With tall buildings poised to overrun the skylines of Israeli cities, little thought is being given to critical design issues. Quite the opposite in fact – a comprehensive reform of the planning system, which is expected to shift power from the planning system to developers, is moving closer to final approval. In this op-ed piece, published in Haaretz, a Jerusalem-based architect and urban planner issues a scathing criticism of the architectural status quo, and a call for greater care in building the structures which will dominate our living environments for decades to come.

By Gerard Heumann

Fed by self-styled experts, public ignorance, manipulative marketing and naked greed, the fashion of high-rise, luxury apartment buildings is rapidly transforming the character of many cities across the country. Part of a nationwide trend of anti-urban, antisocial building projects of every type, these towers accurately reflect today’s Israel, which is concerned less with a good society and more with the good life – or at least with what many consider the good life to be. If architecture can be said to be a faithful reflection of the society it serves, then clearly class and age distinctions are on the increase now, rather than being broken down.

The rich have always sought ways to stand out. Building types symbolize social status. Living high above one’s neighbors, separate and superior, seems to answer their need. But as questions of design are little understood by even the most educated and sophisticated members of the general public, it’s hardly surprising that they often end up paying a great deal for an inferior product. The ignorance about design standards among those outside the architectural profession has naturally adversely affected the quality of construction work in many cases.

The negative impacts of isolated, free-standing residential towers are many and severe. Set back from the street and self-contained, they kill the life of the surrounding neighborhood. The space around or enclosed by high-rises is often a depressing no-man’s land, which in turn heightens security concerns. The buildings’ controlled, guarded entrances deter even invited guests. For their residents, the commute to work is often a matter of taking the elevator to the underground parking garage, driving to the office, returning in the evening to the garage and going back up in the elevator to one’s apartment, with hardly any opportunity for social contact. And even were young couples able to afford these apartments, they would quickly discover the unsuitability of such a setting for raising children.

Large-scale projects incorporating several towers – usually identical, like photocopies of one another – are commonplace today, and have proven especially destructive. The Holyland Park project, in Bayit Vegan, Jerusalem, approved in the face of thousands of objections, dwarfs not only its neighbors but the very hilltop it stands upon.

One argument cited frequently in support of high-rises is that they enable the construction of more residential units on less land. This is a myth. In fact there is no connection between building height and density. Structures of six or seven stories can meet the demands for built-up areas and for apartments just as well as an 18-story tower that requires major setbacks. To give an extreme example: Low-rise, high-density housing that is no more than four stories high, such as the brilliant project designed by architect Louis Sauer at Penn’s Landing in Philadelphia, is a solution that has never been attempted in Israel.

And yet the fact remains: A great many more towers are on their way. If we must have them, is there not a better way to design them, one that would allow their full integration into the existing urban fabric? In terms of the physical environment, one viable option is to combine high and low structures. This would facilitate the creation of a respectful relationship with existing adjacent (low and moderately high) buildings, while creating well-defined, meaningful, public and private open spaces. One successful example of this design strategy is the Lev Ha’ir project in central Tel Aviv, designed by Israel Prize-winning architect Ada Karmi-Melamede. Where several towers are required, each should be designed individually, in response to its unique physical setting and providing accents to an ordered, varied and harmonious architectural composition.

Residential high-rises need not be overbearing, pretentious or repetitive: Their placement should be carefully considered, always within the framework of a comprehensive policy rather than on a piecemeal, site-by-site basis. To preserve a human scale, lower levels – up to tree height – must be treated with sensitivity. Standing out visually carries responsibilities: towers must be of high architectural quality. Needless to say, this is very rarely the case.

But the problem is not just an environmental one. Luxury residential towers clearly segregate rich and poor, young and old, making it impossible for authentic community bonds to be formed. Simply stated, they help destroy social fabric. And it is quite clear that social integration is not among the goals of building developers. Their interests lie mainly in maximum profit in the short term. Social integration demands a full range of housing types, workplaces and shops located near each other, as well as well-placed public buildings – symbols of community identity – and well-defined squares and parks. Market forces cannot be the governing organizer of urban life. Planning and building need enlightened, well-informed governance. This is a critical time.

Gerard Heumann is an architect and town planner in Jerusalem.