Architectural Hostility: How ‘Anti-Homeless’ Spikes and Uncomfortable Benches Are Designing People Out of Cities

Have you ever seen a public bench with a third armrest in the middle? You probably didn’t think much of it. But it’s not there for your comfort. It’s a weapon. Welcome to the world of hostile architecture.

The Un-sleepable Bench: Recognizing Hostility in Plain Sight

Once you see it, you can’t unsee it. Hostile architecture, sometimes called “defensive design,” is the practice of designing public spaces to intentionally discourage certain behaviors. It’s a war on rest, fought with concrete and steel. The most common weapon is the public bench, modified to be impossible to lie down on. This is achieved with individual seating pods, wavy or curved surfaces, or those pointless-looking central armrests. But the targets are not just benches. You’ll see them everywhere:

• Metal studs or “spikes” embedded in flat ledges and window sills to prevent sitting.
• Slanted surfaces at bus stops that you can only lean against, never rest on.
• Large rocks or awkward sculptures placed under bridges to prevent people from seeking shelter.
  These aren’t design flaws. They are deliberate, calculated features designed to make public spaces unusable for the city’s most vulnerable residents: people experiencing homelessness.

A War on Rest: The Subtle Tools of Exclusion

The methods can be even more insidious than just uncomfortable seating. The war on rest is often fought with tools that are subtle, almost invisible to the casual observer. Cities have installed sprinkler systems in parks that turn on at random intervals during the night, not to water the grass, but to soak anyone trying to sleep there. Some areas use high-frequency sounds that are deeply annoying to young people but are often inaudible to adults, a way to disperse teenagers. In many public restrooms, you’ll find harsh blue lighting, which makes it difficult for intravenous drug users to see their veins. These design choices are a form of non-verbal communication; they are the built environment telling certain people, “you are not welcome here.” This principle of using design to guide user action is a core tenet of all user experience (UX) design. If you want to see how digital environments are meticulously designed to encourage specific interactions, you can read more by analyzing the layout of this website. But in the physical world, when applied this way, this “user experience” design becomes a tool of social exclusion.

The Camden Bench: A Masterpiece of Defensive Design

If there is a perfect example of hostile architecture, it’s the “Camden Bench.” Unveiled in London in 2012, this concrete and steel monstrosity is a masterwork of exclusion. Every single feature is designed to prevent a specific human behavior. Its surface is sloped and uneven, making it impossible to lie down on. It has no backrest and no flat surfaces, preventing loitering. It’s covered in a special paint that repels graffiti. It’s designed to be difficult to hide things in and easy for police to see underneath. The creators hailed it as a solution to “anti-social behavior.” Critics, however, saw it for what it was: the perfect anti-homeless bench, a piece of street furniture whose primary purpose was to be hostile to human beings. It is the physical embodiment of a desire to push vulnerable people out of sight, rather than addressing the root causes of why they need a public place to rest in the first place.

It’s Not Just the Homeless: How Hostile Design Hurts Everyone

Here’s the thing about making public spaces uncomfortable for one group of people: you end up making them uncomfortable for everyone. We all become collateral damage in this war on rest. That bench with the dividers? An elderly person who needs to briefly lie down can’t use it. A pregnant person can’t stretch out. A parent can’t lay their sleeping child down for a moment. Those slanted ledges? They hurt everyone’s ability to just sit and take a break. Hostile architecture makes our cities less comfortable, less welcoming, and less human. It strips public spaces of their primary function-to be a place for the public. A place for community, for rest, for spontaneity. In a country like Ukraine, where public spaces have become vital for community connection and providing moments of respite for displaced people, the idea of intentionally making these spaces hostile feels particularly cruel.

The Opposite of Hostility: Designing for Dignity and Inclusion

What’s the alternative? Inclusive design. It’s a philosophy of creating spaces and products that are accessible and usable by as many people as possible, regardless of their age, ability, or situation in life. What does that look like in practice? It looks like long, flat benches without dividers, where anyone can rest. It looks like public seating with backrests and armrests where they are actually needed for support. It looks like providing sheltered areas that protect people from the sun and rain. It’s about asking a simple question: How can we design this space to make people feel welcome and safe? It’s a shift in mindset from “How do we stop people from using this space incorrectly?” to “How do we invite people to use this space joyfully?” It’s the belief that our public spaces should reflect the best of our shared values, not the worst of our fears.

Conclusion: The Kind of City We Choose to Be

Hostile architecture is more than just bad design; it’s a statement. It’s a reflection of a society’s priorities. It is the physical manifestation of a choice to deal with complex social problems like homelessness and poverty not with compassion and support, but with concrete and steel. It’s an attempt to make the problem invisible, rather than to solve it. The benches, the spikes, the sprinklers-they are all signs of a city that has, on some level, given up on its most vulnerable citizens. The next time you walk through your city, look closer at the benches. Look at the window sills. Ask yourself: Is this space designed for me? Is it designed for everyone? The answers to those questions will tell you a lot about the kind of place you live in, and the kind of society we are choosing to build.