Recently, Carleton was awarded the Climate Luminary Honor for Decarbonization from a leading nonprofit centered on advancing sustainability in higher education. Such a recognition is well-deserved given our school’s great strides in waste management, energy efficiency and green building design. The latter, in particular, is quite challenging to miss these days with all the new student housing going up on Lilac Hill and Union Street, as each building is designed to satisfy rigorous “Passive House” standards.

While admirable progress has been made in integrating sustainable practices into campus construction, not as much attention is given to its inverse: demolition. And quite a lot of it has been happening lately, as campus housing is being refreshed under the 2021 Student Life & Housing plan. The current draft of the 2024 Facilities Plan, on whose advisory committee I serve, recommends even more. Why isn’t Carleton prioritizing the disposal of outdated structures in a manner that limits needless waste?

The construction associated with the housing plan is succeeding an earlier generation of standalone student residences, most of which are old single-family homes in the historic neighborhood south of campus. While the plan does call for the renovation of a handful of these houses, among them Parish and Page, a large number will be decommissioned and razed. Eleven homes have already been demolished since 2023. And even though the Dacie Moses House has been prominently advertised as a case of “preservation,” the majority of the structure itself, everything except the front porch and living room, met the same fate as its neighbors. 

It has been painful to see these homes demolished when many, if not all, contained old-growth wood that could have been salvaged and reused. Old-growth wood is distinguished from modern lumber by its far superior longevity and durability, resulting from highly tight tree rings obtained through centuries of slow maturation. Excessive logging practically eliminated old-growth forests decades ago, but their high-quality wood still survives in older homes, including many of those owned by Carleton. Yet under Carleton’s standard demolition practices, this valuable resource is squandered — a large excavator machine shreds the houses into bits that are then carted to a landfill.

A far better practice would be deconstruction: the controlled dismantlement of a structure that salvages viable materials, especially lumber, for reuse in new construction. The method has been given higher prominence in recent years due to its low environmental footprint; up to 85% of a typical building can be repurposed, according to a recent study by Hennepin County. Deconstruction packs a double punch in sustainability because it avoids the carbon impact of purchasing new construction materials. Why cut down more trees when we can reuse lumber logged a century ago?

Unfortunately, Carleton is not alone in its excessive reliance on the bulldozer. The construction and demolition industry (C&D) as a whole remains wedded to traditional practices, and the waste produced can be mind-boggling. According to the EPA’s most recent study in 2018, C&D generated 600 million tons of garbage nationwide, more than twice the amount of solid waste produced by municipalities that year. However, steps are being taken to encourage more sustainable practices: Portland, Oregon, instituted a mandate in 2019 that requires deconstruction for homes built before 1940, the first city in the nation to do so. Others, including Pittsburgh and San Antonio, have since followed. Higher education has been involved, too— Cornell University implemented a pilot project during its housing redevelopment in 2022, which evolved into a more intense study presented to the New York State legislature this fall. 

Even St. Olaf has attempted deconstruction, most recently during its Ole Avenue townhouse development, which concluded in 2023. The project website proudly declares that “the days of using a wrecking ball are gone; today, we look for ways to do it better.” In this case, a Twin Cities firm was contracted to harvest interior woodwork, flooring and hardware from century-old homes being replaced by new buildings. Though the original plan to move and repurpose these homes as residences was held up by unexpected complications, St. Olaf still ensured that the “bones” received new lives. These same commitments are disappointingly absent from Carleton’s own initiatives.

I do not want to suggest that Carleton is completely thoughtless concerning demolition. According to Vice President of Facilities Linda Weingarten, Carleton does try to offer unneeded houses to third parties on the condition that the structures be moved to a new location. Relocation would be a great solution since it would free up land for Carleton to develop while ensuring that residential real estate does not disappear from Northfield amidst a housing crisis. It has historical precedent, too; Carleton’s Seccombe House was moved from the site of Skinner Chapel to Nevada Street a century ago, and other nearby homes, including the cottage of Allen and Mary Nourse — the namesakes of Nourse Hall — have also been transplanted from their original locations.

However, relocation comes with many logistical challenges that limit its broader impact. Not a single house has been spared through relocation in the recent past. Therefore, another option is needed to ensure that the default alternative isn’t the landfill. 

Upcoming phases of the housing plan will see the razing of six more houses, and more will probably follow once the 2024 Facilities Plan is released. Now is the time for Carleton to implement more sustainable practices. Even modest efforts, such as committing to dismantling one house, are worthwhile. A pilot project of this sort could be an excellent educational opportunity for a class on sustainability or even archaeological research if the home being deconstructed is historically significant. It would be a superb realization of the “curricular innovation” called for by the Sustainable Futures Framework Plan.

Deconstruction does have its drawbacks. It is slower and more costly than standard demolition, and once removed, materials often need refurbishment before they can be resold. These are all very real obstacles. However, I am confident that Carleton can find a solution given its track record, which our geothermal system and two wind turbines attest to. And we are just down the road from experienced organizations in the Twin Cities, like Better Futures Minnesota, which employs formerly incarcerated people in deconstruction, or RETHOS, a nonprofit promoting sustainable demolition. Partnering with these or similar organizations could alleviate some logistical concerns.

St. Olaf has shown that it is willing to do what is right despite the associated challenges, and it has been partially successful. Carleton should be equally clear in its aspirations. Our institution has been quite influential in pushing the boundaries of sustainability, but it’s only by continuing to innovate that we can maintain our hard-earned reputation.