Empirical
Findings from The Nature of Order
Christopher
Alexander
Architect, scientist, and writer Christopher Alexander is one of the
most remarkable thinkers and makers of our time. His many books include
A Pattern Language (1977), The Timeless Way of Building
(1979), and A Foreshadowing of Twenty-First Century Art: The Color
and Geometry of Very Early Turkish Carpets (1993). This essay is his
recent effort to distill the major discoveries in his masterful
four-volume The Nature of Order (2002-2005), published by the
Center for Environmental Structure in Berkeley, CA. He wishes to thank
Maggie Alexander and Randy Schmidt for help in editing this essay. ©
2007 Christopher Alexander.
www.patternlanguage.com.
I am a scientist.
The science of the last four centuries and especially the science of the
last 150 years has profoundly shaped our culture and our civilization.
We are now living in a world defined by a widely accepted group of
statements and kind of knowledge that was non-existent before. These
have changed our view of what a human being is. The offshoots of science
have changed how we look at ourselves, how we think and feel, and how we
view our social institutions, political institutions, love, war, and
race. How we view children and how we view old age. How we view art and
the making of things. How we view the birth and death of the cosmos.
Yet in this
exuberant and fascinating surge of modern science, with all its
authority and power, the divide between fact and value remains hardly
changed at all. The questions of what we ought to do, how to solve
problems, how we may attain the peaceful form of existence in which a
person lives with quiet in one’s heart, how to act to protect the
planet, how to act so as to protect and help the wretched of the Earth,
how to bring loving kindness into the workplace—these issues have hardly
changed. If anything they have become more extreme, and every day more
painful.
Science rarely
helps us with these matters. We scientists have not yet laid down a way
of thought that gives us a foundation of careful and tender action that
deals with everyday life, makes common sense, and leads to actions that
make the Earth more whole in its people and in its soil and substance.
Indeed, the philosophy of science, which has brought us so far, has also
made it more difficult to address these issues. The findings of science
have intentionally separated the process of forming mechanical models of
physics from the process of feeling and from appreciation of the poetic
whole that forms our own existence.
In brief, then, we
have not yet found a model through which we may understand things in an
overall, wholesome way that is both rooted in fact, as deciphered by
scientific effort, and also gives us a foundation for ethical daily
thought and action. As a result, to put it bluntly, we do not know
who we are. We can hardly act without floundering morally or
emotionally. Often, we find ourselves in the greatest pain because
things do not hold together. We cannot find a comfortable picture of our
daily actions in relation to the larger whole of the Earth and universe.
In The Nature of
Order, a four-volume work mainly written in the 30 years from 1975
to 2005, I have tried to construct a coherent picture that makes sense
of these matters and gives us something worth living for.
How does The
Nature of Order work? First, although the book is long, it is modest
in intent and deals with something so ordinary that most scientific
works never touch it—namely, the everyday world around us, the world of
rooms and streets, houses and trees.
The four books of
The Nature of Order continually try to describe our everyday
world in objective terms, yet at the same time deal with the emotional
world that this objective, ordinary world raises in all of us. It is an
exploration of the way that we sentient, feeling creatures interact with
our surroundings, and of the way that interaction leads us to understand
ourselves and the nature of our lives, and ultimately even to
understand, in part, the nature of our own souls.
* *
*
At the heart of
this exploration there is a logical and empirical thread of argument
that may be viewed as the core of my four books and that establishes the
necessity of a new view of ourselves in relation to the world. This view
ultimately nourishes (and, if accepted, could become the foundation of)
a new kind of hope that is all the more profound because it integrates
knowledge from philosophy, science, and religion to help us to
experience the wholeness of the whole.
It could even shed
light on the way wholeness occurs in the universe so that we might find
help wrestling with the question of God. It might give us a path for our
own access to that mystery, yet couched in acceptable, concrete terms of
scientific reference.
The sequence of my
argument follows a brief introduction to each of the four books and is
arranged, as the books are, in four parts.
Book 1:
The Phenomenon of Life
To lay a ground work for understanding built environments that support
human well-being, I began about 40 years ago, searching for, defining,
and identifying patterns of space that recurred in buildings, each one
dealing with a particular range of problems that was likely to occur. By
about 1975, these investigations, which I undertook with five
colleagues, gave us gold. We discovered about 250 invariant spatial
patterns, each one associated with the stability of a
human-environmental system. These were published in A Pattern
Language (Oxford University Press, 1977) and in several other books
published in the same decade. They have become a standard part of what
is known and used by architects.
During the late
1970s and early 1980s, I began to notice that these 250 patterns were
themselves special cases of a small number of much deeper
configurational properties. I began to hunt for these and try to purify
them. In the end, after ten years of work, I had identified 15 of these
properties. It began to seem more and more certain that all living
structure—indeed, all “good” structure—is composed of these 15
fundamental properties.
It is significant
that these 15 properties are not confined to buildings and works of art
but are equally visible in nature. In naturally occurring physical
systems, one could see that virtually all phenomena had, in one form or
another, a configuration that was “composed” from, or at the very least
strongly molded by, these 15 properties.
My
co-workers and I began to feel that there was, in these phenomena, a
recurrent structure of some kind—almost as if one could see the same
deep structure in a huge variety of actual phenomena, and that it was so
deep that each time it occurred, it took a different form, and was,
nevertheless, always the same.
* *
*
The argument of
Book 1, The Phenomenon of Life, may be captured by the following
results that summarize 30 years of observation and experiment:
1.
A previously unknown phenomenon that may be called “life” or
“wholeness” has been observed in artifacts. This quality has been
noticed in certain works of art, buildings, public space, parts of
buildings, and in a wide range of other humanmade things.
2.
The idea of how much life is in things is objective in the sense
of observation and is thus common to people of different inclinations
and cultures. This is a surprise, since the finding seems to contradict
the accepted wisdom of cultural relativity. (demonstrated)
3.
This quality of life seems to be correlated with the repeated
appearance of 15 geometric properties—or geometrical invariants—that
appear throughout the object’s configuration. (demonstrated)
4.
We began to refer to this quality, in its geometrical aspect, as
“living structure.”
5.
The appearance of living structure in things—large or small—is
also correlated with the fact that these things induce deep feeling and
a quality of connectedness in those who are in the presence of these
things. (demonstrated)
6.
Degree of life is an objective quality that may be measured by
empirical methods. The empirical test that most trenchantly predicts
“life” in things is a test that asks which of two things induces the
greater wholeness in the observer and which of the two most nearly
resembles the observer’s inner self. (demonstrated)
7.
Astonishingly, in spite of the vast variety of human beings and
human culture, there is substantial agreement about these judgments,
thus suggesting a massive pool of agreement about the deep nature of a
“human self” and possibly suggesting that we may legitimately speak of
“the” human self. (at least strongly indicated)
8.
The 15 properties are the ways in which living centers can
support other living centers. A center is a field-like centrality that
occurs in space. (demonstrated)
9.
In phenomena ranging in scale from 10-15 to 10-8
meters, on the surface of the Earth ranging from 10-5 to 105
meters, and at cosmological scales ranging from 109
to 1026 meters, the same 15 properties occur repeatedly in
natural systems.
10. There
is substantial empirical evidence that the quality of buildings and
works of art as judged by knowledgeable people who have the experience
to evaluate quality with some objectivity is predicted by the presence
and density of the 15 properties. (demonstrated)
11. It
is possible that the properties, as they occur in artifacts, may
originate with cognition and work because of cognition, and that is why
we respond to them.
12. But
that cannot explain why they also occur, recur, and play such a
significant role in natural phenomena.
13. Centers
appear in both living and non-living structures. But in the living
structures, there is a higher density and degree of cooperation among
the centers, especially among the larger ones. This feature comes
directly from the presence of the 15 properties and the density with
which they occur. (demonstrated)
Books
2 & 3:
The Process of Creating Life
&
A Vision of a Living World
How does this
living structure come into being? Where does it come from? And why do
these structural properties keep recurring? It is more important to ask
this question about the phenomenon in nature than in architecture, since
in nature living structure is being created all the time, in
architecture only sometimes. Yet it is a question that—in this form—has
hardly ever been asked from within the mainstream sciences.
As a rule,
scientists take it for granted that naturally occurring structures are
beautiful. So much so, that the questions “Why?” or “How do things
become beautiful?” do not usually seem important to a scientist and are
rarely posed as scientific questions. But when seen through the
eyes of an architect or looked at in the scale range that I look at
professionally, these two questions come into sharp relief. They are
questions that need answers. When one looks at architecture and modern
cities, it is obvious that human beings can manage to make a terrible
mess of their surroundings. This shows us by default that beauty does
not come about automatically. Yet in nature it does seem to come about
without effort!
Evidently, then, we
must conclude that there are particular kinds of processes occurring in
nature that, repeatedly and without effort, make things beautiful. It
must be that somehow these natural processes are constrained or
specialized in some way that allows nature’s phenomena to become
beautiful, while the same particular specialization of process is
missing from most contemporary architecture, planning, and development.
It is not impossible for beauty to arise in human artifacts, but it is
relatively rare.
What process is it
that is universally present in the processes of nature but is rarely
present—indeed, most often missing—from contemporary town building and
architecture?
***
This is a new and
important scientific question. Having arrived at the description of the
15 properties, and seen them as vitally important structures in both
nature and architecture, the question regarding good and bad process
gave me a clue to the answer, especially since both nature and the best
architecture are characterized by a special kind of harmony, beauty, and
wholeness. By the early 1990s, I had begun to focus on this particular
class of processes—what I later came to call “unfoldings”—and asked why
the underlying processes of nature and traditional architecture are able
to create harmony and beauty without effort, while the processes of
modern urban construction are almost never able to do so.
I believe these
kinds of processes are common in nature—at all scales. But it is easier
to identify them in architecture, because as an architect, one is more
blatantly forced to ask how harmony comes about in the scale range of
architecture. I believe this is why these transformations first surfaced
in my studies in architecture and why they have not previously come to
light or been described in physics or biology.
* * *
14.
The structure of living things has been shown to have a
predictable geometric coherence at least partly governed by the 15
properties presented in Book 1. (demonstrated)
15.
In examining the origin of those things in nature and in
art that possess living structure, we find that this living structure
comes about, almost without exception, as a result of an unfolding
process that draws structure from the whole by progressive
differentiation. (demonstrated)
16.
More particularly, it is possible to define a new class of
transformations—“wholeness-extending transformations”—that allow
continuous elaboration of any portion of the world, according to
non-disruptive and healing acts. [Note: In Book 2, the term
“structure-preserving transformations” is used throughout. Since its
publication, I have adopted the more expressive term
“wholeness-extending.”]
17. This
progressive differentiation and coherence building can be shown to
depend on the system of wholeness-extending transformations that
preserve and extend wholeness. (demonstrated)
18. In
addition, it can be shown that these transformations generate the 15
properties as a natural by-product of their wholeness-extending actions.
(demonstrated)
19. It
is precisely the use of these wholeness-extending transformations that
has generated the greatly loved, and now treasured, traditional
environments throughout the world. (demonstrated).
20. It
can also be shown that the environments typically created by commercial
development in the last 100 years are generated by an almost
diametrically opposed system of wholeness-disrupting
transformations. (demonstrated)
21. It
may be concluded that healthy environments can only be generated by
actions and processes based on wholeness-extending transformations. If
we hope for health or living structure in our built environment, it is
reasonable to say that the efforts of project initiation, design,
planning, and construction must be revised to incorporate the necessary
processes.
22. Not
surprisingly, the new methods and processes required to achieve this
healing will need to be substantially different from present-day
commercial methods, thus requiring great courage and a widespread
willingness to make serious changes in society. (demonstrated)
23. Examples
throughout Book 2 demonstrate how a great variety of sequential-holistic
processes can give rise to effective unfolding and produce new buildings
and environments that have greater than normal coherence, adaptation,
and harmony with their surroundings.
24.
It
is shown, above all, that it is the holistic and sequential nature of
the unfolding that governs the coherent quality of end-product
configurations. As far as we are aware, only this kind of process places
appropriate emphasis on the well-being of the whole.
* * *
Continuing the argument as it is
presented in Book 3, A Vision of a Living World:
25. The
core quality of an environment that is unfolded through
wholeness-extending transformations is its deep relatedness to human
beings in a way that may be called “belonging.” (demonstrated)
26. This
belonging must be something related to people’s everyday inner feelings.
This relatedness is not trivial but leads, rather, to a far deeper
substance than the artificial constructions currently hailed as “art.”
(demonstrated)
27. In
addition, structures created by a process of unfolding are likely to
have a wider range of physical and human characteristics—far wider than
the range of those visible in the homogeneous commercial projects of our
time. They will, by their nature and by the nature of
wholeness-extending transformations, nourish the land and people and
give rise to a great depth and substance that provides genuine support
for human beings and the Earth. (demonstrated)
28. Made
in this way, the environment will be sustainable as a whole, and
in a deeper and more comprehensive way than the partial technological
sustainability that has become fashionable in recent years.
29. Book
3 provides many examples of buildings and building complexes where
wholeness-extending transformations have been at work in different
environmental and human settings. From these examples, one sees how much
richer and more various both the processes and the resulting products
are. (widely demonstrated)
30. Furthermore,
in all these examples, there is a richer variety and greater number of
living centers, at all scales, ranging from the very large to the very
small. When one examines these examples, the characteristic change of
overall quality that these techniques induce is plain to see.
(demonstrated)
31. It
is anticipated that such environments will, by their nature, give honor
and respect to all people on earth. (Partially verified, but certainly
not yet truly demonstrated, since many more examples from different
cultures still need to be built and tested.)
32. As
far as the extant examples are concerned, they seem to come closer to a
new form of collective art that evokes the true nature of people able to
express and live their own aspirations, culture by culture. All these
examples encourage people to increase their own self-esteem and that of
others.
33. By
honoring the wholeness of the Earth and its neighborhoods, these newly
built places, in their physical character and presence, are also likely
to encourage and support new depths of spiritual seriousness in the
people who make them and for whom they are made.
34. Such
environments have not previously been an object of scientific study. The
in-depth analysis and description of such profoundly made environments
advances our understanding of the basic qualities and characteristics of
the environment and offers an approach to healing.
35. Most
important is that the many experiments described in Book 3 use the
generating processes put forward in Books 1 and 2, and one can
see the results. Briefly put, the places are experienced by people
who live in them, work in them, or visit them, as something that
establishes a deeper connection. In some fashion, which appears
inescapable, the theory of Books 1 and 2, is confirmed by the physical
results in building and by the way these places work—far more deeply, so
it is argued, by people who have been in them—than the normal buildings
and plans made by other contemporary methods. (demonstrated)
36. It
is to be hoped that the empirical base will not only provide a sturdy
underpinning for a new way of regarding the world we live in but will
also provide a foundation for social and political methods of achieving
these results on a wider scale. This empirical base also validates an
interpretation that describes the interaction of people and their
environment in a much deeper fashion than we have been used to in
contemporary dialogue. Something has shifted.
Book 4:
The Luminous Ground
In the
fourth chain of my argument, I come back to the process of doing
any work of unfolding and the core activity that needs to be followed
for the unfolding to arise successfully. This depends on a cognitive
state that will allow a human being—any artist, maker, architect or
planner—indeed, anyone—to perform an unfolding successfully. This
requires that he or she pay attention to the whole (not always
easy)—a skill that must be learned, since it requires that the person
forget himself or herself sufficiently to be able to act as nature does.
Let us now take a
deeper look at the nature of these centers from which wholeness is
composed. In Book 1, I defined a center as a field-like centrality that
occurs in space. It is not an object. It is not a point. It is a
holistic phenomenon that appears within a larger whole. Wholeness is
composed of centers. So we have a recursive phenomenon here: centers
appear in wholeness; wholeness is composed of centers. Each center has
some degree of life. The life that a center has is a function of the
configuration of centers that surround it and of the degree of life that
these surrounding centers have. In slightly different language,
a living center is a center that is unusually dense in other living
centers.
Conceptually, it is
not easy to hold on to this enormous multiplicity of interconnected
living centers, each working on others and doing so through the action
provided by the 15 properties. Toward the end of my efforts to
understand this phenomenon, I came to a formulation that expressed this
in a helpful way. Namely, I chose to use the word “beings” to describe
living centers. This language was
slightly shocking, since it smacked of sensationalism, even of
exaggeration. I found it extremely helpful, however, to think of and to
see living centers—the focal points of a living structure—as “beings.”
What the word does
that is especially useful is to avoid the often antiseptic language
of mathematics and admit, into the phenomenon of living structure, a
sense that life in some form—biological, artistic, poetic, mythical—is a
real thing, a thing that has spirit. When one conceives a living
structure as made of a multitude of beings, it allows one to give
dignity to the fact that it really is life that is being created
and that has established its presence there, not only an antiseptic
shell.
In the first part
of Book 4, I describe this apparent life as it appears in technically
“dead” stones, in marks of paint, in the roof of a certain building, in
a window, or a window pane. This way in which an inanimate configuration
springs to life and calls forth life is what brings us face to face with
the significance—and meaning—of the phenomenon!
I do not want to go
too far with the concept of beings and have introduced the term
only because it conveys a better sense of the enormous nature of what is
going on when centers form in space. Nevertheless, the concept does
underline what has already been established in early sections of this
argument—namely, that one must conclude that space itself is somehow
being-like, has the potential for beings to appear in it, not in the
mechanistic sense of assembly from components, but in the far more
startling sense that something within space and matter can be awoken by
the presence of the proper configurations. It is this that begins,
firmly, to close the argument and point toward a much deeper nature of
matter and space than to what we are accustomed.
* * *
Completing my summary of the argument,
the following steps are laid out and explored in Book 4, The Luminous
Ground:
37. The
empirical arguments presented in Books 1, 2, and 3, are fairly
straightforward. They provide a concrete, substantial way of
understanding the quality of artifacts, works of nature, and works of
building. But what has not been visible so far is that the web of these
empirical findings leads to an altogether deeper and somewhat mysterious
picture. This picture must be understood so that one can fully grasp the
significance of the earlier empirical discoveries.
38. Let
us come back, then, in this fourth book, to the whole: the nature of the
living whole and the way that any one part of that whole plays its role
within the larger whole, binding everything together. To some degree we
have a picture of the way this happens, also of the processes that make
it happen. But what is the meaning of these processes? What is their
significance in the larger scheme of things?
39. We
have seen that living structure occurs when centers unfold from the
whole and form complex binding schemes in which larger centers emerge
from the whole, intensify the life of whole, and are built from smaller
centers. (demonstrated)
40. We
have also seen, repeatedly, that any example of living structure creates
a connection between that structure and the human self and is in some
definite sense “personal.” (demonstrated)
41. These
observations gain empirical support from the experiments in Book 1,
which indicate that perception of a self-like quality in a thing
(whether it be natural or humanmade) provides the most direct access to
the degree of life in the thing. (demonstrated)
42. The
observations also gain strong empirical support from the experiments
described in Book 3, where attention to the living structure in an
environment strongly increases the feeling of belonging that people
experience there. (demonstrated)
43. These
two conclusions suggest that what I call “living structure”—whether it
occurs in nature or in art—is entangled with the human self, in some
fashion that we have not previously understood.
44. More
specifically, every single living center that appears repeatedly in
living structure, at many overlapping scales, has a character connected
to the human self.
45. Even
more exactly, any environment that has life or, for that matter, any
system or work of art that has life incorporates multiple and sometimes
very large numbers of living centers that appear to be being-like—i.e.,
self-like. This appears to be a fact of nature—not merely a
psychological or cognitive interpretation.
46. Experiments,
observations, and descriptions of these phenomena finally bring us to
the brink of something one can hardly avoid saying—namely, that the
natural phenomena and artifacts made in this way and the living
structure they exhibit strongly suggest the need for a modified
understanding of the nature of matter.
47. It
appears that the process of making a living environment succeeds or not
to the degree that the making process is based on the repeated use of
the criterion, “How much is this part, that part, or that whole like my
true, inner self?” We thus find a substantial, empirically-based clue
for making ecologically wholesome places, spiritually sustaining places,
and energetically self-supporting places.
48. By
empirical standards, this is a startling proposal. All these forms of
making are dependent on perceptions and actions that might be imagined
as appropriate and natural for a 14th-century Christian monk or a Sufi
saint. They are far removed from the current late-20th
century version of our scientific world view and what it tells us to do.
49. If
the view presented turns out to be a sound and testable picture of
reality, as my experiments suggest, we must then be prepared to
contemplate and perhaps in the end accept a modification in our
present-day view of the nature of space and matter.
50. In
any case, whether we succeed in this renewal or not, it does seem that
there are good grounds for reviewing our picture of the nature of living
structure and the matter from which we are made and which surrounds us.
(demonstrated)
51. At
the very least, in my experience, thoughtful people who have
contemplated these issues and thought about them carefully,
find—sometimes with a sigh of acceptance and relief—that, within this
frame of reference, they are finally able to live in a world that makes
sense. They are able to act in a way that makes sense and without those
actions being based on any current canons of morality.
52. This
is a world view in which acceptance of the whole and efforts to heal the
whole can be seen as the most profound and most important forms of
prayer. This world view is consistent with modern science and yet calls
into question some of science’s most deeply rooted assumptions.
53. It
is a new kind of thought about matter, in which our understanding of the
world is coupled with the idea of healing the world, and in which our
relation with the world is to be understood through realizing that our
own selves are in the world, part of it, and not separated from it.
54. In
such a modified world view, science can perhaps be brought into
alignment with human feeling and awareness.
55. An
apparent link between environment, self, God, and matter has shown
itself. It has been uncovered by carefully raking through the ashes of
our mechanical civilization and in the attempt to build a phoenix of
living structure that may arise again, if we choose to pay sufficient
attention to it.
56. In
any case, the world can become beautiful as a result of efforts based on
this new understanding. (demonstrated)
57. As
a result of these investigations, it may turn out best if we redefine
the concept of God in a way that is more directly linked to the concept
of “the whole.” This would permit the reconciliation of our daily
efforts with the well being of the whole—something that is anyway
necessary from a scientific point of view. But in so doing, we may be
able to unite the mental and emotional territory of what was
traditionally called God in a way that provides the connectedness that
people crave and in a way that allows people to feel humility and
responsibility for the whole as part of the sum total of mentality that
once existed in other cultures and that must exist in our own highly
modern civilization in a way that is true to the facts.
58. We
would then have the goal of making a world that is literally made, as
far as possible, from “self.” This means, of course, the eternal self
that lies in each of us and manifests in living structure. This also
means that the world is to be made of this substance.
59.
But, even more
shocking and exciting, there may lie ahead new ways of understanding
physics and biology in these terms so that space and matter would be
linked and entangled, literally, with the source of all consciousness,
by reference to the whole and its hitherto misunderstood properties.
* * *
The empirical findings—those that I have
marked above as “demonstrated”—are expressed in the four books with
sufficient background so that it is clear that they are testable and
have been tested. It is also clear that more rigorous experiments
along the same lines can be done, with larger samples, to reach
conventional standards of scientific acceptance.
I have not pursued this traditional
scientific avenue to its full conclusion, since the construction of the
logic of this chain of reasoning was a harder and more important
task, arduous in the extreme. I spent most of these last 30 years
working to make the chain of argument as clearly and as logically as I
could. My experiments brought results that have established a prima
facie case that the findings are reasonable and plausible. They now
simply need confirmation through experiments conducted along more exact
lines.
I look to my colleagues and to a new
generation of scientists to carry this work forward with the necessary
rigor.