Sustainability Beyond Building(s): A Resource-Centric Reframing of the Built Environment

Abstract

Contemporary sustainability practices in the built environment often focus narrowly on reducing short-term impacts within the boundaries of individual buildings. This Special Issue aims to challenge that paradigm by proposing a broader, resource-centric approach grounded in long-term system balance and post-fossil logic. It argues that sustainability should not merely mitigate harm but actively support resource regeneration. Key issues include the flawed concept of non-renewable resources, the obsolescence of primary energy metrics, insufficient system boundaries, and the undervaluation of residual material impact. Drawing on historical analogies and real-world observations, the paper outlines a framework for a regenerative built environment—where buildings take responsibility for their energy and material footprints and contribute positively over time. It concludes that truly sustainable design must be based on predictable, annual resource budgets and a holistic integration of material, ecological, and human systems. It requires re-inventing the way we evaluate and organize our built environment.

1. Lifespan

How long does a building last? How long should a building last?

In current practice, different building lifespans are considered as average effects over a given period. None of the lifespans used are scientifically grounded, often based on default financial return periods [4]. Various fictitious lifespans are assumed, but is there really such a thing as an end of life? I concluded that a building should last at least 50 years before it can truly contribute to society—and at least 100 years in the sense that society would not have to invest in constructing a new home for the next generation [5].

Moreover, can or should we even be calculating with that today? Should we not simply rely on the impact created today for our calculations, rather than shifting this impact into the future or averaging it over a long time, so as not to burden our children?

2. Primary Energy

What is the point of calculating in units of primary energy if we are transitioning to renewable energy?

After all, electricity comes directly from a solar panel, and the output is 100 percent… You could argue it is only about 20 percent of the incoming solar energy, so there is more input originally. In that case, we must also consider the solar energy input for coal and gas: the biomass growth in plants and animals over millions of years is the basis for fossil fuel formation, in terms of time and space. What is the efficiency or EROI from original biomass to electricity per time unit there?

In other words, the primary energy concept is outdated. This example reveals a flaw in the concept of primary energy: it is inconsistent and disconnected from resource origin and time. Even the commission that introduced the concept suggested a shift to final energy use once enough global data is available [6]. Comparing solar panel output to the primary energy of fossil fuels can misleadingly suggest that immense replacement is required, when in fact, only delivered energy matters.

3. System Boundaries

Assessments of buildings are limited by system boundaries that exclude essential indirect impacts. For example, the infrastructure (roads, utilities) required to support a building is rarely included. Yet without buildings, such infrastructure would not be necessary. How much actually is added in building impact by roads and sewage systems?

(This is why it makes more sense to build along existing roads rather than expanding into new areas.)

A more holistic system boundary could also reveal synergies. In my hometown, for example, centuries of limestone quarrying created a chaotic network of galleries in the interior of the hills. Had excavation been planned systematically along the mountain’s edges, the resulting voids could have become useful dwellings—an example of how system thinking and broadening boundaries changes the interpretation of impact.

How can we fairly assess buildings, including the second- and third-order impacts they cause, and in a relevant system size that includes utilities and raw material extraction zones? In other words, will we make system boundaries more holistic?

4. Everything Renewable and Measurable

A major omission in how we account for raw materials is that for organic materials, stock regeneration is considered, while for inorganic materials, it is not. For the latter, it is assumed they are so-called non-renewable.

This dichotomy is scientifically unsound. All materials, organic and inorganic, are in essence renewable—only over vastly different timescales.

We will have to find a way to include that in calculations; otherwise, cycles cannot be closed and only lead to depletion. That means concentrated stocks run out, and exponentially more energy is needed to recover heavily diluted substances into a usable form (for humans).

We must let go of the idea that there is such a thing as non-renewable resources. That is also the flaw in the hype around the circular economy, which is not actually circular: what is called the technical cycle conceals the real loop. The technical cycle merely slows down linear consumption, which is fine, but it is not circular.

All raw materials are, in one way or another, re-concentrated (on Earth)—either biologically, geologically, or thermally, and we must learn how to account for that [2]. (via a biocycle and a geocycle, or hybrid).

To close resource cycles, we must calculate and invest in the regeneration of all materials. This could involve extracting diluted minerals from soil or seawater, akin to desalination for drinking water. Such processes require energy, but they represent the “cost of regeneration,” which must be included in our accounting.

5. Long-Term Balance

During the Edo period, Japan was closed off from the outside world. Edo people had to make do with what their own region or island could provide. There was no backup. In the first century, they cut down trees in the wilderness, until they realized that would end badly. They initiated a widespread replanting program, with strict rules on how much could be cut and by whom; forest guards were even employed. In the second century, it started to bear fruit, and by the 18th century the system was balanced, but in the 19th century, Japan was forced to open its borders [7].

This illustrates the necessity of planning from day one with long-term, annual resource budgets in mind. Many ancient cultures maintained such systems, often alongside population control measures. Edo Japan even had strict birth policies: for instance, a second son in a family was not expected to marry or have children. Population size remained stable for a long time.

The concept of a fixed annual resource budget, particularly for building materials, remains underexplored in contemporary science.

The bottom line—and science does not yet account for this—is that there is a limited budget of raw materials per year, and we must plan accordingly, not just by limiting the effects of use, but planning based on known yearly availability. How that works and how to calculate it is still in its infancy.

6. Start from a Post-Fossil World

Much of our methodology is still rooted in fossil logic—attempting to reduce or offset fossil use while still depending on it. This leads to suboptimal strategies. Instead, we should start from a post-fossil baseline, designing for and evaluating systems within the constraints and capacities of a fully renewable world [5]. This involves conducting calculations as if there are no fossil fuels, and from there choosing the best options [5] (see also the point about primary energy).

7. The Zero-Impact House

When translated into an approach for the built environment, all of this raises the question: what is a zero-impact house?

The answer is one that is responsible for its own energy and resources, and even becomes, over time, a permanent and impact-free contributor to the built environment.

In Peru, I observed houses made from locally sourced, sun-dried earth bricks. In tropical regions, homes are often built from bamboo that regrows within a few years. These examples demonstrate materials that are not only renewable but regenerative.

Rather than incremental improvements, we need to design dwellings that actively regenerate their energy and material footprints, positively contributing to the built environment over time.

8. Residual Impact of Recycling Resources

In the concept of the circular economy (which, as noted in Section 4, is not actually circular), everything is reused or recycled, which is a good thing.

However, it is assumed that old materials that are reused or recycled have no residual impact from the past, which is a strange assumption. Presumably, the material was once extracted, processed, and used—and the (fossil) energy and freely plundered resources were (in general) never compensated.

So why would they suddenly have no residual impact?

An example can clarify this: suppose a new house is built and sold after one year. The new owner dislikes it, demolishes it, and builds a new house, albeit with the same materials.

That would then be considered an impact-free house, since it is entirely built from reused and recycled materials?

Resources and energy inputs should serve a function for a certain period (the longer, the better), so that society does not need to produce a replacement.

The invested impact per functional time unit will decrease, but it is never zero, unless the material was originally created with labor and from renewable resources that were already renewed. So how do we account for that residual impact [8]?

9. The Challenge

These are questions and topics that are rarely asked or studied—yet they are crucial to truly building a sustainable world. If we are to build a system in which humanity can thrive indefinitely, we must move beyond marginal efficiency gains and towards structural transformation.

Given the threats around us due to our current approach—accelerating climate change, increasing biodiversity loss, scarcer raw materials, and looming wars over resources and land (the U.S. wanting to annex Canada and Greenland; China draining Africa)—it is high time we stop just steering and instead build a fundamentally new framework that allows us to move forward indefinitely, and that ensures energy and materials remain available within renewable boundaries and within the planet’s organizational potential.