Accelerating Action: A Holistic Approach to Net Zero and Sustainability
At the recent seminar at Sheppard Robson Architects, the panel—which included Sarah Allan (Head of Architecture, Ministry of Housing, Communities and Local Government), Helena Rivers (Net Zero Lead, AECOM), Lee Bennett (Partner, Sheppard Robson), and Joanna Yarrow (Chief Impact Officer, Human Nature)—discussed one of the most critical challenges facing architecture and urban planning today: what are the most urgent steps to improve our chances of achieving net zero while building the cities, neighbourhoods, and homes we need? The conversation highlighted several essential factors—public support, policy innovation, professional education, and the need for a holistic, large-scale approach—all of which must align to meet this ambitious target.
Inevitably, the discussion meandered through various topics for some time before, at least in my mind, converging on a seemingly shared view of the critical issues and the most urgent actions and reforms.
1. Start with a Vision
A key takeaway was that sustainability must operate on a scale much broader than individual buildings. It cannot be achieved one building at a time by well-intentioned designers; it must be a comprehensive vision permeating all aspects of life. Joanna Yarrow from Human Nature illustrated this point with her experience of living in Malmö, where sustainable transport and services are fully integrated into the city’s fabric. There, a mother can cycle to work on wide, safe cycle routes, drop her children at nursery—rain or shine—rely on a transit system designed around walking and cycline, down to the detail of a thoughtfully placed canopy.
I don’t know Malmö that well, but it did remind me of my time in nearby Copenhagen as a visiting PhD student. A German colleague of mine, who split her time between Copenhagen and Berlin, used to say, “When I come to Copenhagen, it’s like stepping into a five-star hotel!” Blue cycle path, actioned doors into bike stores, even footrests for cyclists and junctions. Of course, this modern-day Copenhagen is the product of decades of policies, from the post-war finger plan to Jan Gehl’s human-centred urbanism of the 1980s and ’90s—often involving unpopular measures. It’s an example that shows the importance of a vision.
Copenhagen’s Finger Plan 1947 Transit-drive urbanism
As Sarah Allan rightly emphasised, having public support is crucial. Numbers alone—especially when they focus on restrictions—can alienate people rather than engage them. A proactive and positive vision like Malmo’s or Copenhagen’s can unite and meaningfully engage the public. And, of course, we’re not starting from scratch; this vision has informed so much planning and design over the last few decades, but it remains too fragmented and still competes with car culture. The government, as always, plays a critical role in setting the tone and shaping the policies around it.
2. Implementation at a Wider Scale
However, policies are not sufficient on their own. The education of professionals and civil servants who implement these policies is just as important. Planners, in particular, find themselves at the tricky crossroads of vision and metrics—ensuring the delivery of housing while assessing the sustainability of proposals beyond individual buildings. The conversation highlighted the difficulties in this area, with Helena Rivers from AECOM explaining how even agreeing on a definition of net zero across different scales remains a significant challenge. Here, the recent launch of the UK Net Zero Carbon Buildings Standard is a step forward.
3. Finally, the Buildings
And finally to construction, where Helena Rivers and Lee Bennett of Sheppard Robson made two points I passionately believe in. Firstly, the importance of prioritising retrofit without creating high carbon emissions—essentially avoiding scenarios where the carbon cost of retrofitting negates the benefits. (Our work on nomoregas.org is done in this spirit.) Secondly, they noted how some of the best designers and engineers are practically shut out of large-scale housing delivery, which is predominantly geared towards mass production. Inevitably, the discussion turned to the housing crisis and the target of delivering 350,000 homes per year. While this might initially seem to complicate things further, it doesn’t have to. The real issue is that we cannot deliver this number of houses at low density and with minimal sustainability targets while staying within our carbon limits. Instead, we must return to the vision of a sustainable lifestyle that works for everyone: higher densities, integrated public and cycle transport, and better buildings.
It seems we simply (though not easily) need to commit to a coherent project and work together to implement it as swiftly as possible.
Learning from Copenhagen
Copenhagen’s success as a model of sustainable urbanism is rooted in its Finger Plan, a transit-oriented development strategy introduced in 1947. The plan structured the city’s growth along five ‘fingers’ extending from the city centre, each connected by public transport routes and surrounded by green spaces. This design ensured that development focused on transit hubs, promoting efficient public transport use and limiting urban sprawl. It’s a classic example of transit-driven urbanism, where urban growth and transportation are planned hand-in-hand.
Fast forward to the 1980s and ’90s, and Jan Gehl’s work built upon this foundation, shifting focus to human-centred urbanism. Gehl, a Danish architect and urban designer, advocated for reclaiming streets for pedestrians and cyclists. His research highlighted the importance of public spaces prioritising people over cars, and his interventions transformed Copenhagen into one of the most bike-friendly cities in the world. The city’s blue cycle lanes, car-free streets, and thoughtful street furniture—like footrests for cyclists at intersections—are a direct result of Gehl’s approach. His work demonstrated how strategic planning and a commitment to liveability can create a thriving, sustainable urban environment.
The Evolution of “Acoustic” Architecture: Beyond the Visual
Architecture is often discussed in purely visual terms—façades, silhouettes, and how buildings interact with light. However, the real defining quality of architecture is the deeper, multisensory experience that spaces offer. At our practice, we frequently return to Le Corbusier’s concept of “acoustic” architecture, which shifts the conversation from what we see to how we experience space with the whole body. This idea opens up a richer dialogue, one that acknowledges the role of organic shapes, movement, sound, touch, and light in shaping our interaction with the built environment.
Le Corbusier’s use of the term “acoustic” goes beyond technical sound properties; instead, it refers to how space resonates emotionally and physically with those who inhabit it. In Le Poème de l’Angle Droit (The Poem of the Right Angle), Le Corbusier wrote about how his Chapel of Notre-Dame-du-Haut at Ronchamp, with its sweeping curves and dynamic forms, creates a dialogue with the landscape. He stated that architecture should act as an “acoustic receiver” of the hills, valleys, and sky surrounding the chapel (Le Corbusier, 1955). He spoke of a “phenomenon of visual acoustics” where the building was meant to capture and reflect the visual and emotional vibrations of the landscape itself. The landscape and chapel were designed to become one, creating a spiritual and sensory experience for visitors, much like how sound reverberates through a space. Light pours in at different angles, and shadows shift throughout the day, offering a dynamic interaction between the architecture and its surroundings. The design forces the occupant to experience the space beyond just visual observation—it must be moved through, felt, and sensed.
Similarly, we strive to create what we call “acoustic” spaces—spaces that move beyond the visual and engage the full spectrum of human perception. Whether working within the constraints of Victorian terraces or experimenting with more open, fluid forms, our goal is to challenge conventional orthogonality and introduce new layers of resonance into our work.
Image: Ronchamp Chapel, Dezeen
A bit of Neuroscience, why not?
The connection between architecture and the body is not just theoretical; it is grounded in the way our brains process space. Cognitive neuroscience tells us that the brain processes space through multiple sensory pathways, engaging vision, sound, touch, and proprioception (Graziano & Gross, 1998). The hippocampus, which plays a critical role in navigation and memory, works with the parahippocampal gyrus to help us understand where we are in space and how we move through it (Ekstrom et al., 2003). Additionally, the amygdala is involved in evaluating our emotional responses to our surroundings—whether we feel safe, comfortable, or anxious in a given environment (Phelps & LeDoux, 2005).
Research in cognitive science shows that humans respond more positively to organic, curvilinear forms than to sharp, rectilinear ones. This can be traced back to our evolutionary past when humans lived in environments filled with natural, irregular forms—trees, rivers, hills—where these shapes often indicated safety and refuge (Joye, 2007). In contrast, jagged edges and sharp angles are associated with danger (think of cliffs or thorny plants). Our brains are wired to interpret these forms differently, with curved spaces activating the brain’s reward systems, including the orbitofrontal cortex, which is responsible for aesthetic appreciation and pleasure (Vartanian et al., 2013). Studies using fMRI have shown that these areas of the brain are more engaged when people view curvilinear spaces instead of rectilinear environments.
However, the desire for clarity and orientation is equally important. Kevin Lynch, in his landmark study The Image of the City (1960), identified the importance of legibility in urban environments. Legibility refers to how easily people understand and navigate a city or space. Clarity and predictability in spatial layouts reduce cognitive load, making it easier to orient oneself and move comfortably through an environment. This is where orthogonal grids and rectilinear layouts come into play—they provide clarity and order in what might otherwise be chaotic or confusing spaces.
The Role of Orthogonal Spaces: Efficiency and Calm
Orthogonal spaces, like the grid systems found in Roman cities or the rectilinear layouts of Victorian terraced houses, offer a different kind of spatial experience. They are defined by clarity, predictability, and simplicity. Greek and Roman cities were laid out with orthogonal grids to facilitate navigation and enable efficient construction and urban planning (Rykwert, 1976). These layouts allowed for the easy division of land and the straightforward development of infrastructure, promoting a rational and ordered cityscape. The same principle can be found in the Victorian terraces of London—spaces that prioritised economy and efficiency.
The brain processes orthogonal layouts with ease, given their clear lines and simple geometry. In an increasingly overstimulating world, the simplicity of these layouts can offer a kind of psychological relief. Minimalist, rectilinear spaces are often associated with calmness, as their clear boundaries and comprehensible forms reduce the cognitive effort required to interpret the space (Ching, 2007). For many, the orthogonal layouts found in monastic architecture, for example, offer a sense of peace, providing a quiet, orderly retreat from the noise of modern life.
However, orthogonal spaces can also be limiting if they are not balanced with more dynamic elements. While clarity and predictability are essential for orientation, they don’t always engage the senses or emotions as organic, flowing forms do. This is where the tension between orthogonality and fluidity becomes critical. Architects often aim to balance the efficiency and simplicity of rectilinear spaces with the emotional richness of more complex, curvilinear forms.
Having studied and worked in Italy and Spain, this train of thought brings me back to several Spanish and Italian architects who have explored the balance between orthogonal clarity and organic fluidity in their work, often creating spaces that, like Le Corbusier’s, resonate emotionally with their inhabitants.
Antoni Coderch, a major figure in Catalan modernism, is known for his sensitivity to the lived experience of space. A great admirer of Gio Ponti, his Barceloneta apartment building is composed of a sequence of angled surfaces from the inside to the façade (Samper & Capitel, 1992). The architecture school building where I attended was originally a modernist slab building and then extended by Coderch with a sequence of curved spaces stepping down to adapt to the landscape.
Elias Torres and José Antonio Martínez Lapeña took a similar approach in their work, not only in public projects but also in private homes and apartment buildings. Their residential designs often feature non-orthogonal layouts and organic forms that enhance the sensory experience of the inhabitants (Torres & Martínez Lapeña, 1993). The subtle shifts in geometry make the spaces feel alive, constantly engaging the senses as people move through them. Their work demonstrates how manipulating form can transform even conventional residential buildings into deeply sensory and emotional experiences.
In the same generation as Elias Torres in Barcelona, architects like Josep Llinàs, Lluís Clotet, and Carme Ribas have also been experimenting with non-orthogonal solutions. Josep Llinàs has explored complex geometries in both public and private projects, creating spaces that challenge conventional perceptions of form and function (Llinàs, 2008). Lluís Clotet’s work often incorporates irregular layouts and fluid forms, adding layers of richness to the architectural experience (Clotet & Tusquets, 1985). Carme Ribas focuses on how subtle deviations from orthogonality can create more engaging and humane spaces (Ribas, 2010). Collectively, these architects contribute to a tradition in Barcelona of pushing the boundaries of conventional design, exploring how non-orthogonal geometries can enhance the phenomenology of architecture.
Enric Miralles, another Catalan architect, took these ideas even further. His Scottish Parliament Building in Edinburgh and the Santa Caterina Market in Barcelona are both extreme experiments in the composition and construction of fluid, organic forms (Rowe, 2005). Miralles’ use of undulating lines and complex geometries creates a sense of movement and energy that makes the spaces feel dynamic, rich and joyful. These buildings act as landscapes and environments that change and evolve as people move through them, creating a constantly shifting experience.
In Italy, among others, Gio Ponti and Luigi Caccia Dominioni also explored how non-orthogonal layouts can create acoustic resonance in residential architecture. Ponti’s Villa Planchart in Caracas, for example, uses flowing interior spaces to create a seamless connection between the occupants and the surrounding landscape (Ponti, 1961). The curves guide movement through the house, making it feel as though the architecture is constantly responding to its environment. Luigi Caccia Dominioni delved deeply into the phenomenology of architecture, focusing on how non-orthogonal flat layouts can influence the lived experience. His research into the emotional and sensory impacts of spatial configurations highlights the importance of considering more than just functional efficiency in design (Irace, 2002).
Top: EMBT (Enric Miralles Benedetta Tagliabue), Mercado de Santa Caterina, Barcelona, 2004
Bottom Torres Lapeña, Casa Gili, Ibiza, 1987
Reconciling Orthogonality and Organic Form
In our practice, we often work within the constraints of pre-existing orthogonal layouts, particularly in Victorian terraces. These spaces are defined by their rectilinear grids, which offer clarity and efficiency but can also feel rigid and confining. We often feel the instinctive urge to test elements that challenge this rigidity, creating moments of fluidity and resonance that engage the senses more fully.
In the House for a Cellist, for instance, we reduced the orthogonal layout of the original Victorian structure to its minimum terms: two party walls and one façade. Within this clear constraint, we introduced geometric forms that break up the rigidity of the space. A triangular wooden prism encloses the stairs and service areas, creating a dynamic centre that contrasts with the straight lines of the surrounding rooms, and enveloping the sitting and rehearsal areas in an acoustic scenography. A circular roof light introduces natural light into the house’s core, softening the rigidity of the acute angles. This combination of orthogonal clarity and curvilinear movement creates an “acoustic” resonance, making the space feel alive and responsive to its occupants.
Similarly, in The Sponge, we took a traditional terraced house and punctured its orthogonal layout with skylights and windows, allowing light to filter deep into the space. The long convex joinery walls guide movement through the house, creating a sense of flow and fluidity within the otherwise rigid structure. The angled joinery wall contains and hides the kitchen and all the other ground floor services. This balance between the clarity of the original structure and the dynamic nature of the interventions transforms the space into something far more engaging.
The Boat Pavilion is another example of how we apply “acoustic” principles. Here, the curved forms evoke the shape of a boat, while the pitched roof—cut at the top to allow light to filter in—expands the sense of space and openness.
Image, The Boat Pavilion
In The Tent on a Hill, we introduced a continuous curved ceiling that stretches the length of the open-plan space. This design choice not only expands the perceived volume of the room but also creates a subtle sense of movement that guides the eye and encourages flow through the space. The fluidity of the ceiling adds dynamism to what could otherwise be a static orthogonal structure, creating an interplay between clarity and acoustic resonance. This combination of fluidity and clarity reinforces the idea that even within rigid, rectilinear spaces, it is possible to introduce moments of sensory and emotional engagement that transform how the space is perceived and inhabited .
Our journey into “acoustic” architecture is an ongoing exploration. Each new project serves as both a challenge and an opportunity to deepen our understanding of how space can resonate with its occupants. We are not merely designing buildings; we are crafting experiences that engage the senses and emotions on multiple levels.
Our upcoming projects aim to push these concepts even further. By experimenting with new materials, forms, and spatial configurations, we hope to expand the vocabulary of acoustic architecture. These endeavors will not only enrich our portfolio but also contribute to a larger body of work that investigates the intersection of human perception and architectural form.
In time, this collection of projects will evolve into an extensive research library—a resource for both our team and the wider architectural community. By documenting our processes, successes, and even our missteps, we aspire to foster a deeper conversation about the role of sensory engagement in design. After all, architecture is not just about walls and roofs; it’s about creating spaces that feel alive, dynamic, and responsive—a truly acoustic experience.
London’s housing market is facing significant challenges, with rising costs, slowing sales, and a drop in new housing starts. House prices have already fallen by 5%, with another 4% drop expected, and when adjusted for inflation, prices have effectively fallen by 20%. With new build sales down by 37%, and construction starts dropping by 60%, the pipeline for new housing is shrinking at a time when demand is still high, particularly for affordable homes.
The government has ambitious plans to boost affordable and social housing, but the question remains: how can this be achieved when the housing market is stagnating and large developers are hesitant to start new projects? One of the answers may lie in small developers—those who focus on smaller sites of 20 units or even less.
The Broader Housing Context: A Market Under Pressure
With planning applications down by 70%, the obstacles facing developers are significant. The end of the Help to Buy scheme has dampened demand for new builds, and domestic buyers are shifting away from smaller, new-build flats in favour of larger, second-hand properties. The typical first-time buyer, now 33 years old and needing a deposit of £500,000, is more likely to opt for a larger, established home rather than a new-build, one-bedroom flat.
Meanwhile, the supply of new homes is shrinking. Large developers are scaling back due to uncertainty and viability challenges, and the pipeline of new projects is drying up. This combination of factors is putting the government’s housing targets at risk, particularly in terms of delivering affordable and social housing.
The Role of Small Developers: A Missed Opportunity?
At Unagru Architecture Urbanism, we believe that small developers could play a crucial role in solving London’s housing crisis. Small-scale projects, typically 30-40 units, offer a unique opportunity to deliver housing that is both affordable and innovative. These smaller sites can often be developed faster and with more flexibility than larger projects, particularly when it comes to infill developments or smaller, underutilised plots of land.
But despite their potential, small developers are often left out of the broader conversation about housing reform. We believe that this is a missed opportunity, and several key questions need to be addressed in order to unlock the full potential of small developments.
Our project on The Broadway, Greenford, will deliver eight new flats.
Key Questions for Unlocking Small Development Potential
1. Should there be a fast-track planning service for small sites?
One of the biggest challenges facing small developers is the planning process. With planning applications down by 70%, it’s clear that the system is not working efficiently, particularly for smaller projects. We believe there should be a fast-track planning service for small sites, enabling quicker approvals and faster delivery of new homes.
This would benefit not only developers but also local communities, as small sites are often well-suited for infill developments, which can add housing units without requiring large-scale regeneration projects. A streamlined planning process could unlock these sites, helping to alleviate the housing shortage without sacrificing quality.
2. Should Section 106 be adjusted to maximise housing delivery on small sites?
Section 106 agreements, which require developers to contribute to affordable housing or community infrastructure, can often be a financial burden for small developers. While these contributions are essential for funding affordable housing, they can make smaller projects financially unviable.
Could Section 106 be adjusted for small developers? Rather than focusing purely on financial contributions, the policy could be more flexible, allowing developers to contribute in different ways—such as through off-site contributions or by partnering with housing associations to deliver affordable homes.
3. Quantity AND quality?
In the rush to meet housing targets, there is a risk that quality will be sacrificed for the sake of quantity. While it’s important to deliver more homes, we believe that small developments offer a unique opportunity to prioritise high-quality, well-designed housing that meets the needs of the community. Smaller sites could benefit from a simplified regulatory and approval process in exchange for more attention to design quality and innovation.
4. Should small developments be a testing ground for higher quality standards?
Currently, there is a lack of scrutiny over the quality of development on small sites. In many cases, there are no qualifications required of builders, and very few checks are in place to ensure the quality of construction. This is a missed opportunity to raise standards across the industry.
We believe that small developments, particularly those with 2-3 units and 9-10 unit projects, could serve as testing grounds for minimum quality certifications for both developers and contractors. By implementing higher standards on small sites, we can begin to build a cohort of new actors in the built environment who are capable of delivering high-quality, affordable housing on a larger scale. This bottom-up approach could help address the skills gap and ensure that the industry evolves in a way that prioritises quality.
5. Should we consider closer ties with the European Union to address the skills shortage?
One of the most pressing issues facing the construction industry is the skills shortage. With Brexit limiting access to skilled workers from the European Union, the construction sector is struggling to fill key roles, driving up costs and slowing down projects. Given this challenge, it may be time to consider closer ties with the EU to ease restrictions on labour movement and help fill the gaps in the workforce.
Addressing the skills shortage is crucial for both large and small developments, ensuring that projects can proceed without unnecessary delays or compromises in quality.
Conclusion: Small Developers, Big Impact
The housing crisis in London is a complex problem that will require bold solutions. While large-scale developments will always play a central role, small developers must also be part of the equation. These smaller projects, which focus on high-quality, community-driven housing, have the potential to meet the needs of younger, middle-class buyers in a way that larger developments cannot.
At Unagru Architecture Urbanism, we are committed to advocating for the role of small developers in solving London’s housing crisis. By fast-tracking planning, adjusting Section 106 agreements, and focusing on quality over quantity, we believe that small developers can unlock new opportunities for growth and innovation in the housing market.
The time has come to ensure that small sites are not just part of the conversation but a central part of the solution.
In our ongoing effort to tackle climate change, the architecture and urbanism community always looks for practical ways to reduce carbon emissions. The Association for Environment Conscious Building (AECB) has developed some fascinating insights through its CarbonLite Retrofit (CLR) standards. They’ve found that these standards, which focus on cost-effective and realistic interventions, can achieve better carbon reductions than even the much-lauded Passivhaus standards. This is a major step forward for sustainability.
The CarbonLite Retrofit Approach: A New Benchmark for Sustainability
The CarbonLite Retrofit (CLR) standards offer a practical framework for significantly reducing energy use in existing buildings. The AECB’s CLR approach emphasises improving the building’s fabric with affordable measures that ensure substantial energy savings and improved thermal comfort. This down-to-earth approach is scalable and accessible, making it suitable for a wide range of buildings and budgets.
The key moves of for a Carbon Lite approach are very similar to what we advise on our www.nomoregas.org
1. An electric energy engine is the most important step towards reducing carbon emissions. Pragmatic and effective actions to reach a degree of insulation that allows the installation of a heat pump are the first considerations. Where heat pumps are impractical, other viable solutions are available at www.nomoregas.org 2. Insulation Requirements: For Step 1 retrofits, recommended measures include cavity wall insulation, 300-400mm loft insulation, and at least double-glazed windows. These ensure that the running costs of heat pumps remain manageable. 3. Ventilation: Installing efficient ventilation systems to maintain indoor air quality while minimising energy use. Proper ventilation prevents moisture build-up and ensures a healthy indoor environment. 4. Step-by-Step Approach: The CLR standards allow for a step-by-step approach to retrofitting, where the process can be done in stages. Step 1 is the minimum permissible step, offering a low-carbon interim measure that can be built upon with deeper fabric retrofits in the future.
Retrofit project in Westminster Mansions, London.
In the top left corner, cables ready to connect the infrared heating (NO gas boilers?). The external wall is ready to breathable insulation and plaster to improve the thermal performance without compromising the building’s thermal and moisture balance.
Key Findings from the Green Register Seminar
During a seminar organised by the Green Register on 12th March 2024, Tim Martel, AECB Standards & Certification Programme Manager, presented findings on the CarbonLite Retrofit standards. The seminar highlighted that the CLR standards produce fewer carbon dioxide emissions than the Passivhaus standard, traditionally seen as the gold standard in energy efficiency. This underscores the effectiveness of cost-effective, pragmatic measures in reducing carbon emissions.
The seminar presented a graph illustrating how the CLR approach, which includes affordable interventions on the building fabric combined with replacing the heat engine with a heat pump, resulted in lower carbon dioxide emissions than all other retrofitting types, including Passivhaus (EnerPHit) standards.
Detailed Insights from the Seminar
Visualising the Impact: The Carbon Emissions Graph
The AECB’s findings were illustrated through a graph showing cumulative CO2e (operational + embodied) emissions over 60 years for a semi-detached house. The graph compared various retrofitting approaches:
• 194 tonnes CO2e for a gas boiler.
• 99 tonnes CO2e for CarbonLite Full Retrofit without ASHP.
• 76 tonnes CO2e for EnerPHit without ASHP.
• Significantly lower emissions for CarbonLite Step 1 Retrofit with ASHP, showcasing it as the least carbon-intensive intervention.
The Benefits of CarbonLite Retrofit
The benefits of adopting the CarbonLite Retrofit standards are manifold:
1. Cost-Effectiveness: The CLR approach focuses on affordable interventions that are accessible to a wide range of building owners, making it a practical solution for achieving significant energy savings without requiring substantial financial investment.
2. Scalability: The pragmatic nature of the CLR standards makes them scalable, allowing for widespread adoption across various building types and sizes, crucial for achieving large-scale carbon reductions.
3. Health and Comfort: By improving insulation, airtightness, and ventilation, the CLR approach enhances overall health and comfort in buildings, benefiting occupants and contributing to the building’s longevity and durability.
4. Environmental Impact: The integration of renewable energy sources and replacing gas boilers with heat pumps significantly reduces the carbon footprint of buildings, a critical step towards achieving net-zero emissions.
Case Studies and Practical Applications
The AECB has documented several case studies illustrating the effectiveness of the CarbonLite Retrofit standards in real-world applications. These case studies provide valuable insights into the practical implementation of the CLR approach and demonstrate the tangible benefits of adopting these standards.
For example, a retrofit project in Bristol utilised the CLR standards to transform a Victorian terrace house. By upgrading insulation, improving airtightness, and installing a heat pump, the project achieved significant energy savings and improved thermal comfort for the occupants. Similarly, a community housing project in Manchester showcased how the CLR standards could be applied to achieve substantial carbon reductions in a cost-effective manner.
Conclusion: A Pragmatic Path to Sustainability
The AECB’s CarbonLite Retrofit standards offer a pragmatic and cost-effective path to achieving significant carbon reductions in existing buildings. By focusing on affordable measures and integrating renewable energy sources, the CLR approach provides a scalable solution that can be widely adopted to combat climate change. As we continue to strive for a sustainable future, the CarbonLite Retrofit standards represent a vital step forward in our collective efforts to reduce carbon emissions and improve the resilience of our built environment.
References and Sources
1. Association for Environment Conscious Building (AECB). (2024). CarbonLite Retrofit Standards. Retrieved from AECB Website. 2. Green Register. (2024). Seminar on CarbonLite Retrofit Standards. Retrieved from Green Register Events.
3. Martel, T. (2024). CarbonLite Retrofit: Achieving Net Zero in Existing Buildings. Presentation at the Green Register Seminar. 4. Passivhaus Trust. (2024). EnerPHit Standard. Retrieved from Passivhaus Trust.
Architecture and design represent a journey where the order and manner of examination are as crucial, if not more so, than technical skills. The value of the design process lies in its ability to bring people together, engage with multiple perspectives, and merge instinct with reasoning to uncover the right narrative and point of view. Our approach involves listening to each stakeholder, interpreting subtle signs, and balancing various influences to create innovative designs.
Being open to complexity and different points of view
At the centre of our focus, is client’s perspective, both as personalities and characters and as representatives of modern and future societies. We are curious about the creative potential of conversations about their conditions,, characters, habits, plans, and aspirations. These elements form the first marks of the complex conversation that is the project. Secondly as designers, we bring in our own experience, ideas, curiosity and aesthetics: in our case a passion for ambiguously fluid and open spaces, and dense of architectural experiences.
Design sketch for our project at St Margarets.
Next, we include the building itself in the conversation, exploring its geographical location, orientation, and physical presence. Our project in St. Margarets, involves examining how light and mood vary throughout the house based on its orientation. The context extends up to a kilometre, defining the local typology and feel. The context of our project is particularly fascinating as it lies at the boundary between the bucolic Twickenham Park and the noisy urbanisation south of St. Margaret’s Road. This area represents a transition from countryside to city, not just in terms of urbanisation but as a layering of functions over a powerful natural substrate and historical context. Our site stands as a threshold between these two systems, embodying the contrast between the natural and the urban, the quiet and the bustling, the historical and the modern. Finally, we consider the broader global environment and society. This last character asks us to take care of water and energy, support nature, and reduce carbon dioxide emissions. Our commitment to sustainability involves viewing the house from the soil up and the sky down, integrating sustainable practices from the ground up. This approach challenges us to preserve energy, reduce carbon emissions, and enhance biodiversity.
The land
We could describe this area as a progression of development, the transformation of the countryside into the city, not just as the rumble of urbanisation but as a layering of functions covering the powerful natural substrate and history of the area. Our focus will be on the park as the former Twickenham Park, with a few scattered prestigious buildings amidst growing urbanisation, but primarily as a natural environment with historical overlays like a noisy road station.
Finally, our site stands at the boundary between these two systems, the natural and the overland, the bucolic and the frenetic. The environment challenges us to preserve energy, reduce carbon dioxide consumption, and enhance biodiversity, urging us to view the house from the soil up and from the sky down, from the outside in.
The historical background of Twickenham, specifically the St. Margaret’s area, is quite rich and diverse, covering several centuries. Here are some key points:
17th and 18th Centuries: Twickenham became notable for its abundance of villas built for persons of fashion, starting in the 17th century. Notable residents included Francis Bacon in the late 16th century and Lucy, Countess of Bedford in the early 17th century. The area saw significant development of villas along the river and around the town. By 1723, Twickenham was remarked upon for its many elegant seats.
18th Century: In the 1760s, the Duchess of Newcastle, one of the residents, managed a variety of mixed farming in the area. Later, Lord Frederick Cavendish acquired the estate and, upon his death in 1803, it passed to Sir William Abdy. Abdy divided the estate into lots for auction, and the southern section, including the mansion, was purchased by Francis Gosling of St Margarets. However, by 1809, Gosling had demolished the Twickenham Park House.
Marble Hill House: Built in 1724 for Henrietta Howard, mistress of King George II, Marble Hill House is a prime example of Palladian architecture and is set in 66 acres of parkland. It was a center for literary and artistic gatherings in the 18th century.
19th Century: The area continued to develop in the 19th century, with JMW Turner and Charles Dickens among its notable residents. Significant housing developments occurred, including the transformation of large estates like Twickenham Park and Cambridge Park into residential buildings. The railway’s arrival in Twickenham in 1848 was a key factor in this growth.
19th and 20th Century Developments: By 1840, development within Twickenham Park began with the erection of substantial villas. The 1930s saw major housing development, and by 1950, most of the land was developed for housing. The area of Twickenham Park House was demolished in 1929, and the land was used for gravel excavation before being filled in for residential development in the early 1930s.
20th Century Changes: Twickenham saw further changes in the 20th century, with large estates being broken up for smaller housing developments. The area experienced a shift from being a riverside retreat to a more residential and developed district. Over the century, with the central area largely built up, developers focused on areas like Whitton and began replacing large houses with more affordable properties.
Contemporary Twickenham: Today, St Margarets and Twickenham are known for their high employment levels and are popular with professional classes. The area has a mix of residential properties, including semi-detached houses and classical flats, especially near Twickenham Park. Local commerce is vibrant with shops, cafés, and bars, and the area has well-frequented local, independent businesses.
Sandycombe Lodge
(Left) Sandycombe Lodge, Villa of JMW Turner, engraved by WB Cooke.
(Right) Design sketch for Sandycombe Lodge, Twickenham, by JMW Turner.
Sandycombe Lodge, located in Twickenham, is a significant example of early 19th-century architecture with a fascinating history. It was designed and built by the renowned landscape painter J.M.W. Turner in 1813 as a country retreat and a home for his father, William Turner. The Lodge exemplifies Turner’s architectural aspirations and reflects his close friendship with the architect John Soane.
The House
The house has an interesting split quality; it faces St. Margaret’s Road to the south, which entails noise and a bit of confusion but also brings light, brightness, and warmth. On the other side, it faces a quiet street lined with large trees, but being north, it’s darker and cooler. An alley connects these two worlds, and the house itself is a threshold between them. Several buildings come to mind, like Strawberry Hill, the first half-Gothic, half-classical building in the Mediterranean culture, where two microclimates are used to create air movement and cool down living spaces. In Pompeii, living quarters were set far from the entrance, particularly areas dedicated to women, with the whole axis experience designed for privacy yet also showcasing the depth and size of the house.
This thought keeps nagging me: the house has two entrances, and one day there will be a small child, a buggy, and an instinct for protection that might lead to flipping the house’s ancient experience from front to rear. Exiting the house would mean gradually adapting to an exterior world that is private, like a courtyard, and seeing a quiet street with shade, sunlight, birds chirping, and leaves filtering the light. The side alleys could become a threshold, a filter between the two worlds outside the house, hiding or collecting side entrances or accessories for a double life, like bicycles at the front and perhaps an entrance at the side. This double essence is perceivable inside, especially in terms of light, with the quality and intensity varying enormously between front and rear. On the ground floor, an open plan could allow for experiencing different degrees of brightness and tones of light.
Preliminary renderings of our project at St Margarets
How do you describe the project for one’s own office? What is more important? The way the office was brought together with others was a form of cooperation and a way to demonstrate that professionals should and could find more ways of improving their lives, their companies, and their position in society. Or from the sustainability strategy, based on reducing the footprint of the fit-out and keeping the office running without natural gas, of course! Or the quality of our work environments and the importance of having a bright office with fresh filtered air, plants, natural materials, a standing desk, and nice smells. Or perhaps from purely architectural considerations of proportions, space, light, and texture. The whole point I have been making is precisely that ‘architectural’ today should mean society, space, light, texture, employees’ well-being, sustainability, finance, and collaboration. Inevitably, our project for our office encapsulates ideas and ambitions related to all the above. So, I will need several blog posts to describe them all. The first one is an introduction and a table of contents.
I. ‘A beautiful space’: Thanks to very few design moves, we have created a space that is easy, welcoming, looks excellent and feels great. Two distinctive floor finishes mark the serving areas and the served (work) area, separated by a plywood and polycarbonate piece of joinery/partition. Sliding panels allow roaming around the space and through the two zones.
II. Sustainability A. As we progress towards a low-carbon grid and lower energy prices in the future, emphasis should shift to embedded carbon, i.e., favouring recycled, low-carbon materials. When designing the new studio, we planned to reuse as much of the joinery as we had in the old space. Our old desks became sliding doors, the bookshelves were clad or formed new walls, and were adapted to become interior shelves. We made the elements we couldn’t build from recycled materials with cut-to-size plywood assembled by our expert Neapolitan joiner friends, Mario and Antonio. Towards the end, when the large panels were gone, joiners and architects became more creative and still managed to build a boiserie for the meeting room and a standing desk from offcuts. It was a fun experience and a rare opportunity to see our design ideas take form in days rather than months or years. In the case of our office, most of the budget was therefore invested in expert labour rather than materials. (Imagine how much we could reduce our carbon footprint and increase well-being if taxation shifted from labour to carbon (materials)).
Our meeting room boiserie built with offcuts
III. Sustainability B. The same attention to carbon informed our heating and hot water strategy. Windows are kept shut, and the air is circulated mechanically thanks to an MVHR system, which recovers heat from the outgoing air. Thanks to this, heating requirements are kept to a minimum and are covered easily by our six infrared ceiling panels (infrared is the most efficient direct electric heating system). A tiny electric boiler heats the little hot water we need.
IV. We chose a space with large windows on the street. The office is flooded with light. We have a standing desk to get out of our chairs occasionally (a new obsession of mine after reading “The Miracle Pill”). We wave to children walking by and feel the changing light conditions.
V. A company with more than one shareholder owns the office. The people who share the space can purchase shares proportionally to their desks. The exchange of shares is done without making a profit on others. Oddly, this is one of the aspects of the project that interests me the most now. Is there a way for professionals to join forces and build the workplaces they need for their companies?
We are thrilled to announce an exciting development for Unagru – we are extending our wings to Asia by opening a new design and research branch in Malaysia. This initiative is led by Gary Yeow, our brilliant associate and a dearly missed former member of the London team. We had several conversations about what Unagru Malaysia could and should become, so we shared our thought processes in the same dialogue format.
Tell us about yourself.
Hello everyone! My name is Gary Yeow. I was born and lived most of my life in Malaysia. I am an associate of Unagru Architecture Urbanism and am now leading our newly launched multidisciplinary Unagru design office in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. I also teach interior architecture at the Malaysia Institute of Arts. I write for some publications and host some podcasts during my free time.
I completed my architectural degree at Taylor’s University, Malaysia. I worked for a year at ZLG Design Office, an architectural practice in Kuala Lumpur, before furthering my studies at the University of Strathclyde, Scotland. I worked at the Unagru office in London for two years as an office manager, and now I am permanently based in Malaysia.
Why did you choose to study architecture?
Close-up detail of KLIA’s vaulted roofs in Malaysia, by Kisho Kurokawa
It’s interesting to recall why I chose to study architecture because it was not my first, or any considered, choice at all. When I was young, I found KLIA (Kuala Lumpur International Airport), designed by Kisho Kurokawa, fascinating. It is still a fantastic place to visit. I used to ride my motorcycle to the airport at night to see the empty (sometimes crowded) airport and the moments when the planes took off.
So, I initially considered studying aviation engineering or becoming a pilot. Aviation engineering was a niche field in Malaysia, so my brother, who was already studying at a local university, suggested that I choose mechanical engineering as an alternative closer to what I wanted to do. Eventually, I chose architecture and decided to try my luck. So here I am! I’m not working as a practising architect but revolving around the world of architecture.
Favourite books?
The Architecture of Happiness by Alain de Botton is my all-time favourite. I bought the book while completing my architectural foundation course, and it took me quite a while to finish reading it. I was always keen to know more about happiness from a general humanistic perspective, so that book holds a special place in my heart. Another one, not a book but an exhibition publication, is Architecture Without Architects by Bernard Rudofsky.
There are books I enjoy reading for ‘academic’ purposes and the clarity of their writing, such as On the Origin of Species by Charles Darwin, Delirious New York by Rem Koolhaas, The Wealth of Nations by Adam Smith, and Utopia or Oblivion by Buckminster Fuller.
Favorite building in Malaysia?
I am a fan of modernist / art-deco concrete buildings, simply practical and elegant in the tropical context. It’s hard to identify my favourite building in particular because it is scattered around Malaysia in urban and rural settings.
Teluk Anson Chinese Club, an art deco building in Perak, Malaysia
I recently discovered the Teluk Anson Chinese Club, which is a memorable one. It has a well-designed facade for natural air ventilation, beautiful proportions with shades and brise-soleils, and the ‘least disrupted’ facade with minimal signboard intrusions. This is noteworthy as many buildings in Malaysia, modernist or not, need to be more focused on shop signages and billboards.
PJ Trade Centre, an office tower with well-designed landscape, materiality and openness
Oh yes, a rather contemporary one is the PJ Trade Centre, designed by Kevin Mark Low. It stands out as a gem representing a good Malaysian architectural example. Interestingly enough, I live across from this building, and the familiarity contributes to my liking.
Share with us how did you join Unagru.
After completing my master’s at the University of Strathclyde, Glasgow, I moved to London to look for a job. I came across Unagru’s job ads for a recruiting office and content manager, and I found it interesting, so I applied. Partly because my final year thesis focused on sustainability and resilience in architectural business and its operations, it’s intriguing how architects often discuss buildings or society but seldom talk about themselves, their stories, businesses, or their well-being—my time in the London studio allowed me to observe the evolution of architects’ roles over different periods, offering a contemplative moment to rethink the building and construction industry’s ecosystem.
What inspired the decision to move back and set up new office in Malaysia?
The decision to move was challenging. Life in London was enjoyable, mainly when I could cycle everywhere and work with fantastic colleagues. However, there were limitations to my growth for new challenges, particularly in teaching and for personal reasons. Also, having more friends and collaborators across different disciplines who shared a mutual passion in the Asian region, I decided to move back to initiate more conversations around architecture through practice and education, hoping to contribute more at home.
Speaking of setting up a new office, I want to applaud and thank Davide, the director of Unagru Architecture Urbanism, who believed in and respected my decision to move back to Malaysia. This has allowed me to embark on a new journey, personally and professionally. While I continue to assist the UK office with marketing matters, we stay in touch while exploring exciting opportunities to expand Unagru’s business globally and locally.
What would be the projects are you planning to do?
Unagru’s philosophy centres on creating ‘ecological and narrative design.’
Our multidisciplinary design office in Malaysia operates as an extension, closely aligning with ESG (Environmental, Social, and Governance) principles as design strategists. We view ourselves as researchers, communicators, educators, writers, participants, and designers of places—in a regionally and locally engaging manner, enabling good architecture and design.
The approach is inspired by modern-day polymath Buckminster Fuller, motivating us to utilise design as a holistic solution by ‘doing more with less’. This prompts us to interpret efficiency and economy consciously when considering existing and new energy, resources, and labour—not exploitatively, but through embracing mutual collaborations to deliver optimal results by prioritising communication and trust.
Our Malaysia office aims to be sensitive, conscious or frugal about energy, people, and economy as a sustainable business ethos. When we demand an efficient workflow and planning for our (and our clients’) expectations, we can achieve more with less… which will provide a surplus of time and energy to observe our everyday problems and solutions. This method of working provides, most importantly, many opportunities to collaborate with individuals that we usually do not encounter in a construction project. Therefore, as a collective, our work revolves around everyday life, including culture, art, small businesses, finance, city connectivity, and more.
There was a podcast by Scaffold, and during the conversation, Tony Fretton mentioned that ‘nothing is too trivial’ when he was asked about his photographic documentation of everydayness and ordinariness. I like it very much, where daily observations are critical opportunities for designers like us to engage in conversations and initiate design as solutions. We must be proactive rather than wait for the right time or client. Architectural thinking or approaches can be the starting point, where we can expand architecture, predominantly perceived as a building-making medium or instrument, to offer a broader range of creative outputs.
Our directions hinge on two keywords: purpose and collaboration.
A sketch depicting the possibilities of revitalising KL downtown by adaptive reuse strategies
The first direction is termed ‘the purpose to activate.’ We initiate projects by sensitively observing everyday surroundings and proposing what we can offer to improve our surroundings. Ongoing research projects may evolve into architectural endeavours, such as exploring the potential of unused office towers in downtown Kuala Lumpur with circular economy and adaptive reuse strategies (inspired by 51N4E’s ongoing WTC re-using project), or experimenting with low-carbon materials like rammed earth or mycelium. Though this process is time-consuming, we can highlight critical or urgent issues through strategic project brief planning and collaboration with various disciplines. This category also includes participating in design competitions or open proposals.
The second direction is termed ‘the purpose of alternating.’ This occurs when engaged by clients, consultants, or builders with their brief, like a housing project. We collaborate closely with local architects to understand project potentials and weaknesses, proposing alternatives to enhance design, reduce costs, and minimise environmental impact.
Tales of Vessels, an artwork by Gary during KL Design Festival ‘DomesticDomicileDominate’ exhibition, curated by Danial Ismail, Shamin Sahrum and Gary Yeow
The exciting aspect of this research-and-practice business model is its diversified outcomes.
In the architecture and construction scene, we help clients define clear and feasible project briefs, work on designs with Unagru UK, collaborate with local architects and builders on project progress, and engage in post-occupation stages with marketing or branding strategies if required. We lead the project by distributing the workload to other collaborators. The takeaway is everyone learns from each other while zooming into different deliverables.
Meanwhile, our framework of architecture expands beyond buildings. The most recent ones would be my writing on Malaysian architecture history on the period between the end of WW2 and the national independence and an exhibition about Domestic Culture titled “DomDomDom” (Domestic, Domicile, Dominate) I curated with my friends Dan and Sam for KL Design Festival 2023. So, don’t be surprised to see exhibitions, events, or publications in our portfolio.
Stay tuned for more!
For collaborations, please contact Gary at gary@unagru.com or you can visit us at:
15-05, Tower 2, Faber Towers, Jalan Desa Bahagia, Taman Desa, Kuala Lumpur 58100, Malaysia.
Our latest participation in the Open House Festival allowed us to reflect on our domestic projects. The result was a little booklet alternating ecological and design matters we care about. Seeing how the two categories liked to intertwine and work together was fascinating. This is the first paragraph in the design section.
The room has been the founding principle of domestic life and architecture for a long time. It is the founding structure elements composing a building that needs continuous support while it allows privacy (a walk-in wardrobe), specialisation (a kitchen) and character (the dining room). A room can be someone’s room or a specific one with its character, light conditions, materials and all the rest. Throughout the history of modern and contemporary architecture, the room has been fought as a legacy of class separation and social conformity. Modern architects have gradually broken up the room until reaching its complete dissolution before a new generation has returned to review the quality of discrete spaces. Between the total dissolution of space into the exterior landscape and the formal separation of rooms, most contemporary architecture seeks to find balance, character and sense.
In our work, we often deal with existing conditions. One of the ways in which we reduce our carbon footprint and the cost of our projects is to exercise the eye in recognising existing qualities and structural principles of the buildings we are entrusted to modify. When working on a traditional building – founded on rooms, a large portion of our work consists of remodelling these rooms to unlock the movement of air and people. This is one of the principles of the narrative open plan. We look at what’s there. We identify its qualities. Recognising the buildings’ structure allows us to work with its grain and reduce costs and carbon footprint; recognising its founding character allows us to compose complex, eventful projects.
Loop House was born from this analysis: a series of rooms that needed to open into one another and towards the garden. Mies van der Rohe’s houses in Krefeld, Germany, have become the main reference. A series of wide portals only partially and very clearly connect the original rooms, guiding us through the house. We preserved the rooms’ identities while ambiguously letting them open into one another and then into the garden.
The Spider is another similar exercise where a single structural element (also painted red) joins three rooms into one while preserving the old distinction by preserving and enhancing the differences between ceiling shapes, floor finishes and decoration. Rather than simply knocking down walls and creating a single space, we have worked with clients on selecting the features worth preserving to increase rather than reducing the richness of the resulting space. We also decided we should record the intervention by exposing the new structure. The latter is conceived as a single object with flush, continuous surfaces: an asymmetric portal reminiscent of LeCorbusier’s Villa Savoye’s entrance portal, Louise Bourgoise’s sculptures, and Sol LeWitt’s incomplete structures.
The traces of the original rooms are celebrated, allowing a series of rooms to become a sequence of rooms.
The space between the rooms, the transition or liminal space, becomes the object of the design. Its detailing determines how well our space is perceived as one or how will the original rooms.
The red structural portal is set 400mm beneath the ceiling level to preserve the trace of the original layout. One of the existing ceiling decorations is also preserved, with two new ceiling shapes playfully counteracting the traditional features. The floor design is also conceived to combine the clarity of the new design with the complexity of original fragments. The clients proposed to use a beautiful, traditional tile, together with a more typical engineered wood floor. The changes in materials coincide with the footprint of original rooms: the tiles denote the bay window area (now imagined as a greenhouse), and the breakfast room; the engineered wood outlines the original dining room and kitchen (with planks laid in two different directions). The kitchen island is left free to cross the original partition lines: a very large, coloured, freestanding object. The entire kitchen was designed to wrap around the existing corner chimney breast and make the most of the high ceilings. The result is a composite and sequnce of spaces composed of four volumes.
Gas boilers are responsible for several types of pollution: carbon monoxide is particularly dangerous indoors and can kill or seriously poison inhabitants[1]. A high concentration of gas boilers seriously impacts air quality, particularly in cities. For example, in London in 2010, gas boilers contributed 21% of the NO2 pollution, second after transportation, which accounted for about 50%[2]. In these areas, replacing gas boilers with electric alternatives brings more benefits than in others by reducing diseases and mortality in children and adults.
The map shows NO2 concentrations in the UK, where www.nomoregas.org can be more useful[3].
By overlapping technical/architectural knowledge and urban and geographic information, we could now design more granular policies to capture maximum advantages. For example, heat batteries and other electric alternatives to gas boilers could be incentivised in dense urban areas.
At the same time, when discussing curtailment, we noted how installing thousands of heat batteries in some areas of the North and Scotland would save the government and everyone energy and money.
The combination of these two geographies forms a National (albeit still partial) map of areas where transitioning away from gas should be favoured or incentivised.
[1] According to the government, every year, “4,000 people go to A&E, 200 people are hospitalised, and there are around 50 deaths in England and Wales”. https://www.gov.uk/government/news/carbon-monoxide-poisoning-sends-4-000-people-to-a-e-each-year [2] I suspect now the proportion will be a lot higher, thanks to the reduced pollution from transport (The Mayor of London has invested a lot into this campaign and policy). [3] To see the NO2 maps visit https://naei.beis.gov.uk/mapping/mapping_2020/6_large.png
We have known for decades now that the future energy mix will be based on renewables, and the key to a sustainable future is the electric grid. Buckminster Fuller proposed a global electric grid in the 1930s and worked on the project for several decades. Since the early 2000s, OMA – Office for Metropolitan Architecture – has been developing scenarios for the European electric grid, where the Mediterranean countries supply solar energy and the Northern countries wind. The latest rendition of this idea is Eneuropa, again by AMO (the research arm of OMA), with McKinsey, Imperial College London, energy consultancy KEMA and analyst Oxford Economics. On the right is a portion of the map, where the UK spans between the Isles of Wind and the Tidal States. The most important and costly investment to implement this plan is a new long-range and powerful electric grid.
‘The power sector requires the most aggressive change,’ says AMO project director Laura Baird. Roadmap 2050 proposes a European supergrid where UK winds and tides, Mediterranean sunshine and central European forests work together to reduce Europe’s reliance on fossil fuels.
The main idea is that large-scale, efficient grids will reduce the intermittency issues tied to renewables (the sun is always shining somewhere). We could and should make the same reasoning in the UK. To contribute and take advantage of the European grid, we must build our own and maximise the richness of our renewable production.
In fact, large amounts of renewable energy are wasted yearly because of how the grid is built. This map illustrates the break between the Northern and Southern grids. Most renewable energy providers are in Scotland and Northern England, which does not consume all of it. On particularly windy days, energy from Scotland and the North could supply almost all the power we need. However, delivering this power where needed is impossible because of the lack of transmission lines between the energy-productive North and the energy-hungry South. So when the output is too high, the energy grid needs to pay wind farm owners to stop the turbines to avoid overloading the grid.
The break between North and South electric grids. Energy-rich areas (purple) are separated from density inhabited areas (white)
According to this perfect article by Archy de Bercker, curtailment costs us about 1 Billion(!) in fees and wasted energy. The government is planning new transmission lines and faces much resistance and NIMBY-ism. Therefore the largest transmission lines are planned on the sea bed and will take years to build. While building the transmission lines, the Scottish renewable energy output will increase further, making even the new lines obsolete.
Simply put: we can’t lay cables fast enough to solve this problem.
According to Archy de Bercker, the ideal solution would be a more diffused grid: with several connection points. Again, this would require overcoming a lot of resistance. Local and national governments need all the possible support to design the new lines properly by involving and informing the citizens about the knowledge on upgrading the grid. But there are also other options: Other means of making the most of otherwise wasted energy would be to deploy battery storage on the energy-abundant side of the divide. Batteries can be deployed at large or small scale. Heat batteries can always draw electricity to recharge, especially at night when there is often too much output (and energy is cheaper). These products are designed precisely to take advantage of the low-cost energy to provide:
I. a service to the grid that needs a way of balancing before getting overloaded;
II. A way to avoid wasting energy through curtailment;
III. Lower bills for its owners
For these reasons, we have included them among our recommended solutions to electrify our homes and replace gas boilers. Instead of wasting one billion pounds a year, we could invest in incentivising the installation of heat energy batteries to replace boilers, especially in areas where power goes wasted: Scotland and Northern England.
To find the best for you on a free-pro-bono website built by environmental activists and architects, check out www.nomoregas.org.
