We are ten perspectives further; time to reflect. What are the clear insights? How does this shape our preliminary definition of Design for Generations? A look behind the scenes of ongoing research.
Expedition Design for Generations
We began this project with an intuition about what ‘design for generations’ is. This is a term we assign to design intended for the long term, design that creates a positive connection with future generations. Something you want to pass down from generation to generation. We view design in the broadest sense of the word; from ritual to landscape, from utilitarian object to system. We believe that design for generations helps us break with habits that deplete our planet and that it encourages an age-old, regenerative connection with it.
With these principles in mind, over the past two years, we have collected a range of concrete examples, from the practices of indigenous peoples to initiatives of today’s makers. We place these side by side. In the collection, you’ll find examples like Kintsugi – an ancient Japanese repair technique; the library – the embodiment of borrowing and passing on; Svalbard Global Seed Vault – a database of all seeds in the world that must secure our future food supply, but also the ‘rights of nature’, examples from bio-based construction and ancient cooling systems.
As the collection grew, the need became more significant to also seek lessons from leading designers, thinkers, and makers of today; those who are committed to leaving a good legacy for our future generations. We spoke with professionals across different fields of knowledge, from ecology to technology and from product design to social design. We asked them how they incorporate the long term in their work and how they bring people along in a mission that might hurt in the here and now but bears fruit later.
Three core values of Design for Generations
Below we share three core values of Design for Generations that have presented themselves in different forms; in other words, from different contexts, yet with significant overlap. Approaching these values in design choices is therefore relevant to a diversity of design fields.
The core values
Design for Generations safeguards the right of future generations
“Young people must be more involved in the debates. They will live in that future. They must be listened to.” – Kim van Sparrentak
We are connected to a society that transcends time. We share our environment with those in the past and those in the future. Include the future generation as a stakeholder in the design process. You can also consider other silent voices from that future, such as other animal species and bodies of water. This is an exercise that requires much imagination and empathy, with an important role for creatives and designers.
An illustrative story is the ancient seventh-generation principle. Imagine standing on a timeline with 3 generations of ancestors behind you, yourself in the middle, and 3 generations ahead. The generation at the furthest point in the future is the ‘seventh generation’ and someone who will be born about 60 to 80 years from now. The seventh generation principle originates from the indigenous Haudenosaunee society in North America. They incorporated the right of the seventh generation in their jurisdiction, which influenced everyday to unique issues in society. For these and many traditional peoples, it was unthinkable that today’s interests would take precedence over those of future generations. Thus, the Chief could halt logging for firewood in a cold winter despite possible mortality among the population, because these trees would generate food and shelter for future generations. Today, this is a less recognisable example. However, in our time, we deal with debates about, for example, new energy sources. We spoke with Kim van Sparrentak, member of the European Parliament, about her introduction to the rights of future generations. In her teenage years, she was already a present voice at public hearings about a new nuclear power plant in Zeeland, where she was surprised by the minimal representation of her generation compared to the squadron of baby boomers, who mainly emphasised that a nuclear power plant would be good for employment. “They won’t even be around anymore when that thing is finally built. Young people need to be more involved in these debates. They will live in that future. They must be listened to,” Kim van Sparrentak states.
Design for Generations is tangible in the here and now
“The difficulty with long-term thinking is that it doesn’t easily feel rooted. That connected neighbourhood in the long term can only mean something if it’s also anchored in the here and now.” – Marjolijn van Heemstra
What may take place in the distant future doesn’t easily feel like something we need to care about now. The concerns of the day will often win out. Therefore, good long-term design is also tangible today, so that it’s not just an abstract promise for later, but a concrete experience or improvement in the here and now. This could mean, for example, that plans for an emission-free neighbourhood build in an incentive for residents to participate, such as immediate lower energy costs. You can also make long-term effects relatable to the present to evoke desire, for instance through the use of temporary interventions, art, and immersive design.
For example, the House of the Future – initiated by Melle Smets – doesn’t only have ambitions for a thriving society without gas and gasoline but also offers programming at a neighborhood level where local residents meet. Through cooking workshops, language cafés, and making woollen blankets together, a sense of community and identity is connected to the initiative, ensuring a more robust right of existence for the long term.
It’s a kind of ‘combining of interests’ that developments in climate adaptation often benefit from too. Dirk van Peijpe from De Urbanisten illustrates this with the Water Square in Rotterdam. A square where all the water from surrounding roofs flows to and which serves as water storage in times of flooding. Besides this very practical function, it serves as a public space in dry times, both as a sports field and a space where outdoor services are held by the local church.
An example where there is a noticeable failure to connect in the here and now is mentioned by Marjolijn van Heemstra, who talks about developments in space exploration. A development in which – besides an undeniable financial drive – there is a conviction that the distant future of humanity is at stake and must be saved. “That seems noble, but that focus on the extremely long term betrays an unwillingness to make things better in the here and now,” Marjolijn once wrote as Space Correspondent for De Correspondent. “We are irrevocably outgrowing ourselves here on earth, because people always want more. And so concrete problems here and now must give way to the problems of humanity in an insanely distant future.” And so long-termism can also stretch way too far, and ignore the necessary attitude today…
Design for Generations heeft een kompas
“When we realise that as humans we are part of nature, we don’t design the end result, but the conditions.” – Jannemarie de Jonge
Times change. A new political wind, technological development, or climate effects… anything up to the unpredictable can suddenly sweep concrete drawings, laws, and products off the table. A future-proof design embraces complexity and is adaptive. Work with a compass where the direction is always clear, but meandering is encouraged.
The compass is mentioned by Li An Phoa when we speak with her about the secret behind the ‘Drinkable Rivers’ movement. Drinkable Rivers encompasses the obvious ambition to bring our rivers back into balance and make them drinkable. This requires quite a bit of change and cooperation, which is why Phoa has farmers, administrators, and mayors along the waterline make a commitment. She emphasises that with the commitment people make, she takes the pace of human change into account. That we move from one step to exploring the next step. Through play, the connection with the compass and necessary adaptation deepens.
Landscape architect Jannemarie de Jonge encounters the importance of this in her work around protecting the Wadden Sea. Due to the large number of plots with even more owners and rules that differ from one square meter to the next, coastal protection and dike widening have become incredibly complex. The area is not designed for any movement, let alone constant change or major impact. Although it is designed this way, nature is the only real end-owner. Nature itself is the best and most merciless designer there is. Plot or no plot. Design thinking is the key; constant iteration, improvement steps with current knowledge, a constant – sometimes perhaps painful – but reflective dialogue. “When we realise that as humans we are part of nature, we don’t design the end result, but the conditions,” states Jannemarie de Jonge.
A growing design field
We see Design for Generations as a growing design field that focuses on the rights of future generations, connection in the here and now, and compass-driven, adaptive qualities. From our conversations with leading thinkers and makers, a rich picture emerges of what that can mean in practice. This research also raises important questions that deserve further exploration. How do we deal with the inherent tension between the urgent problems of today and the time needed for well-considered long-term solutions? What is the role of technology? What role do cultural differences play in how we think about legacy? And also how do you sustain design for generations when it’s not profitable for yourself, as a designer; what new business models are needed to support long-term thinking? Do you also have questions or comments? Let us know! On to season 2.
In short
