From the perspective of evolutionary psychology, we spend a tremendous amount of time and energy to broadcast our most favorable traits, including extraversion, openness to new experiences, kindness, general intelligence, creativity and more. Miller argues that today, we use the products that we buy and the brands we represent as tools to signal the traits that we would like to make the world aware of. What’s more, is that we also attempt to use superior products to deceptively make up for inferior traits.

Topics examined and discussed thus far include:

• Fitness indicators
• Marketing and Culture
• Marketing vs. Memes
• Consumerist Narcissism
• Consumerist Delusion
• Trait Signaling
• Conspicuous Waste, Precision, and Reputation

So far, Spent has been intriguing and insightful. I have learned more about the ties between anthropology and modern culture, and my interest in the topic has been reignited. What is of great interest to me is how this field of research may be tied to architecture. If it holds that we use the products we buy to help display our desirable traits, then I imagine that we also use the rooms and homes we live in to do the same. If we rent, perhaps the place we rent, the neighborhood it is in, and how we occupy it says what we want it to about us. Similarly, if we buy or build a new home, how do we use our homes and dwellings to advertise our biological potential as mates? I have been interested in this topic for over two years, but never quite new how to phrase it, or where to begin. Now I do, and so begins our next project.

Reyner Banham, in his 1968 series collectively known as “Four Pieces on Los Angeles,” addresses this condition on multiple fronts.  He compares the topological organization to that of London, in that both cities are agglomerations of smaller towns that have come to fall, more or less, under some civic umbrella.  After admitting to an initially unpleasant experience with public transit upon his arrival in LA, Banham declares the city to be a rather mature and distinctively modern metropolis.  He claims not only that the failure of the railways was a natural occurrence brought on by the inferiority of the Pacific Electric Railroad when compared to the much more comprehensive and freely-flowing highway system, but that the railroad company was to blame for the crime and poverty of the Watts ghetto by having effectively used train tracks to inhibit its residents from circulating between their own neighborhood and the rest of the city. He celebrates the prevalence of libertarian individuality in the citizens of LA, and embraces the fetishisation of the automobile and the rejection of civic responsibility as an extension of the art of doing one’s thing. Perhaps one of the most interesting things Banham said was that the lifestyle of Los Angeles was one that appealed most, in Europe at least, to middle-aged professionals seeking a renewed sense of freedom and excitement that could not be found on either side of the Atlantic seaboard.  That is to say, Banham wrote with a half-admission that the attraction he and others of his demographic felt for Los Angeles was a desire to spin a mid-life crisis into a Wild West adventure.

What Banham was unable to foresee was the astronomical increase in traffic density that has since become the most widely and bitterly held criticism of Los Angeles.  In the four decades that have passed since he wrote these pieces, the population of Los Angeles has outgrown the capacity of its motorways, thus making it much more difficult to maintain the lone driver motoring lifestyle.  Traffic no longer moves reliably, and many people are commuting daily from places as far away as Ventura.  The solo commute, once a symbol of glorious independence from public transportation, has become a tedious and time-consuming battle against far too many other people who also happen to be celebrating their independence.  Indeed, the highway just ain’t big enough for everyone.  There are simply too many people doing their thing over too large and dense an area that the encapsulated lifestyle so easily and romantically manifested in the middle twentieth century has proven gravely unsustainable.

image courtesy <a href=”http://philip.greenspun.com/”>Philip Greenspun</a>

What Banham described as a freewheeling aversion to government oppression may be retroactively and conceptually reassessed as a refusal to accept the terms of Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s liberal republicanism, which has long been the overarching standard of American social contract.  The longstanding Angelino illusion that one may escape society by moving to a major city is not one whose irony goes unnoticed, and it is genuinely impressive that so many people have been living this illusion for so long without having some revelation as to its progressing eclipse.

Perhaps it is not too late.  The real problem with ensapsulated transportation at this time is one of congestion and fossil fuel consumption.  People operating as individuals do not possess the collective mind necessary to allow a smooth flow of traffic.  Deficiencies in driver reflexes and lapses in concentration cause traffic jams, collisions, and infuriatingly long travel times, while idling motors waste energy and emit noxious fumes even while standing still.  In this new century though, Los Angeles has a truly profound opportunity to be, as it once was conjectured to be, the most uniquely modern city in the world.  As technology allows, the city could become a large-scale experiment for infrastructural swarm intelligence.

Let the people keep their capsules, but make those capsules subservient, on certain roads at certain times, to algorithms that will allow high densities of private capsules to efficiently flow between destinations.  Fuel emissions and expenditure will no longer be in vain, and Angelinos, if they so desire, will be able to maintain their sacred private interiors, isolated from the forced company of other people that admittedly make many traditional forms of public transit disgustingly unpleasant.  At times of day and in areas where congestion ceases to be a problem, private vehicles will be released from the swarm algorithm and the control of the journey will shift seamlessly back into the hands of the occupant.  A commuter will be able to cruise up to his or her guarded suburban sanctuary in full control of his or her capsule, bringing home none of the stress or anxiety that would have resulted from a long traffic jam.

While it is easy at present to deny Banham’s relevance, to demote his essays to the status of period pieces, there is something unique about the idea of Los Angeles that is worth preserving, worth fighting for.  The first experiment for the City of Angels may have ended with disappointing results, but just as every laboratory must move past its failures toward new endeavors, so too must Los Angeles explore new opportunities in radical individualism.

Coney Island Then - Luna Park by Night

According to Koolhaas, Coney Island always existed in binary opposition to Manhattan. At the beginning, Coney Island was a natural landscape with quiet beaches; a relief from the congestion of Manhattan. As the island became more popular and more crowded, it could no longer exist in its current state and had to swing to the opposite binary, one of extreme artificiality and urban intensification. Mutating the island into a city of lights and artificiality, a place where pleasure was created and consumed, required technology. To borrow from Koolhaas, technology of the fantastic was used to create a synthetic reality. Technology of the fantastic was used to create an urbanism and social environment that the public demanded and consumed, one that became a laboratory for Manhattan.

A bizarre landscape of theme parks evolved on the Island, each trying to outdo the last. Dreamland was home to over 1,300,000 electric lights, creating a second city of lights that was the advent of the 24-hour metropolis. Attractions like Fighting the Flames, The Fall of Pompeii, Barrels of Love and Lilliputia developed in line with the public’s demand for the fantastic and bizarre. Each relied on technology to create and sell a synthetic reality to be consumed by the public. Further, cardboard was a predominant building material, resulting in many impossible spires and useless space. However, the architecture was convincing enough to support “the formula: carboard + technology (or any other flimsy material) = reality.” Coney Island’s extreme artificiality and wonderland of lights and attractions prompted some critics to call the place “The Pyrotechnic Insanitarium.”

These factors of technology, synthetic reality, urbanism and the bizarre served as a laboratory for Manhattan, creating a new urbanism and consumer culture to go with it.

That was Coney Island then, but what about now? What is it and how does it function in the metropolis?

To me, it seems like it is caught between lives, between what was then and what it is now. It was interesting to see how my preconceptions of the place both aligned and strayed from what it actually is. It is still a weird outpost at the end of the line, but it is not the abandoned landscape devoid of life that I imagined. In fact, it still seems to be quite popular among the public, offering a unique blend of attractions amid the fading glory. Some of the old attractions, or remnants of them, still exist. You can eat a hot dog at Nathan’s hot dogs, home to the world’s first, ride the old Ferris wheel and other carnival rides. Coney Island retains some its old former weirdness, with fading signs and structures from the previous century, as well as attractions like Shoot the Freak. “Come on up, ladies and gentlemen, shoot the freak and the rest of your day will be gravy.”

Coney Island Now - Boardwalk and old tower

Pier and housing blocks

Image via Wikipedia

The urban composition of the area is quite unique, a blend of carnival, relaxing boardwalk, fenced off fields, housing blocks and an aquarium. It is in this new composition that the weird is preserved. Such a diverse landscape attracts a varied social conglomeration: carnival goers, aquarium goers, tourists, residents, photographers, artists, addicts, etc. The people watching, particularly against the background of Coney Island, is worth the trip out there. Then there are those like me, hunting for the remnants of the Coney Island that used to be, and still exists in our imaginations. I can still drift into the synthetic reality of what I want the place to be, of what it means to me.

Coney Island has certainly changed, but it still exists in binary opposition to Manhattan. Once an intensification of urban pressure, it is now an exhale from the pressure and crowds of Manhattan, a world apart from the museums and fashion of the other island. The attractions and landscape of the island have changed drastically during its lifespan, but the motivations to go have not. It is always has been, and still functions as, an escape, a chance to find, and even temporarily live in, a different reality.

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The kayaks were fundamental to the survival and well-being of the local people; fat from marine mammals was crucial to their survival. Without dependable access to the sea they could not have flourished. Over time they learned how to construct their kayaks in a way that emulated the sea lions as closely as possible.

“They were about the length of a large Steller sea lion bull, and sea lions skin were used as the outer membrane of the kayak. The frame inside the skin cover was almost literally a skeleton, and the connective tissue that held the skeleton together was sinew from sea lions and other marine mammals…The iqyan were sleek and supple in the water, like sea lions. The flex of the elastic frame and the skin cover allowed the kayak to absorb and transmit the force of Aleutian storm waves through the entire length of the boat, protecting it from breaking up in seas that would destroy a rigid boat….”

This is a fascinating observation of the human ability to adapt, emulate, learn and improve to survive in nearly any environment. Through development and experiments across generations, the Aleutians developed nearly perfect sea craft for their particular need and environment. According to evolutionary theory those who have traits and adaptations that allow them to survive in a given environment will allow them to pass of there genes to future generations, while those who cannot adapt will be selected against and eventually die out. These kayaks had traits that were positively selected for because they worked. Similarly, those who elected to use and continue to improve those kayaks had an advantage in the environment and had higher reproductive success.

In our modern world we have insulated ourselves from many of the selective forces that our ancestors faced. Developments like mass production and industrial farming have eliminated much of the need for us to adapt to our particular environment. These developments as well as large infrastructural projects have made resources ubiquitous across the landscape. We no longer have the responsibility or necessity to adapt our architecture and our lifestyles to our environment. In many ways this has helped us over a hurdle in the game of evolution, and supported unprecedented rates of economic and population growth. But something is lost.

We build, and we build a lot. But many projects are bland and run-of-the-mill. They may be functional and economical, and serve their purpose for the occupant, but offer nothing else. They lack the ingenuity and environmental and cultural connections of the Aleutian kayaks. They lack the ability to delight. Perhaps this is why we can be so powerfully struck today by exemplary and rare projects. We can immediately tell that they were designed not with numbers and bottom lines in mind, but designed for the people who would use it, and delight in it, year after year.

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• New and Exciting in PLoS ONE (scienceblogs.com)

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Of huge importance in the novel was conforming to social norms. Lilly (the heroine/victim) of the novel was adopted and loved by her elite peers and warmly accepted into their exclusive group. She was touted as being the most beautiful among all of New York’s young women, and the desirable of many suitable bachelors, and the holder of great social intelligence. Her access to this group give Lilly the world, she is welcome to parties, pleasant summer stays in country homes, European vacations, and introduced to only the best in New York’s society. Unfortunately for Lilly, she does not behave quite as they would like a young woman like her to, and she begins to have a falling out, and is the victim of mistrust and suspicions. Eventually the problem becomes so great, particularly with a female rival, that she is completely ostracized from the group. It is not that as individuals they all dislike her, but she represents such instability to the group that the group must get rid of her to preserve itself.

Further, there was a near constant description of the characters, either through thoughts, words, or actions, considering their status among their peers and how to preserve or elevate their current social status. There is a near constant game of weighing one’s own attributes against a rival’s. For example Wharton writes “It was not that Miss Bart was afraid of losing her newly acquired hold over Mr. Gryce. Mrs. Dorset might startle or dazzle him, but she had neither the skill nor patience to effect his capture.” Lily was taking an objective look at the threat any given rival posed and was quick to discover any points of weakness she could use to her advantage. These and other examples of intrasexual competition abound throughout the novel, especially in the context of high society where status is everything.

What is of further interest is that architecture is the backdrop for all of these events. The wealthiest country estates, most dignified sitting rooms, the most elaborate and elegant ballrooms, and most exclusive restaurants are where the events take place. In the beginning the reader is introduced to the manor at Bellomont where

“The hall was arcaded, with a gallery supported on columns of pale yellow marble…and the light from the great central lantern overhead shed a brightness on the women’s hair and struck sparks from their jewels and they moved.”

The architecture and social occupants of the manor worked as one to advertise the wealth, social grace and status of the occupants. Later in the novel Lilly recalls her ambition to have

“an apartment which should surpass the complicated luxury of her friends’ surroundings by the whole extent of that artistic sensibility which made her feel herself their superior, in which every tint and line should combine to enhance her beauty and give distinction to her leisure.”

This reinforces the perhaps obvious but interesting notion that those with a higher social status should dwell in a place that reflects their status. It would be a strange sight to see a distinguished author, architect, politician or captain of industry living in tenement housing. Architecture and social standing are once again linked after Lilly has been ostracized from her group and left to fend for herself. She has taken residence in a boarding house and

“she dreaded to return to her narrow room, with its blotched wall-paper and shabby paint, and she hated every step of the walk thither through the degradation of a New York street in the last stages of decline from fashion to commerce.”

In this instance, architecture and urbanism create a parallel tale to Lilly’s own social decline. As she falls from the grace of high society and good fashion into a world where she must manage her own scant commerce, the architecture reflects her position.

Throughout the novel it became more apparent that architecture served as a backdrop for social activities, and became intertwined with anthropological events. Architecture was tied to social class and people and their behavior was linked to their dwellings.

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“Then all of these [men] vanish into the vast swamp of their elders who tell them persistently that maturity consists of abandoning one’s own mind; security, of abandoning one’s values; practicality, of losing self-esteem. Yet a few hold on and move on, knowing that the fire is not to be betrayed, learning how to give it shape, purpose and reality.”

Image via Wikipedia

From the bright flash of youth there are, according to Rand, two paths to take. Reach for fulfillment or slowly give up. The latter of these paths seems to be the one that is far more traveled, but why? What benefits do these men stand to gain by succumbing to the seemingly poor advice of their elders?

From an anthropological point of view, those that give up may be able to increase their reproductive success by fitting in with their social group. Research has shown that conforming to social norms and group identity can increase individual success (see: Conforming to Social Norms). At is simplest, conformity supports group unity and cooperation, giving members a better chance to access resources and find mates. While it seems that they are “giving up” the endless possibilities of their own future, they may in fact be ensuring that they have a future with their social group and access to a mate. There is an inverse relationship between success and what is known as costly signals. Costly signals are behaviors or rituals that have a negative cost to the person in some way. The more costly the signals are the greater the rewards in terms of individual success and the greater degree of stability the group will enjoy. According to these phenomena of human behavior, many people may see that there is much to be gained by giving up one’s mind, values and self-esteem. The costly signals will allow them to reach the American dream, but none of their own.

Conversely, what of those who hold on? What, and how, do they stand to gain in terms of success? Electing to reject the norms of the group and strike out on one’s own could be seen as risky behavior. However, research has shown that risky behavior has its own rewards for individual success. We are a male-bonded society and group status is intricately linked with success. Risky behavior can elevate a person’s group status and give them an edge in intra- and intersexual competition.

Perhaps in this example there is a twinkling of the interaction between genes and memes. The obvious genetic desire for reproductive success comes into contact with the cultural and social route used to attain those desires.

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Rand briefly recounts her struggle to get The Fountainhead published and recalls that her conviction in what she was doing always exceeded the challenge and discouragement of the situation. The introduction is infused with her passion and confidence that she is right. She was then, she is now, and she continues to believe in her work and brilliance. The fervor of her youth remains with her today. In her view the greatest failing of man is the loss of the spirit of youth, the betrayal of the fire, giving up. She contends that age and time persistently rob man of their mind, values, and self-esteem. She concludes by offering these words of inspiration:

“This is one of the cardinal reasons of The Fountainhead’s lasting appeal: it is a confirmation of the spirit of youth, proclaiming man’s glory, showing how much is possible.

“It does not matter that only a few in each generation will grasp and achieve the full reality of man’s proper stature – and that the rest will betray it. It is those few that move the world and give life its meaning – and it is those few that I have always sought to address. The rest are no concern of mine; it is not me or The Fountainhead that they will betray: it is their own souls.”

Ayn Rand, May 1968

Forty years have passed, but these words ring as true as they did on that spring day. We have the opportunity to carry the torch, to preserve the fire to the fulfillment of life’s potential. We are young and ambitious and hold the belief that anything is possible. The Architecture and Anthropology Curiosity Collaborative can be a vehicle for us. This blog, our projects, research, drawings and collaborations are not only outlets of creativity, ideas and experiments, but also a source of inspiration, a source of fuel for the fire. May it burn bright and long.