I’ve longed admired Yasmin Nair’s work, and it was wonderful to see her in the pages of NYRA reviewing American Framing (#38/39). I generally appreciated the thrust of the piece but wanted to offer a comradely correction of sorts. In her review she hints frequently at light-wood framing resulting in the deforestation of old-growth forests. While it’s true that historically framing lumber came from whatever trees were nearby, and that this practice certainly wreaked environmental havoc when paired with western expansion, these days the vast majority of framing lumber comes from spruce, fir, and especially pine trees (collectively known as SPF lumber). These species are desirable as framing lumber because they grow fast and straight. Because of SPF silviculture, most framing lumber is not from old-growth forests. Rather, SPF lumber most typically comes from managed tree plantations. Even throughout the milling process, waste products are used to make other goods as well.
This is not to say that silviculture under capitalism is necessarily a beacon of sustainability—many pine trees, for instance, are planted on single-species plantations and we know that this type of monoculture does not make for a healthy ecosystem. Not to mention that the production of lumber and wood products can be a dangerous business for workers and comes with its own environmental risks. (The glue that bonds plywood? It’s typically made from formaldehyde.) But it is true that light-wood framing is very sustainable compared to other materials and that “sustainable” forestry practices and improved regulations are becoming more widespread (forestry companies do have some economic incentive to manage forests responsibly). This is to say that if/when we have a more just and democratic planned economy, I’m certain that light framing will have a place within it. Part of the beauty of these renewable materials is that if forests are managed correctly and sustainably, they will sequester carbon and we will never run out of lumber.
Of course, this still leaves the issue of the grim reality of light-frame housing in America—the endless suburban tract homes that represent the apotheosis of American life under late capitalism. Light-wood framing has working for it the properties of being mass-manufactured (cheap!) and flexible. Under capitalism that combination ends up becoming all about the bottom line, but under a different economic system it could be leveraged to create affordable, fulfilling housing for all. I’m optimistic that the combination of more serious architectural study of the topic like American Framing and insightful criticism like Nair’s can help in some small way move us toward that vision.