Authenticity

Authentic environments exude a sense of reality and rootedness – we feel that time has passed there. The moment we first enter a building, room, or area of a city, we consciously and subconsciously experience its atmosphere and mood, just as when we meet someone new and intuit immediately whether they are genuine or fake.

American cognitive scientist Scott Barry Kaufman’s comments on healthy human authenticity in a 2019 Scientific American article also ring true for our built environments: “The science of authenticity does show that feeling in touch with your real self (even if there doesn’t actually exist such a thing) is a strong predictor of many indicators of well-being. … Healthy authenticity … involves accepting and taking responsibility for your whole self as a route to personal growth and meaningful relationships.”

“Authenticity is subtle and nuanced,” observes British architect Adam Robarts in his book, Nineteen, about the lessons he learned from his son who died of cancer. “I see a young man who is comfortable in his own skin and beyond that, in his being. A word that comes to mind is natural, rather than forced or artificially compliant… genuine, usually understated rather than dramatized for effect.” Robarts’s son makes such a deep impression on him not because of a dramatic effect but because of the simple power of his authenticity.

Authentic people don’t pretend to be someone else. Like authentic buildings, they are legible and transparent. In architecture, these qualities refer to an ability to see how each component’s manufacturing and construction reflect its time and age. Architectural historian Colin Rowe and architectural theorist Robert Slutzky differentiate between literal and phenomenal transparency in architecture. Literal transparency is when light passes through glass, a void, or an opening to reveal what is within and allows us to see what is before us. Phenomenal transparency is when a building reveals the layering and organization of its components, revealing its materiality and texture through light and shadow. It is a transparency of interpretation and legibility – an openness to the building’s construction, materiality, systems, and purpose.

Buildings communicate their authenticity through our senses – in the way our feet touch the floor or sounds carry off the walls. We often describe environments as warm or cold, depending on the materials used. Some surfaces physically absorb heat from the environment or from our hands when we touch them. Think of the differences between how wood and stone make you feel as opposed to glass and steel.

Shapes, forms, and symbols can communicate a reality and rootedness – or the opposite. A 2013 University of Toronto study into how fast food can reduce happiness found that symbols of “impatience culture” – such as standardized Styrofoam containers stamped with a fast-food logo – undermine our ability to experience happiness and positive emotional responses when exposed to pleasurable events. This happens through a psychological effect called priming, wherein our subconscious is influenced by exposure to visual and other sensory clues. For example, the study’s participants were all shown images of scenic natural beauty. Half of the participants were also shown images of fast food from McDonald’s. When asked to rate their happiness afterwards, the group that also saw the McDonald’s symbols rated their happiness lower than those who didn’t. Their results indicate that we think and react differently based on the authenticity or shallowness of our surroundings.