Rabia Charef of Lancaster University, and sociologist and author Frantz Gault, invite designers to rethink how we build – and shift from a human-centred mindset to one where nature is a partner, not just a resource.
What if architects and engineers didn’t design against nature, but for it? Imagine if the common constraints that architects face, like the topography of a site’s terrain, trees, nonhuman life and even the wetlands, rocky slopes, or nesting birds, were seen not as obstacles to be removed, but as collaborators in a design.
Although construction is essential to our well being, it is also a major disruptor of ecosystems. Did you know that the construction sector is responsible for around 37% of global CO2 emissions? It also consumes more than half of all the world’s raw materials, including about 75% of the sand extracted. This voracious appetite inevitably leads to habitat loss and pollution, and contributes to the sixth mass extinction our planet is enduring. The question now is how to continue providing homes and cities without ruining the natural systems that support us, especially in the context of a growing population housing demand.
For too long, the construction sector has silenced nature, treating it as an unlimited ‘bank of commodities,’ or a nuisance to be engineered out. But that worldview is beginning to change, thanks to a growing body of anthropological studies reasserting the value of alternative philosophies of nature.
Anthropologist Tim Ingold, for instance, describes constructing as a conversation with materials and the environment, not a one sided act of domination. He urges designers and makers to follow the natural flows, rhythms, and capacities of the environment they are working in. Ingold invites builders and architects to embrace making not as imposing form on inert matter, but as an act of co-creation, much like weaving strands in a rope, where form arises from active interplay.
More recently, Frantz Gault has suggested going further. Through his concept of natura laborata (“nature at work”), he considers nature as a working partner that should be cared for and listened to, with whom we should negotiate in order to provide good working conditions to ecosystems. In the construction sector context, this would mean considering nature as an active participant in projects, effectively giving ecosystems a seat at the decision-making table, alongside other stakeholders such as architects, engineers, planners, builders, customers and users.
It’s not just about eco-friendly aesthetics. It’s a systemic shift from human-centred to multi-species design. And it has already begun. Business leaders are experimenting with nature-inclusive governance: the beauty firm Faith in Nature has recently appointed ‘Nature’ to its board of directors. Similarly, the owners of software firm Norsys gave their shares to an NGO that represents nature, including veto rights on the board of directors. In France, new trade unions are even created to defend nature’s rights in the corporate world.
What if the construction sector followed suit? Gault’s ‘natura laborata’ challenges us to understand that nature is already at work and deserves a seat at the decision making table, but he also asks us: which status should we thus give to nature? In the construction sector, should we consider nature as a worker, as a supplier, as a contractor or as a customer? A glimpse into a few visionary projects around the world could help answer this question.
In Lyon, France, an office building L’Orangerie is supported by 14 unreinforced rammed earth arches, using the soil beneath our feet as a construction material. Almost all of the project’s materials come from local sources (earth from a nearby excavation site, stone from a local quarry, timber from regional forests), resulting in a very low-carbon structure. Its thick pisé rammed earth walls naturally regulate indoor temperature and humidity, freely contributing to modern comfort through ancient means. L’Orangerie (pictured above) demonstrates that an office building can be designed considering local ecosystems as suppliers, whom we care for in return.
On a very different frontier, in New Mexico, Earthship Biotecture has popularised autonomous homes built from society’s waste. Earthships are self-sufficient houses made of recycled earth-filled tyres, bottles and cans. They generate their own energy, collect rainwater, reuse wastewater, and maintain comfortable indoor temperatures using sunlight instead of fuel. By working with sun, wind and soil, Earthship communities show that nature can be a partner we are working with. It also reminds us of the value of anthropology, as these communities are deeply influenced by the local Navajo culture, which treats nature as a respected living being.
In Milan, the Bosco Verticale (“Vertical Forest”) integrates hundreds of trees and some 20,000 plants into two residential towers. This ‘vertical forest’ absorbs CO2 and fine dust, produces oxygen, reduces noise and refreshes the ambient air. With more than 90 plant species on its facades, it has attracted birds and insects back to the city centre. Bosco Verticale shows that even high-density housing can nurture ecosystems. Although this example is not perfect, some argue that the CO2 absorbed by its trees may be outweighed by the emissions from constructing a structure strong enough to support them. The Bosco Verticale could be considered as an example where nature is seen as a client, where the construction project delivers services to ecosystems.
These examples show that working with nature – not against it – is not a utopia: it is a concrete reality and already underway, as Gault also shows us in his book La nature au travail. Each project reduces the environmental footprint of construction while adding new value: cleaner air, energy savings, carbon storage and urban biodiversity. Furthermore, they represent a tangible step toward rethinking our relationship with nature in construction. Yet they remain rare exceptions.
There are some clear recommendations if the construction sector is to operate a systemic shift from human-centred to multi-species design.
First, adopt nature as a partner, not a mere commodity. Select materials for their ability to ‘work with’ local climates, humidity, and ecosystems, rather than forcing them into unsuitable conditions through high-energy processing. Favour reversible and adaptive construction methods that allow buildings to evolve alongside the changing needs of their ecosystems, designing for repair, disassembly, and reuse wherever possible. Treat site features such as mature trees, natural watercourses, and microclimates as structural assets, not obstacles; they can guide building placement, orientation, and material choice.
Second, establish project governance models where ‘nature’ is formally represented by appointing an independent ecological board with decision making power alongside architects, engineers, and developers. Involve ecologists, soil scientists, and local communities at the earliest design stages, ensuring that biodiversity and natural flows shape the project brief as much as engineering and budget constraints. Partner with young designers (like the French Zoepolis collective, who create design processes in order to take nonhuman life interests into account.)
Imagine if every project team included an ecologist to speak on behalf of local soils, waters and wildlife. Imagine if nature were treated as a client to satisfy, as a decisive partner for the success of every project, and not as an obstacle to overcome. This may seem ambitious, but the construction industry must now choose: continue with business as usual, eroding the natural systems we rely on, or lead the shift toward regenerative design. By bringing it to the decision making table for every project, we can design buildings that respect ecosystems and generations to come. As philosopher Jostein Gaarder has argued, the principle of reciprocity should apply not only to space but also to time: we should do to the next generation what we would wish them to do for us. Nature is already at work, repairing and preserving the planet. It is time for the construction industry to join that effort and ensure that the homes and cities we build support life, not degrade it.
Rabia Charef is researcher, architect, and expert in circular economy at Lancaster University, and Frantz Gault is sociologist and author of ‘La Nature au travail’