You know things are bad when even the architecture is against you. Yet, most Angelenos express at least a passing familiarity with a concept called “hostile architecture.” Alternatively known as hostile urbanism or, by those supporting its use, defensive architecture, hostile architecture strives to use streetscapes and designs in public areas to put up some sort of resistance to easy use or long-term use. That’s a convoluted way of saying that hostile architecture intends to be serviceable strictly within the range of its intended use… and even then just barely. Isn’t architecture supposed to make things easier? Or at least more attractive? So why is hostile architecture a thing, not just in LA, but all around the world? As usual, it’s not a simple answer.
What is Hostile Architecture?
Speaking with LAist in 2017, Co-Director of Here LA Amber Hawkes artfully described hostile architecture as “any streetscaping element or design move in the public realm that is unfriendly to the human being.” In full transparency, Hawkes spoke openly against hostile architecture throughout the piece. But whether you’re for it or against it, you’ll likely agree with her definition.
So why would a city planner or designer go out of their way to devise architecture that was purposely obstructive? Nihilism? Pretentious artistic statement? To really understand, you need to first recognize the people who are intended to be deterred by hostile architecture.
Who Does Hostile Architecture Target?
Hostile architecture can be subtle. You’re not likely to even notice it unless it’s significantly in your way. For example, do you notice the metal dividers installed on public benches around LA? You know, the ones that aren’t quite armrests but definitively segment a bench into clearly portioned seats? What about boulders blocking all but the smallest sliver of sidewalks? You’re not likely to give these a second thought. But LA’s unhoused population? That’s another story.
Critics of hostile architecture are quick to point out that it seems to solely exist to drive away the city’s vast numbers of homeless citizens. Much of the hostile architecture we see around LA exists in front of shops, at public rest areas, or in secluded alleys where homeless individuals may attempt to rest… or set up encampments.
Hostile Architecture or Defensive Architecture?
And that’s where proponents of “defensive” architecture come in. These are the shop owners who see business drop when an encampment pops up just inches from their door. They’re also the drivers who resent extended commutes when an out-of-control encampment fire ignites a freeway overpass. Or tired transit riders who don’t want to stand on the train for 30 minutes while an unshowered homeless person sprawls across a row of seats. Agree or disagree, these are prominent perspectives in our community.
But Does It Actually Address the Problem?
It’s no secret that Los Angeles has an inflated problem with homelessness. According to the LA Homeless Service Authority, over 75,500 people suffered from homelessness in Los Angeles County in 2023. And unsheltered homelessness was up 14% from the previous year.
Though most advocates of hostile architecture are purely focused on immediate, short-term solutions, it’s worth noting that obstructive designs don’t address the city’s issues with homelessness in any meaningful way. The County of LA Homeless Initiative claims that real change is only possible through shifts in public policy.
While voters frequently support measures that expand assistance to the homeless community, such efforts take time. Add in popular concerns about civic mismanagement, and it becomes clearer why a vocal portion of citizens have softened to hostile architecture over the years. It may not be a solution to the homelessness problem but it’s a solution to their problem. And for some Angelenos, that’s enough.
It’s Everywhere You Look… if You’re Looking
The hostile architecture you’ll find around the city isn’t erected under cover of night by mavericks taking justice into their own hands. At least not usually. The majority of this anti-architecture is city-sanctioned.
Public benches are abrasive, punctuated by strange curving metal bars, deterring long periods of rest. Bolts aggressively jut from heating vents, driving away unhoused people looking for a reprieve from an autumn night’s chill. Sprinklers are deployed at odd hours, punishing anyone taking the risk of a sidewalk slumber in the wee hours. Metal teeth and spikes line any platform where a person might dare to recline.
These are all examples of hostile architecture that you’ll find warding people away from parks, bus stations, city centers, and the like. Some people see it as a shame that we’ve reached this level of callousness. Others think it’s a sensible response that forces people to use public amenities as intended.
Hostile Architecture Affects (Almost) Everyone
This stretches beyond the homeless community. Hostile architecture attacks any long-term or outside-the-box use of public space. In this sense, it’s a dream for people who hate skateboarding and loitering.
But even if you’re okay with sticking it to bored teenagers, the very nature of hostile architecture is indiscriminate in its discomfort. Need to wait for a bus? Better hope it comes quickly because these seats aren’t really made for long-term sitting. Enjoying an evening stroll? Well, just to ensure you keep moving, here are a few boulders on the sidewalk to keep you from getting distracted and milling around too much. In fact, it seems the only people who don’t feel at least inconvenienced now and then by hostile architecture are the ones who don’t need these amenities at all. And that’s where accusations of classicism begin to seep into the argument.
Good Versus Good Enough
Opponents of hostile architecture encourage more fervent use of these public spaces to illustrate their necessity to people from all walks of life. By clarifying the public emphasis on fully operational public space such as unobstructed sidewalks and benches, it sends a message to city planners to prioritize more welcoming solutions. After all, it’s hard to envision a utopia with metal spikes protruding from every public platform. But proponents of hostile architecture argue that we aren’t in a utopia, and won’t be anytime soon.
And baby steps toward meaningful change often stoke public derision. Take for instance last year’s introduction of “La Sombrita”. Unfamiliar? Designers created this contraption to address a growing demand for bus stops to provide adequate shade during the day and lighting during the night. La Sombrita served as a simple prototype; an attachment of perforated metal that provided a few feet of shade and a solar-powered luminance in the dark.
However, the shade was so paltry as to seem insulting. And the light was often too dim to matter. The creators of La Sombrita have defended their creation as merely a test run that didn’t cost taxpayers a single cent. But with a price tag in the thousands of dollars, La Sombrita became just another frustrating distraction in the argument; a halfway point between meaningful design and hostile architecture. Call it passive-aggressive architecture.
No Easy Answer
For many Angelenos, hostile architecture is a black-and-white issue. It basically boils down to the rights of the individual versus the rights of the community. Yet, if you think this clarifies the matter in the slightest, you might be looking too closely at one side of the issue. Should an unhoused individual’s rights come at the expense of others? Should a business owner’s rights come at the expense of others? Answers to either question will likely leave much to be desired. But until one side dramatically outbalances the other, hostile architecture remains an unfriendly part of life in LA.