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GREENWASHING

All the human and animal manure which the world wastes, if returned to the land, instead of being thrown into the sea, would suffice to nourish the world.

VICTOR HUGO

Saving the planet has become an intense topic of popular and political debate. What you may not know is that for decades, the means to this end has been deceptively marketed to consumers, often to the detriment of the cause. The architecture and building industry has been as complicit as anyone.

Since the environmental movement of the ’60s, and the founding in 1970 of both the first Earth Day and the EPA, most people have been aware of myriad things they could do to make the world an ecologically sounder place, from recycling to using unleaded gasoline. Madison Avenue has exploited our desire to do good—or to be seen as doing good.

In the 1980s, a researcher discovered that those ubiquitous tent cards in hotel bathrooms asking us to use the bath towels a second or third day were an attempt to appear environmentally conscious when the real intention was to increase profit by saving on hotel operating costs. (I also wonder if those cards cost more in nonrecycled card stock and non-petroleum-based ink than any possible operational savings.)

The term “greenwashing” was coined as a result and now applies to marketing attempts intended to deceive the public, to give products a “green sheen.”

It got so bad that the Federal Trade Commission had to step in. Here is just one passage of the green guidelines set by the FTC: “Overstatement of environmental attribute: An environmental marketing claim should not be presented in a manner that overstates the environmental attribute or benefit, expressly or by implication. Marketers should avoid implications of significant environmental benefits if the benefit is in fact negligible.”

In my world, there has been a concerted effort by the government to issue guidelines, incentives, and certification to architects and builders for “green” buildings. I am a LEED-accredited architect, meaning I have passed a lengthy and detailed test created by the U.S. Green Building Council (USGBC). On its website, the USGBC defines LEED as follows: “LEED, or Leadership in Energy & Environmental Design, is transforming the way we think about how our buildings and communities are designed, constructed, maintained and operated across the globe. Comprehensive and flexible, LEED is a green building tool that addresses the entire building lifecycle recognizing best-in-class building strategies. At its core, LEED is a program that provides third-party verification of green buildings. Building projects satisfy prerequisites and earn points to achieve different levels of certification.” The USGBC site goes on to list a point system for achieving silver, gold, or platinum LEED status for a building, with every possible aspect taken into consideration, from advanced cooling systems to ecofriendly building materials, from low-water-use landscaping to, yes, the ubiquitous solar panel.

In the best and sincerest way possible, I believe in being a steward for the environment, both the physical and the social. Aside from the exciting flights of artistic fancy in architectural design, architects are trained to provide, at a minimum, shelter that takes into consideration life, safety, security, and human welfare.

This broad and simple premise covers many subcategories such as aesthetics, budget, construction techniques, and material research. Specific to this discussion, I believe that practicing as a professional in the field of architecture means the responsible acknowledgment and handling of our environment, society, and culture for the next and succeeding generations. This position is a matter not just of ethics or virtue but also of common sense and decency.

Here’s the catch.

Building “green” has become a necessary bragging right and sometimes a misleading marketing position to attract customers. Greenwashing can take the form of companies who change the names of their products to sound greener, add a green banner to their website, and then call themselves leaders in the green industry. Such companies spend more dollars in creating the spin and aura of being green than in bona fide research to support the supposed environmental benefits of their projects.

For example, some architectural products now sold as green are the same as their “pregreen” ancestors. Precast-concrete items are now marketed as “Enviro Sand Resin” or “Eco-Panels” that can achieve a “10-Point Green Premiere Certification of Carbon Neutrality and Reduced Emissions.” This sounds great—except that the concrete-manufacturing company invented that ranking.

Another concrete company’s website lists the LEED points its concrete can earn the builder, which is perfectly valid, but the site would benefit further from additional links to lighting, roofing, and other suppliers to fill in the bigger picture.

On the positive side, LEED standards really can lower the carbon footprint of a building. Still, most good architects were practicing green design before sustainability became an agenda.

I think of my friend Nicole, whose father was an architect in Australia. As an example of his green design, which he never labeled as such or cared to do so, he went to great lengths to limit or eliminate any construction material waste, which is one of the most basic foundations of being green. Every piece of wood was from a standard length of lumber or sheet of plywood off the shelf, not custom fabricated. Calculations in advance resulted in fewer waste pieces, and scraps were used down to the nub. Never discarded, remaining pieces of materials were all used creatively in his design.

Nicole’s father possessed the incredible intelligence, meticulous planning, and painstaking attention of an architect who had patience and just believed this was the way things should be done. This architect did not call himself a green architect, did not have his logo printed in green on recycled paper with soy-based ink, and did not market his approach as better than anyone else’s. For him, this was just professional architecture and common sense.

Competition for projects has increased, and the commitment to being green has become integral to marketing. In recent years, most public projects dependent on state funds have required the architect to be LEED-accredited and the project to be LEED-certified, whether the client had an understanding of all the requirements or not. As an incentive, some jurisdictions offer an expedited permitting process to projects that are intended to be LEED-certified or meet the city-authored independent green standards.

Why am I concerned? This is all good, right?

The end result is good in terms of the heightened awareness of the benefits of green living—and yes, some truly more efficient buildings—but are they the best they can be, and is there a sincere desire to be green, or just to be seen as green? When we were designing a new preschool in California, some committee members asked, “How much does it cost to get the solar panels we need to get the LEED rating?”

The certification process of a building is like receiving a report card, where the building is scored by an authorized agent and provided a LEED rating based on site design, efficient water usage, energy conservation, responsible use of materials and resources, and quality of indoor air and light. The LEED design and certification are broad and comprehensive, not limited to how many solar panels fit on the roof.

I obtained my LEED Green Associate accreditation in 2009 because, at the time, clients wanted proof that their architect was green. LEED accreditation was the only legitimate national stamp of approval that clients understood.

The portfolio of our completed works that are sustainable, the performance ratings of our projects, and the recommendations of past clients were not as relevant or as convincing as seeing the four letters L-E-E-D after my name on my business cards. I could spend hours explaining how our work is inherently environmentally conscious—but instead I just point to the LEED after my name.

In fact, the remaining challenge in many cases is to explain why a LEED building would cost more to construct but save money over time. Every piece of a building can be greener—and more costly—beyond the myopia associated with solar panels. A countertop made of recycled glass and stone may not be cheaper, but its recycled content reuses materials that would otherwise be tossed out as trash. Part of green architecture is using local materials, not unlike the local farm-to-table approach. Shipping marble from Italy consumes a lot of energy.

We create charts that show how the costs are earned back over time. We don’t greenwash; we are up front about every aspect that truly makes for a better, environmentally conscious building with a healthier environment for the people who use it. It is important to understand how a building impacts the environment, individuals, and communities now and in the future.

We all know how everything from hybrid cars to iPhones sucks up rare earth minerals and consumes vast amounts of energy to produce. I look forward to the day when green products are manufactured in a green manner, when the price of everyday green products will be affordable to all. Someday, the green-colored window cleaner will not be twice the price of the blue-colored window cleaner.

When I’m as good as my friend’s father, I’ll use every scrap of wood and glass with 0 percent waste.

When I stop getting asked, first thing, about solar panels.