We don't like coal today, but it certainly transformed Victorian-era architecture:

“It is the biggest transition in the history of our species, with the possible exception of starting to use fire at all in the first place,” says Barnabas Calder, author of the groundbreaking study “Architecture: From Prehistory to Climate Emergency.” Fireplaces had to be redesigned for coal, smaller, and more efficient, and could now be distributed throughout the house, warming a sequence of smaller rooms that contained heat more efficiently. Brick, which also requires substantial amounts of energy to produce, became affordable. And glass, too, was accessible to ordinary people. “Coal affects the way you can achieve comfort conditions in a building, and it is a very affordable way of producing a significant amount of warmth, which allows for bigger windows. Even more significant is that it opens up a series of new building materials.”

But as new technologies transformed how we thought about it architecture, they also transformed how we thought about climate. Buildings used to have to be carefully "tuned" to their local environment. You had to think about where the sun was coming in, how you were going to trap it during the winter months, and how you were going to release it during the summer months, among many other things.

Eventually though, this stopped mattering.

We had building systems that could take care of these matters, which then meant that we were free to aspire to build the exact same architecture in Phoenix as in London. But we now know that that this doesn't make much sense. And this recent architectural tour from the Washington Post, which starts in 16th century England, is a good reminder that the lessons learned many centuries ago are in fact still relevant today.

Maybe even more so.

I was on a panel last month with Jamie Miller, director of biomimicry at B+H Architects, and he remined me just how much I am fascinated by the use of biomimicry in architecture and engineering. Nature is pretty impressive and I think there's a lot that we can learn from her.

Here is a recently completed example of what I'm talking about.

The project is the new Pinal County Attorney's Office in Florence, Arizona (designed by DLR Group). What the team did here was try and emulate the skin of the saguaro cactus. That ultimately translated into vertical self-shading fins on the envelope of the building.

Here's what that looks like (via DLR Group):

Here is some evidence suggesting that the fins are truly helping performance (via Urbanland):

And here is the explanation for why it works and why nature does this (also via Urbanland):

Sit in front of a saguaro cactus for an hour and you will see the way it protects itself and thrives in the intense desert heat. Its vertical fins provide continuous self-shading and redistribution of heat. This ability to self-shade breaks sunlight up into smaller areas that shift continually, preventing any one area of the cactus skin from overheating. This adaptation not only makes the saguaro viable, but also gives it a beautiful and distinct character. Creating a 3-D computer-generated model of a saguaro cactus and using a daylighting simulation model confirmed that no part of the plant received more than 15 to 20 minutes of direct sun at any one time, avoiding the possibility of sunburn.

How cool.

We don't like coal today, but it certainly transformed Victorian-era architecture:

“It is the biggest transition in the history of our species, with the possible exception of starting to use fire at all in the first place,” says Barnabas Calder, author of the groundbreaking study “Architecture: From Prehistory to Climate Emergency.” Fireplaces had to be redesigned for coal, smaller, and more efficient, and could now be distributed throughout the house, warming a sequence of smaller rooms that contained heat more efficiently. Brick, which also requires substantial amounts of energy to produce, became affordable. And glass, too, was accessible to ordinary people. “Coal affects the way you can achieve comfort conditions in a building, and it is a very affordable way of producing a significant amount of warmth, which allows for bigger windows. Even more significant is that it opens up a series of new building materials.”

But as new technologies transformed how we thought about it architecture, they also transformed how we thought about climate. Buildings used to have to be carefully "tuned" to their local environment. You had to think about where the sun was coming in, how you were going to trap it during the winter months, and how you were going to release it during the summer months, among many other things.

Eventually though, this stopped mattering.

We had building systems that could take care of these matters, which then meant that we were free to aspire to build the exact same architecture in Phoenix as in London. But we now know that that this doesn't make much sense. And this recent architectural tour from the Washington Post, which starts in 16th century England, is a good reminder that the lessons learned many centuries ago are in fact still relevant today.

Maybe even more so.

I was on a panel last month with Jamie Miller, director of biomimicry at B+H Architects, and he remined me just how much I am fascinated by the use of biomimicry in architecture and engineering. Nature is pretty impressive and I think there's a lot that we can learn from her.

Here is a recently completed example of what I'm talking about.

The project is the new Pinal County Attorney's Office in Florence, Arizona (designed by DLR Group). What the team did here was try and emulate the skin of the saguaro cactus. That ultimately translated into vertical self-shading fins on the envelope of the building.

Here's what that looks like (via DLR Group):

Here is some evidence suggesting that the fins are truly helping performance (via Urbanland):

And here is the explanation for why it works and why nature does this (also via Urbanland):

Sit in front of a saguaro cactus for an hour and you will see the way it protects itself and thrives in the intense desert heat. Its vertical fins provide continuous self-shading and redistribution of heat. This ability to self-shade breaks sunlight up into smaller areas that shift continually, preventing any one area of the cactus skin from overheating. This adaptation not only makes the saguaro viable, but also gives it a beautiful and distinct character. Creating a 3-D computer-generated model of a saguaro cactus and using a daylighting simulation model confirmed that no part of the plant received more than 15 to 20 minutes of direct sun at any one time, avoiding the possibility of sunburn.

How cool.