I want to excerpt a discussion from a book by Kengo Kuma called “Negative Architecture” about Keynesianism, which was my first intuitive understanding of Keynesianism. Because Kengo Kuma is a bourgeois architect, much of what he discusses in this book is fundamentally false or暴论 (extreme rhetoric). However, I will try to criticize Kuma’s errors from my current, more correct perspective and stance, learning through critique.

When the volume of a building exceeds a certain critical value, it will alert people. As early as Greek and Roman times, there were norms and regulations concerning the construction of buildings. However, the real restrictions on buildings were only introduced in the early 20th century. In 1784, Paris proposed regulations limiting building shapes, but it was the 1916 zoning system in New York, implemented to prevent high-rise buildings from damaging the cityscape, that became the prototype of today’s building codes. Nevertheless, despite restrictions on the shape of buildings, there were no limits on the building activities themselves. Throughout the 20th century, people continuously built buildings at an unprecedented pace. To summarize the 20th century as the “Century of Architecture” is not an exaggeration.
Buildings have become oversupplied. Despite this, the construction industry was not only unrestrained but also periodically stimulated by incentives to revive the declining demand.
Society is closely related to architecture. In fact, compared to buildings themselves, society needs architectural behavior more. Therefore, society will never stop the proliferation of buildings regardless of how much they flood the environment. The construction industry must be encouraged from start to finish.
This naturally leads to two types of incentives: one is housing mortgage policies; the other is government fiscal actions proposed by John Maynard Keynes. After World War I, the US, troubled by housing issues, officially launched housing policies. During this period, European and American countries faced serious housing shortages, but their measures differed greatly. European countries systematically built public collective housing, constructing five million units in the 1920s alone. The US actively encouraged individuals to build independent private homes. In 1934, the US established the Federal Housing Administration (FHA), responsible for managing long-term, low-interest loans covering over 80% of construction costs, with favorable tax rates. This policy aimed to awaken and stimulate individual building desires, contrasting with European practices of government-provided housing—this is what we call incentives for the construction industry.
What results did these two very different measures produce? Because housing was easy to obtain and rent was low, it was unlikely to inspire Europeans to work actively. To truly increase their labor enthusiasm and promote consumption, other measures such as mandatory holiday systems were necessary. The US housing policy was hugely successful. People worked diligently to repay their mortgages, almost like slaves. Moreover, those burdened with mortgages showed conservative political tendencies, which helped maintain political stability. Clearly, the US housing policy was effective both economically and politically. Not only the economy but also the entire society, including politics, welcomed housing construction.
Le Corbusier, in his 1923 book “Towards a New Architecture” (see Figure 2), concluded with the famous phrase “Architecture or Revolution”. This phrase perfectly encapsulates the book’s critique of old architecture and the declaration of modernist architecture’s revolutionary emergence. However, a close reading reveals that it was the mortgage system that fulfilled Le Corbusier’s prophecy. As a revolutionary figure using anti-establishment rhetoric to become a star, Le Corbusier would likely be furious to see this. Yet, those middle-class people who obtained private housing through mortgages had long abandoned revolutionary ideals, happily marching with conservatives—this indeed proved the phrase “Architecture or Revolution”.
US policies showed their effects, and the number of housing units rapidly increased. In 1933, 93,000 housing starts; in 1934, the FHA was established; by 1940, this number soared to 603,000 units, greatly promoting economic development. Not only did investment in the construction industry itself increase significantly, but people also spent large sums on related goods—curtains, furniture, appliances, gardens, etc. Once the desire to build private homes arose, people often lost rationality, blindly satisfying desires beyond actual needs.
If we see the US housing mortgage policy as a tool to combat economic crises, then Keynes’s public investment proposals were a massive dose of stimulants aimed at the same goal. His 1936 book “The General Theory of Employment, Interest and Money” outlined the early form of 20th-century fiscal policy, showing how government investment in “large-scale” architecture could create effective demand. Keynes believed that fiscal input into public buildings and civil engineering could promote prosperity and energize the economy. He used the term “multiplier” to describe how effective demand would generate several times the fiscal input; in the long run, it would accompany economic prosperity, increase tax revenues, and offset the initial expenditure. He confidently declared that capitalism had found an epoch-making solution to its greatest structural flaw—economic crises. Keynes’s ideas greatly influenced subsequent 20th-century economic policies, especially the New Deal in the US and postwar Japan’s economic policies.
Why did Keynes gain such widespread and strong support in the 20th century? Just as the US maximized the magic of housing as a building form, Keynes was also familiar with the characteristics and magic of the construction industry and exploited it fully. Architecture indeed has such a magic. The two main policies supporting the power base of the 20th century—housing policy and public utility policy—are both based on the magic of architecture. From this perspective, the 20th century can be called the “Century of Architecture.” But why do power and architecture form this co-existence?
First, buildings are large and visually striking, which is highly symbolic. Imagine, besides buildings, what else has a large volume and a visually tangible shape? The vast land is incomparable, but it lacks the solid and visual characteristics of buildings. Buildings’ large volume and visual impact allow them to influence their surroundings even at the planning stage—they inspire anticipation and imagination, triggering what Keynes called the “multiplier effect.” More importantly, for the entire economy at that time, the impact of public buildings was significant.
As mentioned earlier, the main reasons for people’s dislike of buildings are their large appearance and material consumption. Yet Keynes turned these negative factors into positive economic effects—a kind of magical, clever reversal. He did not see architecture as resource-consuming but as a steady and honest act promoting social development. He also believed that consumption was the only commendable and encouraging behavior. Therefore, he proposed to the British government, somewhat jokingly, to bury banknotes in waste pits. He explained that this would create jobs for manual labor, and since the banknotes would be buried, their quantity would decrease sharply, increasing demand for money. In his mind, there was no concept of limited material and energy resources. In the early 20th century, even knowledgeable people like him had a weak concept of environmental limits. Naturally, he also lacked the concept of resource consumption.
Thus, in abstract theories detached from reality, various hypotheses were proposed and bold calculations made, which were then applied recklessly to reality—this is the true face of 20th-century scholarship and science. When we see many large buildings standing on vast land based on Keynesian theory, we cannot help but think of this reckless calculation method, which is so lacking in rigor. The term “box” accurately reflects these irresponsible calculations, causing unease. This oversimplified result, detached from complex reality, was easily transformed into tangible forms through architecture, suddenly thrown into a complex and fragile reality, which is truly frightening. People call this uncomfortable feeling “box.”
Keynes’s theory is like a magic trick, a deception. It merely reverses the negative factors of architecture into positive ones—tricking people into believing everything is positive. It does not seek practical solutions for scale, material, or energy issues; it assumes the existence of a hypothetical “building” far removed from reality, then uses tricks like a chess game to turn negatives into positives, making us believe that all problems around buildings in this detached state have been resolved.
More deceitfully, Keynes also used the guise of “architecture for the weak.” He said public works are for the weak. Similarly, housing mortgage policies also use rhetoric claiming they are for the weak without housing. Refuting these lies is difficult. Keynes’s theories are reinforced by the pretense of “weakness,” leaving little room for rebuttal. When someone proposes public works in impoverished areas without roads, how can we oppose? When someone says welfare facilities are needed for the elderly, we can only agree. In such cases, proposals to build structures often gain unexpected support.
The weak are an independent entity. Just like architecture is an independent entity, so are the weak. In fact, we know there are no absolute weak in the world; what seems weak in one environment may appear strong in another. Yet Keynes completely severed this subtle relationship, presumably to continue fabricating his so-called “weakness”. Interestingly, 20th-century politicians also cleverly exploited the existence of weakness. Politicians colluding with architectural privileges first appeared as agents of the weak, fully utilizing the logic of weakness to control architecture and ultimately gain privileges.
For politicians relying on modern electoral systems, the scale of architectural behavior (large-scale) is highly attractive. Large-scale projects can more easily raise the huge funds needed for elections, and those involved in construction or closely linked to such projects tend to support politicians through votes.
Thus, in this sense, the “large” characteristic of buildings was transformed from a negative to a positive factor. Under the active intervention of politicians armed with the logic of weakness, the scale of public works continuously expanded. Since it has no real connection to the actual economy or the multiplier effect, it leads to unlimited fiscal deficits, ultimately reaching an unmanageable level. This vicious cycle is induced by the logic of weakness.
People often say this situation is political erosion of the economy, or that it is the result of political populism. It is clear that even in the 20th century, when the economy was so dominant, there was no equal relationship between politics and economics. Of course, blaming only politics is unfair; the flawed economic logic provided opportunities for politics. Unfortunately, today’s culture still has no immunity to this low-level “weakness logic.”
20th-century literature constantly discovered and created various “weak” entities. Just as 20th-century architecture, disconnected from the environment, gained independence and purity as a work, 20th-century literature also gained purity by separating “weak” from reality. “Weakness” here again becomes a product of severance. Although we know there are no absolute weak in the world, finding a literary topic that honestly faces “weakness,” points out that in certain environments the so-called weak can sometimes be strong, and attempts to rescue weak from isolation is extremely difficult. 20th-century literature seems to have been used to uncritically reinforce the social system of “public works for the weak.” Politics, architecture, and literature have cleverly established mutually exploiting relationships.
Shoddy literature reinforces superficial science and ultimately turns these shoddy ideas into reality. It is precisely the architects who, in this process, manifest these shoddy ideas in architecture. In this process, what we should be surprised about is that no one has ever questioned how architecture should exist. Of course, questions about why to build, whether there is a need, etc., are asked. Also, some calculate the political and economic impacts of constructing a building. However, strangely, questions about how to build, what form the building should take, how to control its quality, etc., are ignored and not seriously discussed.
If a building is just an independent entity, it might be normal that these questions are not asked. After all, evaluating an independent entity that is completely disconnected from its environment using standards based on the surrounding environment is somewhat forced. People focus on the effect of segmentation, leading to an abnormal state never seen before. As a result, the quality of 20th-century architecture is almost the worst in history. Compared to achievements in other fields, the decline of architecture is hard to face. Of course, in terms of quantity, architecture has made undeniable progress, even called the “Century of Architecture,” but in terms of quality, the current state of architecture is truly appalling. Ignoring the value of architecture itself and only emphasizing the value of architectural behavior has begun to have consequences.
Fortunately, this situation has greatly improved. Architecture has encountered an unprecedented resurgence. Society has begun to realize that buildings are essential for human survival, but at the same time, they see architecture as an enemy of society. The term “rebound” is most appropriate to describe this situation. The previously stimulated architectural desires due to incentives are now rapidly receding.
There are many reasons or motives for this change. First, accumulated experience. Many people have worked in architecture and have lived in buildings they constructed. They not only have experience in building but also in living and using buildings. They see buildings as part of an infinitely extending spatiotemporal continuum, not as isolated entities disconnected from the environment. Constructing a building is extremely brief—so brief that it can be called a moment. In comparison, the building’s use lasts much longer. This is a characteristic of architecture. Why do we continue to invest large sums of money and energy into buildings after their completion? Although life changes rapidly, buildings do not change and cannot be remedied. Still, we must keep pouring money and energy into buildings.
How many of the housing and public works projects in the 20th century were mentally prepared for these costs before starting? Once construction begins, people inevitably face this reality. Often, a building suddenly appears before us, attracting attention because architecture is a non-continuous act—it can be completed in a very short time. For example, after the Hanshin-Awaji earthquake, the issue of double loans became a hot topic. Because of the earthquake, some lost their homes before paying off their mortgages, and to regain housing, they had to reapply for loans. They had to bear the burden of double repayment. This is truly tragic. It should be noted that Keynes himself once paid insufficient attention to the concept of time in his theories. Someone once questioned Keynes: “In the long run, your theory is of no help.” His answer was: “In the long run, everything will have disappeared.” This is a wise and thought-provoking answer. It shows he still did not transcend the idea of severance, nor did he surpass the imagination of severance. Keynes frankly admitted that his theory was essentially a repetition of short-term prescriptions—that is, his concept of time is disconnected and fragmented, and this fragmented moment, through repeated cycles, sustains the continuity of time. This is his view of time.
What is called experience is merely an imagination of time. As this imagination of time deepens and becomes more detailed, the flaws of housing mortgage policies and Keynesian theories are exposed.
Similarly, through precise calculations of scale, many loopholes of 20th-century architecture have been revealed. As mentioned above, the size of buildings is the basis of Keynesian theory; his idea is to use large and visually striking objects to drive political and economic development. Because of their size, they naturally generate multiplier effects and can elevate economic indicators. However, today, both the scale of the economy and the speed of economic development have far surpassed what Keynes’s era could compare to. Barriers dividing national economies have been eliminated, and the concept of “globalization” reflects the interdependence of the world economy, causing a qualitative change in economic scale. In the entire economic field, the presence of architecture has become negligible, and naturally, we can no longer expect such a tiny element to promote the multiplier effect of economic development. The scale of architecture itself has shrunk, and from an economic perspective, its significance is vastly different from before. In short, buildings can no longer exist independently as they once did; they must interact with the outside world in various ways. Measuring building scale or expecting it to be large has lost its meaning. In today’s era, everything—time, space, matter—is tightly interconnected, and the era of division and independence is gone forever.
The reasons for the existence of architecture no longer exist, and the act of expecting architectural results has also lost its meaning, so buildings naturally face resistance. Does this mean buildings are no longer necessary? Are buildings indispensable or dispensable in our lives? The goal of this book is to thoroughly resolve this question. In the early 20th century, when the US proposed housing mortgage policies and Keynes was popular in Europe, some also raised similar questions: Are buildings necessary or dispensable? Of course, at that time, only questions were asked, and no one raised related issues such as: if buildings are necessary, what exactly are these buildings? In short, the answer at that time was: buildings are necessary no matter what. For society to develop steadily, for capitalism to continue, and to prevent revolution, buildings are indispensable. In summary, construction is essential. This is a shallow answer to the above questions. At that time, it was believed that separating architecture from the environment was necessary, and that buildings independent of the environment were essential. Society has developed according to this answer, up to now, and continues to develop.