Blog 8 — From Prison to Healing Center: Decolonising Notions of Justice through Collaborative Intersystemic Design
Soundtrack blog 8: Follow the Sun — Xavier Rudd
Artwork blog 8: The Pillars of Creation are towering tendrils of cosmic dust and gas. The Pillars (NASA, Hubble image) are part of an active star-forming region within the nebula and hide newborn stars in their wispy columns.
Read other blogs in this series: Prologue, Introduction (blog 1), A Complex Matter (blog 2), Systemic Viewpoints (blog 3), Shapeshifting Design (blog 4), De-methodising Design? (intermezzo blog), The Relating Public Servant (blog 5), Relating Design Story (blog 6), The Collaborating Public Servant (blog 7) Collaborative Design Story (blog 8) and The Learning Public Servant: REWILD-ing the mind (blog 9) and Learning Design Story (blog 10)
Systemic design thinking and practices are gaining momentum by entering the field of government policies, services and program design. In the 10–part “Unbounded Affairs: Systemic Design (with)in Government’’ blog series a diverse collective of thinkers and practitioners explores the concept of “public systemic design” for a relational future. How to deliver “good” public services in an increasingly “complex” world?
For this intersystemic design “practice blog” Marlieke Kieboom spoke and co-wrote with Ontario-based architect Robert Boraks. In this “not an interview, yet not a story, yet not an academic article”-piece Robert shares how his experiences with the Inuit in the Far North (Canada | Turtle Island) inform his current ways of thinking and working in “social architecture”, a specific area that specialises in public institutional design, such as schools, hospitals and prisons. What can we learn from redesigning public spaces together with Indigenous people? How does this collaboration challenge colonial ways of thinking and acting on notions of “justice”, “punishment” and “incarceration” in our legal systems? What can designing public servants learn from an architectural design process? How to apply Western and Indigenous ways of seeing and designing in our public service work?
This blog talks about how in a “deep”, collaborative, multi-year systemic design scenario as described in blog 7 designing public servants can invite “shapeshifting” behaviors, such as deeply relating, collaborating and ultimately learning (blog 9) to generate more balanced, “relational” social and environmental outcomes for people, places and the planet.
Background and Learning Journey
This blog is a reflection of multiple conversations and email exchanges over the course of a year. The process of deep listening, followed by contextualised learning over a longer period of time is seemingly impossible to capture or replicate through a single, static piece of writing.
It is for this reason that it might be helpful to first share some elements of Robert’s personal background and learning journey. These are meant to help with our own relating to Robert’s understanding of the world, design, learning and “systems”. Within this process of “relating” it is important to acknowledge the deep harm that has been inflicted on Indigenous people in Turtle Island | Canada for centuries. It is within this complex context that we situate our own non-Indigenous, white, she-her/he-him selves and the vast array of topics we spoke about in contextualised, interwoven ways, over time.
A winding career path
Robert Boraks is someone who you need to get to know first before you can come to understand the integrity and intent behind his work in the complex world of institutional architectural design. He weighs his softly spoken words carefully before expressing himself, his squinty eyes peering over his glasses to make sure that you get what it is that he is inviting you to come and see.
Robert is a retired director from Parkin Architects Limited (currently an independent consultant) and Adjunct Professor at the school of Urbanism and Architecture at the University of Carleton. He was born in Canada to Polish parents who were displaced by World War II. Before studying Architecture, Robert got a degree in Geology. He shares that his studies of the creation and transformation of the earth very much informed his thoughts, approaches and understanding of architecture and its elements within. It explains his love for studying things that are somewhat “out of reach”, so to say.
Early on he specialised in the field of “social architecture”, which Robert describes as designing and delivering institutional buildings such as hospitals and schools that fulfil a societal role to improve the human condition, to ultimately help people. But how to go about such a societally “responsible” design task? Robert reflects:
“Architects have the privilege of making physical interventions. Above all else, it’s a responsibility that must be taken very seriously. New interventions, such as computers, cars or in my case buildings, can significantly alter our understanding and perception of reality. The objects we create, or the thoughts we introduce have the potential to either connect or distance ourselves from the world that we are a part of, and from the community that sustains us.” (Robert is referencing Marshall McLuhan — The Medium is the Message, 1964, red.). We thus need to ask questions, to hear, to see, try to understand, and to make connections between people to really explore how our commissions can and should be reflective of a better world.
I have had the opportunity of designing a number of schools in the Far North, in Nunavut where the Inuit live. Those commissions have won numerous awards from the architectural community. Though with each subsequent project a nagging concern formed in my mind that the work was not reflective of Inuit needs. Was I contributing to cultural genocide by reinforcing a settler concept of education? Worse, was this approach to Indigenous intervention contributing to a tragic reality which sees Inuit suicide rates being 10 times higher on a per capita basis than “Western” society. Why would that be?”.
By deeply listening, learning and reading Robert came to see how vastly different his thinking was from the people in the Far North, especially about concepts such as education and justice.
“You see, there is a theory that the written word introduced in ancient Greece ultimately led to the analytical, calculating, linear thinking individual in “Western” societies. Individuals who count and read see themselves disjointed from the collective.” (Bruno Snell — Discovery of the Mind, 1953, red).
But the nomadic Inuit’s understanding of the world is that of “wholism”, where everything and everyone is connected. This affects the way people think of concepts like justice and incarceration. “Western” societies often think that individuals should be separated from society or slapped on their hands when they have done something wrong. That concept is foreign to the Inuit. It’s not beneficial to their survival to separate individuals from a community. You can’t simply say “go away” when people depend on that person for making a fire, fishing or finding food. Instead, Indigenous peoples try to show those whose actions are deemed harmful to harmony “the right way”. Communities typically support those individuals with love and understanding, as opposed to exclusion or sanction. There is a focus on “healing”, based on features such as personal readiness, wholistic thinking, telling one’s story, flexibility, immediate intervention and a focus on values such as compassion and empathy. Their justice interventions range from traditional counselling to family group conferencing to community justice forums.”
With this insight came a new understanding of how to relate to the world and his architectural designs.
“Ever since learning with and from the Inuit I have come to see myself as a part of a system where everything is equal in balance: a person, a tree, a dog, a stone. To me a system is a totality of inputs, for example education, family or community cohesiveness, wealth or injury are all constituent elements of a result or outcome. It also stands for a continuously moving process in which ultimately everything is connected. That is a true system to me. This systemic view informs the decisions and choices I try to make in my work.
But how to mediate between the Inuit way of seeing the world as “interwoven” and the dominant (“Western”-based, colonial) thought frameworks that are based on “separation” when it comes to designing a “building” that is commissioned by a Western-based legal justice system?
“In an ideal world I wouldn’t design prisons. But just because my assignment is to design a prison where a person can’t leave, doesn’t mean that I can’t challenge that notion. How open can I make a closed situation? How can I bring in dignity as a value and enable people to choose things at their own volition, as opposed to being told? How does society and community fit in a prison? How can a building invite human interactions that contribute to healing?
We need to understand that whatever we do is made up of many, many things. We need to allow ourselves to be challenged by questions like: what will happen to a child when they can’t get access to a parent in prison, or even seeing them behind bars. What scars or traumas will be inflicted upon the child, and on the generations to come? These are the questions that intrigue me as an architect.”
Up next is his story about designing a different kind of prison, together with public servants and the Inuit in the Far North.
The “Deep” Design Task: Building a Different Kind of Prison through a Different Kind of Collaboration
In 2008, Robert was given a unique opportunity, a “special” assignment: design and build a “prison” in Rankin Inlet in Nunavut in the Far North of Canada.
The first step he and his firm took was to shape a different kind of collaboration process to enable designing together with the Inuit, the administrators in the Public Service, the engineers and the local prison wards.
“As an architect I know that I must bring a project on budget, on time as that is usually the ultimate, most important goal of the agency’s project manager. Our first real design task is thus to better understand the complex needs of that particular agency, and how those needs are affected by the responsibilities of other agencies that will affect the final outcome. But I typically also ask our client another question: are they prepared to invite everybody that may be affected by the design of our building? I initially often get the same response. Robert, why are you “overcomplicating things” by introducing ideas that don’t have relevance to the scope of work that has been identified? My answer is usually along the lines of trying to reduce risk — we do not want to find out about not meeting the requirements of the Ministry of Environment, the Ministry of Housing, or the Jefferson Salamander a year from now. That would seriously delay and disrupt the opening of the building and would have significant implications on the project. That argument is often convincing to broaden the scope and cast the web wider than originally anticipated.
In this project we were blessed with working with a lot of “far sighted”, broadminded and caring people. We were really given the space to explore people’s different ways of seeing and understanding the concept of “justice”, and what a prison should be: what is normal, what is real? “Western” concepts of justice are built on the notion of “separation” of people who are deemed “abnormal”. For the Inuit, justice is connected to healing, and to survival of the community as a whole. We wanted to include elements of both world views into our design for the building.
Robert also speaks to the element of “shapeshifting” in his design process. In our design process we had to “adapt” to each other in many ways, says Robert.
“It’s not usual for Inuit Elders to sit in rows, in a room and listen to a 2-hour presentation. In the Inuit culture very rarely does one speak specifically to a subject, rather one talks “rounded”, through stories. Traditionally the Inuit don’t ask direct questions. It’s considered rude, and so is answering a question directly also. You rather answer it through analogy, through experience, through silence. But we knew that we wouldn’t be sitting in their houses for weeks at a time, talking about numerous projects. We are usually not given the time to sit down and listen to stories which might have nothing to do with the school, prison or hospital. When we do our presentations, the clock is ticking by the hour.
So in the situation we were in, we created a respectful space to allow for adaptation to happen. Often people come in on a new project with their personal desires, personal stories, personal systems, personal philosophies, and they will see the issue through their personal elements, their personal defence mechanisms. As designing human beings we need to focus on growing the ability to listen to each other, talk to each other and to respect each other so that people can adapt themselves to the situation on both sides. And then you often find that we are not that different, that there are many synergies that are the same. There’s often one key point people have in common: the desire to do the right thing.
We, the architect team, would fully acknowledge that we were jumping in and out, and that we would like to spend more time, but can’t. So we would show many examples of our work, not just one finished product, many pictures and different ideas on how to approach it. And then we leave the room, and create space to let them talk amongst themselves. They wouldn’t feel pressured or intimidated. We would come back in when they were ready for us. And then we would have a conversation and hear about the “why” and then I would think almost always:“I didn’t think of that”. We adapted to their needs and they adapted to our needs, asking direct questions in a short amount of time. People really tried to understand and respect each other.”
Eventually the collaboration led to a very unique design, based on both the Inuit concept of “healing” as well as the Western concept of “corrections”.
Through our design process we got to challenge the Western notion of “corrections”. The element of “healing” took a prominent place in our designs. One important change as a result was the name of the project, from “Rankin Inlet Prison” to “Rankin Inlet Healing Centre”. We also ended up choosing a “curvilinear” design with lots of curves, as opposed to a linear design in which straight lines are dominant. The Rankin design is meant to heal the inmate as well as society and represents the way nature heals itself in circular ways.
For the Inuit, the meaning of life is to share. This was another main consideration in the curvilinear design as well as in important public areas of this “correctional healing facility”. The day room, the chapel, and the gymnasium are communal spaces within the project that are controlled without depriving the inmates of intercommunication with their known environment and with society. All signs and way finding are both in Inuit language and in English. We used a lot of natural materials such as wood.”
What kind of elements helped to allow this project to break down barriers, and become a building built “outside the (“Western”) government box”? Robert thinks there are a few elements.
“First it was the team. The government administrators were prepared to get out of their comfort zones and support new ways of doing things. A special dynamic formed between them, the engineers and the local community. People felt liberated from Western approaches to corrections. Together they had a vision of making something really good. Things just clicked. Second, the designers were open to trying out different ideas. Some were straight, some were curvy, some were colorful. We were given the opportunity to test many things. Third, I think the entire project was very much an expression of intuitive feelings as to what seemed “right”, and trusting that those feelings could be expressed in this complex space.
And yes, as an architect I have to support agencies in justifying decisions, even when those feelings and responses are difficult to quantify. To support the agencies I have learned that it is important to try and translate “feelings” into quantifiable or justifiable bits of language that are consistent with the code or language associated with that particular agency. That’s part of an architect’s metier. At the same time, architects, designers, art folks, are fortunate in the fact that they are given a bit more latitude to explore “crazy” ideas.”
The project was built and the “Rankin Inlet Healing Centre” opened in 2012. Robert reflects on the societal outcomes 10 years later.
“Now the big question is of course always: has it worked? The answer is: maybe. Maybe not. When we look at the numbers, maybe not. Suicide rates in Nunavut are still high, prison numbers are still high. There is lack of employment, inadequate income, inadequate housing. In general it leads to having a lack of positive connections outside of prisons for people who are imprisoned. But government agencies and communities are more aware of and sensitised to the justice issues and different views on justice. Through the project the different parties are more proactively and creatively responding to justice issues in a more consensual, cooperative manner. There is a common will to succeed. But it takes time to change as a society.
This article “A Tale of Two Jails” speaks to the differences between Rankin Healing Facility and the decades-old Baffin Correctional Centre in neighbouring Iqaluit.
Maybe the question of “has it worked” isn’t the right question to ask ourselves, thinks Robert.
“There’s one story that I’d like to share. One of the public administrators of this project flew up a couple of years later to check something out. He got in the taxi with the taxi driver, who was Inuit, and said: “Take me to the jail, please”. And the taxi driver got really pissed off, and turned around and said: “It’s not a jail, it’s a healing facility.” That made me so happy. It was seen as a place of healing, of dignity, where they are proud of an institution.
In that regard I strongly believe that we need to change our perception of government services. We should stop seeing and running governments as one would a business. Businesses are in operation to maximise return on investment to its shareholders. Governments exist to ensure the well-being of its citizens and the many cultural, environmental and spiritual elements that define a people and its lands. Some of those elements are hard to quantify. Unfortunately, and far too often, we try to circumscribe an effort by reducing it to a small number of quantifiable and controllable parameters and try to measure those. But how do you give a number to sadness? I don’t know. Do we then ignore it? No!”
Having been party to the delivery of many complex projects, Robert is aware that constrained project budgets, timelines and staffing numbers often result in projects being defined by limited and well-defined scopes of work. But he thinks there is something else that we need to try.
“We should be open to recognising that our interventions may be affected by, and will also affect numerous parameters which fall outside of our silos. We need to ask ourselves whether we are prepared to ignore the fact that if we limit our scope to our silos, if we ignore the voices or feelings or spirits or aspirations or potential negative repercussions of not addressing the myriad of interrelated complexities that define the task, then are we truly meeting our responsibilities?
I truly believe that irrespective of whether one is an architect, a data analyst, a policy maker, or a public service designer we must be bold and open minded to expand from our comfort zones. We need to try.
The experience in Rankin has made me realise that lessons learned from the Inuit in the North have significantly affected my work when it comes to creating interventions in the South. Rather than bringing knowledge to the North, I have been humbled in realising that we have much to learn from the North. Perhaps, through our Southern insistence to compartmentalise and reduce, we have lost the way?”.”
Reflections on Practising “Deep” Public Systemic Design
Robert’s experiences give us a glimpse of what designing systemically in more collaborative ways can achieve: introducing a new building, policy, service, website, program can make people see, understand and literally walk and interact in different directions, relating to each other in newly gained ways. What else can we learn from Robert’s story about “collaboration” in a public systemic design practice “in between” different world views?
Most people naturally and unknowingly practise systemic design. Systemic design is everywhere and emerges naturally but people might not call or see it that way. Robert himself did not mention the term “systemic design” once while we spoke. The term lives more strongly with consultants and academics than elsewhere. It’s the task of public servants to recognise systemic design practice and seize its potential, not with a set methodology, but with a mindset of, in Robert’s words: “far-sightedness, broadmindedness, care, curiosity, experimentation and latitude towards “crazy ideas’.” This helps to open up and expand people’s views and approaches towards designing more “relational” public services, projects and policies that can ultimately “resonate” with the complexity of the contemporary world.
A second insight derived from our year long conversation is the important systemic design skill of understanding each other’s needs, through understanding each other’s languages. This art and practice of “bridging” is intrinsic to systemic design practice, something Robert calls “the dilemma of the architect”. How can people learn each other’s language, both spoken language and world views, so that we better understand and relate to each other’s needs? On this aspect it is important to bring our leaders along in this process. Robert reflects:
One effective thing thing i’ve seen is when you can get the “rank and file” such as the prison wards and managers associated in a project like this. When you get them to talk the same language and build momentum and enthusiasm, then administrators and politicians are really happy, because then they can get in front of the parade. All of a sudden they see: “this looks good, I won’t be bothered”. Building up this kind of consensus builds inertia, a self-sustaining push. Everyone is afraid of change. But when everyone is saying: “let’s change”, then it becomes hard or irresistible to hold back.
A third and last reflection is on the role of experimental learning space in systemic design. Robert’s government assignment was still to build a building, a prison, and the Inuit had to comply within that “Western”, dominant design brief, not dismantling the “master’s house”. Was the design brief free enough to break free of “systemic constraints”? What would the Inuit and Robert’s team have come up with if they were given even more free play? In this respect Robert thinks learning plays the most important role in expanding and liberating our views and approaches.
“I do not delude myself and think my buildings will solve all the problems in the world. Ultimately the outcomes depend on the human interactions that created them. Corrections, justice and healing are all human interactions. I can create a really shitty building, and have a really successful jail, because the humanity in there allows it to be. I can have a beautiful jail, but if the people who work there are jerks, it will fail. For me the building is the canvas upon which social and environmental interaction can occur, therefore the process of collaboration, of designing that building needs to be reflective of the future interactions we’d like to see happening. The value of design thus lies in the process, in the collaboration, and in learning within those collaborations.
We need to be open to ask ourselves tough questions during design processes: “Are we participating in cultural genocide?” What can we learn? What can I bring along to different projects? What can I teach about the whole process of what I learnt to my University students ? I know that I won’t get it all correct, not a chance… but I try, by being willing to learn and being humble about it.”
“The building is the canvas upon which social and environmental interaction can occur. Therefore the process of collaboration, of designing that building, needs to be reflective of the future interactions we’d like to see happening. The value of design thus lies in the process, in the collaboration, and in learning within those collaborations.”
What’s next
In blogs 5, 6, 7 and 8 we discussed how to recognise a “light” and “deep” intersystemic design scenario. We introduced the “shapeshifting” behaviours (or codes) of “relating” and “collaborating” for public servants who aim to shift and expand systemic views and approaches. We also introduced “shapeshifting” hacks for how to start “shapeshifting” in our own work context. “Learning” will be our theme in the next intersystemic design scenario “Far + Wide”.
Further reading/watching/listening
- Listen: A “Great Simplification” podcast with Jodi Archambault (2022), a member of the Hunkpapa and Oglala Lakota tribes and the Director of Indigenous Peoples Initiatives at Wend Collective. The podcast speaks about Indigenous and Western relationships, colonization, reciprocity and resiliency.
- Read: Reflections by Jason Pearman on the trials and tribulations of embedding experimentation in the Canadian Government — States of Change -2018, by Giulio Quaggiotto.
- Listen: A “For the Wild” podcast with Tyson Yunkaporta (2021), an academic, an arts critic, and a researcher who belongs to the Apalech Clan in far north Queensland, Australia. “As we welcome the call to change our conditions and participate in the great “thousand-year clean-up”, we explore hybridized insight, the ramifications of clinging to dichotomous identities, and how genuine diversity is tangible preparedness and emotional resilience in motion.” Tyson wrote the book “Sandtalk: How Indigenous Thinking can Save the World”.
- Practice: Indigenous-led Design Studios are few and far in between, but they are a growing field. Check out Brook/McIlroy Indigenous architect and design studio.
- Read: Understand the role of colonisation in the prison industrial complex by reading about it, for example in this article by the Intersectional Analyst (2017).
- Read: “Dancing with a Ghost: Exploring Aboriginal Reality” by Crown Attorney Ruper Ross (1992). “There is a fundamental difference in the world view of our two cultures that westerners need to understand, appreciate and accept before they can win the respect of the Native Peoples. Only when this has been achieved can everyone begin to work effectively together.” This book is written from the perspective of a (white, Western) Assistant Crown Attorney who is struggling with different notions of Justice in a legal environment.
About the Author, this Blog series and the Collective
Get in touch! My email is: first name dot last name @gov dot bc dot ca
Marlieke Kieboom (white, she-her, Zeeuws-Flamish-Dutch-German and “unknown” roots, MSc Political Anthropology + MA Complex Emergencies, immigrant settler* in Canada | Turtle Island) is a public service designer with 20+ years of experience and knowledge in the fields of social innovation, systemic (service) design, complexity science and public policy. Marlieke has led major collaborations between academia, governments, non-profits and communities in Europe, Canada and Latin America. She finds joy in developing new approaches for coming to see and relate to each other and the complexity of our worlds in collaborative, participatory and decolonised ways. Read more about what inspired Marlieke to write this blog series in the Prologue.
Marlieke wrote this blog series based on conversations with a like-minded and like-hearted collective — the “Ministry of Unbounded & Entangled Affairs” — whose people work and think at the intersections of design, public policy, complexity, social justice and deep ecology. The series was written over the course of 2022. Read more about the collective and the blog series in Blog 1.
Marlieke currently works for the Public Service of British Columbia in the field of public service and systemic design. This blog series was written in her personal “in-between” time on personal title. Her personal views are mixed in with the collective she spoke with. They do not represent the political views of the government she works for.
Consider making a one-time contribution via Paypal or becoming a supporter on Patreon to get early access to upcoming blogs and express gratitude for 300+ hours of “free” research and to nurture future writing, community building and the development of open learning material on systemic design for public servants. Thank you!
* “A settler is someone who benefits from the privilege of having their worldview imposed upon the lands and the bodies of everyone living in these lands” — Chelsea Vowel (Vice, 2019)
