First proposed by the late criminologist James Q. Wilson in 1982, the Broken Windows Theory of criminal justice holds that seemingly minor instances of social and physical disorder in urban spaces can contribute to an atmosphere of lawlessness that encourages more serious crimes.
So in essence the Broken Window Theory is a visual signal that creates an environment of acceptable poor behavior thus resulting in a vicious cycle of bad behavior.
I’ve always been a tad fascinated by things like this. These mad little triggers that set off cycles of behaviors. It’s endlessly nerdy but yet still fascinating.
I have a love of architecture and urban spaces.
I actually was going to go to school to become an architect, but that idea was squashed when my Aunt decided to tell me all about the legalities and insurance costs I would have to carry to avoid constant lawsuits.
Way to kill a dream.
But that doesnt mean I still don’t love architecture and urban planning. I look at spaces and see vistas.
I look at buildings and think about the internal and external feelings they evoke.
Am I getting nerdy enough yet?
Well I can walk miles in winding European streets just looking at the colors, textures, and contrasts of buildings that have stood for centuries.
I would take that over any modern city anyday. Yes, I love urban planning, but I love looking at old ancient buildings, thinking about what planning happened here, how did this happen?
I love walking old stone roads that have seen centuries of use. I contemplate how these things were built and all the lives that have passed over them.
I am a romantic at heart, I love the feel of environments like this.
It’s one of the reasons I hate living in the suburban American landscape. It holds no charm or mystery. There is nothing to think about when looking at the next housing track down the street.
There is no charm in the stripping of centuries old trees to make way for more McMansions.
I find myself wanting to get out.
I don’t know where I want to go. But I need to see cobblestone streets and be able to touch old masonry on buildings which have seen more than just a few decades pass.
I miss Europe. I miss the history and the age. I miss the appreciation for things that aren’t shiny and new.
Maybe I need a vacation, or maybe I need to move.
I haven’t decided yet.
I don’t need broken windows to tell me it’s time to go. But I do have one cracked window in the bedroom…. Perhaps it is trying to tell me something.