In most of the U.S., driver’s license applications include an organ donation option. The decision to permit medical professionals to harvest our body parts after our death is an existential moment. We are reminded not only of our mortality but also of the potential for our bodies to give life to someone else.
Architects and building owners do not have a similar donation checkbox for buildings, and yet a similar phenomenon occurs. All buildings have a limited life span, and in most cases, there are serviceable components that may be salvaged for new uses post-demolition. As engineer Michael Ashby reminds us, a building’s life span is determined by one of six factors: physical condition; functionality; technical, economic or legal considerations; and desirability. Only one factor—physical condition—might make it impossible to reuse building materials. And yet most architects are focused solely on the life, not the afterlife, of the buildings we design.
But things are changing, thanks to growing awareness of the volume of demolition waste. According to the Environmental Protection Agency, over 600 million tons of construction and demolition waste (CDW) were generated in 2018—more than twice the amount of municipal solid waste (MSW). The construction and demolition debris sent to landfills increased by nearly 11.5 million tons between 2015 and 2018. But in a more promising trend, the amount of CDW used to manufacture new products increased by twice that amount during the same period. In 2018, the amount of CDW diverted to manufacture new products—131.6 million tons—was nearly on-par with the amount landfilled (143.8 million tons). The debris reused for aggregate—a primary ingredient in concrete—also increased by 19.4 million tons during that three-year period and, at a total of 313 million tons in 2018, was over twice the amount landfilled.
WasteBasedBricks by StoneCycling
Architectural salvage operations can help repurpose construction and demolition waste as new products. Jacksonville, Fla.-based Eco Relics stockpiles reclaimed building materials that it sources via purchasing or donation and will coordinate pick-ups and “strip-outs” (selective non-structural deconstruction) as needed. The company primarily stores wood products (lumber, hardwoods, flooring) as well as brick, pavers, doors, windows, and ornamental ironwork.
Baltimore-based Brick+Board is a similar operation that offers reclaimed wood, brick, and ornamental components. While salvaged materials must be assessed for wear-and-tear, Brick+Board reminds potential customers that “they don’t make ’em like they used to”—referring to the superior quality of many older building materials compared with today’s offerings.
The effort to convert construction and demolition waste into useful products has also inspired the launch of specialized companies. Amsterdam-based StoneCycling, manufacturers of the increasingly popular WasteBasedBricks, transforms pulverized mineral demolition debris into new masonry units. The company is quickly growing to meet demand, and its bricks are appearing in more international projects. Its largest building yet is currently under construction in New York and represents the repurposing of over half a million pounds of debris.
A Tempo Easy Chair, designed by Jorge Diego Etienne
Monterrey, Mexico-based Jorge Diego Etienne, meanwhile, has designed Tempo, a collection of furniture made with wood waste generated from the construction of public housing. Created in partnership with Fábrica Social de Techo A.C., a nonprofit organization that builds emergency housing in underserved communities, the furniture makes resourceful use of off-cuts. The profits from the sales are reinvested in Fábrica Social de Techo’s operations.
Designer Singh Intrachooto similarly creates furniture from construction debris. His Bangkok-based firm, Osisu, bases its designs on the specific materiality and dimensions of the unwanted scraps generated by a project. For example, the O Stool was developed in collaboration with ArchitectKidd as that local firm was designing the Lightmos Showroom in Bangkok. The building façade was constructed using white aluminum composite panels that were perforated with holes of varying diameters, so Intrachooto used the residual circles of material as seats for its stools, wrapping them in waste construction wood for support. This collaboration demonstrates the benefits of simultaneously considering the design of a project and the design of the waste its construction will generate.
In projects of historical and cultural value, however, the repurposing of material components can raise unsettling concerns. For example, many of the 19th-century rowhouses in Baltimore’s economically depressed west side are being razed for their valuable materials—some of which are being repurposed to make new furniture. It is sad to witness these striking edifices—which once housed immigrant families during a time of heady industrial growth—demolished and turned into media cabinets. But as the Economist reports, a far greater number of rowhouses will end up razed simply because they are dilapidated beyond reuse. Thus, as macabre as it may seem, it is better to have an organ donation option for architecture. All buildings must one day fail, and in their memory we can do worse than give their viable materials second lives.
