A Moratorium on New Construction, the forthcoming book by Charlotte Malterre-Barthes, poses an unsettling question for many architects: What if we stopped building? And, in turn, what ecological and social benefit would such a moratorium deliver? How would it change practice? Malterre-Barthes is a professor at the Swiss Federal Technology Institute of Lausanne (EPFL). She was previously at Harvard GSD, where she taught seminars and studios about building moratoria. Her years of research on the topic culminate in the new book published by Sternberg Press as part of its Critical Practice Series, edited by Nikolaus Hirsch and Markus Miessen, and illustrated by Lara Almarcegui. AN spoke to Malterre-Barthes on Earth Day, ahead of her book’s June release. AN: What would a moratorium on new construction look like? CMB: It wouldn’t look too different from architecture practices that focus on renovation. In terms of how this would impact the everyday, it would mean a shift in the type of work offices take. Instead of doing new construction, most work would be adaptive reuse and renovations, and also potentially undoing the built environment. Part of the work would also be to join the public discussion about what shouldn’t be built. But in terms of immediate shifts in how practice works, I don’t see it as a radical change. In Europe, about 50 percent of the business in architectural practices is already renovations. AN: If architects aren’t making new buildings, what other things can they do? CMB: We will take care of our existing building stock. If we don’t build new, we have to take care of the stuff we already have, right? Our existing stock is immense if you consider it globally. Apart from renovation and adaptive reuse, architects would include maintenance as an architect’s primary task, something Menna Agha already articulated. In many countries, architects have a 10-year responsibility regarding a building they have designed. There are architects who come back every year to check if the building is in its best possible shape, and whether things need to be adjusted, from interior layout to insulation. So maintaining buildings is something we already know how to do. But, in many cases, we cannot charge for anything related to the building’s aftercare or afterlife, and these aspects have yet to be centered, as Daniel Abrahamson wrote. Another thing we’re equipped to do is create images and narratives, which I find really important. Architects can design futures. I would say this is the most interesting part of our work. We’re able to envision futures other than the ones we’re being force-fed that accentuate our current problems. This is why resisting by creating new narratives and different futures is essential. Future- and world-making are skill sets that could be pushed further with a moratorium on new construction. AN: Learning from Indigenous knowledge systems is an important part of this line of thinking. You cite Sufi cosmologies, for instance. CMB: Of course. I learned very late that, in architecture school, I was stripped of entire canons. Architectural education is very Western-centric. This means students are deprived of entire skill sets, of other ways of creating climatic and material solutions. In Europe, I was taught to design with concrete, and in the U.S., everything is balloon framing—material at the service of design and cost-cutting. There’s a real need to learn from other cultures instead of destroying them. AN: How do you reconcile the need to stop building with the pressing need for new housing? CMB: I’ve already had a taste of what opposing new construction as a solution entails on X. I think YIMBY and NIMBY approaches need to be interrogated. Assuming that we can solve the housing crisis simply with new construction is the wrong way to go about this. Research shows that what’s being constructed isn’t benefiting the people who need housing the most. I’m very critical of the assumption that new construction is the only way to house a growing population. I think reassessing what we already have, and property reforms and housing allocation systems, is the way ahead. I’m aware this is not a popular opinion at the moment, but it’s my job to articulate alternatives. Most mortgaged housing in the U.S. is actually somehow publicly owned through debt guarantees, if you think about it. So we would not be that far away from redistributing housing and built space in that sense, if there were a political will to do so. AN: Some architects have called the building moratorium “professional suicide.” Why shouldn’t architects be afraid of the moratorium? CMB: This is a question between short-term and long-term. What should we prioritize? Some say we need to give precedence to our economic survival. I understand that. But there’s a need to shift the design office’s business model as well. This means rethinking how we work, the structure of the office, and what kind of work we want to do.  An example is my current dean at EPFL, Sophie Delhay. Her office only does public housing, which is acquired through competitions. So, of course, she’s doing new construction, but she has positioned her office to do that particular kind of work, at the service of the public. I guess it is also about deciding what you or the office you work for will and won’t do. Prisons, for instance. Many architects have signed pledges not to build these.  This is to say, I think the building moratorium forces architects to ask what position they should take instead of going with the flow. People will say: “If I don’t build, my office will collapse,” and so forth. I believe that if an office survives only thanks to exploitative practices, then maybe it shouldn’t exist in the first place, right? Again, this is an unpopular position. But I think there needs to be a more conscious discussion on how to fix the office. Originally, my chapter “Fix the Office” was called “Kill the Office.” But I am an optimist at heart, and I do believe the office can and should be fixed.  AN: How does your proposal for a building moratorium differ from other proposals today by, say, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change and other entities which call for decarbonization? CMB: At the core of this thinking is “carbon myopia” which I am trying to deconstruct. I think at times the decarbonization discourse is repackaged greenwashing. Life cycle assessments and carbon calculations are just tools. They can be used to serve problematic narratives that suggest, for instance, demolishing and building new is better than upgrading a structure. This is one limit of these calculations.  This carbon myopia is blind to all the things that come with the harm we generate by building new—from demolition to new construction activity. Tools like LCA can’t quantify how community networks are destroyed by demolition and displacement. They can’t quantify use value, or calculate the externalized harm that material extraction generates. Carbon calculation metrics place no value on these externalities. That’s why I’m cautious of these decarbonization narratives, because I doubt that they really can capture the reality and the extent of the damage. A building moratorium goes beyond these sorts of technocratic fixes made with Excel sheets. AN: What do you hope people take away from your book? CMB: First, I hope people don’t fall asleep because there are no images. Jokes aside, I hope it brings to the table these topics that need urgent discussion within architecture and beyond—to stop the damage. I hope it can go beyond the discipline, into the industry, and reach a wider audience. I hope it helps articulate a path forward. Perhaps it is true that we cannot design our way out of this crisis, but we may articulate an emancipated path forward. I also hope it can be a good conversation tool, a shocker to start conversations like, “If we can’t build, what are we going to do?” I believe it can trigger uncomfortable conversations to move forward and act.