What happened to the concrete stairwell

In the housing blocks of the sixties, the stairwell was a room. It had windows, a landing wide enough for a chair, and a radiator that worked. Children played there on wet days and neighbours borrowed eggs.

Modern codes treat stairs as an escape route. They are narrow, fire-rated and lit by sensors that switch off if you stand still. Efficient, yes, but nobody lingers, and a building without lingering is a building without neighbours.

Bringing the landing back

A handful of architects are quietly reversing the trend. In a Rotterdam block, a stair now widens at every third floor into a south-facing window seat. In Lisbon, a developer lets residents paint their own landing. Complaints about noise fell, because people knew who made it.

A building's character is rarely in its lobby. It is in the places you pass through daily, and what those places invite you to do while you pass.