The warnings of the ‘Club of Rome’ were received as an ‘unpleasant truth’, particularly in the West, where mass consumerism was now fueling a postwar economic boom.
Part of the group of 17 scientists who published their findings in the book The Limits to Growth, 1972. From left to right: Jørgen Randers, Jay Forrester, Donella Meadows, Dennis Meadows, William Behrens. Photo from The Club of Rome official website.
The ‘Club of Rome’ was a private organization of well-known thought leaders, but none of them was well connected to politics. As a result, they failed to achieve their goal of ‘alerting the world to the gravity of the situation and encouraging governments to take concrete action.’
In fact, they achieved the very opposite, because their computer simulation had been too simplistic, and the data fed into their model turned out to be partially incorrect. Furthermore, it did not take into consideration the fact that evolving technology would likely mitigate some of the effects that were predicted. ‘Critics’ pounced on the model, declaring its findings inconclusive, which was news that many, including politicians, were more than happy to accept. The substance of the report’s highly plausible warning was conveniently ignored, and the publication faded from public consciousness soon after its release.
Renewed interest in the issue of materials and sustainability arose after 1987, following the publication of a report entitled Our Common Future, also known as the Brundtland Report. This one was produced under the auspices of the United Nations by the World Commission on Environment and Development, chaired by Gro Brundtland, an internationally renowned politician. It was a somewhat more polished affair than ‘The Limits to Growth’, and thus more carefully worded. Moreover, the subject of population growth—as a phenomenon at the heart of sustainability problems—was completely avoided.
Nevertheless, the issue of the ‘finite supply of resources’ was laid out very clearly, and this prompted action in several countries, including the Netherlands.
The report also raised a new issue: emissions, particularly SO₂ emissions (which cause forest degradation) and NOₓ emissions (which cause soil acidification, a problem the Netherlands is currently still facing in a somewhat different form).
Climate change was barely mentioned, but ozone (O₃) was named as a greenhouse gas. CO₂ emissions were – at the time of publication – seen as a potential problem that needed further investigation. The report prompted the establishment of the IPCC (International Panel on Climate Change), but the panel’s first few reports (1990, 1993 and 1995) were still riddled with uncertainty. However, the Kyoto Protocol with the first goals for the reduction of CO₂ was adopted already a few years later (in 1997)
The Brundtland report managed to accomplish what the report Our Common Future failed to do earlier. It generated a positive response, particularly in the design community. Among the countries leading the charge was the Netherlands, where a manual (The Manual for Environmentally Conscious Design) was produced. It was adopted by eight companies in a series of admittedly heavily subsidized pilot programs named PROMISE projects (1992).
The manual contained a list of Life-Cycle Design (LiDS) strategies that focused heavily on materials (contains them still, as LiDS remain very much in use):
The PROMISE projects were in themselves a great success, particularly in regard to strategies 1, 3, and 5, thus demonstrating how much can be achieved in next to no time even in typically conservative business environments.
However, all attempts to replicate this success in regular business operations failed, because the projects had been established as isolated entities whose operation typically relied on ‘external’ support. Thus, once a project had demonstrated its validity, the team assigned to it was simply disbanded. Consequently, none of the learnings from the project were integrated into the processes and procedures of the participating companies, thus ensuring continuity of practice.
In addition, the product development departments of the participating companies were often poorly informed about the strategies. Other departments, including those responsible for product management, knew even less. This resulted in considerable resistance to any suggestions of change. As a result, all efforts ended with the production of a single prototype.
The experience shows that strategies for environmentally conscious design are not enough when executed in isolation. Managers and employees belonging to the various parts of the complete internal value chain of a business must at the very least accept the concept of environmentally conscious design and, if possible, internalize it to the extent that it becomes both standard practice and self-evident. For such purpose an organization needs ‘champions of environmental design’ who can lead by example. Such champions need primarily to be considered as ‘one of us’ and not to be parachuted from outside Being one of the greatest environmental designers is not a first requirement.
has become a reference document of everything relating to the environment that designers need to consider in the course of their work. However, practical implementation of the recommendations therein has turned out to be a slow learning process. People wanting to move forward in the field typically have to start by asking: ‘why are things as they are’ and what can be done to make things better from an environmental perspective?’ The answers to such questions lead to the first ‘environmental action agenda’. Because of the way such an agenda has been developed it is easily understandable. Moreover, acceptance within the organization is guaranteed. Once the first successes on the basis of such an agenda have been achieved, more and more sophistication can be built into subsequent versions. This way, the organization ‘is taken by the hand’. Therefore, the real successful approach appears to be: ‘learn to walk before you run, and perhaps with sufficient training, you may win the race.’
Inspired by the manual, designers burning with environmental zeal wanted—and still often want—to go whole hog immediately, but that just doesn’t work in practice. This tension between ambition and reality goes to the very heart of the drama of environmentally conscious design that has played out in various ways over the past three decades. Let’s hope we don’t witness a repeat of this in the implementation of sustainable and circular design!
Albert (“Ab”) Stevels studied Chemical Engineering at the Technical University of Eindhoven and took a PhD degree in Physics and Chemistry at Groningen University. He has worked for Royal Philips Electronics in manifold capacities in materials research, glass production technology, as a business manager in electro-optics, and as a project manager for joint ventures and licensing in Asia. These experiences helped him develop the concept of Applied EcoDesign and integrate it into day-to-day business operations. He has also conducted a great deal of in-depth research on the treatment of discarded electronics, the findings of which helped lay the groundwork for setting up take-back and recycling systems at Philips NL. In 1995 Ab was appointed professor in Environmental Design at Delft University of Technology. He has had visiting professorships at several universities including Stanford University, TU Berlin, Georgia Institute of Technology, NTN University in Trondheim, and Tsinghua University in Beijing. He also worked with the University of Sao Paulo to develop an MBA program and Sustainability course.
Stevels is the author of some 200 journal articles and conference contributions. For more on his experiences with green design and in-house management of ‘eco’ and e-waste, see his book Adventures in EcoDesign of Electronic Products.
Sustainable or greenwashing?