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Last year, MACK Books published Architecture from Below, which anthologized writings by the French Brazilian architect, theorist, and painter Sérgio Ferro. (Douglas Spencer reviewed it for AN.) Now, MACK follows with Design and the Building Site and Complementary Essays, the second in the trilogy of books dedicated to Ferro’s scholarship. The following excerpt of the author’s 2023 preface to the English edition, which preserves its British phrasing, captures Ferro’s realization about the working conditions of construction sites in Brasília. The sentiment is likely relatable even today for young architects as they discover how drawings become buildings. Design and the Building Site and Complementary Essays will be released on May 22. If I remember correctly, it was in 1958 or 1959, when Rodrigo and I were second- or third year architecture students at FAUUSP, that my father, the real estate developer Armando Simone Pereira, commissioned us to design two large office buildings and eleven shops in Brasilia, which was then under construction. Of course, we were not adequately prepared for such an undertaking. Fortunately, Oscar Niemeyer and his team, who were responsible for overseeing the construction of the capital, had drawn up a detailed document determining the essential characteristics of all the private sector buildings. We followed these prescriptions to the letter, which saved us from disaster. Nowadays, it is hard to imagine the degree to which the construction of Brasilia inspired enthusiasm and professional pride in the country’s architects. And in the national imagination, the city’s establishment in the supposedly unpopulated hinterland evoked a re-founding of Brazil. Up until that point, the occupation of our immense territory had been reduced to a collection of arborescent communication routes, generally converging upon some river, following it up to the Atlantic Ocean. Through its ports, agricultural or extractive commodities produced by enslaved peoples or their substitutes passed towards the metropolises; goods were exchanged in the metropolises for more elaborate products, which took the opposite route. Our national identity was summed up in a few symbols, such as the anthem or the flag, and this scattering of paths pointing overseas. Brasilia would radically change this situation, or so we believed. It would create a central hub where the internal communication routes could converge, linking together hithertoseparate junctions, stimulating trade and economic progress in the country’s interior. It was as if, for the first time, we were taking care of ourselves. At the nucleus of this centripetal movement, architecture would embody the renaissance. And at the naval of the nucleus, the symbolic mandala of this utopia: the cathedral. Rodrigo and I got caught up in the euphoria. And perhaps more so than our colleagues, because we were taking part in the adventure with ‘our’ designs. The reality was very different — but we did not know that yet. At that time, architects in Brazil were responsible for verifying that the construction was in line with the design. We had already monitored some of our first building sites. But the construction company in charge of them, Osmar Souza e Silva’s CENPLA, specialized in the building sites of modernist architects from the so-called Escola Paulista led by Vilanova Artigas (which we aspired to be a part of, like the pretentious students we were). Osmar was very attentive to his clients and his workers, who formed a supportive and helpful team. He was even more careful with us, because he knew how inexperienced we were. I believe that the CENPLA was particularly important in São Paulo modernism: with its congeniality, it facilitated experimentation, but for the same reason, it deceived novices like us about the reality of other building sites. Consequently, Rodrigo and I travelled to Brasilia several times to check that the constructions followed ‘our’ designs and to resolve any issues. From the very first trip, our little bubble burst. Our building sites, like all the others in the future capital, bore no relation to Osmar’s. They were more like a branch of hell. A huge, muddy wasteland, in which a few cranes, pile drivers, tractors, and excavators dotted the mound of scaffolding occupied by thousands of skinny, seemingly exhausted wretches, who were nevertheless driven on by the shouts of master builders and foremen, in turn pressured by the imminence of the fateful inauguration date. Surrounding or huddled underneath the marquees of buildings under construction, entire families, equally skeletal and ragged, were waiting for some accident or death to open up a vacancy. In contact only with the master builders, and under close surveillance so we would not speak to the workers, we were not allowed to see what comrades who had worked on these sites later told us in prison: suicide abounded; escape was known to be futile in the unpopulated surroundings with no viable roads; fatal accidents were often caused by weakness due to chronic diarrhoea, brought on by rotten food that came from far away; outright theft took place in the calculation of wages and expenses in the contractor’s grocery store; camps were surrounded by law enforcement. I repeat this anecdote yet again not to invoke the benevolence of potential readers, but rather to point out the conditions that, in my opinion, allowed two students (Flávio Império joined us a little later) still in their professional infancy to quickly adopt positions that were contrary to the usual stance of architects. As the project was more Oscar Niemeyer’s than it was our own, we did not have the same emotional attachment that is understandably engendered between real authors and their designs. We had not yet been imbued with the charm and aura of the métier. And the only building sites we had visited thus far, Osmar’s, were incomparable to those we discovered in Brasilia. In short, our youthfulness and unpreparedness up against an unbearable situation made us react almost immediately to the profession’s satisfied doxa. Unprepared and young perhaps, but already with Marx by our side. Rodrigo and I joined the student cell of the Brazilian Communist Party during our first year at university. In itself, this did not help us much: the Party’s Marxism, revised in the interests of the USSR, was pitiful. Even high-level leaders rarely went beyond the first chapter of Capital. But at the end of the 1950s, the effervescence of the years to come was already nascent:  […] this extraordinary revival […] the rediscovery of Marxism and the great dialectical texts and traditions in the 1960s: an excitement that identifies a forgotten or repressed moment of the past as the new and subversive, and learns the dialectical grammar of a Hegel or an Adorno, a Marx or a Lukács, like a foreign language that has resources unavailable in our own. And what is more: the Chinese and Cuban revolutions, the war in Vietnam, guerrilla warfare of all kinds, national liberation movements, and a rare libertarian disposition in contemporary history, totally averse to fanaticism and respect for ideological apparatuses of (any) state or institution. Going against the grain was almost the norm. We were of course no more than contemporaries of our time. We were soon able to position ourselves from chapters 13, 14, and 15 of Capital, but only because we could constantly cross-reference Marx with our observations from well-contrasted building sites and do our own experimenting. As soon as we identified construction as manufacture, for example, thanks to the willingness and even encouragement of two friends and clients, Boris Fausto and Bernardo Issler, I was able to test both types of manufacture — organic and heterogeneous — on similar-sized projects taking place simultaneously, in order to find out which would be most convenient for the situation in Brazil, particularly in São Paulo. Despite the scientific shortcomings of these tests, they sufficed for us to select organic manufacture. Arquitetura Nova had defined its line of practice, studies, and research. There were other sources that were central to our theory and practice. Flávio Império was one of the founders of the Teatro de Arena, undoubtedly the vanguard of popular, militant theatre in Brazil. He won practically every set design award. He brought us his marvelous findings in spatial condensation and malleability, and in the creative diversion of techniques and material—appropriate devices for an underdeveloped country. This is what helped us pave the way to reformulating the reigning design paradigms.  We had to do what Flávio had done in the theatre: thoroughly rethink how to be an architect. Upend the perspective. The way we were taught was to start from a desired result; then others would take care of getting there, no matter how. We, on the other hand, set out to go down to the building site and accompany those carrying out the labor itself, those who actually build, the formally subsumed workers in manufacture who are increasingly deprived of the knowledge and know-how presupposed by this kind of subsumption. We should have been fostering the reconstitution of this knowledge and know-how—not so as to fulfil this assumption, but in order to reinvigorate the other side of this assumption according to Marx: the historical rebellion of the manufacture worker, especially the construction worker. We had to rekindle the demand that fueled this rebellion: total self-determination, and not just that of the manual operation as such. Our aim was above all political and ethical. Aesthetics only mattered by way of what it included—ethics. Instead of estética, we wrote est ética [this is ethics]. We wanted to make building sites into nests for the return of revolutionary syndicalism, which we ourselves had yet to discover. Sérgio Ferro, born in Brazil in 1938, studied architecture at FAUUSP, São Paulo. In the 1960s, he joined the Brazilian communist party and started, along with Rodrigo Lefevre and Flávio Império, the collective known as Arquitetura Nova. After being arrested by the military dictatorship that took power in Brazil in 1964, he moved to France as an exile. As a painter and a professor at the École Nationale Supérieure d’Architecture de Grenoble, where he founded the Dessin/Chantier laboratory, he engaged in extensive research which resulted in several publications, exhibitions, and awards in Brazil and in France, including the title of Chevalier des Arts et des Lettres in 1992. Following his retirement from teaching, Ferro continues to research, write, and paint.

In technical fields like information technology, definitions are fundamental. They are the building blocks for constructing useful applications and systems. Yet, despite this, it’s easy to assume a term’s definition and wield it confidently before discovering its true meaning. The two closely related cases that stand out to me are “security” and “privacy.” I say this with full awareness that, in my many writings on information security, I never adequately distinguished these two concepts. It was only after observing enough conflation of these terms that I resolved to examine my own casual treatment of them. So, with the aim of solidifying my own understanding, let’s properly differentiate “information security” and “information privacy.” Security vs. Privacy: Definitions That Matter In the context of information technology, what exactly are security and privacy? Security is the property of denying unauthorized parties from accessing or altering your data. Privacy is the property of preventing the observation of your activities by any third parties to whom you do not expressly consent to observe those activities. As you can see, these principles are related, which is one reason why they’re commonly interchanged. This distinction becomes comprehensible with examples. Let’s start with an instance where security applies, but privacy does not. Spotify uses digital rights management (DRM) software to keep its media secure but not private. DRM is a whole topic of its own, but it essentially uses cryptography to enforce copyright. In Spotify’s case, it’s what constitutes streaming rather than just downloading: the song’s file is present on your device (at least temporarily) just as if you’d downloaded it, but Spotify’s DRM cryptography prevents you from opening the file without the Spotify application. The data on Spotify (audio files) are secure because only users of the application can stream audio, and streamed content can’t be retained, opened, or transmitted to non-users. However, Spotify’s data is not private because nearly anyone with an email address can be a user. Thus, in practice, the company cannot control who exactly can access its data. A more complex example of security without privacy is social media. When you sign up for a social media platform, you accept an end-user license agreement (EULA) authorizing the platform to share your data with its partners and affiliates. Your data stored with “authorized parties” on servers controlled by the platform and its affiliates would be considered secure, provided all these entities successfully defend your data against theft by unauthorized parties. In other words, if everyone who is allowed (by agreement) to have your data encrypts it in transit and at rest, insulates and segments their networks, etc., then your data is secure no matter how many affiliates receive it. In practice, the more parties that have your data, the more likely it is that any one of them is breached, but in theory, they could all defend your data. On the other hand, any data you fork over to the social network is not private because you can’t control who uses your data and how. As soon as your data lands on the platform’s servers, you can’t restrict what they do with it, including sharing your data with other entities, which you also can’t control. Both examples illustrate security without privacy. That’s because privacy entails security, but not the reverse. All squares are rectangles, but not all rectangles are squares. If you have privacy, meaning you can completely enforce how any party uses your data (or doesn’t), it is secure by definition because only authorized parties can access your data. Mobile Devices: Secure but Not Private Casually mixing security and privacy can lead people to misunderstand the information security properties that apply to their data in any given scenario. By reevaluating for ourselves whether a given technology affords us security and privacy, we can have a more accurate understanding of how accessible our data really is. One significant misconception I’ve noticed concerns mobile devices. I get the impression that the digital privacy content sphere regards mobile devices as not secure because they aren’t private. But while mobile is designed not to be private, it is specifically designed to be secure. Why is that? Because the value of data is in keeping it in your hands and out of your competitor’s. If you collect data but anyone else can grab your copy, you are not only at no advantage but also at a disadvantage since you’re the only party that spent time and money to collect it from the source. With modest scrutiny, we’ll find that every element of a mobile OS that might be marketed as a privacy feature is, in fact, strictly a security feature. Cybersecurity professionals have hailed application permissions as a major stride in privacy. But whom are they designed to help? These menus apply to applications that request access to certain hardware, from microphones and cameras to flash memory storage and wireless radios. This access restriction feature serves the OS developer by letting users lock out as much of their competition as possible from taking their data. The mobile OS developer controls the OS with un-auditable compiled code. For all you know, permission controls on all the OS’s native apps could be ignored. However, even if we assume that the OS developer doesn’t thwart your restrictions on their own apps, the first-party apps still enjoy pride of place. There are more of them; they are preinstalled on your device, facilitate core mobile device features, require more permissions, and often lose core functions when those permissions are denied. Mobile OSes also sandbox every application, forcing each to run in an isolated software environment, oblivious to other applications and the underlying operating system. This, too, benefits the OS vendor. Like the app permission settings, this functionality makes it harder for third parties to grab the same data the OS effortlessly ingests. The OS relies on its own background processes to obtain the most valuable data and walls off every other app from those processes. Mobile Security Isn’t Designed With You in Mind The most powerful mobile security control is the denial of root privileges to all applications and users (besides, again, the OS itself). While it goes a long way toward keeping the user’s data safe, it is just as effective at subjecting everything and everyone using the device to the dictates of the OS. The security advantage is undeniable: if your user account can’t use root, then any malware that compromises it can’t either. By the same token, because you don’t have complete control over the OS, you are unable to reconfigure your device for privacy from the OS vendor. I’m not disparaging any of these security controls. All of them reinforce the protection of your data. I’m saying that they are not done primarily for the user’s benefit; that is secondary. Those of you familiar with my work might see the scroll bar near the bottom of this page and wonder why I haven’t mentioned Linux yet. The answer is that desktop operating systems, my preferred kind of Linux OS, benefit from their own examination. In a follow-up to this piece, I will discuss the paradox of desktop security and privacy. Please stay tuned.

Published June 2, 2025 10:00am EDT close 'CyberGuy' warns of cyberscams costing Americans billions a year Tech expert Kurt Knutsson joins "Fox & Friends" to warn of new cyberscams and give tips on how to avoid them. NEWYou can now listen to Fox News articles! Given the number of phishing scams we have all faced over the past decade, most of us have developed a basic skill to spot and avoid obvious phishing emails or SMS messages. Cybercriminals are aware of this, and they have evolved their tactics by shifting to more complex and convincing schemes designed to bypass skepticism and lure victims.Their goal remains the same: to trick you into handing over sensitive information, especially credit card data. One of the latest examples is the rise in subscription scam campaigns. Scammers are creating incredibly convincing websites selling everything from shoes and clothes to electronics, tricking people into signing up for monthly subscriptions and willingly providing their credit card information. Facebook is being used as the primary platform to promote these new and sophisticated scams. A woman shopping online (Kurt "CyberGuy" Knutsson)What you need to knowBitdefender researchers have uncovered a massive and highly coordinated subscription scam campaign involving more than 200 active websites designed to look like real online stores. These sites, often promoted through Facebook ads, sell everything from clothes and electronics to beauty products, but the real goal is to trick users into signing up for recurring payments, often without realizing it.One of the most common lures is the "mystery box" scam, where you are promised a surprise package at a bargain price. These offers are made to look fun and harmless, but behind the scenes you are giving away personal and credit card information while unknowingly agreeing to hidden subscription terms, often written in tiny fine print.The scam doesn’t stop there. Once you’re convinced and reach the checkout page, scammers often layer in a second scam, like loyalty cards or VIP memberships that further lock you into payments. It’s all designed to confuse you, overwhelm you with supposed perks and make the scam feel like a good deal.Researchers found that many of these websites share a single Cyprus address, possibly tied to offshore entities linked to the Paradise Papers. Despite being spread across different categories and brand names, the sites often use the same layouts, AI agents and payment structures, all pointing to a centralized fraud network.Scammers frequently rotate the brands they impersonate and have started moving beyond mystery boxes, now peddling low-quality products, counterfeit goods, fake investment schemes, dubious supplements and more. To avoid automatic detection, they employ several tactics. These include running multiple versions of an ad, with only one of which is actually malicious while the others display harmless product images, uploading ad images from platforms like Google Drive so they can be swapped out later and cropping visuals to alter recognizable patterns. Listing fake products (Bitdefender) (Kurt "CyberGuy" Knutsson)The scam is expandingWhat started with simple "mystery box" scams has grown into a sprawling, coordinated campaign. These scams now feature fake surveys, tiered "VIP" memberships and deceptive credit systems that make the purchase process intentionally confusing. Users are promised deep discounts or access to exclusive deals, but in reality they’re just being locked into recurring payments.Many of the scam websites trace back to the same physical address in Cyprus, pointing to what appears to be a centralized operation. Researchers also found links to entities mentioned in the Paradise Papers, suggesting these fraudsters are hiding behind offshore infrastructure.And it’s not just mystery boxes anymore. The same scam format is being used to sell low-quality goods, fake supplements and even bogus investment opportunities. With high-quality site design, aggressive advertising and increasingly sophisticated tactics, subscription scams are becoming the new face of online fraud. A person shopping online (Kurt "CyberGuy" Knutsson)10 proactive measures to take to protect your dataEven as scammers become more sophisticated, there are practical steps you can take right now to protect your personal and financial information from subscription fraud and other online threats. Here are ten proactive measures to help keep your data safe:1) Always read the fine print: One of the simplest yet most effective ways to protect yourself from subscription scams is to slow down and read the fine print, especially on checkout pages. Scammers often hide recurring payment terms in small or lightly colored text that’s easy to miss. What seems like a one-time purchase could actually sign you up for a biweekly or monthly charge. Taking just a moment to scan for hidden terms before hitting "Pay" can help you avoid weeks of silent billing.2) Avoid mystery box or VIP-style deals: These offers often prey on curiosity and the promise of surprise or luxury for a low fee. In reality, the "mystery" is the trap: you might receive nothing or a low-quality item while being unknowingly enrolled in a recurring subscription. Scammers use the illusion of exclusivity or urgency to pressure quick decisions.3) Don’t trust ads blindly on social media: Facebook, Instagram and other platforms are a hotbed for these scams, with criminals running paid ads that mimic well-known brands or influencers. These ads often link to professional-looking but fake storefronts. If you’re interested in a deal you see online, don’t click through immediately. Instead, look up the brand or offer in a separate tab and check if it exists outside social media.4) Investigate before you buy: Before purchasing from any unfamiliar site, take a few quick steps to verify its legitimacy. Search the brand's name alongside words like "scam" or "reviews" to see what others have experienced. Look up the company's physical address and check if it actually exists using tools like Google Maps. Make sure the website uses HTTPS, review the site's contact information and cross-check reviews on trusted third-party sites like the Better Business Bureau or Consumer Reports.5) Use strong antivirus software: Adding a strong antivirus program to your devices can provide an extra layer of defense against fraudulent websites and phishing attempts. Strong antivirus software warns you about suspicious links, blocks malicious ads and scans downloads for malware. Get my picks for the best 2025 antivirus protection winners for your Windows, Mac, Android and iOS devices.6) Invest in personal data removal services: Scammers often rely on leaked or publicly available personal information to target victims with convincing subscription scams. Investing in a personal data removal service can help minimize your digital footprint by removing your information from data broker databases and reducing the chances of being targeted in future campaigns. Regularly monitoring and cleaning up your online presence makes it harder for fraudsters to exploit your data for financial gain. Check out my top picks for data removal services here.Get a free scan to find out if your personal information is already out on the web.7) Be cautious with payment methods: Use secure payment options like credit cards, which often offer better fraud protection than wire transfers, gift cards or cryptocurrency.8) Limit personal information shared on social media: Scammers often gather details from public profiles to craft convincing scams. Review your privacy settings and only share necessary information.9) Use strong, unique passwords and enable multifactor authentication: Create strong, unique passwords for each of your online accounts, especially those tied to your finances or shopping. Enable multifactor authentication wherever possible, as this adds an extra layer of security and makes it harder for scammers to access your accounts, even if your password is compromised. Also, consider using a password manager to generate and store complex passwords. Get more details about my best expert-reviewed password managers of 2025 here.10) Keep your devices and software updated: Regularly update your operating system, browsers and apps. Security updates often patch vulnerabilities that scammers exploit to gain access to your information or install malicious software.Kurt’s key takeawayWhile the rise of subscription scams and deceptive ads is concerning, it’s especially troubling that platforms like Facebook continue to allow these fraudulent ads to run unchecked. Facebook has repeatedly failed to adequately vet or prevent these malicious campaigns from reaching vulnerable individuals. The platform’s ad approval system should be more proactive in spotting and blocking ads promoting scams, particularly those that impersonate well-known brands or content creators. How do you feel about Facebook’s role in allowing scam ads to circulate? Let us know by writing us atCyberguy.com/Contact.For more of my tech tips and security alerts, subscribe to my free CyberGuy Report Newsletter by heading to Cyberguy.com/Newsletter.Follow Kurt on his social channels:Answers to the most-asked CyberGuy questions:New from Kurt:Copyright 2025 CyberGuy.com. All rights reserved. Kurt "CyberGuy" Knutsson is an award-winning tech journalist who has a deep love of technology, gear and gadgets that make life better with his contributions for Fox News & FOX Business beginning mornings on "FOX & Friends." Got a tech question? Get Kurt’s free CyberGuy Newsletter, share your voice, a story idea or comment at CyberGuy.com.

The shoehorning of AI into everything has programmers at Amazon feeling less like the tedious parts of their jobs are being smoothly automated, and more like their work is beginning to resemble the drudgery of toiling away in one of the e-commerce giant's vast warehouses.That's the bleak picture painted in new reporting from the New York Times, in which Amazon leadership — as is the case at so many other companies — is convinced that AI will marvelously jack up productivity. Tasked with conjuring the tech's mystic properties, of course, are our beleaguered keyboard-clackers.Today, there's no shortage of coding AI assistants to choose from. Google and Meta are making heavy use of them, as is Microsoft. Satya Nadella, CEO of the Redmond giant, estimates that as much as 30 percent of the company's code is now written with AI. If Amazon's to keep up with the competition, it needs to follow suit. CEO Andy Jassy echoed this in a recent letter to shareholders, cited by the NYT, emphasizing the need to give customers what they want as "quickly as possible," before upholding programming as a field in which AI would "change the norms."And that it has — though this is less due to the merits of AI and more the result of the over-eager opportunism of the company's management. Three Amazon engineers told the NYT that their bosses have increasingly pushed them to use AI in their work over the past year. And with that came increased output goals and even tighter deadlines. One engineer said that his team was reduced to roughly half the size it was last year — but it was still expected to produce the same amount of code by using AI.In short, new automating technology is being used to justify placing increased demands at their jobs."Things look like a speed-up for knowledge workers," Lawrence Katz, a labor economist at Harvard University, told the NYT, citing ongoing research. "There is a sense that the employer can pile on more stuff."Adopting AI was ostensibly optional for the Amazon programmers, but the choice was all but made for them. One engineer told the newspaper that they're now expected to finish building new website features in just a few days, whereas before they had several weeks. This ludicrous ramp up is only made possible by using AI to automate some of the coding, and comes at the expense of quality: there's less time for consulting with colleagues to get feedback and bounce ideas around.Above all, AI is sapping all the joy out of their profession. AI-amalgamated code requires extensive double checking — a prominent critique that can't be ignored here and is one of the main reasons skeptics question whether these programming assistants actually produce gains in efficiency. And when you're reduced to proofreading a machine, there's little room for creativity, and an even more diminished sense of control."It's more fun to write code than to read code," Simon Willison, a programmer and blogger who's both an enthusiast of AI and a frequent critic of the tech, told the NYT, playing devil's advocate. "If you're told you have to do a code review, it's never a fun part of the job. When you're working with these tools, it's most of the job."Amazon, for its part, maintains that it conducts regular reviews to ensure that its teams are adequately staffed. "We'll continue to adapt how we incorporate Gen AI into our processes," an Amazon spokesman told the NYT.More on AI: AI Is Replacing Women's Jobs SpecificallyShare This Article

The housing crisis in Canada’s North, which has particularly affected the majority Indigenous population in northern communities, has been of ongoing concern to firms such as Taylor Architecture Group (TAG). Formerly known as Pin/Taylor, the firm was established in Yellowknife in 1983. TAG’s Principal, Simon Taylor, says that despite recent political gains for First Nations, “by and large, life is not improving up here.” Taylor and his colleagues have designed many different types of housing across the North. But the problems exceed the normal scope of architectural practice. TAG’s Manager of Research and Development, Kristel Derkowski, says, “We can design the units well, but it doesn’t solve many of the underlying problems.” To respond, she says, “we’ve backed up the process to look at the root causes more.” As a result, “the design challenges are informed by much broader systemic research.”  We spoke to Derkowski about her research, and the work that Taylor Architecture Group is doing to act on it. Here’s what she has to say. Inadequate housing from the start The Northwest Territories is about 51% Indigenous. Most non-Indigenous people are concentrated in the capital city of Yellowknife. Outside of Yellowknife, the territory is very much majority Indigenous.  The federal government got involved in delivering housing to the far North in 1959. There were problems with this program right from the beginning. One issue was that when the houses were first delivered, they were designed and fabricated down south, and they were completely inadequate for the climate. The houses from that initial program were called “Matchbox houses” because they were so small. These early stages of housing delivery helped establish the precedent that a lower standard of housing was acceptable for northern Indigenous residents compared to Euro-Canadian residents elsewhere. In many cases, that double-standard persists to this day. The houses were also inappropriately designed for northern cultures. It’s been said in the research that the way that these houses were delivered to northern settlements was a significant factor in people being divorced from their traditional lifestyles, their traditional hierarchies, the way that they understood home. It was imposing a Euro-Canadian model on Indigenous communities and their ways of life.  Part of what the federal government was trying to do was to impose a cash economy and stimulate a market. They were delivering houses and asking for rent. But there weren’t a lot of opportunities to earn cash. This housing was delivered around the sites of former fur trading posts—but the fur trade had collapsed by 1930. There weren’t a lot of jobs. There wasn’t a lot of wage-based employment. And yet, rental payments were being collected in cash, and the rental payments increased significantly over the span of a couple decades.  The imposition of a cash economy created problems culturally. It’s been said that public housing delivery, in combination with other social policies, served to introduce the concept of poverty in the far North, where it hadn’t existed before. These policies created a situation where Indigenous northerners couldn’t afford to be adequately housed, because housing demanded cash, and cash wasn’t always available. That’s a big theme that continues to persist today. Most of the territory’s communities remain “non-market”: there is no housing market. There are different kinds of economies in the North—and not all of them revolve wholly around cash. And yet government policies do. The governments’ ideas about housing do, too. So there’s a conflict there.  The federal exit from social housing After 1969, the federal government devolved housing to the territorial government. The Government of Northwest Territories created the Northwest Territories Housing Corporation. By 1974, the housing corporation took over all the stock of federal housing and started to administer it, in addition to building their own. The housing corporation was rapidly building new housing stock from 1975 up until the mid-1990s. But beginning in the early 1990s, the federal government terminated federal spending on new social housing across the whole country. A couple of years after that, they also decided to allow operational agreements with social housing providers to expire. It didn’t happen that quickly—and maybe not everybody noticed, because it wasn’t a drastic change where all operational funding disappeared immediately. But at that time, the federal government was in 25- to 50-year operational agreements with various housing providers across the country. After 1995, these long-term operating agreements were no longer being renewed—not just in the North, but everywhere in Canada.  With the housing corporation up here, that change started in 1996, and we have until 2038 before the federal contribution of operational funding reaches zero. As a result, beginning in 1996, the number of units owned by the NWT Housing Corporation plateaued. There was a little bump in housing stock after that—another 200 units or so in the early 2000s. But basically, the Northwest Territories was stuck for 25 years, from 1996 to 2021, with the same number of public housing units. In 1990, there was a report on housing in the NWT that was funded by the Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation (CMHC). That report noted that housing was already in a crisis state. At that time, in 1990, researchers said it would take 30 more years to meet existing housing need, if housing production continued at the current rate. The other problem is that houses were so inadequately constructed to begin with, that they generally needed replacement after 15 years. So housing in the Northwest Territories already had serious problems in 1990. Then in 1996, the housing corporation stopped building more. So if you compare the total number of social housing units with the total need for subsidized housing in the territory, you can see a severely widening gap in recent decades. We’ve seen a serious escalation in housing need. The Northwest Territories has a very, very small tax base, and it’s extremely expensive to provide services here. Most of our funding for public services comes from the federal government. The NWT on its own does not have a lot of buying power. So ever since the federal government stopped providing operational funding for housing, the territorial government has been hard-pressed to replace that funding with its own internal resources. I should probably note that this wasn’t only a problem for the Northwest Territories. Across Canada, we have seen mass homelessness visibly emerge since the ’90s. This is related, at least in part, to the federal government’s decisions to terminate funding for social housing at that time. Today’s housing crisis Getting to present-day conditions in the NWT, we now have some “market” communities and some “non-market” communities. There are 33 communities total in the NWT, and at least 27 of these don’t have a housing market: there’s no private rental market and there’s no resale market. This relates back to the conflict I mentioned before: the cash economy did not entirely take root. In simple terms, there isn’t enough local employment or income opportunity for a housing market—in conventional terms—to work.  Yellowknife is an outlier in the territory. Economic opportunity is concentrated in the capital city. We also have five other “market” communities that are regional centres for the territorial government, where more employment and economic activity take place. Across the non-market communities, on average, the rate of unsuitable or inadequate housing is about five times what it is elsewhere in Canada. Rates of unemployment are about five times what they are in Yellowknife. On top of this, the communities with the highest concentration of Indigenous residents also have the highest rates of unsuitable or inadequate housing, and also have the lowest income opportunity. These statistics clearly show that the inequalities in the territory are highly racialized.  Given the situation in non-market communities, there is a severe affordability crisis in terms of the cost to deliver housing. It’s very, very expensive to build housing here. A single detached home costs over a million dollars to build in a place like Fort Good Hope (Rádeyı̨lı̨kóé). We’re talking about a very modest three-bedroom house, smaller than what you’d typically build in the South. The million-dollar price tag on each house is a serious issue. Meanwhile, in a non-market community, the potential resale value is extremely low. So there’s a massive gap between the cost of construction and the value of the home once built—and that’s why you have no housing market. It means that private development is impossible. That’s why, until recently, only the federal and territorial governments have been building new homes in non-market communities. It’s so expensive to do, and as soon as the house is built, its value plummets.  The costs of living are also very high. According to the NWT Bureau of Statistics, the estimated living costs for an individual in Fort Good Hope are about 1.8 times what it costs to live in Edmonton. Then when it comes to housing specifically, there are further issues with operations and maintenance. The NWT is not tied into the North American hydro grid, and in most communities, electricity is produced by a diesel generator. This is extremely expensive. Everything needs to be shipped in, including fuel. So costs for heating fuel are high as well, as are the heating loads. Then, maintenance and repairs can be very difficult, and of course, very costly. If you need any specialized parts or specialized labour, you are flying those parts and those people in from down South. So to take on the costs of homeownership, on top of the costs of living—in a place where income opportunity is limited to begin with—this is extremely challenging. And from a statistical or systemic perspective, this is simply not in reach for most community members. In 2021, the NWT Housing Corporation underwent a strategic renewal and became Housing Northwest Territories. Their mandate went into a kind of flux. They started to pivot from being the primary landlord in the territory towards being a partner to other third-party housing providers, which might be Indigenous governments, community housing providers, nonprofits, municipalities. But those other organisations, in most cases, aren’t equipped or haven’t stepped forward to take on social housing. Even though the federal government is releasing capital funding for affordable housing again, northern communities can’t always capitalize on that, because the source of funding for operations remains in question. Housing in non-market communities essentially needs to be subsidized—not just in terms of construction, but also in terms of operations. But that operational funding is no longer available. I can’t stress enough how critical this issue is for the North. Fort Good Hope and “one thing that (kind of) worked” I’ll talk a bit about Fort Good Hope. I don’t want to be speaking on behalf of the community here, but I will share a bit about the realities on the ground, as a way of putting things into context.  Fort Good Hope, or Rádeyı̨lı̨kóé, is on the Mackenzie River, close to the Arctic Circle. There’s a winter road that’s open at best from January until March—the window is getting narrower because of climate change. There were also barges running each summer for material transportation, but those have been cancelled for the past two years because of droughts linked to climate change. Aside from that, it’s a fly-in community. It’s very remote. It has about 500-600 people. According to census data, less than half of those people live in what’s considered acceptable housing.  The biggest problem is housing adequacy. That’s CMHC’s term for housing in need of major repairs. This applies to about 36% of households in Fort Good Hope. In terms of ownership, almost 40% of the community’s housing stock is managed by Housing NWT. That’s a combination of public housing units and market housing units—which are for professionals like teachers and nurses. There’s also a pretty high percentage of owner-occupied units—about 46%.  The story told by the community is that when public housing arrived in the 1960s, the people were living in owner-built log homes. Federal agents arrived and they considered some of those homes to be inadequate or unacceptable, and they bulldozed those homes, then replaced some of them—but maybe not all—with public housing units. Then residents had no choice but to rent from the people who took their homes away. This was not a good way to start up a public housing system. The state of housing in Fort Good Hope Then there was an issue with the rental rates, which drastically increased over time. During a presentation to a government committee in the ’80s, a community member explained that they had initially accepted a place in public housing for a rental fee of $2 a month in 1971. By 1984, the same community member was expected to pay $267 a month. That might not sound like much in today’s terms, but it was roughly a 13,000% increase for that same tenant—and it’s not like they had any other housing options to choose from. So by that point, they’re stuck with paying whatever is asked.  On top of that, the housing units were poorly built and rapidly deteriorated. One description from that era said the walls were four inches thick, with windows oriented north, and water tanks that froze in the winter and fell through the floor. The single heating source was right next to the only door—residents were concerned about the fire hazard that obviously created. Ultimately the community said: “We don’t actually want any more public housing units. We want to go back to homeownership, which was what we had before.”  So Fort Good Hope was a leader in housing at that time and continues to be to this day. The community approached the territorial government and made a proposal: “Give us the block funding for home construction, we’ll administer it ourselves, we’ll help people build houses, and they can keep them.” That actually worked really well. That was the start of the Homeownership Assistance Program (HAP) that ran for about ten years, beginning in 1982. The program expanded across the whole territory after it was piloted in Fort Good Hope. The HAP is still spoken about and written about as the one thing that kind of worked.  Self-built log cabins remain from Fort Good Hope’s 1980s Homeownership Program (HAP). Funding was cost-shared between the federal and territorial governments. Through the program, material packages were purchased for clients who were deemed eligible. The client would then contribute their own sweat equity in the form of hauling logs and putting in time on site. They had two years to finish building the house. Then, as long as they lived in that home for five more years, the loan would be forgiven, and they would continue owning the house with no ongoing loan payments. In some cases, there were no mechanical systems provided as part of this package, but the residents would add to the house over the years. A lot of these units are still standing and still lived in today. Many of them are comparatively well-maintained in contrast with other types of housing—for example, public housing units. It’s also worth noting that the one-time cost of the materials package was—from the government’s perspective—only a fraction of the cost to build and maintain a public housing unit over its lifespan. At the time, it cost about $50,000 to $80,000 to build a HAP home, whereas the lifetime cost of a public housing unit is in the order of $2,000,000. This program was considered very successful in many places, especially in Fort Good Hope. It created about 40% of their local housing stock at that time, which went from about 100 units to about 140. It’s a small community, so that’s quite significant.  What were the successful principles? The community-based decision-making power to allocate the funding. The sweat equity component, which brought homeownership within the range of being attainable for people—because there wasn’t cash needing to be transferred, when the cash wasn’t available. Local materials—they harvested the logs from the land, and the fact that residents could maintain the homes themselves. The Fort Good Hope Construction Centre. Rendering by Taylor Architecture Group The Fort Good Hope Construction Centre The HAP ended the same year that the federal government terminated new spending on social housing. By the late 1990s, the creation of new public housing stock or new homeownership units had gone down to negligible levels. But more recently, things started to change. The federal government started to release money to build affordable housing. Simultaneously, Indigenous governments are working towards Self-Government and settling their Land Claims. Federal funds have started to flow directly to Indigenous groups. Given these changes, the landscape of Northern housing has started to evolve. In 2016, Fort Good Hope created the K’asho Got’ine Housing Society, based on the precedent of the 1980s Fort Good Hope Housing Society. They said: “We did this before, maybe we can do it again.” The community incorporated a non-profit and came up with a five-year plan to meet housing need in their community. One thing the community did right away was start up a crew to deliver housing maintenance and repairs. This is being run by Ne’Rahten Developments Ltd., which is the business arm of Yamoga Land Corporation (the local Indigenous Government). Over the span of a few years, they built up a crew of skilled workers. Then Ne’Rahten started thinking, “Why can’t we do more? Why can’t we build our own housing?” They identified a need for a space where people could work year-round, and first get training, then employment, in a stable all-season environment. This was the initial vision for the Fort Good Hope Construction Centre, and this is where TAG got involved. We had some seed funding through the CMHC Housing Supply Challenge when we partnered with Fort Good Hope. We worked with the community for over a year to get the capital funding lined up for the project. This process required us to take on a different role than the one you typically would as an architect. It wasn’t just schematic-design-to-construction-administration. One thing we did pretty early on was a housing design workshop that was open to the whole community, to start understanding what type of housing people would really want to see. Another piece was a lot of outreach and advocacy to build up support for the project and partnerships—for example, with Housing Northwest Territories and Aurora College. We also reached out to our federal MP, the NWT Legislative Assembly and different MLAs, and we talked to a lot of different people about the link between employment and housing. The idea was that the Fort Good Hope Construction Centre would be a demonstration project. Ultimately, funding did come through for the project—from both CMHC and National Indigenous Housing Collaborative Inc. The facility itself will not be architecturally spectacular. It’s basically a big shed where you could build a modular house. But the idea is that the construction of those houses is combined with training, and it creates year-round indoor jobs. It intends to combat the short construction seasons, and the fact that people would otherwise be laid off between projects—which makes it very hard to progress with your training or your career. At the same time, the Construction Centre will build up a skilled labour force that otherwise wouldn’t exist—because when there’s no work, skilled people tend to leave the community. And, importantly, the idea is to keep capital funding in the community. So when there’s a new arena that needs to get built, when there’s a new school that needs to get built, you have a crew of people who are ready to take that on. Rather than flying in skilled labourers, you actually have the community doing it themselves. It’s working towards self-determination in housing too, because if those modular housing units are being built in the community, by community members, then eventually they’re taking over design decisions and decisions about maintenance—in a way that hasn’t really happened for decades. Transitional homeownership My research also looked at a transitional homeownership model that adapts some of the successful principles of the 1980s HAP. Right now, in non-market communities, there are serious gaps in the housing continuum—that is, the different types of housing options available to people. For the most part, you have public housing, and you have homelessness—mostly in the form of hidden homelessness, where people are sleeping on the couches of relatives. Then, in some cases, you have inherited homeownership—where people got homes through the HAP or some other government program. But for the most part, not a lot of people in non-market communities are actually moving into homeownership anymore. I asked the local housing manager in Fort Good Hope: “When’s the last time someone built a house in the community?” She said, “I can only think of one person. It was probably about 20 years ago, and that person actually went to the bank and got a mortgage. If people have a home, it’s usually inherited from their parents or from relatives.” And that situation is a bit of a problem in itself, because it means that people can’t move out of public housing. Public housing traps you in a lot of ways. For example, it punishes employment, because rent is geared to income. It’s been said many times that this model disincentivizes employment. I was in a workshop last year where an Indigenous person spoke up and said, “Actually, it’s not disincentivizing, it punishes employment. It takes things away from you.” Somebody at the territorial housing corporation in Yellowknife told me, “We have clients who are over the income threshold for public housing, but there’s nowhere else they can go.” Theoretically, they would go to the private housing market, they would go to market housing, or they would go to homeownership, but those options don’t exist or they aren’t within reach.  So the idea with the transitional homeownership model is to create an option that could allow the highest income earners in a non-market community to move towards homeownership. This could take some pressure off the public housing system. And it would almost be like a wealth distribution measure: people who are able to afford the cost of operating and maintaining a home then have that option, instead of remaining in government-subsidized housing. For those who cannot, the public housing system is still an option—and maybe a few more public housing units are freed up.  I’ve developed about 36 recommendations for a transitional homeownership model in northern non-market communities. The recommendations are meant to be actioned at various scales: at the scale of the individual household, the scale of the housing provider, and the scale of the whole community. The idea is that if you look at housing as part of a whole system, then there are certain moves that might make sense here—in a non-market context especially—that wouldn’t make sense elsewhere. So for example, we’re in a situation where a house doesn’t appreciate in value. It’s not a financial asset, it’s actually a financial liability, and it’s something that costs a lot to maintain over the years. Giving someone a house in a non-market community is actually giving them a burden, but some residents would be quite willing to take this on, just to have an option of getting out of public housing. It just takes a shift in mindset to start considering solutions for that kind of context. One particularly interesting feature of non-market communities is that they’re still functioning with a mixed economy: partially a subsistence-based or traditional economy, and partially a cash economy. I think that’s actually a strength that hasn’t been tapped into by territorial and federal policies. In the far North, in-kind and traditional economies are still very much a way of life. People subsidize their groceries with “country food,” which means food that was harvested from the land. And instead of paying for fuel tank refills in cash, many households in non-market communities are burning wood as their primary heat source. In communities south of the treeline, like Fort Good Hope, that wood is also harvested from the land. Despite there being no exchange of cash involved, these are critical economic activities—and they are also part of a sustainable, resilient economy grounded in local resources and traditional skills. This concept of the mixed economy could be tapped into as part of a housing model, by bringing back the idea of a ‘sweat equity’ contribution instead of a down payment—just like in the HAP. Contributing time and labour is still an economic exchange, but it bypasses the ‘cash’ part—the part that’s still hard to come by in a non-market community. Labour doesn’t have to be manual labour, either. There are all kinds of work that need to take place in a community: maybe taking training courses and working on projects at the Construction Centre, maybe helping out at the Band Office, or providing childcare services for other working parents—and so on. So it could be more inclusive than a model that focuses on manual labour. Another thing to highlight is a rent-to-own trial period. Not every client will be equipped to take on the burdens of homeownership. So you can give people a trial period. If it doesn’t work out and they can’t pay for operations and maintenance, they could continue renting without losing their home. Then it’s worth touching on some basic design principles for the homeownership units. In the North, the solutions that work are often the simplest—not the most technologically innovative. When you’re in a remote location, specialized replacement parts and specialized labour are both difficult to come by. And new technologies aren’t always designed for extreme climates—especially as we trend towards the digital. So rather than installing technologically complex, high-efficiency systems, it actually makes more sense to build something that people are comfortable with, familiar with, and willing to maintain. In a southern context, people suggest solutions like solar panels to manage energy loads. But in the North, the best thing you can do for energy is put a woodstove in the house. That’s something we’ve heard loud and clear in many communities. Even if people can’t afford to fill their fuel tank, they’re still able to keep chopping wood—or their neighbour is, or their brother, or their kid, and so on. It’s just a different way of looking at things and a way of bringing things back down to earth, back within reach of community members.  Regulatory barriers to housing access: Revisiting the National Building Code On that note, there’s one more project I’ll touch on briefly. TAG is working on a research study, funded by Housing, Infrastructure and Communities Canada, which looks at regulatory barriers to housing access in the North. The National Building Code (NBC) has evolved largely to serve the southern market context, where constraints and resources are both very different than they are up here. Technical solutions in the NBC are based on assumptions that, in some cases, simply don’t apply in northern communities. Here’s a very simple example: minimum distance to a fire hydrant. Most of our communities don’t have fire hydrants at all. We don’t have municipal services. The closest hydrant might be thousands of kilometres away. So what do we do instead? We just have different constraints to consider. That’s just one example but there are many more. We are looking closely at the NBC, and we are also working with a couple of different communities in different situations. The idea is to identify where there are conflicts between what’s regulated and what’s actually feasible, viable, and practical when it comes to on-the-ground realities. Then we’ll look at some alternative solutions for housing. The idea is to meet the intent of the NBC, but arrive at some technical solutions that are more practical to build, easier to maintain, and more appropriate for northern communities.  All of the projects I’ve just described are fairly recent, and very much still ongoing. We’ll see how it all plays out. I’m sure we’re going to run into a lot of new barriers and learn a lot more on the way, but it’s an incremental trial-and-error process. Even with the Construction Centre, we’re saying that this is a demonstration project, but how—or if—it rolls out in other communities would be totally community-dependent, and it could look very, very different from place to place.  In doing any research on Northern housing, one of the consistent findings is that there is no one-size-fits-all solution. Northern communities are not all the same. There are all kinds of different governance structures, different climates, ground conditions, transportation routes, different population sizes, different people, different cultures. Communities are Dene, Métis, Inuvialuit, as well as non-Indigenous, all with different ways of being. One-size-fits-all solutions don’t work—they never have. And the housing crisis is complex, and it’s difficult to unravel. So we’re trying to move forward with a few different approaches, maybe in a few different places, and we’re hoping that some communities, some organizations, or even some individual people, will see some positive impacts.  As appeared in the June 2025 issue of Canadian Architect magazine  The post Insites: Addressing the Northern housing crisis appeared first on Canadian Architect.

Architectural education is an important part of becoming an architect. It provides a foundation in art and architectural history, basic concepts of design, and foundational technical knowledge. It promotes critical thinking, examines social and economic complexities, and encourages creativity and teamwork. I may be biased, but I believe the camaraderie and pride that are part of architectural students’ design studio experience are unmatched by any other educational program.    In this issue of the AIA Canada Journal, Pauline Thimm, Hannah Allawi and I reached out to schools of architecture from across the country. Our conversations centred on research themes in today’s design studios, with a focus on housing affordability. Students and faculties are actively engaging in challenging the status quo on the shortage of housing. It takes a village to derive plausible solutions—and schools of architecture across the country are united in bringing their voices and minds to this pressing issue. In a Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council (SSHRC)-supported partnership, AIA Canada Society is also actively participating in research on designing inclusive, sustainable and healthy cities.  We want to thank all the educators who took time to speak with us and provide their invaluable insights.  -Dora Ng, AIA Canada Society President Rick Haldenby Professor, School of Architecture, University of Waterloo Rick Haldenby, FRAIC, served as Director of the School of Architecture at the University of Waterloo from 1988 to 2013, and founded the Waterloo Rome Program in 1979. Among many accomplishments, Haldenby was appointed to the Order of Canada in 2021, and has received the Lifetime Achievement Award from the Canadian Council of University Schools of Architecture, the Special Jury Prize at the Kitchener Waterloo Arts Awards, and the Dr. Jean Steckle Award for Heritage Education from the Waterloo Regional Heritage Foundation. Q: Kitchener-Waterloo is known as a university town that is home to top Ontario post-secondary institutions. Tell us a bit about the twin cities. A: The Waterloo Region’s industrial development began with the arrival of German-speaking immigrants in the 19th century. Its cities were literally “founded on factories.” Its prosperity was influenced by a rail-based transport system. In the late 19th century, the extension of the Grand Trunk Railway contributed to the industrialization of the area. In the 1950s, visionary community leaders made concerted efforts to build educational infrastructure, and in just a few years created the University of Waterloo, Wilfrid Laurier University and Conestoga College. The region experienced significant growth in manufacturing industries, insurance companies, and high-tech businesses over time. Home to two universities and a college, it is an education hub that attracts talents and businesses, which increases the demand for housing for students and families. The once-suburban neighbourhood of Northdale, surrounded by these post-secondary institutions, saw a surge in student population in the early 2000s, including a large percentage of international students. We saw a building boom to increase medium-density housing like stacked townhomes and row houses, as well as taller buildings up to 30+ stories in what was once a primarily low-density town. Q:  Like the building boom in Waterloo, we saw many residential high-rises going up in the GTA, but this growth still does not adequately address housing demand. In many cities across Canada, there are unprecedented housing issues including affordability and homelessness. What do you see emerging as key areas of interest and inquiry among students at your school? Is housing one of them? A: Connection between affordability and homelessness is not a one-to-one problem. The housing crisis can have many dimensions. In our undergraduate design studios, we are laying the groundwork for approaches to affordability, environmental responsibility and social justice. Many of my colleagues and graduate students at the University of Waterloo are involved in various research studies, exhibitions and campaigns, including the 2023 Venice Architecture Biennale. We also try to keep a balance to cover diverse topics in architecture, including housing. Second- and third-year design studios focus on urban intensification amid the building boom, enabling students to discuss ideas for keeping cities habitable and attractive for future growth. Design studios have also worked with the local chapter of Habitat for Humanity to support the ambitious program to build affordable housing for families in need. In partnership with the City of Cambridge, Waterloo architecture students designed and built tiny homes as prototypes for emergency shelter. Photo courtesy University of Waterloo Q: Any examples of collaboration between studio projects and practicing professionals in tackling the housing crisis? A: Through collaboration and communication with the community, the School of Architecture has engaged with social housing agencies, municipality planning authorities, Indigenous groups and aging-in-place consultants to develop housing solutions for a diverse population including seniors. Moving the School of Architecture from Waterloo to Cambridge in 2004 was a communal project with great support from the City of Cambridge. Occupying the repurposed silk mill in Cambridge, the school aims to be the design campus for the city to allow exchange of creative ideas and intellectual stimulation. Since the move, we have had many opportunities to collaborate and work closely with the municipality. The Tiny Homes project is an initiative in partnership with the City of Cambridge, whereby Waterloo architecture students were engaged to design and build prototype tiny homes that offer practical, cost-effective and dignified emergency housing solutions. It is an example of collaboration that makes a meaningful difference.  Photo by Danielle Sneesby Shauna Mallory-Hill Associate Professor and Associate Dean of Research, Faculty of Architecture, University of Manitoba Shauna Mallory-Hill, PhD, is currently Associate Professor and Associate Dean of Research at the University of Manitoba’s Faculty of Architecture. Her 25-year-long career spans teaching, research and advocacy, with a focus on building systems, universal and sustainable design, as well as building performance evaluation. Her sponsored research includes accessible design, along with post-occupancy work on how sustainably designed environments impact human health and productivity. Q: How is The University of Manitoba Faculty of Architecture (FAUM) specifically engaging in design explorations addressing housing?  A: In addition to hosting public events and delivering focused design studios, we are actively engaged and support research collaborations including funded research with the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council (SSHRC) and the Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation (CMHC). We are also committed to partnering and working with communities.    In 2022, U of M professor Lancelot Coar’s undergraduate studio engaged with One House Many Nations to develop a mobile design and construction trailer for on-site design-build work. Photo by Lancelot Coar One House Many Nations (OHMN) originally started as a grassroots movement to shed light on the housing crisis faced by Indigenous communities.  For the past four years, OHMN, led by Dr. Alex Wilson and Sylvia McAdam, has been working with faculty and students from FAUM, houseless First Nations youth, and students at Saskatoon’s Nutana Collegiate to design and construct small, affordable homes that are trucked to remote Indigenous communities in Northern Saskatchewan. After a house is delivered, it is occupied by one of the youth participants. Each year, another house is built, informed by post-occupancy data that was collected on the previous year’s house(s).  First Nations youth participants have learned to advocate for community needs while gaining skills and knowledge about home-building and maintenance.  Lancelot Coar’s 2022 undergraduate architecture studio engaged with OHMN to create a mobile design lab that can be brought onsite to design-build in First Nations communities. OHMN’s work was exhibited at the Canadian Pavilion at the Venice Biennale of Architecture in 2023.    Q: What are key areas of interest and inquiry among students at your school? Is housing one of them?  A: We are seeing that this generation is increasingly concerned about what is happening to the world—concerns about sustainability, housing, and food deserts are paramount. Students want to work on things that are meaningful. Students also really embrace hands-on learning. Any time students are encouraged and supported to engage with community, they feel like they are making a difference.     Here in Winnipeg, we can all see the encampments of the unhoused. It is apparent that there is work to do to solve this dilemma.This past year, one of our housing-themed studios worked with a local grassroots organization, St. Boniface Street Links, in the design and construction of a prototype transitional house as a safer interim housing solution. This housing project ultimately was built and included as part of the annual Warming Huts design competition at the Forks. Q: Are there any barriers to collaborating in this way, involving practitioners and real community groups? A: We often get groups who approach us to collaborate. We need to be clear that we are not providing a design service, but we are committed to the exploration of ideas and working together on important problems.     It is important to me that doing housing research work in collaboration with Indigenous communities is respectful, responsible and reciprocal. Ensuring that some benefit of the research stays with the community is crucial, given the long history of research involving Indigenous populations where this did not happen. A willingness to listen and understand community priorities and context—and adapt—is key.  It can be difficult for some to have enough capacity to deal with added administration (meetings, paperwork, report writing, etc.); a local liaison is helpful.  The Wîkiwin student-built house is part of an ongoing collaboration with Kawéchiwasik Development Corporation at York Factory First Nation. Photo by Shauna Mallory-Hill Q: Some of your current research and design work is supported by the CMHC Housing Supply Challenge. Can you tell us a bit about that project?  A: The CMHC funding in part supports the Wîkiwin Training Enterprise of York Factory First Nation project, geared to building healthy homes by leveraging local resources and tradespeople in collaboration with the Kawéchiwasik Development Corporation. The purpose is to provide design education and construction skills in the northern communities where they are needed. A key goal is that kids won’t need to leave their communities to get skills, and communities can develop capacity to increase their self-sufficiency.    In collaboration with FAUM, the project will include a comprehensive education model based on a co-created curriculum, training programs, housing designs and research on building materials. Students earn micro-credentials through distance education to get basic training in design and construction, or have the opportunity to work as research assistants to assist with collection of data, such as indoor air quality.     Focusing on sustainable construction techniques, using local materials like stone and wood, the initiative promises to employ residents, cut production costs, and enhance housing quality. Additionally, the creation of a year-round skilled trades school facility and housing for students and teachers will boost the local labour force.    Stage 2 of the project involves the building of the Wîkiwin skilled trades training and research facility and dormitory. This phase will also see the expansion of the educational curriculum in partnership with the University of Manitoba, ultimately increasing the labour force capacity of York Factory First Nation and creating more opportunities for its youth.  Sasha Tsenkova Professor of Planning and Director of the Cities, Policy & Planning Lab at the School of Architecture, Planning & Landscape (SAPL), University of Calgary Sasha Tsenkova, PhD, is a professor at the School of Architecture, Planning & Landscape at the University of Calgary. With a background in architecture, urbanism, and planning, her work spans over 30 years of research, teaching, and professional practice, focusing on creating more inclusive and sustainable urban environments. She is a Fellow of the Canadian Institute of Planners and a Fellow of the Royal Society of Canada/Academy of Social Sciences. Q: Major cities across Canada are seeing unprecedented housing issues. As an educator, what have you seen in research or studio projects that tackle these issues?    A: We are a nation of suburban homeowners, where much of the wealth creation in the urban system is driven by investment in housing. Today, income and wealth inequality in Canadian cities is higher than ever before, which is exacerbated by the suburban homeownership model. In cities, newcomers to the housing market—young and old—face incredible affordability constraints. Homelessness has grown exponentially and homeownership is not within the reach of the middle class. In the design world, we must begin to address, through systemic intervention, these challenges. Many of our research and studio projects focus on sustainable urbanism through designs  that explore strategies to provide affordable homes across the income spectrum and embrace different types of housing.      We cannot continue to replicate a model of postwar city building that no longer serves the needs of the people. We encourage students to learn from successful cities in Europe, Latin America, and the United States, where a more systematic approach to neighbourhood design and redevelopment allows various types of housing to be built along the same street within a community. This is a different approach to growth premised on urban regeneration and intensification, where people come before cars and community identity evolves over time.   Q: Any examples of collaboration between studio projects and practicing professionals in tackling the housing crisis?  A: We focus on community-engaged scholarship, research and teaching at SAPL. Integration with communities of practice is necessary, but so is a direct relationship with clients, so that we situate our studio projects in the real-world. The housing crisis is multi-faceted and future professionals need to be aware of the complexity of design intervention—solutions require a nexus of policy, planning and design approaches. In a graduate school, we must prepare aspiring designers, architects and planners to embrace these challenges.      The interface with critical practice is the ultimate test for us to remain relevant and committed to innovation and excellence within the realm of what we can control. Studio teaching needs to address housing affordability in a systematic way, as it will make a critical difference within Canadian society and will define the future of our cities. This requires a much stronger emphasis on sustainable urbanism and community-based projects.  Q: What policies do you feel cities in Canada should create or address to aid in addressing the housing crisis and homelessness?  A: The planning regulation, upzoning, and permitting processes can be improved to enhance infill housing, gentle density and inner-city intensification. Recognizing that cities and neighbourhoods need to be built for people and not for cars requires a focus on transit-oriented development in strategic locations where low-density retail, industrial and housing sites can be redeveloped to become mixed-use urban villages with a variety of housing types. Changes to minimum parking standards and lot coverage can energize the infusion of missing middle housing to create opportunities for multi-generational living, cohousing and home sharing with renters. But the real difference in addressing the homelessness and affordability crisis is the renewed investment into affordable housing through partnerships of federal, provincial and municipal governments with non-profit organizations. We need to grow this segment of the housing market and to make sure that it is an integral part of our urban neighbourhoods through the design process. Q: What role do you think schools of architecture and design have in tackling the housing crisis in Canada?  A: We need to make a major commitment to building knowledge and capacity that focuses on solutions to the housing crisis in our curriculum. Design thinking is premised on innovation; it is part of the competency, creativity and collaboration that we try to instill in future professionals. Architects today are absent from the design of neighbourhoods on the periphery of our cities. We need to bring back that creativity and the knowledge of architects, planners, and designers, and develop the prototypes that will provide solutions to the housing crisis.     SAPL is moving downtown so that we can be a part of downtown rebuilding and innovation. Our adaptive reuse of existing office space in Calgary’s downtown will provide opportunities to connect to local businesses and residents and offer immersion in city life that is critical for our students. Our school will be a living urban design lab, where we embrace social justice, community-inspired design work and collaborate with different communities of practice to demonstrate viable solutions for changing cities and changing societies.   Sara Stevens Associate Professor & Chair – Urban Design at the School of Architecture & Landscape Architecture (SALA), University of British Columbia Sara Stevens is an architectural historian and Associate Professor at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver. Her book Developing Expertise (Yale University Press, 2016) studies real estate development in 20th-century American cities. She is a member of the collective Architects Against Housing Alienation, curators of the Canada Pavilion at the 2023 Venice Architecture Biennale. Q:  Major cities across Canada are seeing unprecedented housing issues (affordability issues and homelessness). As an educator, what have you seen in research or studio projects that tackle these issues?  A: There are so many great examples of design studios in Canada that are looking at housing challenges, such as the ‘Not for Sale’ study abroad course on contemporary housing that recently won the ACSA’s 2024 Architectural Education Award. McGill has a long history of housing research with the Minimum Cost Housing Group, which was the subject of a recent exhibition curated by Ipek Türeli. The work of Shawn Bailey and Lancelot Coar at the University of Manitoba is bringing really innovative pedagogy to the question of housing for Indigenous communities to design schools.  Q: Any examples of collaboration between studio projects and practicing professionals in tackling the housing crisis?  A: At UBC, questions around missing middle housing brought forth a collaboration between Haeccity Studio Architects and UBC students that resulted in a publication of the students’ work, co-sponsored by SALA and the Urbanarium, an organization in Vancouver that is a forum for sharing ideas about city building, particularly around climate change and housing affordability. The Urbananium’s design competitions have focused on missing middle housing, mixed-use neighbourhoods, and the codes and regulations that are barriers to housing affordability. Their current competition, Decoding Timber Towers, is focused on prefab and mass timber housing.  Q: What policies do you feel cities in Canada should create or address to aid in the housing crisis and homelessness?  A: I think that Canada needs to take UNDRIP and the TRC Calls to Action seriously. We can’t separate the issue of housing for Indigenous people, and the history of colonization that it’s part of, from the housing challenges everyone else faces. The United Nations Housing as a Human Right work is a great resource on this, as their work also points to the problems of financialization and the effect this has had on renters, social housing, and un-housed folks.  The Land Back Courtyard was part of the Not For Sale exhibition at the Canada Pavilion in the 2023 Venice Architecture Biennale. Photo by Maris Mezulis Q: What role do you think schools of architecture and design have in tackling the housing crisis in Canada? A: Schools of architecture and design can play an important role by educating students about the role of architects in the housing crisis in Canada. We need the next generation of architects to understand that they have a part to play. It’s not an issue that can be solved through policy and the market alone: their expertise in design, which of course touches policy and works with the private sector, is inherently part of this issue.     To develop deeper conversations around this, I am working with collaborators in the collective Architects Against Housing Alienation to organize a super-studio across Canada for the next school year (25-26) called “End Housing Alienation Now!” that is inviting all schools of architecture to run studios on a shared set of themes and principles. (This builds off of the exhibition and campaign we did for the 2023 Venice Architecture Biennale, which the teaching award I mentioned is also related to.) We have commitments from almost all the schools already, and have hosted a number of conversations with people from the schools to develop how this will work, balancing what is shared vs. independent, the different schedules and levels of students, etc.      For these studios, one ambition is that the studios work with local activists, advocates, and professional practices to show students how important these kinds of collaborations can be, and how important embedded local knowledge is. We hope to share resources and create opportunities for students to connect across geographies to ensure that many, many people with lots of passion and expertise are focused on this topic.     As appeared in the June 2025 issue of Canadian Architect magazine  The post AIA Canada Journal: Canadian educators on housing affordability appeared first on Canadian Architect.

The Communications Workers of America, the union representing QA testers at ZeniMax, announced today that it has reached a tentative agreement on a labor contract with Microsoft. If implemented, this contract will be one of the first to go into effect at one of the big AAA game publishers.Last month, the union voted to authorize a strike in response to challenges to the contract negotiation process; this agreement would avoid a strike from being carried out. In a press release, CWA shared that the agreed contract would grant ZeniMax employees significantly increased protections and would raise pay across the board. It would also implement guidelines on the use of AI, restrict "arbitrary dismissal," and create processes to ensure that QA testers adequately receive credit in video games that they contribute to.QA testing has been a hotspot of unionization efforts in the games industry, some of which have been targeted with union-busting efforts. At ZeniMax, the QA testers' union represents around 300 employees and has been fighting for several years for this contract. In response to the agreement, Jessee Leese, a QA tester and union representative at ZeniMax, stated, "Video games have been the revenue titan of the entire entertainment industry for years, and the workers who develop these games are too often exploited for their passion and creativity. Organizing unions, bargaining for a contract, and speaking with one collective voice has allowed workers to take back the autonomy we all deserve."Continue Reading at GameSpot

State-of-the-art models show human-competitive accuracy on AIME, GPQA, MATH-500, and OlympiadBench, solving Olympiad-level problems. Recent multimodal foundation models have advanced benchmarks for disciplinary knowledge and mathematical reasoning. However, these evaluations miss a crucial aspect of machine intelligence: physical reasoning, which requires integrating disciplinary knowledge, symbolic operations, and real-world constraints. Physical problem-solving differs fundamentally from pure mathematical reasoning as it demands models to decode implicit conditions in questions. For example, interpreting “smooth surface” as zero friction coefficient, and maintaining physical consistency across reasoning chains because physical laws remain constant regardless of reasoning trajectories. MLLM shows excellent visual understanding by integrating visual and textual data across various tasks, motivating exploration of its reasoning abilities. However, uncertainty remains regarding whether these models possess genuine advanced reasoning capabilities for visual tasks, particularly in physical domains closer to real-world scenarios. Several LLM benchmarks have emerged to evaluate reasoning abilities, with PHYBench being most relevant for physics reasoning. MLLM scientific benchmarks, such as PhysReason and EMMA, contain multimodal physics problems with figures, however, they include only small physics subsets, which inadequately evaluate MLLMs’ capabilities for reasoning and solving advanced physics problems. Researchers from the University of Hong Kong, the University of Michigan, the University of Toronto, the University of Waterloo, and the Ohio State University have proposed PHYX, a novel benchmark to evaluate the physical reasoning capabilities of foundation models. It comprises 3,000 visually-grounded physics questions, precisely curated across six distinct physics domains: Mechanics, Electromagnetism, Thermodynamics, Wave/Acoustics, Optics, and Modern Physics. It evaluates physics-based reasoning via multimodal problem-solving with three core innovations: (a) 3,000 newly collected questions with realistic physical scenarios requiring integrated visual analysis and causal reasoning, (b) Expert-validated data design covering six fundamental physics domains, and (c) Strict unified three-step evaluation protocols. Researchers designed a four-stage data collection process to ensure high-quality data. The process begins with an in-depth survey of core physics disciplines to determine coverage across diverse domains and subfields, followed by the recruitment of STEM graduate students as expert annotators. They comply with copyright restrictions and avoid data contamination by selecting questions without answers that are immediately available. Moreover, quality control involves a three-stage cleaning process including duplicate detection through lexical overlap analysis with manual review by physics Ph.D. students, followed by filtering the shortest 10% of questions based on textual length, resulting in 3,000 high-quality questions from an initial collection of 3,300. PHYX presents significant challenges for current models, with even the worst-performing human experts achieving 75.6% accuracy, outperforming all evaluated models and showing a gap between human expertise and current model capabilities. The benchmark reveals that multiple-choice formats narrow performance gaps by allowing weaker models to rely on surface-level cues, but open-ended questions demand genuine reasoning and precise answer generation. Comparing GPT-4o’s performance on PHYX to previously reported results on MathVista and MATH-V (both 63.8%), lower accuracy in physical reasoning tasks emphasizes that physical reasoning requires deeper integration of abstract concepts and real-world knowledge, presenting greater challenges than purely mathematical contexts. In conclusion, researchers introduced PHYX, the first large-scale benchmark for evaluating physical reasoning in multimodal, visually grounded scenarios. Rigorous evaluation reveals that state-of-the-art models show limitations in physical reasoning, relying predominantly on memorized knowledge, mathematical formulas, and superficial visual patterns rather than genuine understanding of physical principles. The benchmark focuses exclusively on English-language prompts and annotations, limiting assessment of multilingual reasoning abilities. Also, while images depict physically realistic scenarios, they are often schematic or textbook-style rather than real-world photographs, which may not fully capture the complexity of perception in natural environments. Check out the Paper, Code and Project Page. All credit for this research goes to the researchers of this project. Also, feel free to follow us on Twitter and don’t forget to join our 95k+ ML SubReddit and Subscribe to our Newsletter. Sajjad AnsariSajjad Ansari is a final year undergraduate from IIT Kharagpur. As a Tech enthusiast, he delves into the practical applications of AI with a focus on understanding the impact of AI technologies and their real-world implications. He aims to articulate complex AI concepts in a clear and accessible manner.Sajjad Ansarihttps://www.marktechpost.com/author/sajjadansari/Meta AI Introduces Multi-SpatialMLLM: A Multi-Frame Spatial Understanding with Multi-modal Large Language ModelsSajjad Ansarihttps://www.marktechpost.com/author/sajjadansari/Can LLMs Really Judge with Reasoning? Microsoft and Tsinghua Researchers Introduce Reward Reasoning Models to Dynamically Scale Test-Time Compute for Better AlignmentSajjad Ansarihttps://www.marktechpost.com/author/sajjadansari/NVIDIA AI Introduces AceReason-Nemotron for Advancing Math and Code Reasoning through Reinforcement LearningSajjad Ansarihttps://www.marktechpost.com/author/sajjadansari/Researchers Introduce MMLONGBENCH: A Comprehensive Benchmark for Long-Context Vision-Language Models

The Netherlands is facing a growing cyber security crisis, with a staggering 66% of Dutch businesses lacking adequate cyber resilience, according to academic research.   As geopolitical tensions rise and digital threats escalate, Rick van der Kleij, a psychologist and professor in Cyber Resilient Organisations at Avans University of Applied Sciences, who also conducts research at TNO, says that traditional approaches have failed and a paradigm shift is urgently needed.  Van der Kleij suggests that cyber security provides the illusion of safety rather than actual protection for many Dutch organisations. His stark assessment is that the Netherlands’ traditional approach to cyber risk is fundamentally broken.  “We need to stop thinking in terms of cyber security. It’s a model that has demonstrably failed,” he says. “Despite years of investment in cyber security measures, the frequency and impact of incidents continue to increase rapidly across Dutch businesses.”  This reflects the central argument of his recent inaugural lecture “Now that security is no more”, where he called for a paradigm shift in how Dutch organisations approach cyber risks.  Van der Kleij describes “the great digital dilemma” of balancing openness and security in a country with one of Europe’s most advanced digital infrastructures. “How can entrepreneurs remain open and connected without having to completely lock down their businesses?” he asks.  The statistics are stark. Van der Kleij’s study found that 66% of Dutch businesses are inadequately prepared for cyber threats. Recent ABN Amro research confirms the crisis: one in five businesses suffered cyber crime damage last year, rising to nearly 30% among large companies. For the first time, SMEs (80%) are more frequently targeted than large corporations (75%), marking a significant shift in cyber criminal strategy.  Despite the numbers, a perception gap persists. Van der Kleij identifies ‘the overconfident’ – Dutch businesses believing their cyber security is adequate when it isn’t. While SME attack rates soar, their risk perception remains static, whereas large organisations show marked awareness increases (from 41% to 64%). This creates a “waterbed effect” – as large companies strengthen defences, cyber criminals shift to less-prepared SMEs which are paradoxically reducing cyber security investments.  Van der Kleij emphasises a crucial distinction: while cyber security focuses on preventing incidents, cyber resilience acknowledges that incidents will happen. “It’s about having the capacity to react appropriately, recover from incidents, and learn from what went wrong to emerge stronger,” he says.  This requires four capabilities – prepare, respond, recover and adapt – yet most Dutch organisations focus only on preparation. The ABN Amro findings confirm this: many SMEs have firewalls but lack intrusion detection or incident response plans. Large companies take a more balanced approach, combining technology with training, response capabilities and insurance.  Uber’s experience illustrates the weakness of purely technical approaches. After a 2016 hack, they implemented two-factor authentication – yet were hacked again in 2022 by an 18-year-old using WhatsApp social engineering. “This shows that investing only in technology without addressing human factors creates fundamental weakness, which is particularly relevant for Dutch businesses that prioritise technological solutions,” van der Kleij adds.  Van der Kleij challenges the persistent myth that humans are cyber security’s weakest link. “People are often blamed when things go wrong, but the actual vulnerabilities typically lie elsewhere in the system, often in the design itself,” he says.  The misdirection is reflected in spending: 85% of cyber security investments go toward technology, 14% toward processes and just 1% toward the human component. Yet the ABN Amro research shows phishing – which succeeds through psychological manipulation rather than sophisticated technology – affects 71% of Dutch businesses.  “We’ve known for decades that people aren’t equipped to remember complex passwords across dozens of accounts, yet we continue demanding this and then express surprise when they create workarounds,” van der Kleij says. “Rather than blaming users, we should design systems that make secure behaviour easier. In the Netherlands, we need more human awareness in security teams, not more security awareness training for end users.”  Why do so many Dutch SMEs fail to invest in cyber resilience despite evident risks? Van der Kleij believes it’s about behaviour, not business size. “It’s not primarily about size or industry – it’s about behaviour and beliefs,” he says.  Common limiting beliefs among Dutch entrepreneurs include “I’m too small to be a target” or “I don’t have confidential information”. Remarkably, even suffering a cyber attack doesn’t change this mindset. “Studies show that when businesses are hacked, it doesn’t automatically lead them to better secure their operations afterward,” van der Kleij says.  The challenge is reaching those who need help most. “We have vouchers, we have arrangements where entrepreneurs can get help at a significantly reduced fee from cyber security professionals, but uptake remains negligible,” van der Kleij says. “It’s always the same parties who come to the government’s door – the large companies who are already mature. The small ones, we just can’t seem to reach them.”  Van der Kleij sees “relational capital” – resources generated through partnerships – as key to enhancing Dutch cyber resilience. “You can become more cyber resilient by establishing partnerships,” he says, pointing to government-encouraged initiatives like Information Sharing and Analysis Centers.   The ABN Amro research reveals why collaboration matters: 39% of large companies experienced cyber incidents originating with suppliers or partners, compared with 25% of smaller firms. This supply chain vulnerability drives major Dutch organisations to demand higher standards from partners through initiatives such as Big Helps Small.  European regulations reinforce this trend. The new NIS2 directive will expand coverage from hundreds to several thousand Dutch companies, yet only 11% have adequately prepared. Among SMEs, approximately half have done little preparation – despite Dutch police warnings about increasingly frequent ransomware attacks where criminals threaten to release stolen data publicly.  Van der Kleij’s current research at Avans University focuses on identifying barriers to cyber resilience investment through focus groups with Dutch entrepreneurs. “When we understand these barriers – which are more likely motivational than knowledge-related – we can design targeted interventions,” he says.  Van der Kleij’s message is stark: “The question isn’t whether your organisation will face a cyber incident, but when – and how effectively you’ll respond. Cyber resilience encompasses cyber security while adding crucial capabilities for response, recovery and adaptation. It’s time for a new paradigm in the Netherlands.”  Read more about Dutch cyber security