I caught myself wondering in a workshop this week, what is the opposite to decline?
Incline? Uncline? Recline?
A bit of context. I often look at places in need of repair and think why has nobody fixed that yet? Perhaps, in the past, my automatic response would have been to say because there isn’t a budget for that. And with this reflex programmed in, I stop noticing.
But for some reason I have started noticing.
A wall needing a new coat of paint.
A planter without any plants in.
A flickering light making a place feel unsafe.
When places are uncared for, unmaintained, they go into decline. Things break, breakages create new weaknesses, which then break further. Places feel unloved, and in turn they get less love. It’s a downward spiral.
But the opposite is also true.
When places are cared for, are maintained, they do the opposite. Improving one thing is an invitation to improve the next. We can see love for a place and are more inclined to play our part, even if that’s just by spending more time there. It’s an upward spiral.
One way to reverse this trend is to put more external investment in. But this money will come at the cost of another place in the system.
The regenerative designer asks a different question:
How can the energy and resources needed to build up a place come from that place?
How can a virtuous spiral of local inputs and outputs reinforce itself to keep making things better, and to keep going within the limits of what that local ecosystem and community can carry?
That is the essence of regenerative design.
To move from systems that deplete themselves to ones that improve over time.
The opposite of decline?
Thrive.
