Children of polluted skies
Author’s statement: The purpose of this article is purely to raise awareness about light pollution and highlight the moral responsibility of designers and all parties involved in the decision-making process.
When I was a child, I loved spending summer nights on my grandma's balcony, counting stars. I remember it vividly. Grandma Alexandra (from whom I took my name) would playfully warn me not to count too much, saying it could give me pimples. She'd say, "We admire the stars, not count them," in a caring but firm way. Those nights were special, and my grandma taught me to appreciate the stars without getting caught up in counting every single one. In those earlier times, I couldn't fully understand the deep and special nature of those moments. I didn't realize that my 3-year-old daughter might never have a similar experience with her grandmothers.
Nowadays, our way of looking at the sky has changed. Instead of just counting stars, we now enjoy watching drone-created constellations, LED chip fireflies, and light installations that shoot beams high into the sky, stretching for hundreds of meters. The way we connect with the celestial world has transformed into a more technologically infused and visually spectacular experience.
I acknowledge that the marriage of technology and the night sky not only enhances our visual engagement but also serves as a bridge between generations. It provides a space where the timeless wonder of staring into the celestial abyss merges with the cutting-edge advancements of our era. However, as we navigate this brave new world of celestial connection, we should find ourselves responsible for all the present and future links we make.
I can’t help but feel a bit nostalgic and worried about the increasing prevalence of artificial light in our nighttime environments. I wonder if this is how things are going to be now. Have we forgotten why we use light in the first place? What is the true purpose of it? And are we ignoring the big problem of climate change? Who needs to do something about this? The people who design things, the ones who use them, or the ones who make the rules? It's like we're at a crossroads, thinking about the old days, worrying about now, and figuring out what everyone needs to do to make things better for our world.
Amidst these contemplations, it is evident to me that designers must be ethically accountable for the societal and environmental impacts of their creations. The concept and outcome of a designer's work mirror their personality, beliefs, and ego. Designer’s task is to create environments that balance functionality, aesthetics, and bear the responsibility of promoting sustainable and mindful solutions.
Clients, in turn, must prioritize environmentally conscious choices and advocate for designs that mitigate what we call ‘light pollution’. Also, authoritative bodies hold a pivotal role in shaping and enforcing policies that regulate the use of artificial light, encouraging a collective commitment to environmental stewardship.
While I was writing this article, I came across various European efforts to tackle the issue of light pollution in countries like France, Italy, Spain, etc. France, for instance, passed a law in 2018 to prevent, reduce, and limit light pollution. Italian regions have constantly implemented regulations to control outdoor lighting, protect dark sky areas, and raise awareness about the issue. Similarly, regions in Spain, particularly those with astronomical observatories, have taken measures to preserve nightscapes.
However, my thoughts linger on my country, Greece, a comparatively smaller European nation, as it appears to lag behind in addressing the problem. During the time that many of our European counterparts are diligently working to reclaim the beauty of the night sky in their urban areas by curbing excessive illumination, it seems that Greece continues to carelessly illuminate the night sky. This raises questions about the country's approach on addressing light pollution and whether there is a need for more concerted efforts to align with the broader European endeavor to preserve the natural darkness of our night skies.
It is crucial to recognize that light pollution plays a significant role in the broader Environmental Crisis puzzle. Light pollution disrupts natural circadian rhythms, leading to insomnia and posing enduring threats to overall health. Intrusive artificial light interferes with the production of melatonin, contributing to mental health challenges like stress, anxiety, and depression. The excessive glare emitted by bright lights induces discomfort and visual impairment, impeding nighttime activities. These indicate the serious impacts of excessive artificial lighting on human health. However, the effects extend beyond our species; have you thought about the impact on other forms of life?
Ecosystems suffer as well, with light pollution disrupting the behavior and activities of nocturnal animals, affecting their migration, feeding, and reproduction patterns, ultimately leading to population decline. Did you know that migratory species can be disoriented by obtrusive light? Our school days taught us that we are all part of the same chain, yet what happened to the other links? Why, when designing temporary or permanent lighting installations, facade lighting, or lighting masterplans, do we only consider humans, or worse, human profit?
Have we forgotten the beauty of a dark sky filled with stars? An unsettling example lies in the island of Mykonos. Despite three years of visiting the serene neighbor island of Tinos with my family, the image of Mykonos from a distance saddened me every time. A luminous cloud, like a glowing haze, cloaks the overpopulated island during nighttime. Imagine being an insect drawn to these lights!
Undoubtedly, the impact of globalization and the pervasive influence of "Dubai style'' design concepts shared on social media platforms, have led to the adoption of designs that deviate continents away from our culture and aesthetics. Designers, often curating inspirational Pinterest boards filled with aesthetically pleasing images, sometimes neglect the vital context behind these references. Clients, in turn, eager to replicate successful examples, sustain a cycle of borrowing without deep consideration.
It's disheartening to witness promising masterplans and upcoming developments that seemingly turn away from our local materiality, the distinctive landscape, and the regional architecture - neglecting the unique charm of our renowned Greek sun. This trend raises concerns about the potential loss of our cultural identity and the rich context that should ideally inform and shape our design choices.
Respecting environmental biodiversity and inhabitants can restore ecological balance, offering a persuasive argument for us to rediscover the simplicity and purity of a dark sky. Embracing this perspective, my optimism imagines a future where our children can enjoy the simple pleasure of tucking into a sleeping bag beneath the stars, anywhere in the world they choose. This positive perspective highlights the significance of our collective actions in preserving natural darkness for the well-being of both humans and the diverse ecosystems that coexist with us on this planet.
So, reconsidering every aspect, from client interactions and conceptualization processes to the steps and resources employed in implementing a design concept, is crucial for contributing to the fight against the climate crisis. This holistic approach ensures that sustainability and environmental consciousness are integrated into every stage of the design process. By questioning and reshaping these fundamental elements, designers can significantly contribute to promoting environmentally responsible practices and ultimately influencing the positive ecological impact of the final design outcomes.
