In our latest article we explore the simple, but important question: How do you design a place for discoveries that don’t yet exist?
Cambridge Science Park is 55 years old.
Our first buildings were constructed by people who had no mobile phones. Their lunchtime sandwiches were not wrapped in bio-degradable packaging. It was a time when a cancer diagnosis was much less likely to be followed by treatment.
We can state those things with confidence, because transformative discoveries enabling all three were made by innovators working within the yet to be constructed Park.
Yes, Science Parks can improve the world. But, as we look toward the next half century and beyond, it is crucial to point out that neither the Cambridge Science Park’s founder, Sir John Bradfield, nor its architects, knew that its occupiers would invent these particular things.
Planning for future innovation requires humility. Even the world’s foremost scientists and innovators cannot be sure of the discoveries that will be made by future generations. Which creates a fundamental question as we look to refresh and upgrade Europe’s original Science Park:
How to design a place to develop ideas and technology that we cannot yet imagine?
The easiest approach would be to look at today’s newest science and provide facilities to match. The problem is that, by definition, it is unlikely to be cutting edge for long. And it is equally hard to predict the next world-changing breakthrough. A property developer in 1985 might have designed a place to develop the circuitry for the Sinclair C5. In 2013, they might have focused on spin-offs from Google Glass. Investing millions in facilities that may be obsolete by the time the scaffolding has come down, is not an option.
Many of the most successful innovation districts in the United States got this from the start. Kendall Square in Boston, Stanford Research Park in Palo Alto, Research Triangle Park in North Carolina, and Tech Square in Atlanta were not planned as finished places. They were created as frameworks that could evolve over decades, with flexible spaces that could support industries that did not exist when the first plans were drawn.
They understood that an architect’s role is not to pre-empt science, but to act as a facilitator. To design a place for the people – scientists, innovators and thinkers – who will shape the future.
Yes, they will need buildings to work in, but they come second. Before all that, innovators need to step into a place that inspires; that’s easy to navigate to and around; that has green spaces to enjoy, natural meeting points, places to eat and drink, and room for sport and extra-curricular activities.
This is not cosmetic. Place matters. The best science parks are walkable, attractive, social and full of opportunities for chance encounters. They have cafés, public spaces, cultural events and spaces where conversations can begin without an agenda and informal collaboration has a chance to flourish. Ideas will flow freely in a place the feels alive.
Great science parks invest in incubators, accelerators and shared laboratories. They bring together researchers, entrepreneurs, investors and established companies. They facilitate partnerships. That’s what transforms a cluster of occupiers into a community of innovators. As Kevin Costner almost put it in Field of Dreams: build a beautiful, collaborative place and they will come. But who?
The place needs a purpose and a philosophy. With it, an innovation cluster can flourish. Without it, it may just become a nice-looking business park.
A purpose needn’t be too prescriptive. For MIT, Kendall Square was earmarked as a place for entrepreneurship and the translation of research into real-world impact. Research Triangle Park was designed to transform the economy of North Carolina. Stanford Research Park was designed to bring innovators to the – then quiet backwater – of California. Tech Square in Atlanta was built to drive regional growth by connecting university research with industry.
We want Cambridge Science Park to grow as a world leading innovation hub. This overriding purpose guides decision-making from design to governance. It’s why we are creating a new public Park of Science to run through the district, with interactive scientific exhibits, play areas and enough to keep school field trips and families occupied all day long.
Leadership matters here. Short-term budgetary pressures can create a case for inviting anyone to become a tenant, but strong governance can shape a meaningful ecosystem.
Finally, ‘place’ isn’t just about what happens inside the Park’s red line. The aim is not to develop a Park for the benefit of the world at the expense of its neighbours. It must be of benefit to local people. This is about more than access, it’s about driving a wider purpose. In our case, the Cambridge Science Centre, housed within the park, seeks to make STEM accessible and awe-inspiring for young people. To coincide with our plans, Trinity College is developing a new education programme across Cambridgeshire, including pathways to future employment.
In short, planning a Science Park is an attempt to create the conditions in which ideas that do not yet exist can be discovered, developed and turned into things that change the world. It should also attract and inspire children who can become the scientists of tomorrow.
That doesn’t require a crystal ball. It’s about evolution, collaboration, and place making. Together, they can create the conditions for what non-scientists might describe as magic!