“So utterly Apple-y.” That’s how John Gruber described the plans for Apple’s new Cupertino corporate campus, the Spaceship Campus as some like to call it. He’s right of course; Norman Foster’s minimalist modern aesthetic, the rational and pure geometry, the simplicity of the design, even the planned use of exorbitantly expensive curved glass instead of segmenting the curve using straight pieces of glass all perfectly encapsulate the very essence of Apple. It is readily apparent that the same thoughtfulness and care that went into crafting the iPhone created the Spaceship. In fact, as I previously proposed, Apple’s new campus is, for better or for worse, the inevitable result of the Apple design philosophy - a relentless pursuit of purity and simplicity in minimalist forms.
But the Spaceship isn’t Apple-y in form only. Design is a process of compromise, of deciding what matters and what doesn’t in a sea of conflicting interests. Because design is a process of prioritizing needs there is always a greater story beyond just aesthetic preferences. The structures we build and the places we craft are a reflection of our values and the Apple Spaceship, whether intentionally or not, is the ultimate physical manifestation of Apple’s values. The insular, cocoon-like form of the building aligns with Apple’s culture of standing apart from the crowd and doing its own thing. The aloof separation from the surrounding city makes sense in light of the legendary Apple culture of secrecy. Perhaps coincidentally the large donut even perfectly reflects the Apple organization chart that Fortune produced in 2011.
This is the story of place - every place. Every building we erect and every town we develop tells a story of us. It has been said “you are what you eat”. The same is true of our places - we are what we build. The story of place is not just about a corporation or the owner of a single building but, when taken in its entirety, about our culture as a whole. Individual buildings can have very unique and interesting tales to tell about their owners but they always fit into a greater context - they always have a variety of influences and, in turn, influence widely as well. The best architecture carefully crafts an intentional and appropriate message for the society these buildings serve. However, intentional or not, there is always meaning in what we build.
It is no coincidence, then, that the rotunda of the US Capitol is a place for the people and not for a specific function of Congress. For thousands of years the dome has been used to demarcate the most important part of buildings, first in the Roman basilica then in Christian cathedrals after the Church adopted the basilica building form. In the original Roman basilicas the dome rose over the judge and in the churches the dome covered the alter. In both types, the dome signified the most important, even sacred, place within the structure. Knowing this, the architects of the US Capitol placed the dome not over the House of Representatives or the Senate, not even in association with the President or any function of the executive branch, but over a place of The People. Architecturally, the most prestigious place, the most prominent symbol of our government, is a place any one of us can occupy yet no single person can claim. And it is fittingly so. The United States is, after all, a “government of the people, by the people, for the people”. This might be a subtle and nuanced inference but it is by no means obscure. It is something that can be felt, even if only by intuition, regardless of whether the concept is explicitly explained or not.
It is natural and appropriate for a culture to place important and significant buildings in prominent and prestigious locations. The end of an axis, the center of town, the front of a square, the top of a knoll; these are all fitting locations for places of cultural and social significance. What do we build in these locations? Many times civic or cultural institutions such as town halls, courthouses, museums, libraries, schools, and churches are built in these places. But sometimes we ignore the prominence completely or place buildings of questionable importance in these prominent locations. For example, near where I live a movie theater was placed at the raised terminus of the newly developed town center main street. Now I like going to the movies as much as the next person but I question what that means for us as a culture when a place of cheap entertainment occupies the most prominent site in the town.
It isn’t just the prominent buildings that tell us of ourselves. The way we weave the background fabric of our lives, the places we live in daily, tells us much of what we value. Our cities, our towns, our rural countryside, even our sprawling suburbia speaks volumes about what we, as individuals and as a society, value. It is true that some of the values portrayed by our places may not be values that we collectively hold but are merely the whims of entrenched interests that are very difficult to dislodge.
As I look around the places of my life I’m sadly dissatisfied. I see places that speak of waste and greed, places that speak of autonomy over community, places that speak of segregation by race, wealth, age, and many other criteria rather than the rich diversity life can offer, places where the entrenched minority dictate to the weak majority. These places don’t speak to my values nor do they reflect the best of humanity. We can do better. We must do better. Thankfully the world is full of places that inspire. Places that connect, nurture, and fulfill. Places to love and learn. Places with soul. Places with character. Places that are, above all, human. Because when we can connect with the humanity of a Place, we can truly thrive.
So I encourage you to look around at the places of your life. What do they say about you personally and about society as a whole? It may be a subtle, nuanced message. It may even be an unintentional message. But just like Apple’s Spaceship our places speak to our values and culture. We are what we build. Or, perhaps more accurately, we build who we are.
November 5, 2012 | 
