A Flawed Foundation

Building new green homes seems visionary. But the most eco-friendly houses are the ones we're living in.

(Illustration by Shout)

Back in the drop-out days of the 1960s, environmentalism was understood as a way of life. Doing without and living simply were its hallmarks, and a rejection of consumerism was central to the ethic. Naturally, this ethic was perceived as a threat by many who feared its effect on the economy. Today, the development of a whole new category of green products, services, and buildings has apparently resolved any conflict. By creating responsible consumer goods, we now feel that we can enjoy healthy economic growth, produce more goods, and create more capital, all while lowering our use of energy and eliminating pollutants. A study comparing energy use in a traditional vs. new "green" home in the United States shows 50-year savings of up to the equivalent of 1,600 barrels of oil for the green version, depending on climate. The improvement comes from increased insulation, sophisticated heating and cooling systems, and the tight, thermally glazed windows that are green essentials.

As an architect, I'm feeling the pressure to gear up and build a whole new class of green buildings. But I'm skeptical of this trend.

The implications are huge. What are we going to do with our old buildings, for example? What about the energy we'll use when we tear them down and cart them away? There are already about 300,000 building demolitions per year in the United States, and the demolition of even a modest 2,000-square-foot house creates 127 tons of debris. Our annual waste pile has grown consistently and is now more than 3 million tons larger than it was at the turn of the millennium, even with major increases in recycling. In Massachusetts in recent years, more than a third of all of the trash we created was from demolition. Where are we going to put it all?

Then there is the energy needed to cut, ship, and assemble the new sustainably grown and manufactured materials, which can come from anywhere across the globe. In a post-NAFTA, globalized economy, it is clear that no matter how efficient and responsible your new residence may seem, it starts life with an energy cost from the manufacturing and shipping processes. If a demolition is involved, that energy cost is increased.

The logical alternative is to save the houses we have and to improve them. After all, the life of a 30-year fixed mortgage in this country is about seven years - if even a 10th of the houses that change hands in this process include green upgrades, the effect would be substantial, and we would have saved all the energy that went into building the houses, plus their infrastructure.

But there is a problem with this plan. Understandably, many Americans like to be up-to-date. The old ranches, bungalows, and split levels begin to look a lot like the gas guzzlers that were parked in their driveways. So why not go for that new energy-efficient home you have been offered? The answer is that retrofitting a sound wood-frame structure with energy-saving materials and technologies will be carried out in ways almost identical to those used to build a new green house, and the end product can be a more energy-efficient home than a new one. Again, this is a result of saving all the energy embodied in the materials and construction of the original house.

A major part of the energy involved in a renovation is largely carbon-free - it's mental energy. It involves measuring and analysis, then planning for - and integrating - new systems and materials into older buildings, opening them for more sunlight, and changing the space inside (or adding to it) to meet the needs of the modern family (which doesn't necessarily resemble the kind of family for which the original house was intended). And there are enough successful examples today to prove that the result can be as up-to-date as you want to make it. This is green design as it needs to be practiced now: a balance of resource conservation and technological advances. New green buildings are fine where they are needed, but our goal shouldn't be about development, but about preservation - of the planet.

James Hadley is a partner with his wife, Patricia Crow, in Hadley Crow Studio in Orleans, specializing in preservation and environmental planning. Send comments to magazine@globe.com.