It’s summer in Detroit, and in all the tall buildings the air conditioners are humming. They have to run at near-full power even on evenings and weekends when the buildings are near empty, and on cool days. This would seem to waste a lot of power and it does, but it’s needed for ventilation. Tall buildings are made air-tight with windows that don’t open — without the AC, there’s be no heat leaving at all, no way for air to get in, and no way for smells to get out.

The windows don’t open because of the conceit of modern architecture; air tight building are believed to be good design because they have improved air-conditioner efficiency when the buildings are full, and use less heat when the outside world is very cold. That’s, perhaps 10% of the year. 

Modern architecture with no openable windows. Someone wants you to suffer for his/her art.

Another reason closed buildings are popular is that they reduce the owners’ liability in terms of things flying in or falling out. Owners don’t rain coming in, or rocks (or people) falling out. Not that windows can’t be made with small openings that angle to avoid these problems, but that’s work and money and architects like to spend time and money only on fancy facades that look nice (and are often impractical). Besides, open windows can ruin the cool lines of their modern designs, and there’s nothing worse, to them, than a building that looks uncool despite the energy cost or the suffering of the inmates of their art.

Most workers find sealed buildings claustrophobic, musty, and isolating. That pain leads to lost productivity: Fast Company reported that natural ventilation can increase productivity by up to 11 percent. But, as with leading clothes stylists, leading building designers prefer uncomfortable and uneconomic to uncool. If people in the building can’t smell an ocean breeze, or can’t vent their area in a fire (or following a burnt burrito), that’s a small price to pay for art. Art is absurd, and it’s OK with the architect if fire fumes have to circulate through the entire building before they’re slowly vented. Smells add character, and the architect is gone before the stench gets really bad. 

No one dreams of working in a glass box. If it’s got to be an office, give some ventilation.

So what’s to be done? One can demand openable windows and hope the architect begrudgingly obliges. Some of the newest buildings have gone this route. A simpler, engineering option is to go for leaky construction — cracks in the masonry, windows that don’t quite seal. I’ve maintained and enlarged the gap under the doors of my laboratory buildings to increase air leakage; I like to have passive venting for toxic or flammable vapors. I’m happy to not worry about air circulation failing at the worst moment, and I’m happy to not have to ventilate at night when few people are here. To save some money, I increase the temperature range at night and weekends so that the buildings is allowed to get as hot as 82°F before the AC goes on, or as cold as 55°F without the heat. Folks who show up on weekends may need a sweater, but normally no one is here. 

A bit of air leakage and a few openable windows won’t mess up the air-conditioning control because most heat loss is through the walls and black body radiation. And what you lose in heat infiltration you gain by being able to turn off the AC circulation system when you know there are few people in the building (It helps to have a key-entry system to tell you how many people are there) and the productivity advantage of occasional outdoor smells coming in, or nasty indoor smells going out.

One irrational fear of openable windows is that some people will not close the windows in the summer or in the dead of winter. But people are quite happy in the older skyscrapers (like the empire state building) built before universal AC. Most people are nice — or most people you’d want to employ are. They will respond to others feelings to keep everyone comfortable. If necessary a boss or building manager may enforce this, or may have to move a particularly crusty miscreant from the window. But most people are nice, and even a degree of discomfort is worth the boost to your psyche when someone in management trusts you to control something of the building environment.

Robert E. Buxbaum, July 18, 2014. Curtains are a plus too — far better than self-darkening glass. They save energy, and let you think that management trusts you to have power over your environment. And that’s nice.