Should we stop building new buildings?
In the 227th episode of Urbcast, I sat down with two prominent voices in Danish architecture: Nicolai Bo Andersen (Royal Danish Academy) and Søren Nielsen (ex-Vandkunsten and Aarhus School of Architecture). With decades of experience in both practice and academia, they spoke about one of the most pressing and controversial discussions in the built environment today: the movement to stop construction, or as it is referred to, Byggestop.
Why is sustainability confusing?
We started off with the most (mis)used term in architecture and urban planning in the last 15 years: sustainability. Nicolai challenged the popular fascination with new “sustainable materials” such as wood or hay, especially in tall buildings. He questioned whether material choice alone could address deeper systemic issues, pointing out that the term “sustainability” itself dates back to 1713, coined by German forester Hans Carl von Carlowitz. Even then, it was about balance—between consumption and regeneration in ecosystems like forests.
Ecological economics picked up the thread more than 50 years ago, recognizing that endless growth on a finite planet is a contradiction. While the idea of sustainability has a long history, Nicolai emphasized that its urgency is becoming more tangible: we now see and feel the effects of ecological imbalance in the form of extreme weather events and a changing climate.
The greenwashing of a good idea
Søren reflected on how the term “sustainability” has evolved—and been distorted—over time. He recalled his own journey, which began in the 1970s during the energy crisis. What started as a focus on energy efficiency eventually expanded to include embedded energy in materials and later, broader sustainability goals. Yet somewhere along the way, the term became so diluted—so greenwashed—that it risks becoming meaningless.
Today, concepts like regenerative architecture are emerging in response to this crisis of definition. But even these terms are at risk of the same fate if not applied critically and systemically.
From new construction to transformation
15 years ago, Søren reached a turning point: instead of designing new buildings, he focused his practice at Vandkunsten on renovations. Five years ago, he took another leap, concluding that in the Global North, we simply should not be building new structures—at least not at our current pace. With shrinking populations and vast building stock, the North has exceeded its fair share of planetary resources. It’s time, he argues, to reserve remaining resource “quotas” for the Global South and adopt a mindset of sufficiency.
This idea—of using, improving, and sharing what we already have—is echoed by Nicolai, who offered a clear definition of sustainability rooted in balance. Today, six out of nine planetary boundaries have been transgressed. As such, balance is no longer enough. We need regenerative action to return to a safe ecological space.
Recording session
Architecture within the system—or against it?
For Søren, this realization has triggered deeper questions about the profession itself. Architects, he argues, are stuck in a “building-industrial complex” driven more by financial return on investment than human needs. This creates an ethical dilemma: stay within the system and risk complicity, or step outside to imagine and practice architecture differently.
Not everyone can afford to leave mainstream practice, but everyone, he says, can ask difficult questions and push for change within their sphere of influence.
Legislation or mindset?
Change often comes from regulation. While some developers take bold, voluntary steps toward sustainability, many do not. So, isn’t systemic change—like legal reform—the only way forward?
According to Nicolai change must happen on two levels:
A shift in mindset, where we begin to think differently about growth, value, and necessity.
A shift in practice, where we act on those ideas with new methods and priorities.
What does a building stop mean?
Søren emphasized that a “building stop” doesn’t mean stopping architecture—it means stopping non-essential construction. It’s about transforming what already exists rather than endlessly expanding.
As Nicolai put it, we need:
– Less new construction
– Less demolition
– More transformation and reuse
This ties directly into the principle of sufficiency:
Use what we have for new purposes.
Improve what we have, both technically and aesthetically.
Share what we have, since the Global North—and Denmark in particular—already has more than enough space per person.
Empty buildings, full crisis
The paradox is painful. Europe faces an affordability and housing crisis, yet many units remain empty. In Warsaw, thousands of units sit vacant. In Copenhagen, the number is estimated between 8,000 and 10,000. Why? Because speculation keeps these spaces out of reach. Large investors and pension funds often develop luxury housing that’s priced above market needs, worsening inequality.
How can architects respond to this challenge? The answer, Søren suggested, lies partly in embracing transformation. He added that working with existing buildings is not only necessary—it’s architecturally richer and more complex.
Transformation as an architectural renaissance
Søren emphasized that working with transformation rather than new construction not only requires more architectural hours but also offers far richer results—more complex details, architectural motives, and context-sensitive designs. However, this complexity is precisely why most investors avoid such projects. Transforming existing buildings carries higher risks: hidden toxins, structural surprises, and unpredictable costs. Without systemic pressure—such as legal restrictions on new builds—investors are unlikely to embrace transformation widely.
That said, Søren pointed to encouraging signs. Some investors are beginning to fund transformation projects, even if motivated solely by profit. He sees value in supporting these pioneers, noting that transformation causes a deeper shift in architectural practice. Instead of producing spectacle buildings as commodities, architects are returning to their foundational role: creating livable, meaningful spaces for people—and potentially, other species too.
Architecture as social practice
Over the last 15 years, Søren has experienced first-hand how transformation can become a socially engaged process. Working on renovation projects where tenants remain involved, he has facilitated long-term collaborations—sometimes requiring years of evening workshops to reach consensus on design solutions. This participatory model cultivates mutual learning, deeper understanding, and a sense of ownership among residents. It's also, in Søren’s view, a form of informal public education—where architecture and democratic practice intersect.
Both Nicolai and Søren envision a future in which architecture plays a central role in cultivating a new building culture—one where the physical environment is deeply tied to its users through dialogue, care, and stewardship.
Is transformation professional suicide?
I wonder though: if architects advocate to stop designing new buildings, aren’t they undermining their own profession—biting the hand that feeds them?
For Nicolai, the real threat to the profession is continuing the current path. It’s biophysically impossible to maintain current construction levels. The limits of energy, land, and materials are already being breached. If architecture wants to remain relevant, it must redefine itself—not as a discipline of creating new objects, but as one focused on meaningful inhabitation.
As for commercial architects, Søren argued that if their primary driver is profit, they will adapt. Those producing generic, investment-grade buildings using standard geometries and materials are already being outpaced by AI. Software can already simulate entire developments, and automation will likely replace commodified architectural services.
Transformation resists automation
Transformation, on the other hand, resists standardization. Each project begins from a unique set of conditions—materials, histories, communities—which makes it deeply contextual. Søren hopes that this specificity will protect transformation from being overtaken by AI. Commercial architects focused purely on return-on-investment should, he cautioned, be worried.
Søren added that from the perspective of craftspeople, transformation is also more engaging. Instead of repetitive tasks like hanging drywall and painting surfaces as quickly as possible, renovation demands care, attention, and creative problem-solving. And the scale of the work is vast: around 75% of Europe's building stock must be renovated by 2050.
This creates long-term demand—not just for craftspeople, but for architects capable of co-designing with them on-site. This close collaboration, once the norm in previous generations, may become vital again. For both architects and builders, this could usher in a more meaningful and grounded way of working—less digital and detached, more physical and direct.
Radicalizing the movement: from reduction to a building stop
I observe the transformation of architectural discourse (at least in Denmark): from advocating for reduction in construction (as seen in projects like the Reduction Roadmap by Effekt and others) to calling for a full building stop. This evolving language reflects a growing urgency. The Byggestop movement now calls for a temporary national halt to new construction to give space for recalibration—rethinking how we design, build, and live within planetary boundaries.
Is this even possible?
For Nicolai who has been researching, teaching, and practicing transformation for decades, the idea of halting new construction isn’t radical—it’s logical. But he warned: not everyone is equipped to take on transformation. It requires humility and attentiveness to the specifics of each case. Unlike the past 25 years, where modular, transferable design concepts could be replicated globally, transformation demands site-specific sensitivity—to space, materials, users, and trades.
Nicolai highlighted that Danish schools have already been educating architects in this mode for years. They have the methods, the theories, and the students. What’s needed now is broader cultural and political alignment.
A radical but necessary stand
The Construction Freeze Movement (Byggestopbevægelsen), which architects Søren Nielsen and Nicolai Bo Andersen support, is currently facing growing resistance — particularly from political and industrial stakeholders in Denmark. The resistance stems largely from powerful economic interests. Municipalities rely on land sales to fund infrastructure projects, and pension funds seek stable returns through real estate investments — especially in volatile financial markets. Despite this, the movement advocates for redirecting these funds into transformation projects. This shift could be facilitated by political incentives such as tax deductions, bonuses, or other policy tools that make adaptive reuse and renovation more attractive.
Pricing what truly costs the planet
One of the fundamental problems, as highlighted by both architects, is the failure to account for externalities — the environmental costs not reflected in market prices. Currently, we do not pay the true cost of extracting raw materials, burning fossil fuels, or demolishing buildings. If these damages were properly priced, new construction would quickly become prohibitively expensive. Such a shift would completely alter the economic landscape of the construction industry, making it more viable — and more responsible — to invest in reusing and retrofitting existing buildings. This is not just theory, but a pragmatic path toward living within the planet’s ecological boundaries.
A call to action: architect’s role in a changing world
Both Nicolai and Søren stress that the role of architects must be fundamentally changed. Moving away from the pursuit of iconic buildings and architectural stardom, architects should instead focus on creating meaningful, livable places — not only for humans but for all life.
A clear call to action for fellow practitioners: architects must know the destination — a climate-resilient, ecologically responsible future — and stop engaging in “bread and butter” projects that do not contribute to this goal. If a project does not represent progress toward that future, walk away from it, they say.
However, change doesn’t only come from saying no. Architects can also raise awareness and push agendas forward within their offices, in project teams, and through interdisciplinary collaborations. These micro-actions are vital steps toward a broader social tipping point — a cultural shift where transformation is no longer seen as radical but as the norm.
What is next?
Despite the obstacles, both Soren and Nicolai express optimism. We are at a decisive crossroads, they say — a time to ask ourselves fundamental questions:
What makes a good life?
How can we live within planetary limits?
And how can we ensure that all people on this planet have the chance to lead meaningful lives?
What do you think?
Recommended reading:
“Slow Down or Die: The Economics of Degrowth” by Timothée Parrique
“Affluence and Freedom” by Pierre Charbonnier
