces aren’t intended for everyone?
If you’re reading this right now, or have read an article on ArchDaily, it’s because you were in a place that enabled you to connect to the internet. Think about a time when you found yourself in a dead zone, where the internet was lagging and you were unable to connect your computer to WiFi to finish an assignment or even without the ability to connect your phone to quickly Google something. You likely dashed to the nearest coffee shop, or place where WiFi was more reliable, just to have the feeling of being online again. The internet, in an ideal world, is equally open to all providing access to knowledge and the ability to easily connect with others. But what happens when you don’t have internet? How is your life impacted if you’re on the wrong side of the digital divide and live in an area without broadband access?
Design Justice is a branch of architecture and design focused on redesigning cities, products, services and environments with historic reparations in mind.
The term emerged about 7 years ago when debates and dialogues about inclusion and diversity in spaces started to get stronger, creating movements that fought for the rights of people who had their roots and choices denied in society.
Ethical practice spans all parts of architecture. From intersectionality and labor to the climate crisis, a designer must work with a range of conditions and contexts that inform the built environment and the process of its creation. Across cultures, policies and climates, architecture is as much functional and aesthetic as it is political, social, economic, and ecological. By addressing the ethics of practice, designers can reimagine the discipline's impact and who it serves.
