With David Wann’s Deep Design, the interest – or is it fascination – with the book is aptly described in its title. Design is used here in the context of an integrative process involving more than two variables or disciplines. Wann stretches the meaning of design to its limits, but in so doing he introduces the notion that our lives are influenced by design at all levels -from the artistic to the process of thought itself.

Ecological and environmental issues have risen high on the agenda of interest groups ranging from politicians, architects and engineers to environmentalists and local activists. The result has been that one of the key measures accepted by all parties to design decisions is that of environmental impact. But here we run into difficulties: how do we assess environmental impact in a way that can be understood by all? How are we to decide whether a conservation project is viable or not?

The concept relied on to reach such decisions is value. Now value, when expressed in a purely economic or monetary sense, fails miserably as a tool for assessing environmental issues. How do you place a value on the damage done today to the environment for future generations? In the past, it has been easy for the financial lobby to pick off the environmental lobby as woolly thinkers at best and charlatans at worst for their less than rigorous attitude to cost.

There have been many attempts to create a satisfactory cost-benefit analysis that takes into account the costs to future generations of present decisions, but they have all failed. We do accept established engineering and scientific procedures such as life-cycle costing, but even these are difficult to implement because the rationale behind such approaches (which is usually “pay now to save later”) fall on deaf ears in the hard commercial world. It is not easy to persuade people to invest now and reap the rewards later, even on clear-cut issues.

Unfortunately, there are many environmental processes that we cannot begin to be quantify in terms that are as easily understood. Some design decisions may even have negative values, appearing at first sight to increase costs. For example, if we use a simple measure such as the cost of fuel as an input to determine the value of a project, it may appear more expensive because the cost of fuel should include the financial implications of its use in the wider world. What is needed is a mechanism to value these wider implications in a way that has an agreed meaning for everyone.

This is a task that is easier to describe than to implement. While Wann fails to address this particular issue in a quantitative sense, he does in a qualitative way. Deep design is the simple but powerful idea of assigning value to environmental issues; it is a synthesis of nature and culture if you like. The power of the idea lies in its ability to encompass the tangible and intangible within the same philosophy.

Wann makes the harsh reality of cost-effectiveness sit easily alongside sustainability and aesthetics. In recognising flaws in our value system, deep design allows the wider issues to be explored within a holistic framework. Its opposite, shallow design, limits itself to short-term objectives. To use this concept is counterintuitive in discussions concerning the environment that tend toward the long term by their very nature.

Having tempted the reader with the tantalising notion of ecological process, design and value, how does Wann suggest applying it in the real world? By his own admission, Deep Design is more about thinking than doing, and I found it to be none the worse for that. In fact, it could be argued successfully that a positive change in the way we think about such issues is needed before real progress can be made in the material world. For that reason alone, I found Deep Design a welcome addition to the library.

Where Wann does give us some examples and applications of the theory, he covers them well, although, to be fair, they do not grab the imagination in the way that his philosophical argument does. They are ordinary, small-scale projects that, while interesting in themselves, tend to be depressing in their very smallness. Perhaps the spectrum is too wide; looking at everything from agriculture to renewable energy sources is a tall order and Wann really only skims the surface, in spite of the wealth of information he sets before us.

One of the more successful examples concerns PCs. By the year 2005, more than 150 million PCs and workstations will have been dispatched to landfill sites. The sheer number is overwhelming, but it does make you think about the future disposal of objects that are at the cutting edge of technology today.

Then, for good measure, he introduces the simple fact that semiconductors and printed circuit boards contain metals, such as lead and chromium, whose salts can leach into the ground over time and pollute water supplies. And, of course, as Wann reminds us, the manufacture of semiconductors also generates an enormous variety and amount of liquid and gaseous waste. In isolation, these would be no more than interesting snippets, but cumulatively they are very telling.

Sustainability or the need for it underpins the whole of Wann’s thinking. This example of the mass burial of PCs is more of a plea for recycling than an argument for cleaning up the manufacturing process. But, as ever with this book, the author is more concerned to raise questions than answer them. When the details of individual cases have migrated to the backwater of the brain, Wann’s underlying message remains that we have to change for the better our notions of design and value.

If you want a more practical treatise, however, turn to Ecological Design. It may appear to be similar but that similarity ends with the contents page. For while Wann explores design as a process, Sim van der Ryn and Stuart Cowan examine design in the context of construction and planning.

Van der Ryn is an architect and Cowan a mathematician, but overall there is more of an architectural feel about the presentation and style. A sense of ecological evangelism pervades the book. Not a bad thing in itself, but it sits less easily here than in Deep Design where the power of the idea as a process carries all before it. The examples and references in Ecological Design are its strong point.

Adapting to the local climate is the key to a successful ecological building design. A good example of this approach is the Bateson Building in Sacramento designed by the Californian State Architect with the explicit goal of reducing energy consumption by 75 per cent. A study of the local climate highlighted a phenomenon that was to play a significant role in the building design. Summers in Sacramento are hot – it is not unusual for the daytime temperature to average 40 °C for a week or more. But at night temperatures dip as low as 14 °C because of the cool air creeping up the Sacramento River from San Francisco Bay. This unusually wide diurnal temperature variation became the driving force for an innovative design. Rather than cool the building by conventional refrigeration machinery that contains quantities of ozone-depleting chemicals, the climate is put to useful effect. The square block surrounds a central atrium beneath which are placed hundreds of tonnes of rock. During the hot summer days, the building’s heat is absorbed by the thermal mass of the rock. At night, large fans flush the stored thermal energy into the cool evening air. This massive thermal capacitor effectively smooths the extremes of outdoor climate to provide a habitable office. You could argue that there’s nothing new in this, but that would be missing the point. It is the application of these principles to a large modern building that matters -something often talked about, rarely done.

But I am still waiting for a book that combines deep design principles, sound practical example and a resource reference guide – now that would really be something.

Audubon House is the new headquarters of the National Audubon Society
in New York. Not a household name outside the US, I was surprised to learn
that the society is a $45-million-a-year enterprise devoted to ecological
and environmental matters. Who better, then, than the society itself to
construct its own new headquarters along sound environmental principles?

To the outsider, the process of design and building is a mystery. Few
realise the complexity of its interdisciplinary nature, and so they have
little or no understanding of the key players and their roles. While ‘contractor’
and ‘architect’ are instantly recognised job titles, what of the engineer,
the cost consultant, specialist advisers and last but not least, the client?
How is a building designed? What are the objectives? Who guides the process
and, more importantly in this case, how are environmental concerns dealt
with in a hard-nosed commercial atmosphere? Construction is a tough business.

The authors have set themselves a difficult task in attempting to describe
the process of design within an environmental framework. Their credentials
are sound and their reasons honourable, but the end result is uninspiring
by European and Scandinavian standards. Yet, while the building itself may
lack sparkle, an excellent job is made of describing the process of its
construction. In many respects, it has the floor to itself because there
are few books written on the subject of design and even fewer on environmental
design. For that reason if no other it is welcome.

Architects and engineers are becoming increasingly concerned with the
environmental impact of their building designs. Hand in hand with this is
the recognition that the fully air-conditioned, cocooned environment is
not all it is cracked up to be. If people are divorced from contact with
the outside world they are prone to focus attention on the negative aspects
of their indoor environment. Sick building syndrome affects a significant
proportion of our buildings, and not just those that are air-conditioned,
I might add. A contributory factor is the lack of understanding of the human
need for sunlight and contact with the outside world. Sensory stimulation
is essential for our wellbeing, so we need to question processes by which
the constant-temperature, artificially lit and sealed interior is arrived
at.

In the ideal world, such interiors would have no place – and here lies
a major weakness in the book’s argument. It is presumed that the reader
accepts the necessity for air conditioning at Audubon House. No argument
is put forward to support this fundamental decision. New York is hot and
humid in summer, and cold in winter, but the authors do not explore the
possibility of a passively cooled alternative. In fact, rigorous argument
about the choices open to the society is lacking throughout.

In choosing to adapt an eight-storey, 100 000 square foot, turn-of-the-century
warehouse in lower Manhattan, the society missed the opportunity of developing
a radical new building, perhaps in a different location. The reason for
choosing central New York is not even mentioned, which I found surprising.
Even so, the quantum leap from a passive (natural) design to an active (air-conditioned)
one is uncharted territory. Air conditioning is relatively new, so old buildings
tend to be of heavy construction with small windows and thick walls to control
the excesses of climate. This warehouse is no exception – so why not discuss
a design which harnesses the characteristics of the building and uses the
thermal inertia of the structure and walls as a climate moderator?

Even if it was eventually discounted, the thinking behind such an obviously
green approach would have given an interesting insight into the decision
to go active. We are not told if it was considered. Only a cynic would believe
commercial pressure overrode ecological sense or, worse still, that it was
a non-decision.

I wish that the authors had been more open-minded on this matter. Green
thinking is more than optimising a far from ideal model, although the Audubon
team does this admirably. It is about radical thought, where human needs
and perception are clearly defined in the context of an environmental framework.
The starting point is a natural habitat. If termites can regulate their
nests to within 1 degree C of 31 degree C with ambient temperatures between
3 degree C and 43 degree C, then surely it is not beyond the wit of man
to do likewise.

Sustainable office development may not be a real option but the materials
that make up a building need to be chosen with care. This important aspect
is well covered, with an environmental scientist from the Audubon Society
assigned to the team. One intriguing material used for insulating the main
walls is a cementatious foam made with magnesium compounds extracted from
seawater. It contains no CFCs and has a high thermal performance.

Considerable thought is given to the health of the building’s occupants.
So not only is the toxicity of the materials to be used surveyed, but also
the ventilation itself is designed to deliver above-average quantities of
fresh air to limit levels of internal pollutants.

Lighting, heating, cooling, ventilation and energy efficiency are comprehensively
discussed, although the solutions chosen are hardly earth-shattering. Conventional
air conditioning and fluorescent lighting that would not be out of place
in any downtown high-rise are given lavish praise and elevated above their
real station. True, the windows can be opened – but even this could be construed
as a weakness in the design because the air conditioning just keeps running.

Recycling is state of the art. Paper, aluminium cans and solid waste
are collected for reuse. Even an experimental on-site composting programme
is planned. The authors call it ‘closing the loop’ and, for me, this section
is the gem.

Solutions to design problems are clearly described, but there is not
enough of the methodology and thinking behind the choices that are made.
Often it is the discarded ideas in a design process that give an insight
way beyond any description, however well articulated, of the adopted solution.
This is what I was really looking for and I failed to find it.

John Berry is a chartered engineer and a director of the consulting
engineers Ove Arup and Partners in London.