Using utopias in landscape architecture to enable hope for a different future

Reports of global warming, biodiversity loss, rising anti-democratic states, heatwaves, wars, and sea-level rise are enough to make anyone discouraged. In these times, hope is crucial—it’s the difference between envisioning a positive future and resigning to the present. Hope drives action, while hopelessness paralyzes. It rejects the status quo and aspires for change, making it vital for progress. Hope can grow and strengthen, but it can also fade.

When these great, global challenges threaten to overshadow our future, society needs hope the most. Hope is what allows us to keep moving forward, even in the face of obstacles. In landscape architecture, utopia represents an effort to overcome powerlessness, offering a vision of a better future, fueled by hope.

While listening to the news report on the radio I first came in contact with the close relationship between having hopes for the future and the ability to imagine. The broadcast featured political science professor Magnus Ekengren, who was interviewed about his research on insidious crises, such as cyber-attacks and climate change—threats that slowly creep toward us but may not immediately capture attention. Ekengren argues that despite extensive research and statistics showing the coming catastrophe, decision-makers often fail to act. He suggests that one of the reasons for this inaction is that those in power cannot fully grasp the magnitude of the consequences simply by looking at numbers. To spark the imagination, these threats need to be visualized in a way that compels action.

Ekengren proposes that researchers and cultural workers collaborate in new ways to present research, not just as dry data but as vivid, imaginative visions of the future. By creating positive, inspiring examples of what a resilient society could look like, this approach could serve to stir people’s imaginations and encourage them to take the necessary action. While this may seem naive in the face of these very real threats, as scholar Schneekloth (1998) notes, the power of positive images should not be underestimated. Hope for a better, more positive future nourishes the human impulse to act, helping to transform knowledge into meaningful, forward-moving change.

UTOPIAN HOPE

Opening our minds to future possibilities connects directly to the ideas of German philosopher Ernst Bloch (1959), who coined the term Not-Yet-Become. Bloch describes this as the future beyond our awareness—the horizon of possibility that drives us to envision a better world. Neither as something visible nor even likely, but as something that not yet has become. This drive, Bloch argues, is a utopian impulse all humans have inherited and which derives from hope, concluding that hope and utopia are deeply intertwined. The utopian hope is an emotional force that strives towards something other, something that could become as opposed to fear which focuses on what is, an entry that confines possibilities. In this light, hope can be seen as more than just a feeling—it is a direction, a force with purpose. Tim Waterman (2019) claims hope to be something that is not abstract nor intangible but instead something that has a trajectory, something that exists in places, spaces, and people, always pushing toward another future. It carries with it determination, aiming toward a destination, and is deeply connected to the lived experience of individuals and communities. Cultural-political geographer Andersson (2013) takes this idea further, suggesting that utopian hope is not the property of an individual nor a subjective noun: hope, it should instead be regarded as a collective process, and as a verb: hoped. It exists within the collective, creating a spectrum of individual hopes that together form a shared vision of the future. This collective perspective allows us to reflect on the direction of the present and understand how every moment contributes to the greater movement of societal transformation.

Translating this idea into the realm of landscape architecture, we see that hope is a multilayered phenomenon, ranging from personal hopes to global aspirations. The landscape architect’s role is to understand and facilitate these diverse layers of utopian hope, assessing how physical space can host and reflect them. It is about recognizing the potential for space to act as a conduit for the “Not-Yet-Become”—to give form to the utopian visions that lie just beyond our reach, and to create spaces that act as sites for this future becoming. The utopian landscape architect bases physical interventions on the collective hopes of the community. As Tim Waterman (2019) suggests, hope is deeply embedded in the landscape because it reflects a desire for a better world—whether it’s in terms of improved life, communities, environments, or social relations. Hope, therefore, is not just an abstract concept but something that exists in the material world, rooted in the places where people live and interact. Landscape architects, in this context, shape spaces that embody this desire for improvement, creating environments that hold the potential for better futures. Further supporting this notion is Lynda H. Schneekloth (1998) who describes the act of performing landscape architecture as inherently utopian. She argues that the very practice of design is an act of envisioning a future different from the present. Since the world already exists in its current form, every intervention made by landscape architects—whether it is the creation, addition, alteration, or extraction of space—is an expression of hope, a way of disregarding the present and striving for something better. According to Schneekloth, landscape architecture itself is a utopian act, embodying the possibility of change and transformation.

UTOPIA AND PLACE

However, considering hope as an integral factor in landscape architecture can be complex and, at times, abstract. To ground the utopian hope within landscape architecture, it must be anchored in a specific site—an essential step for any proposal, whether it involves an alteration, addition, or extraction of space. Without considering the particularities of the site, a utopian vision remains disconnected from the reality of the place and the people who inhabit it. This brings us to Edward Relph’s seminal work Place and Placelessness (1976), in which he stresses the deep interconnection between people and place. According to Relph, places are not neutral or passive; they are experienced individually, shaped by our own references, memories, and experiences. Place becomes a reflection of the individual, and yet, as Relph notes, the individual is always part of a community. Therefore the communal experience of place is equally important as the individuals experience, creating a complex dynamic between the two.

Relph’s theory is essential for understanding the role of hope in landscape architecture, as it presents place not just as a physical location but as a system with layers of history, memories, and  potential. He writes that “place itself is the present expression of past experience and events and of hopes for the future.” In other words, the present condition of a place is shaped by the collective memories and experiences of those who have lived in it, while also holding within it the hopes and dreams for what it could become. Seeing place as a living, evolving system, is inherent to the profession as landscape architects design spaces that care for both the historical context of the site and the hopes of the community for the future.

The idea that each place is unique and shaped by its people makes the concept of a general utopia inapplicable. Instead, a utopia rooted in each specific place, and the inherent hopes and potentials of the space is crucial as place has inherent qualities and aspects that are interdependent on the people using it.

IS UTOPIA MEGALOMANIAC

Utopian approach in architecture does come with critique. It has been questioned by some, notably by the renowned architectural theorist Manfredo Tafuri (1976). Tafuri challenges the validity of utopian visions produced by architects all togehter. Arguing that they are inherently compromised since architects are constrained by capitalism, as their work is shaped by the economic system that underpins their profession. The very act of designing within this system, Tafuri argues, makes it impossible for architects to truly challenge the status quo. In his view, utopian ideals are fundamentally flawed because they do not address the contradictions inherent in the capitalist system. Capitalism’s version of the social utopian good is considered good based on bourgeois principles on how citizens should behave. Meaning that they are inflicting imperative order, and require utility, productivity and health ideals, according to Tafuri.

Le Corbusier is often attributed as representing ’utopian ideas’, and some of his work, particularly his Plan Voisin, highlights this tension between visionary ideas and the realities of implementing such ideas within existing societal structures. The Plan Voisin proposed the complete demolition of central Paris, replacing it with a series of massive skyscrapers. While it was aimed to address issues of overcrowding in cities, it was deeply criticised because of its disregard for historical context and its imposition of a top-down, authoritarian vision. In his book Urbanisme (1925), Corbusier expresses a slight confusion about the negative response he earned when presenting his plan. His ambition was more inclined to provoke thought and discussion of something that could be, rather than present a fully realised solution.

Could be is the key to understanding the term utopia. It contains in itself different possibilities and results which leads utopia to be a mirroring of something becoming. The evolving nature of utopian hope underscores the significance of becoming, rather than representing a set futuristic goal. As noted by Manfredo Tafuri (1976), utopia is both a reflection of the present and a projection toward a future that is continuously unfolding. It is not a fixed state but a dynamic process and requires constant reevaluation, adaptation, and engagement with the changing needs of society. This perspective on utopia aligns closely with Ernst Bloch’s (1959) idea, that utopian hope is inherently linked to the possibility of transformation, rooted in fluidity and openness to what is yet to come.

For landscape architecture, this means embracing a practice that is in perpetual motion, constantly evolving in response to the people and environments it serves. The design process should not be about arriving at a final, static solution but about creating spaces that are flexible, adaptable, and capable of evolving as the hopes and needs of the community change over time. In this sense, landscape architecture tending to utopian hope has to be a work that is never done, utterly contrasting the idea of utopian practice as something utilitarian or authoritarian. Using utopia as an absolute solution-finding method is therefore pointless in the sense that a utopia will never be in a state where anything is resolved.

In the sense that utopian hope always strives forward, towards a future that could be, the logical consequence then is that a static ’utopia’ that is finished is no longer ongoing. A complete utopic resolution must then mean the end of possible transformation, and hence: the death of the utopia. The continuous striving for something better can never truly be completed. Therefore the role of landscape architecture, is to create spaces that embody this continuous process of transformation, rather than creating fixed and finalized blueprints that risk stifling the potential for future growth.

In conclusion, utopian hope in landscape architecture is not about creating idealized, final solutions but about embracing an open-ended process that fosters hope through adaptability, fluidity, and a constant sense of becoming. This approach encourages the creation of spaces that evolve with time, responding to the changing needs and hopes of the people who engage with them. By moving away from rigid, fixed master planning and instead focusing on creating dynamic, adaptable environments, landscape architects can create places that are truly reflective of the utopian hope: a hope that is always in motion, always striving for opening up the future possibilities, and always perceptible to transformation.

SPECULATION AND UTOPIA

A plausible future is a probable future, whereas a possible future is a future that may be. Where the latter suggests a broader range of alternatives the plausible is the more likely scenario. In the context of discussing utopia as something that can be used to project multiple possible futures, it is important to have this distinction in mind. Hope feeds on the possibilities of change, and on alternatives for different outcomes, according to Bloch (1959). In landscape architecture, this translates to relevance to go beyond what is probable and go towards the much more unsure realm of what is possible, especially if a large societal transformation is desired. By embracing utopian thinking, landscape architects have the ability to challenge the status quo, pushing the profession to think outside of conventional frameworks and propose transformative spaces that reflect a broader range of societal hopes and desires. It underscores the idea that landscape architecture has the potential to inspire change by imagining what could be, not just what is. Landscape architects, therefore, must act as facilitators of this imaginative process, shaping spaces that encourage collective engagement and provoke thought.

This openness to the unknown is not only a philosophical exercise; it is a concrete approach to design. By using speculative design methods—such as imagining alternative scenarios, exaggerating existing processes, or flipping current assumptions—landscape architects can foster creative thinking and generate new insights into how spaces can evolve.

Dunne and Raby (2013) highlight this approach when they describe speculative design as a means to imagine how things could be. The duo developed four scenarios, drawn from present-day tendencies and taken to extremely exaggerated lengths, raising important questions about the societal organizations we desire. How is life organized around a society that is completely sustainable and only uses natural resources or a society that is completely digital? Or one where cities are mobile and moving around in the world, searching for resources? Their experiments address issues such as socioeconomic disparities, climate change, resource exploitation, and political responsibility by envisioning landscapes that would support each scenario. They challenge the way we think about everyday life by pushing existing ideologies to their extreme, encouraging a deeper reflection on the possibilities inherent in our current societal structures. At first glance, these scenarios might appear as blueprint utopias, but the goal is not to construct an ideal society. Instead, Dunne and Raby aim to critically expand our understanding of current conditions by juxtaposing them with alternative possibilities. The primary objective of Dunne and Raby is to tap into people’s ability to fantasize, encouraging fresh ideas on how everyday life could differ from what we know today. The speculative scenarios are a method to flip the script on absurdities, ask “what-ifs,” and reimagine historical facts to alter reality.

This approach to experimentation can serve as a valuable tool in understanding utopia within the context of landscape architecture. Particularly, the method of using multiple scenarios simultaneously emphasizes the wide range of possibilities that emerge depending on the actions and processes in play. Speculative design thrives on imagination, seeking to open up new perspectives. It creates spaces for discussion and debate about alternative ways of living and encourages people to let their imaginations flow freely. These speculative scenarios are not intended to be prescriptive solutions, but rather starting points for discussion, reflection, and innovation. One important distinction to make is that while Dunne and Raby’s states are interesting, they differ from the utopian concept in that utopia does not merely seek to create possibilities, but to cultivate the potential of these possibilities to foster hope for a better future.

The key value of speculative design, is daring to shift focus from the plausible to the possible. A plausible future is one that seems likely based on current conditions, while a possible future is one that embraces uncertainty and presents a broader range of alternatives. In landscape architecture, this means moving beyond the limitations of pragmatic design and exploring the realm of what is possible—what could be. Since hope thrives on the possibility of change, and it is through engaging with the possible, rather than simply the plausible, that landscape architects can inspire true transformation.

In this regard, speculative design offers a means to expand the range of possibilities for the future, encouraging society to think critically about its trajectory and the role that landscape architecture can play in shaping it. By providing a space for these alternative futures to unfold, landscape architects can create an environment where new ideas and approaches are not just possible, but actively encouraged. This process of imagining the future, of dreaming beyond the present, is not just a theoretical exercise—it is a vital part of the profession’s responsibility to contribute to a more hopeful community.

Thus, the relationship between utopian thinking and landscape architecture is one of profound responsibility. Landscape architects have the opportunity—and the responsibility—to stretch the boundaries of imagination, to provoke thought, and to inspire a collective vision for the future. This requires moving beyond the practicalities of current needs and looking toward what could be, not just what must be. By doing so, landscape architects can help create spaces that reflect the aspirations, hopes, and dreams of the communities they serve, ensuring that the future is not simply an extension of the present, but a place where new possibilities can flourish.

In conclusion, utopia in landscape architecture is not about creating fixed, idealized visions of the future. It is about engaging in an ongoing, speculative process that invites exploration, challenges assumptions, and opens up possibilities for transformation. By embracing the dynamic and evolving nature of utopian hope, landscape architects can create spaces that foster collective imagination, inspire change, and contribute to the creation of a future that is not only possible, but desirable. As Bloch (1959) reminds us, “Let a further signal be set for forward dreaming. Utopia is nothing other than hoping beyond the day which has become.” This is the essence of landscape architecture as a utopian practice—a practice that is always becoming, always imagining and that sparks hope.

References

Andersson, B. (2006). ”Transcending Without Transcendence”: Utopianism and an Ethos of Hope. Antipode. 38(4), pp. 691-710. https://doi. org/10.1111/j.1467-8330.2006.00472.x

Bloch, E. (1959). The Principle of Hope vol I-III. MIT Press.

Dunne, A. & Raby, F. (2013). Speculative everything: design, fiction, and social dreaming. MIT Press.

Le Corbusier (1925). Urbanisme. Champs Flammarion.

Relph, E. (1976). Place and Placelessness, Pion Limited.

Schneekloth, L.H. “Uredeemably Utopian: Architecture and Making/Unmaking the World.”. Utopian Studies. vol. 9, no. 1, 1998, pp. 1–25. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/ stable/20719740. [06-03-2023.]

Tafuri, M. (1976). 2 edition. Architecture and utopia. Cam- bridge, MA:MIT Press.

Vetenskapsradion forskarliv (2022). Krisforskaren: vi måste sluta tänka ”det händer inte här” [radioprogram]. Sveriges Radio, P1, 29 sept.

Waterman, T. (2019). Introducing hope: landscape architecture and utopian pedagogy. I Jørgensen, K., Karadeniz, N., Mertens, E., & Stiles, R. (Eds.) The Routledge Handbook of Teaching Landscape. Routledge, pp. 2-10.