Is too soon to know it is too late?
We passed the ceiling we swore not to break. Now what?
At the midpoint of this critical decade, all scientific data confirms that our planet is drifting further and further from the threshold of climate stability. In 2024, global temperatures surpassed 1.5°C above pre-industrial levels — the ceiling we were never supposed to break, according to the Paris Agreement. Climate anomalies, ocean overheating, and record-high CO₂ concentrations are now the norm. We’re on track for 3°C — maybe even 4°C — of warming, with disastrous consequences. The crisis of life cycles — water, biodiversity, carbon — is tipping toward the irreversible. The human and economic cost is staggering: up to 18% loss in projected global GDP by 2050, mass extinction, ecosystem collapse.

Architecture facing collapse
Design that ignores the climate crisis
is part of it.
The building sector is responsible for nearly 40% of global emissions — and its continued growth is accelerating the crisis. More than 80% of the buildings that will exist in 2050 are already standing. Without drastic intervention, they will lock in the problem. Today’s design logic — focused on aesthetics, function, or postmodern detachment from climate reality — is part of the catastrophe. The disconnect between form and material substance, between architecture and environment, must give way to a systemic, integrated approach.
We no longer reduce. We restore.
Toward regenerative architecture
We must radically rethink our relationship with building. Regeneration — not just impact reduction — must become the central goal: to restore, to revitalize, to reinforce ecosystems. Inspired by thinkers like Naboni and Rahm, this approach stands on three foundational pillars:
Design with climate: leverage building physics, prioritize passive strategies, microclimates, thermal management to reduce consumption and boost resilience. For instance, shape urban wind paths or use evapotranspiration to cool cities naturally.
Design with nature: foster biodiversity, use bio-based materials, embrace circularity, implement regenerative hydrology. Cities must become places where materials are reused and water is managed locally and intelligently.
Design with people: create spaces that promote health, well-being, participation, and solidarity. Salutogenic design and co-creation with users lead to living, adaptive buildings that generate social connection.

Informed design
Digital modeling, parametric design, data-driven architecture, and artificial intelligence are becoming key tools for responsible creation. The iterative feedback loop — fueled by environmental data — makes it possible to adjust every decision, evaluate impact, and anticipate long-term effects. In this way, each project becomes a resilience driver, a component of a larger regenerative system.
Architecture is a signal. Make it count.
Building a regenerative future
The challenge is massive: only a handful of buildings in one lifetime might shift the mass of millions that already exist. And yet, every intervention can be an act of regeneration — a small step toward a stronger, more conscious system. Like a murmuration of birds that guide the flock from the edges, each actor has the power to influence the system’s direction — toward greater stability and ecological justice.
What if every regenerative architectural project became an act of contamination, of transmission, of environmental reimprinting?
In conclusion
Given all of the above, we’re left with one thing: the architect’s “window of action” is incredibly narrow. One life (as an architect), for maybe thirty buildings — facing down over a billion and a half already standing on Earth. “Et moi, et moi, et moi” as Jacques Dutronc once sang.
What if every opportunity to design architecture was, each time, a unique chance to regenerate the environment — one we absolutely cannot afford to miss? What if the existing building stock is, due to material limits, financial cost, or lack of know-how, simply unable to be upgraded fast enough to withstand climate disruption? And what if, as in the ICE Box Challenge, we could replicate that effect of contamination, of transmission, of systemic saturation?
What if every regenerative architecture project became a project of contamination, of transmission, of imprinting a different logic onto the built environment?
Redesign
Regenerate
Resonate
With every step, one question:
How do we turn our impact into loud,
lasting change?