In architecture we can see a similar problem, whereas the competition is driven by designs which have worked out in the past. Of course there is a progress happening - but rather slowly.

How can we make design more inclusive and diverse in our capitalistic driven system?

While design impacts our daily lives through the objects we use, architecture provides the physical spaces we inhabit. Both fields reflect the social values of their time: in the 20th century, functionality was the mainstream, but today, the design process orients itself more on to participation, sustainability and collective community design.

Design and architecture both grapple with the same pressing question: how do we build a future worth living in? Or like mentioned in the text „What world do we want to build?“ Economic interests and capitalism failed us. We need innovative ideas that prioritize social and environmental factors— this makes architecture and design the defining tools of our era.

The capitalist system is controlling and entrenched in the minds of the elites. It also helps the power-hungry to expand their power and the money-hungry to generate more money.

Furthermore, we see that this system is also firmly entrenched in the minds of many ordinary people, who protect the elites.

So how can a benevolent, non-charitable design be implemented across the board and how can it hold its own against the aggressive, competitive capitalist system?

This made me think about the role of architecture today: even when we think that a project is only technical or functional, in reality it always carries with it a certain idea of society and how people should live together. I think it is crucial to contribute to a design that is truly sensitive to social and cultural contexts, finding alternative ways of designing that avoid the standardisation imposed by the economic system.

I ask myself: how can design become a tool to promote social and cultural justice?

"In a world in rapid and profound transformation, we are all designers. . . . The more tradition is weakened, the more subjects must learn to design their own
lives and shift from a prevalence of activities carried out in a traditional way to one in which choices are mainly of design."

Arturo Escobar also makes this point in his text, stating that design is present in every aspect in our lives. Through globalization and technological advances, we have the whole world at our fingertips. Why then, is design still a matter of experts, when everyone has the ability to participate in it? The urge to reorientate from the functionalist, rationalistic approach towards an ontological approach on all domains is urgent.

As we begin to think design towards our field in urban design and architecture, this also applies towards our practice. The rapid growth of urban areas urges us even more to take an alternative approach, breaking free from our cookie-cutter problem solving way of thinking shifting towards a problem-acknowledging and critical user-friendly approach.

Escobar states, that contemporary design, which is moving towards this reorientation, does indeed exist and is talked about more. However, it is not moving at the needed pace for today’s rapid transformations within out society.

To this, the question poses itself: How can we as the experts in the field be the mediator to provide the ontological approach of design unrestrained grounds to unfold, while still being situated in the territory of patriarchal capitalist modernity, to fulfill the urgent needs of the global to be decelerated towards a more thinkering society?

One key challenge is that even well-intentioned design interventions risk being co-opted by the very forces they seek to challenge. Participatory and community-led design approaches, for example, can be absorbed into corporate strategies or policy frameworks that maintain the status quo.

Given these dynamics, how can designers create spaces and objects that not only resist but actively subvert the dominant economic and political forces shaping our world?

But is it realistic to expect a change like this in design under capitalism?

How can local autonomy and global transitions be combined in a way that makes sense?

And can this approach also be relevant and effective outside of Latin America?

I am thinking that society/market will have a say in determining which designs/developments/progress will be accepted. So I wonder what progress, what examples there are where the consumer has resisted progress.

And with today's discussion of AI, we are back at a point, as with the invention of the pocket calculator, of how we deal with this progress.

Our contemporary crisis is not just a collection of problems but a fundamental issue in how society is structured; as patriarchal, Western, capitalistic modernity. Ironically, we attempt to tackle modernity with more modernity and are thus reinforcing the very structures we aim to change. Design, however, is fundamental to shaping ways of being, knowing, and doing. The tools we create in turn shape us, revealing the practical potential of design to to contribute to profound societal transformations.

I would like to argue that all thought is already an act of design, since every conclusion is calculated and decided. But then how do we navigate such a complex world and move beyond these systems? A radical shift is needed, one that moves beyond consumerist and capitalistic constraints to re-engage with fundamental needs and rethinks our thinking. This requires a more intuitive and relational approach to design; an ontological shift that embraces both interdependence and autonomy. A coexistence of multiple realities and perspectives, as suggested by Escobar through the pluriverse, would offer a promising approach. It fosters broad participation and empowers individuals and communities to shape diverse possibilities rather than conforming to a one-size-fits-all model. [Could be linked to Sopandi.]

How can we ensure that this approach is not co-opted by dominant systems but remains a genuine space for alternative ways of designing and living?

How can we balance urgency with intentionality and keep the right degree of purposefulness?

The urban issue at stake here is the impact of modern design practices on social and ecological systems. Escobar critiques the dominant design paradigms that often prioritize commercial and modernizing goals, which can lead to the marginalization of local communities and the degradation of natural environments. He advocates for a more autonomous and place-based approach to design that respects and integrates the knowledge and practices of indigenous and local communities.

“The old technologies were once new” , this made me wonder how we can continue to make architecture that makes sense in a forever marginalizing and changing world? Are we continuously going to run after technology, only to always come to the conclusion that our designs are outdated? I really liked the phrase “From mindless development to design mindfulness”, could a people-centered approach be the answer to this discord in society?

At the same time, consumption weakens social practices such as sharing or borrowing. In cities, for example, urban sprawl replaced the commons, and private gardens with fences now mark ownership. However, climate change and resource scarcity are prompting a shift in thinking: concepts like community-supported agriculture are reviving the commons.

How can spaces be created to benefit the community? How can they turn people into co-creators? Who takes responsibility, and how is ownership regulated?

This argument really stuck with me because it shows how design isn’t just about aesthetics or convenience, it also influences power structures and identities. Take urban planning, for example: the way cities are designed determines who has access to resources, how communities interact, and who gets left out. If design is inherently political, then it can be a force for justice as much as for oppression. However, the challenge for us remains: How can designers trained in Western institutions truly embrace pluriversal and decolonial approaches without replicating the very systems we try to avoid?

One of the central critiques presented is that design, rather than being a neutral practice, is fundamentally linked to the decisions that shape our lives and environments. This perspective challenges the notion of "design as usual," urging us to confront normative questions about the kind of world we wish to create. The critical inquiry should focus on what we want to happen to us, rather than merely on knowledge or progress. This shift in questioning is essential for understanding how design can either reinforce or challenge capitalist ideologies.

The text also discusses the pervasive nature of capitalism within design, noting that many design practices remain technocratic and market-centered, failing to critically engage with capitalism's implications. Contemporary design contributes to a "pan-capitalist present", where the commodification of design leads to a homogenization of experiences and a lack of genuine critique. That is why the design community must move beyond mere celebration of design's potential and confront its complicity in capitalist structures.

The concept of emotional capital is introduced as a means of understanding how personal and communal investments can be transformed into social and economic benefits. The narratives of individuals like Fato Sakina illustrate how emotional capital can foster community resilience and challenge capitalist norms by prioritizing care and relational ties over profit. This perspective invites a re-evaluation of how design can serve marginalized communities, emphasizing the need for inclusive practices that empower rather than exploit.

Recognizing the role of design in shaping societal values, questioning the normative assumptions underlying design practices, and exploring alternative frameworks that prioritize community well-being and ecological sustainability should be the center of our practice in my opinion. By addressing these issues we can begin to envision a more equitable and responsible approach to design that transcends the limitations of capitalist ideologies.

Some questions regarding this future also came to my mind:

What strategies can be employed to ensure that marginalized voices are included in the architectural decision-making process? How feasible is that actually with all the political, economical etc. structures? In what ways can design be utilized to address the ecological and social crises faced by communities, particularly in the context of displacement and loss of land? How much can we do there and what means do we need to move something forward? How can architects collaborate with local activists and community leaders to create spaces that support collective autonomy and well-being? Without being complete outsiders and invading the space of such communities? There I actually think the last reading and lecture on Nablus and the Yalla Project would be a great step but is that kind of work applicable on other structures?

Design has the potential for social change, but often it mirrors the economic priorities of the moment. Profit-driven transformations obscure the lived realities of these spaces. The question isn’t whether design can drive change, but whether it can escape the grip of profit. Until it does, it will only reinforce the status quo.

However, one challenge could be how designers, who are often embedded in capitalist institutions, truly detach from dominant power structures? Additionally, could there also be a risk that "pluriversal design" could be co-opted by mainstream industries in superficial ways, diluting its radical potential?

Instead of following traditions like people did for many centuries, today many people in the western world face the challenge of having to shape and design their own ways of life. There seems to be a big confusion and mingling of options, were people increasingly get lost in. Also design - for example city planning - seems to be a wild compilation of thousands of design choices that are mainly made according to factors like profit and money.

The author claims that design should go back to the knowledge that exists within communities, cultures and places, instead of being opposed from forces in a top-down kind of way. Design should include more aspects of everyday-life like the ways of doing things, culture, social practices, tradition and the specific nature surrounding the place.

But how much of this internal and local knowledge of communities is still preserved and available, or did most of it get lost due to globalization and colonial practices?

If this resource was still available, could a life that is based on traditions, rituals and culture bring back some of the stability that we lost?

And how to ensure to not fall in the trap of strong nationalism and conservatism that ultimately very often leads to exclusion?

Can every individual find a local community were they feel like they belong into and can those communities live peacefully next to each other?

Design is a key element in who we become.

Design shapes being and identity.

Given the evolution of design described in the text, from a more object-oriented approach towards a more context-aware and human-centered way of thinking, what specific strategies would be most crucial for contemporary designers to effectively integrate this approach into their practical work?

Postmodernism emerged as a response, advocating for diversity, historical continuity, and mixed-use spaces. This theory values cultural identity and complexity, but it sometimes lacks a coherent structure, creating fragmented urban environments. A more recent approach, sustainable urbanism, seeks to balance growth with environmental responsibility. It promotes green infrastructure, public participation, and adaptable designs. However, its implementation is often hindered by political and financial constraints.

A central issue discussed in the text is the gap between theoretical ideals and real-world challenges. Cities are shaped not only by planners but also by economic pressures, governance, and social needs. The document suggests that no single theory can address all urban issues and that successful urban design requires flexibility.

In my view, the future of urban design lies in a pragmatic combination of these theories. Rigid frameworks should give way to adaptable strategies that respond to local conditions. Instead of imposing predefined models, urban planners must integrate community-driven solutions, ensuring that cities remain both functional and livable in a rapidly changing world.

The inclusion of thinkers like Humberto Maturana and Adolfo Albán points to the idea that the problems we face are not simply technical or knowledge-based, but deeply rooted in the very conditions of our existence. This perspective shifts the focus from solving isolated problems to addressing the larger, interconnected issues of sustainability, social justice, and community well-being. It’s a call for designers to take a normative stance asking not just how to make things work, but how things ought to be in a world that increasingly demands social, political, and ecological responsibility.

As design becomes a tool for envisioning alternative futures, this question prompts designers to reconsider their role in shaping not just products or services, but the very world in which those products exist. It invites designers to be part of a broader, more inclusive process of social transformation.

When planning a new climate park in Copenhagen, design was used as a driving force for social change. The interdisciplinary collaboration of different professional groups on an equal footing enabled new, innovative approaches that a specialist expert alone would not have been able to develop. Different stakeholders were involved, which is important in the development of urban planning or architectural projects. Designers have the role of facilitators and mediators, not technical experts. Design should be user-centered, participative, collaborative and contextual. I believe that this alternative approach should definitely be pursued further.

To what extent can digital technologies be used as supporting media in changing design processes? In response to the questions from the text “Does it matter whether we engage in activities collectively in the neighborhood or in the solitude of our individual rooms in nuclear homes? Whether we dance and make music with others or listen to it in silence through our earphones?” I would answer with a clear yes, especially with regard to our mental health, as social contacts strengthen our well-being. We should ask ourselves: How do we want to shape our world and what kind of future do we want as human beings?

Both Arturo Escobar in Design for the Pluriverse and Grace Ndiritu in Healing the Museum deal with the question of how existing systems - be it design or the museum - can be made more human-centered. Both criticize the fact that Western institutions often create abstract, technocratic or elitist structures that have little to do with people's real needs and experiences.

Escobar calls for a design that is not just functional or market-oriented, but is socially embedded and adapted to local contexts. Instead of a universal, often Eurocentric design logic, he advocates a pluriversal approach in which different forms of knowledge and ways of life are taken into account.

Ndiritu pursues a similar idea in the field of museums. She criticizes the fact that museums are often distanced, static places that force the public into a passive role. With Healing the Museum, she is trying to turn museums back into spaces of experience and interaction through performative, participatory and spiritual practices. In doing so, she calls for a more people-friendly museum that not only preserves knowledge but also actively engages with its visitors.

To what extent is a genuine transformation of design possible within Western institutions? Or do pluriversal approaches and spiritual practices end up being merely superficial “additions” to existing structures without really changing them?

As an architect, how do you ensure that the design is intelligible and understandable and that you do not project your own views and perspectives onto the project?

While reading this extract, I’ve tried to connect Arturo Escobar’s arguments with our current academic subjects. The dire need to change the perspective of design, by shifting from a purely technocratic mindset to a participatory, mediating approach, has been debated and (probably) settled in the field (or theory) of urban design. Planning models have already been criticized heavily: the dominant “rational model” from the 50s, who relied on a technocratic and purely scientific approach, has been described as too positivistic, ignoring fundamental societal, historical and political aspects. Not only has the definition of urban design changed, but also the role of the planner itself – From a quantitative, all-knowing scientist, to a political “lawyer” defending the weaker actors, to the mediator of a public debate without expert knowledge.

Arturo Escobar’s points aren’t new to a contemporary practitioner – So another question arises. Have his aspects been applied in our architectonical field? Participatory processes are being organised in some fairly sized competitions for public works, but have the underlying conditions mentioned in the text been challenged by the existing mechanisms and our current comprehension of these problems? I would argue against it. We are all aware of it, but this movement is restricted to a purely theoretical basis. Therefore, my thoughts are directed towards how to actually implement these notions into our every-day practice with greater effect – And for that to work, we need an extremely precise discussion about the underlying economical, societal and political conditions of every case study, avoiding generalization and simplicity.

Escobar also critiques how societal structures—such as political, economic, and cultural forces—shape design. He argues that existing power structures constrain the potential for truly transformative, community-led design. Even well-meaning participatory approaches are vulnerable to being absorbed by corporate interests or political systems that reinforce the status quo. This leads me to my final question: How can designers create spaces and objects that actively resist and challenge the dominant forces controlling our world?

So can design, as long as it's stuck in this system, ever really drive change, or is it always just going to be a tool for keeping the same power structures in place?

However, participatory design also needs from the presence of a large variety of positions—or expertise—in other to reach a way of doing that reflects plurality. What is then the role of the diverse experts, not necessarily meaning ‘people that have different educational degrees’, in participatory design? Until which degree does certain ‘expert knowledge’ weight more than other opinions when talking about specific topics in the design process?

Escobar treats this question by examining design as an ontological practice through areas of change and intersection with a special focus on the Global South and the ways in which design can increase communal autarky, out of the traditional market-focus.

In the first chapter, Escobar traces the understanding of design and its anthropological role. The striking quote “design is a key element in who we become because of the kinds of practices designed objects and tools call on us to perform,” summarises his stance on the significance on design. The author draws upon historical developments to highlight how this has been true and also how the tendency of design was to move with modernity more to the professional field and away from being a more horizontal social function. In this he sees a loss but also a simultaneous expansion of design through all the spheres of life. Escobar advocates for a more inclusive approach and understanding. He examines “a shift to people-centered” design. This is naturally creditable, however the question is how does one practically apply such concepts? How can one make the design of the city more people-centred? What can one do to create a city that would be designed to be in a constant negotiation between its inhabitants and their experiences?

The people of Macondo aren’t naïve. Their reactions, bewilderment, anger, rejection, are deeply human. They sense that these machines are not just tools, but symbols of a new order. And as the mayor declares the cinema a “machine of illusions,” we see how quickly wonder becomes something to be governed.

Today, we find ourselves again in Macondo only now with artificial intelligence. Machines no longer just projiect stories they write them. They compose, draw, speak.

Much like when the first camera arrived and painters feared the end of art, we now ask: Will AI replace us? Or will it force us to redefine what it means to create?

Still, unease lingers. Who controls these systems? Who decides what truth they simulate? And what happens to human expression when illusion is no longer imposed, but personalized?

And maybe that’s what the people of Macondo remind us of: that what overwhelms us is not the invention itself, but what it demands from us. They stayed up all night staring at the lightbulbs, not because of what they did, but because of what they meant. A sense of something larger arriving. Of the world shifting under their feet.

Just like them, we too are standing in that in-between space between disbelief and desire, between control and awe. Our machines grow more powerful, but perhaps we haven’t changed all that much. We still project, still fear, still long for something we can’t quite name.

So the question remains: If the people of Macondo once broke the cinema seats out of protest against illusion, what will we break, when the illusions come from within us, wearing our own voice?

While more technology was desirable for a long time, we now have reached a point where we need to ask ourselves: Is more technology always better? Is sometimes the lack of technology, but the human/ social/ environmental surplus, the better option after all? What is progress in this age of global crisis? And then, how can we as designers shape and implement these ideas in todays world?

Design is here critiqued as an all-powerful tool, yet in reality, it reflects existing ways of living. What the text lacks, however, is a shift in perspective, from the systemic to the individual. Change in design cannot occur without first transforming how we engage with it. For an ontologically grounded design to emerge, users must cultivate a deeper, more intimate relationship with the built environment, taking responsibility for its form, maintenance, and use.

One notable shortcoming in this text, and in many intellectual circles, is the absence of a human-scale perspective. Grand visions for systemic change remain insufficient without a corresponding shift in individual behavior. The real transformation must begin with how we relate to our surroundings, rejecting the notion of built spaces as static, impersonal backdrops for which we bear no accountability. The same applies to how we engage with our communities.

At the end of this text, I am asking myself two questions:

What specific ontological traits, such as relationality, interdependence, or care, should inform a design philosophy that prioritizes mutual well-being between humans and the Earth?

And more importantly:

How can design foster a sense of shared responsibility and agency among users, shifting from passive consumption to active participation in shaping the built environment?

The question of how design can contribute to the cultural and political autonomy of marginalized communities challenges us to make design more inclusive and participatory. It's not just about designing physical spaces but also about fostering social processes that can integrate both social responsibility and ecological sustainability. How can we, as architects, develop a practice that not only provides functional solutions but also balances the social, cultural, and ecological dimensions, while catalyzing genuine change?

As I continue reading, I find myself reflecting on the question of good or bad in technology. I can relate to many examples in the text, such as the feeling of disappointment when the initial hype around a new device fades and it suddenly feels somewhat dull or the example when digital music cannot capture the real feeling of live music. However, I wonder whether romanticizing the past risks overlooking the positive aspects of progress—whether in technology or capitalism - and thereby becomes untrustworthy. Today, we can access knowledge from all over the world, virtually walk through Lagos in seconds (via Maps), stay in touch with friends in Paris (while still visiting them in person from time to time, which is crucial), or tap into Wikipedia’s vast knowledge.

Of course, there are counterarguments—it's a problem to constantly reach for our phones, skim through everything, and never truly retain information—but there are advantages too, and I feel they are sometimes overlooked. In a way, isn't IKEA also a form of democratizing design?

Another point I find interesting is the relationship between experts and laypeople.

Naturally, designing in a user-centered way is the right approach—really understanding what is needed and what isn’t, focusing on problem-finding rather than problem-solving. But it gets interesting when we consider the role of experts —how valuable is their experience and education in contributing to solutions compared to someone with no prior knowledge in the field?

I feel that, at its core, it is about asking more questions, understanding what people truly need (maybe even helping them to find out), and critically assessing assignments rather than blindly producing. Not explaining, but understanding as the driving force of insight. Still, I believe experts should continue to play a crucial role in finding solutions. The word "facilitator" captures this well—someone who understands what others need and then applies their skills to meet those needs.

As I continue reading, I find myself reflecting on the question of good or bad in technology. I can relate to many examples in the text, such as the feeling of disappointment when the initial hype around a new device fades and it suddenly feels somewhat dull or the example when digital music cannot capture the real feeling of live music. However, I wonder whether romanticizing the past risks overlooking the positive aspects of progress—whether in technology or capitalism - and thereby becomes untrustworthy. Today, we can access knowledge from all over the world, virtually walk through Lagos in seconds (via Maps), stay in touch with friends in Paris (while still visiting them in person from time to time, which is crucial), or tap into Wikipedia’s vast knowledge.

Of course, there are counterarguments—it's a problem to constantly reach for our phones, skim through everything, and never truly retain information—but there are advantages too, and I feel they are sometimes overlooked. In a way, isn't IKEA also a form of democratizing design?

Another point I find interesting is the relationship between experts and laypeople.

Naturally, designing in a user-centered way is the right approach—really understanding what is needed and what isn’t, focusing on problem-finding rather than problem-solving. But it gets interesting when we consider the role of experts —how valuable is their experience and education in contributing to solutions compared to someone with no prior knowledge in the field?

I feel that, at its core, it is about asking more questions, understanding what people truly need (maybe even helping them to find out), and critically assessing assignments rather than blindly producing. Not explaining, but understanding as the driving force of insight. Still, I believe experts should continue to play a crucial role in finding solutions. The word "facilitator" captures this well—someone who understands what others need and then applies their skills to meet those needs.

An ontological approach to design implies a deep understanding of the status quo and the way our existential environment influences and manipulates our sociocultural constructs. Only with this awareness can we free ourselves from archidictature, the product of the current neoliberal Eurocentric capitalist system, as criticized by Escobar.

To free ourselves from this condition means recognizing the diversity and interdependence that shape the complexity of our existential space. It means accepting that, although we, as architects, are trained to understand this complexity and thus orient it, we do not have the right to manipulate it as a whole. I believe it is our duty to acknowledge its autonomy and allow space for the spontaneous appropriation and co-formation of this environment, overcoming a dictatorial and disconnected vision of spatial configuration.

How feasible is it, within neoliberal capitalism, to include marginalized voices in decision-making and design processes, especially in large-scale spatial design and planning? How could pluriversal design be applied on a large scale by those in power without diluting its radical potential? This question connects to the last session's Yalla project and the reading of bell hooks.

Limitations often lead to innovation. When existing solutions no longer work, or when we are constrained by certain conditions, we are pushed to reflect and seek out new ways of thinking and creating.

The text presents four emerging frameworks that push us to rethink design more deeply: ontological design, transition design, social innovation, and autonomous design. These approaches emphasize that design is not just about objects, but about how those objects shape human behavior, culture, and social systems. There is a transformative potential in design that calls for more inclusive, reflective, and context-sensitive practices.

While reading the text, it made me wonder:

As societies become increasingly cosmopolitan, with a diversity of communities and ways of living, is it possible for us as architects and designers to truly include every community in our work or is it more respectful and effective to allow some communities to remain culturally distinct and design differently for every community?

Design is all around us, everything that surrounds us is the fruit of human reflection. Thanks to its central position, design could be a key element in a societal transition. Arturo Escobar's text, Design for the Pluriverse, questions the place that design should take. Could it be more responsive to today's global challenges?

Re-questioning design means re-questioning society as a whole, because of course design should evolve and adapt better to social and environmental needs, but this requires a more global questioning of our way of life and political interventions. So my question is this: Through design, could we initiate a transition? Or is it through politics that this is played out?

If design remains trapped in this system, can it truly change ? How can it become a tool for different power structures ?

Could technologies designed in and for market forces be used to create communal forms of autonomy, reimagining or reinventing the human for a post-capitalist system and post-capitalist human relations?

But grassroots efforts and bottom-up initiatives face significant hurdles within capitalist economies, where global market forces continue to reign supreme. As a result, many of these initiatives are short-lived and struggle to create lasting change. This raises an important question: How can inclusive, non-profit design proposals flourish and contribute to social transformation without being influenced by capitalism? Or is design always affected by the economy, meaning we have to deal with capitalism while still trying to change it? In architectural education, I see a special chance to question and break free from the most common stories, make marginalized voices louder, and encourage social change. But the real challenge is how to apply these ideas in real architectural projects.

"How can we design things that work well for everyone, even when people have very different ideas about what's important?"

Who has access to design?

A parallel can be drawn between the two practices of architecture and design. These two fields are interested in the same concepts and have an impact on their environments, on two different scales. However, unlike architecture, the practice of design as we know it remains a privileged discipline that is out of everyone's reach, and owes its success to capitalism and consumerism.

Escobar argues that design must be reoriented to serve the goals of sustainability, collective well-being and environmental justice. This includes design practices that take account of long-term ecological and social impact, and that promote more balanced lifestyles that respect the planet. How can we unravel this superior position it now embodies in order to have a positive impact and evolve freely, integrating values of social justice, sustainability and respect for ontological diversity?

One of the key takeaways is that design is never neutral. It always reflects underlying power structures and societal values. Architecture, in particular, has historically been shaped by economic pressures and dominant ideologies, often reinforcing existing inequalities rather than addressing them. While discussions around participatory and sustainable design have gained traction, the real challenge lies in translating these ideas into practice. The question remains: how can architecture and design actively resist standardization and become tools for meaningful social and cultural transformation rather than simply adapting to market demands?

To move forward, it is necessary to critically examine the systems that shape design processes and explore alternative models that prioritize local knowledge, collaboration, and environmental responsibility. However, this requires not just theoretical reflection but concrete strategies for implementation: how can these ideas be integrated into architectural practice on a larger scale without being reduced to mere tokenism?

In short, with the development of expert knowledge and modern institutions, social norms were sundered from the life-world and defined heteronomously through expert-driven processes; they were no longer generated by communities from within (ontonomy) nor through open political processes at the local level (autonomy).

The quote by Arturo Escobar describes the increasing functionalisation of architecture starting from the time of industrialisation with it reaching it’s peak in modernism. The theorising of the components of life and their transformation into efficient layouts and plans reminds me strongly of Susan Henderson's text "A Revolution in the Woman's Sphere: Grete Lihotzky and the Frankfurt Kitchen" (1966). She thematises the fact that the Frankfurt Kitchen made household processes easier, but led to a double burden for the woman, as she now had more time to pursue a job.  Important elements such as having a relationship with the family while cooking were not taken into account in the extremely limited kitchen space. Instead of asking the future users what was important to them, calculations and theoretical dimensions were used to determine the size and work platforms.

Today, I notice that less of our lifestyles are theorised and packed into floor plans as efficiently as possible in order to optimise our time. The driving factor in most building projects seems to be economic efficiency. It is no longer a question of whether a tap is easy to use, but whether it is the cheapest. To put it bluntly our ways of life and the built environment are no longer controlled by experts, but by money. I recognise Escobar's argument that a change is needed that goes beyond capitalism, but for me many of the other problems are also linked to money. The homes of the modern age were designed to be as efficient as possible for capitalist reasons, for example, to enable more working hours.

Now the question is how design can facilitate this radical change. I certainly see potential in Escobar's statement that the architect must become a mediator. However, I think that the concept of mediator needs to be broadened at this point and can be applied not only in relation to society, but must also mediate between the economy, the experts and nature.

In order to bring about radical change, large-scale projects are required, big top-down interventions as well as bottom-up initiatives. -> All these things have to be negotiated and the architect/designer has the responsibility to lead this negotiation between the different parties and interests.

In architecture, this means designing spaces that foster community and connection, rather than reinforcing the extractive dynamics of capitalism. The challenge is how to design for social change while operating within capitalist systems that commodify our built environment. Architects and designers must not only create but also act as catalysts for transformation, ensuring that designs are rooted in care, collaboration, and the collective good.

The ontological shift in design is not just a theoretical ideal but a practical challenge: How can we move from profit-driven models to ones that prioritize justice and human flourishing?

But can such transformative design truly resist being co-opted by the very systems it seeks to change?

The darker side of design becomes evident when one considers that it carries with it certain values, hierarchies, and polarities. This implies that the concept of design must be fundamentally questioned and a new methodology developed - one in which the focus is no longer on the object, but on the person behind it: “it becomes a medium in the service of society.”

Although this approach makes sense in principle, it remains questionable whether it is realistic. Even today, there are certain efforts to make design more inclusive. However, when trying to please everyone, what works for one group may represent a deficit for another.

Can design change society or wouldn't it require radical changes in our society before we can rethink design? Or do both go hand in hand?

What knowledge was left out when design became a discipline? Whose worldviews shaped its foundations, and whose were ignored or erased? Can we still call it a global practice if it evolved through such a narrow perspective? What does "Western-centric" really mean, when even within the "West" it reflects a small group of elite, academic, and cultural gatekeepers? How can we change this so that design is about many different cultures and ways of knowing and making things?

This text asks how such a narrow history came to define what we think of as "good design" today, and how we can move away from this by focusing again on relationships, local ways of designing the world, and the many different ways of doing things.

To challenge this condition, it is essential to acknowledge the diversity and interdependence that define the complexity of our lived spaces. This requires accepting that, while architects are trained to comprehend and navigate these complexities, we do not possess the authority to fully control them. Instead, we bear the responsibility of recognizing the autonomy of spatial environments and fostering conditions that allow for spontaneous occupation and collective formation. In doing so, we can move away from authoritarian and disconnected approaches to spatial configuration.

How can urban design strategies promote greater inclusivity and adaptability, resisting the imposition of rigid power structures? In what ways can architects balance the necessity of planning with the unpredictability and organic evolution of urban spaces?

The way I interpret this text, the author is advocating for a more activist and generalist understanding of design practice—a facilitator that can assemble all concerned parties around the table and mediate between different interests. How should the educational preparation of designers change to achieve this shift in perspective?

Escobar also acknowledges that the shift toward an alternative “civilizational model” that is no longer ruled by neoliberal logic is a transitional process rather than an abrupt change. How is it possible to change the design approach toward this more holistic and activist understanding if, at the beginning of this transitional process, designers will still be operating within a market-driven environment? Will there be a “first generation” of designers who must make some sort of sacrifice to set this transitional process into motion?

How can designers take Escobar’s idea of the pluriverse and use it to create everyday practices that build stronger community ties and respect for the social environment?

One could argue that conventional sustainable design often operates within the same capitalist framework (that tends to be only green-washing) that created the environmental and social problems it seeks to address. This approach fails to address the root causes of unsustainable practices, resulting in superficial solutions rather than systemic change. As a result, some scholars and designers are calling for a radical redefinition of design, emphasizing participatory, human-centered, and regenerative approaches that prioritize social and environmental well-being over profit.

If design is to truly contribute to a better future, how can it break free from the constraints of capitalism and promote true sustainability?

Can a completely bottom-up design process, without the involvement of experts, work in today's world, which is irrevocably dependent on technology? As mentioned in the text, the goal of modernization was to create a more efficient way of producing in order to spread technology throughout society. Could this type of design also be interpreted as a way to make technology accessible to everyone, regardless of socio-economic background? Without sacrificing the current level of technology, how can society and experts work together to design according to people's needs rather than economics?

Escobar argues that design is not neutral; it reflects values, hierarchies, and power structures, making it both a tool of progress and a symbol of colonialism. The challenge is how to create socially responsible design within a framework that prioritizes profit. Efforts toward inclusivity exist, but true equity is difficult to achieve when different groups have conflicting needs.

A shift away from consumerist and capitalistic constraints is necessary, emphasizing relational and ontological approaches to design. Escobar’s vision of a pluriverse suggests a way forward: embracing multiple realities and perspectives to foster broad participation and diverse possibilities, rather than imposing a singular model. However, ensuring that these ideas are not co-opted by dominant systems remains a challenge.

Moreover, history shows that human societies have always balanced egoism with social agency. If capitalism inherently favors profit-driven decision-making, is a truly social design approach even possible within it? Cooperative housing and alternative models exist, yet they often become exclusive rather than transformative. How can architecture and urban planning navigate these tensions to create spaces that serve collective well-being rather than perpetuate inequality?

Can architecture and urban planning genuinely foster social and environmental justice within a capitalist framework, or does meaningful change require a fundamental restructuring of economic and political systems?

The idea that design is ontological and therefore shapes being struck me. That means the designs we create aren’t neutral, but they carry assumptions in what way we want to live. If we design for efficiency, growth and profit we reinforce a system that privileges certain values. How would the world look like if we designed for care, community and slowness far from our ways of living hyper fast that is obsessed with efficiency?

This can be linked to the marginalized communities in Latin America who try to defend their “life projects” against global forces. How can these alternative forms of design and knowledge survive global capitalism? Will they just become “trendy” design tools?

Escobar hopes that we might move from mindless development to mindfulness, from expert-driven design to collective, autonomous processes. Is this happening? Who gets to design the world and who gets to live in it? Can we architects design “with” instead of “for”? How does this way of designing look like? Participatory workshops? What might be some cons and difficulties? How can this method be implemented in practice and education? Maybe this course is an example that raises awareness in this contemporary way of thinking about design.

Instead of designing in a vacuum dictated by industry norms, the text urges us to consider how participatory, socially oriented strategies can lead to more environmentally responsible and meaningful outcomes. Challenging “business as usual,” and inviting us to reimagine design as a practice in the service of society. One that prizes human experience and interconnectedness over isolated technical advancement, shifting urban development from market-centric growth to prioritizing local identity and societal well-being.

How can urban designers meaningfully incorporate community voices into decision-making processes without tokenizing their participation?

tally responsible lives (Thackara 2004)?" really powerful sentence from chapter "Out of the Studio and into the Flow

of Socionatural Life". So I am thinking: How can Architecture schools free themselves of one design strategies? And maybe keep or gather studies of traditional building?

How can tradition be strengthened and passed on without showcasing it in world fairs - that is the symbol of colonism. How can tradition be strengthened in the global south without us western people telling them how to do so? Would a Foundation with money help and let them do what they want?

Could globalization (industrialization), technology development, capitalism and modernity not also be a chance for traditional and contemporary design? How could handcrafted jobs be promoted instead of the mass-produced gods?

tally responsible lives (Thackara 2004)?" really powerful sentence from chapter "Out of the Studio and into the Flow

of Socionatural Life". So I am thinking: How can Architecture schools free themselves of one design strategies? And maybe keep or gather studies of traditional building?

How can tradition be strengthened and passed on without showcasing it in world fairs - that is the symbol of colonism. How can tradition be strengthened in the global south without us western people telling them how to do so? Would a Foundation with money help and let them do what they want? 

Could globalization (industrialization), technology development, capitalism and modernity not also be a chance for traditional and contemporary design? How could handcrafted jobs be promoted instead of the mass-produced gods?

In a very basic, pure and critical perspective, we, humans, are inherently designers. Design is an integral aspect of human existence. Our very existence produces designs, which in turn shape our daily life experiences. It emerges from our innate desire to transform existing conditions and cultivate heightened sensitivities towards both environmental and human challenges.

However, the industrial era's interpretation of design has become excessively Western-centric, solidifying it as a central political tool to modernity. This model, often aligned with capitalist neoliberalism, has transformed design into a spectacle of development, characterized by high competitive cycles of excitement and disillusionment. Escobar critiques this trajectory, arguing that comparing past and present innovations is futile, as both serve as a kind of societal miraculous "drug" and problem solver.

In my opinion, is important the invitation Escobar does to see, believe and create a design away from the western, centric, neoliberal perspective. How ever, is somehow also romantizing it and not taking into account the negative impacts and 'bad designs'.

Considering the critique, how can we nowadays develop design methodologies, everyday experiences that genuinely embrace pluriversality, fostering diverse ontologies and respecting the autonomy of different cultural practices? How can we avoid the creation of forms of "bad designs" that perpetuate inequality or environmental harm?

How can designers make spaces and objects that go beyond resistance, actively reshaping and countering the dominant economic and political forces?

This also ties into the emotional and affective dimensions of architecture discussed in Design & the Emotional. If design is truly meant to resonate with people on a sensory and emotional level, it cannot be limited to a single cultural framework. Non-Western practices often emphasize different relationships between body, space, and environment - offering alternative models for how we might conceive emotionally meaningful architecture.

This brings us to an important question: Could there be a design studio at ETH that actively engages with architectural practices beyond the Western canon? Exploring such avenues might broaden our understanding of what architecture can be. Should architectural education place more emphasis on developing a truly global perspective? Is that even feasible within current institutional structures? Especially in the context of climate change and social inequality, traditional and often sustainable building practices from various cultures could provide crucial inspiration for the architecture of the future.

Critical Question: In what ways can the design community apply Escobar’s framework to develop practices that are both inclusive of local voices and effective in addressing environmental issues?

He also introduces the concept of ontological design and reminds us of a forgotten, or perhaps never fully admitted, truth about design: that it is born through the intersection of capitalism, functionalism and modernity. This modernity is tied to expert and scientific discourse, which is itself linked to the state.

It’s pessimistic, even sad, to think of our world as a massive design failure. Yet perhaps this failure is necessary. Maybe humans must go through it in order to design their way out.

Placed in historical context, modernity, characterized by inventions and design, has indeed helped us a lot. Functionalist design, tied to practicality and efficiency, has been beneficial in many ways. Still, we often overlook how technology has also contributed to longer and healthier lives.

But even if we recognize the failure, can we really escape it? Or is there no way out, precisely because our entire society is so deeply rooted in capitalism and market-driven technologies?

The inclusion of thinkers like Humberto Maturana and Adolfo Albán highlights that the challenges we face are not just technical or knowledge-based but deeply embedded in the conditions of our existence. This perspective shifts the focus from solving isolated problems to addressing broader, interconnected issues of sustainability, social justice, and collective well-being. It urges designers to take a normative stance—not just asking how to make things work, but how things should be in a world that increasingly demands ethical, political, and ecological responsibility.

As design becomes a means of envisioning alternative futures, this question challenges designers to reconsider their role—not just as creators of products or services, but as active participants in shaping the world those products exist within. It calls for a more inclusive and transformative approach, where design is a catalyst for meaningful social change.

The phrase “design our way out” really stuck with me. It paints a strong picture: maybe the only way forward is to completely rethink how we design—and what we design for. But this makes me wonder: how can designers work for real change, when they’re still stuck inside the same systems they want to change? It’s a tricky situation, and I think facing this tension is one of the biggest challenges for designers today.

To challenge this, we must see design not just as problem-solving, but as a transformative process that questions existing structures. Making design more inclusive means embracing local knowledge, cultural specificity, and participatory practices. As architects, how can we move beyond conventional models to develop approaches that balance functionality with ecological responsibility, cultural sensitivity, and social justice—within, and in spite of, a capitalist system?

One of the most alarming things to me was his definition of our roles as designers: we should at least serve as mediators between ontology and capitalism, or even a voice standing on the side of the marginalized. The choice we made of each contour line, plant species, design material is no longer about design aesthetics—it's about which side of history we choose to stand on.

Writing from a Latin American decolonial perspective, he critiques modern design’s role in sustaining capitalist and colonial systems. He argues for a pluriverse —multiple coexisting realities shaped by diverse cultural and ecological knowledge.

Reading about revaluing ancestral knowledge, I can't help but wonder how much westerners must have lost of their own traditions as well. We can learn a lot from others; but seeing them tap back into what modernity had partly covered there, is also inspiring us to look for what it has covered here.

The text calls on designers not to place themselves above communities, but to work together with them on alternative futures. It is not about “design for”, but about “design with”. A co-creative, democratic process. I find this perspective particularly relevant for education and pedagogical contexts, where it is often about “serving” predetermined systems instead of developing one's own visions.

What remains is the realization that if design actually shapes our existence, then we have an enormous responsibility. Escobar's vision of a pluriverse may sound utopian, but that is precisely where its power lies. It shows that alternatives are possible. For me, this book is not a technical text in the classic sense, but much more.

One question that concerns me after reading it is: How can designers in Western contexts begin to work with pluriversal approaches without engaging in cultural appropriation or appropriating local struggles? How can we succeed in establishing these approaches in education at a technology-oriented institution like ETH? And how can we avoid other approaches to the world appearing merely as exotic “case studies” rather than as equally valid sources of knowledge and creative power?

The solution, argues the text, lies in design for transition, design that aims to change society at large. In order to enable this transition, the new main focus should lie on relational aspects of life. The consequent translation to design would be an emphasis on participatory, non-expert driven practices.

Those practices have to some extent already been implemented into architectural practices. An increasing number of projects invite participatory approaches, “Sondernutzungspläne” as results from inclusive workshops and similar tools. However, as architecture is limited by existing within a larger system of economy, laws and societal norms, architecture itself might not be sufficient to achieve transition by design. Usually, the first transition that needs to happen is in people’s minds and opinions. That makes me wonder how architecture might sensibilize people enough to facilitate a transition on a societal scale?

The text makes comparison between two "realities".

One is the time where you have to wait and be patient to achieve something. It is the reality in which the collaborative and the shared moments are happening unplanned. The design creates a space for them.

The other reality is the one of efficiency. It is where the time goes faster. It doesn't leave room for "distractions". Thus the design doesn't correspond to the need of social rooms, shared spaces.

Today the tension between these two realities can be seen in many contemporary cities and is still to be resolved.

Can Architecture be part of a resistance and nurture community or is it only a tool for developer, the ruling class and repressive regimes?

Under capitalism, design is often driven by profit and efficiency, which reinforces power imbalances that favor corporations and the wealthy. As a result, marginalized communities, the environment, and non-human life are frequently overlooked or deprioritized in the design process.

Therefore Escobar calls for a redesign approach that puts communities at the center, emphasizing sustainability, inclusivity, and social impact rather than profit-driven motives. Capitalism is a very absorbing and fast adapting system that puts pressure on social projects. Can this kind of architecture withstand the capitalist pressure? And Is this enough? And in short it raises the question: Can architecture truly serve as a tool of resistance and community-building without being co-opted by the very systems it seeks to challenge?

Escobar points out, that even participatory approaches can be absorbed into corporate or governmental agendas, ultimately reinforcing the status quo or just appear as performative events without real consequences/further actions. How does an architecture of resistance look like? But how can architects and designers create spaces that actively resist repressive forces rather than becoming instruments of control?

But even good intentions risk being swallowed by the system they aim to change. So it’s not only about what we design, but where we design from, what worldview, what ground of meaning.

How do we distinguish truly transformative design from gestures that keep the same power structures in place?

The text critiques traditional approaches to design rooted in functionalism, rationalism, and industrial efficiency. It argues for a shift toward a different kind of rationality—one that is more in tune with the relational aspects of human life. Design, it suggests, is ontological: the things we design don’t just serve a purpose; they shape how we live, think, and interact with the world.

It raises the question of whether modernist design, often grounded in the dualistic thinking of patriarchal and capitalist systems, can be reimagined to support more relational ways of being, knowing, and doing.

Ultimately, it challenges designers to go beyond simply resisting dominant political and economic systems. Instead, it asks: how can design actively transform these systems by creating spaces and objects that foster new ways of living and relating?

This perspective makes me reflect on the role of architecture today. Even when a project appears purely technical or functional, it inevitably reflects a vision of society and how people should coexist. I believe it is essential to pursue a design approach that is truly responsive to social and cultural contexts, exploring alternatives that resist the standardization imposed by economic systems.

This leads me to question: how can design serve as a tool for advancing social and cultural justice?