The idea that a diverse population needs a diverse environment to succeed seems easy enough to grasp. Certainly, it is easier to comprehend than a one-size-fits-all design philosophy. Why then, in the name of universal design and equality, do architects continue to design uniform one-size-fits-all environments? Answering that is not so simple. Some may suggest that construction methods, costs, and site restrictions make diverse environments economically and physically infeasible. Others may fault the lack of courses architects take in human biology and psychology. This might make it impossible for them to understand the diverse range of people their buildings affect. Even more may fault the ever increasingly abstract design process. This may hinder architects’ ability to identify with real future occupants. All of these conceivably play a role, but the most likely culprit is Plato’s philosophy of essentialism for the same reason biologist Ernst Mayr felt it caused evolution’s insufferably late discovery; essentialism has and continues to fundamentally shape how we see and deal with diversity.
Throughout history variation posed a major philosophical problem for those in search of objective truths both in design and life in general. Plato’s philosophy of essentialism attempted to bring objective truths to what he saw as relative and subjective experiences. According to Plato, a singular essence/definition of any form or idea must exist aspatially and atemporally in order to attain universal applicability among its various representations. For example, no matter whether drawn in the sand or autocad we can easily recognize a triangle when we see one. We can do this because we interpret any smudge or squiggle as an aberration from the true essence of a triangle. Plato called these singular essences Forms, and he applied this logic to everything from triangles to humans.
For Plato, all human differences represent corrupted and messy shadows projected by the pure Human Form. By defining the singular human archetype/essence, architects could theoretically create environments that would be universally appealing and accessible to all the sullied shadows we represent. It was thought that beauty could be objectively achieved by discovering the proportions of this illusive man. Once discovered, our homes, churches and marketplaces would be equally appealing to all users at all times—in other words the holy grail of architecture. With such a promise, architects, like possessed crusaders, have been trying to capture the human essence ever since the possibility was suggested.
