Today at work, some of us were discussing the repercussions of bariatric design. Bariatrics is the branch of medicine that deals with treating weight management issues, usually those who are overweight or obese. Because more and more Americans are becoming overweight and obese, everything in the buildings we build (or remodel) have to be designed to hold heavier people--beds that are five feet wide and hold 800 lbs, steel toilets that are two feet wide in order to keep flab from falling over the sides of the can, chairs that are the size of small sofas made with steel frames. We hear about wall-mounted toilets getting ripped off of walls in existing facilities because extra-large people sit down on them. Here's the thing: the Americans With Disabilities Act (ADA) design guidelines require that the centerline of toilets be 18" from the sidewall with grab bars, but you can't locate a bariatric toilet that closely to a wall, and frankly no grab bar will hold someone who is pushing six bills. But, ADA is a federal law--so who wins when I build a patient floor that treats bariatric patients? Reality or federal codes?
I don't mean to pick on the super-obese; this just happens to be a conversation that I had today with a few fellow healthcare architects. But you see my point: everything that happens in the world affects architecture, and the things I do affect how people live their everyday lives. Modern architect Richard Neutra used to say that he could design a house that would cause a couple to get divorced within a month of moving into it. If that sounds far-fetched to you, try getting ready for work every morning while sharing a single sink and vanity in a cramped bathroom with poor air circulation and no humidity control. It'll have you thinking "Divorce, hell--bullets are cheaper."
My job entails looking at my drawings and understanding all the pros and cons of actually building what I just drew. Because I spend my day troubleshooting and understanding what does into a space or a building, it's a skill that I find I can't turn off. Everywhere I look, I know what's in the walls, what's making the water go through the espresso machine, how much that glass window costs, what that stain is on the ceiling, why the flooring is bubbling, and so on. Even sitting on my balcony at night, just resting, I can look into the apartments across the way from us and watch people fumble over poor ergonomics in their kitchens, adjust the furniture in their living rooms, wrestle with computer cords at a desk placed for some ungodly reason in front of a west-facing window. The world is a never-ending barrage of built flotsam and jetsam, put together in endless combinations that make sense in their efficiency as well as their inefficiency.
Being an architect is like being able to see The Matrix. And when you can't just shut it off, it makes you want to drink. Pass the Riesling.
3 comments:
HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!!! Best! Post title! EVAR!
If you feel weird about talking circles around what you're doing at work (to keep the blog pseudonymous), you could just post about things like this post. Little design/architecture-related things that most of us don't think about or notice...but when someone points them out, we nod our heads vigorously because we live with them every day.
You have a camera function on your cell phone, right? That's how I post a lot of stuff these days. I can discreetly snap a photo of something, no matter where I am--okay, so it's mostly kittehs--and then post it to E&P whenever I wish. I know you're tired of sitting in front of the computer at the end of the day, so that might help.
Speaking of (feline) bariatrics: I don't think my front porch is rated for both Pie and Hook. HALP!
Good post. I had the discussion last year with a guy in a city permitting department with regard to ADA toilet rooms. He said that due to the size of our nursing home renovation, we would be required to provide ADA toilet rooms in 25% of the resident rooms. Due to space limitations this would mean essentially turning 25% of the units from doubles into singles. While I understood his and the feds logic, 98% of the residents are bed-bound and use bedpans. The toilets are there just to empty the bedpans.
AS with many federal mandates, rules and regs, there is almost usually some unanticipated results. Is there any way to get the common good and common sense together?
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