Unpublic Public Spaces: Hostile Architecture and Culture
Tattered tents, dirtied sleeping bags, and cardboard beds litter the streets of San Francisco, manifesting the housing shortage that has been plaguing California since the 1980s. A combination of developments–from cuts to mental health services and public housing, to rising unemployment rates and house prices–forced thousands of citizens out of their homes decades ago.
The consequences are still apparent today: in California alone, over 161,500 people experience homelessness on any given day, making it the U.S, state with the largest homeless population. Among that group, about 71% are living without shelter—sleeping on the streets of the Golden State. However, hostile architecture, also known as “anti-homeless architecture,” threatens to make matters worse. This facet of urban design is used to purposely restrict human behavior, targeting the people who use those public spaces out of necessity.
TJ Johnston, a reporter for the Coalition on Homelessness, a policy and advocacy organization for unhoused people, explains how some communities have been disproportionately affected by homelessness.
“The African-American community in San Francisco, while only representing maybe about 5% of the city's population, constitutes about 37% of the unhoused population,” Johnston said. “And you could find a similar trend with Latinx people and with the LGBTQ community . . . and I think it all goes back to affordability, or the lack thereof.”
Hostile architecture, described by Johnston as “another tactic to exclude unhoused people from public space,” is present everywhere, though easily ignored by housed people. However, the people directly targeted can't afford that luxury. Spikes embedded in the concrete, for example, make it impossible for someone to lay down and find shelter for the evening, but someone unaffected by homelessness walks by without thinking twice.
“If you're not actively looking for them, they pretty much blend into the background,” Johnston said. “But once you see those particular patterns, say, like, a park bench that has an armrest right in the middle, you just can't unsee it, no matter how hard you try.”
As Johnston has personally experienced homelessness, he holds a personal opinion on the public design that directly affected him.
“You know, seeing spikes on a windowsill, or studs on the sidewalk, I see those as, not just ugly, but cruel,” Johnston said. “And there are so many things to worry about when you're living without housing. And that's just one more added annoyance, to see all these studs, spikes, fences, rocks, or anything that would keep somebody from enjoying a moment of comfort.”
Lack of awareness of these inhumane designs is a major reason why they still exist.
“Just recently, it seems like cities across the U.S. are kind of becoming aware of the human crisis that is homelessness,” Johnston said. “And not just as a nuisance or an eyesore to people who are housed. And there have been efforts in the past few years, and I think maybe the COVID pandemic, kind of like you know, helped spur things or kick things into gear.”
Johnston recommends everyday actions that people can take to help.
“Urge our elected officials and our local governments to move towards actual solutions to homelessness,” Johnston said. “In the meantime, support your unhoused neighbors in any way that you can. Getting to know your unhoused neighbors . . . affirms their autonomy, their own personhood. Do it in a way that makes them feel that they're human and that they're worthy of support.”