The Colonial Legacy of Concrete in the Global South

Concrete towers dominate the skylines of Asian and African cities – looming edifices embodying development. With access to the tools and materials of industrial modernity, the Global South steps onto the world stage showcasing its bounty. Yet, at the depths of rising ambitions, the construction material speaks to colonial legacies and extractive economics that result in power imbalances in the geopolitical sphere. A climate crisis on the horizon only intensifies the complicated relationship between building materials, sustainability demands, and sovereignty of many countries.

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The latter half of the 20th century saw most countries of the Global South breaking bonds with their colonial rulers, after which nation-building naturally ensued. Civic structures and infrastructure projects sought grandiose, finding purpose beyond functionality to dream of an image for the nation. Concrete was a popular material of choice. It was standardized and industrialized, yet was often foreign-controlled, thereby demanding continued colonial relationships.

The predominant use of concrete was a direct result of colonization. During these periods, European powers systematically devalued indigenous building techniques while imposing their own architectural standards, often reflecting in evolved architectural styles of the vernacular language. Traditional materials like earth, bamboo, and timber were stigmatized as “primitive” or “temporary,” while masonry and later concrete were elevated as signs of civilization and permanence. Material hierarchy became embedded in building codes, education, and financing mechanisms that continue to privilege concrete construction over local alternatives. Traditional craftsmanship eroded in many regions, casting shadows over any path back to these methods, even when environmentally preferable.

Despite this, the post-independence era held space for architects like Mahendra Raj in South Asia, and Pierre Goudiaby Atepa in Africa to pioneer structural innovations that often achieved material efficiencies beyond those common in construction in the Global North. B.V. Doshi and Mahendra Raj’s use of variable-thickness folded plates in Tagore Memorial Hall, for example, illustrates a solution that optimized material use while creating dramatic architectural expressions.

Today, 94% of cement is produced in the Global South, yet the profits, technologies, and environmental accounting often flow elsewhere. Indonesia, for example, generated 26.8 million tonnes of greenhouse gas emissions in 2022. Under global climate agreements, these emissions count toward Indonesia’s carbon budget—despite much of the cement being exported. Ecologically sensitive regions like Java are being exploited, with extraction endangering their hydrological systems and cultural sites. A similar pattern repeats across the Global South, where multinational cement corporations operate with minimal accountability to local communities while extracting both natural resources and profits.

In the same breath, the Global North’s architecture industry is amplifying narratives around condemning concrete use, citing its massive carbon footprint. This stance echoes previous colonial dynamics. After using fossil fuels to power two centuries of development and contributing more than half of cumulative carbon emissions, wealthy nations now preach restraint to regions desperately seeking to house growing populations and build essential infrastructure. Cement accounts for approximately 1.5% of carbon emissions in the United States and 3% in Europe, but reaches a staggering 20% in some Global South nations. The concrete question isn’t merely technical but is fundamentally about climate justice and the right to development.

“Many people, even architects, are biased against concrete in favor of wood, bamboo or clay,” notes researcher Urs Heierli, “but these materials don’t meet the needs of the Global South.” The math supports this assessment. By substituting a quarter of the world’s annual concrete use with wood would require increasing global forest cover by 14%—an area 1.5 times the landmass of India.

Challenging Material Colonialism

The ecological weight of concrete is carried along with the economic and power structures that govern its production and use. A form of “material colonialism” upholds patterns of the past around resource exploitation. Ending this cycle calls for foundational change in control around production.

Some regions are already exploring alternatives, as demonstrated by a social housing project in Palma, Mallorca by H Arquitectes that mined demolished building materials to produce new concrete blocks. The project employed lime-only construction for upper floors and hybrid approaches for lower walls to reduce dependency on high-carbon options.

Architects like Diébédo Francis Kéré, the first African Pritzker Prize winner, are reviving local building traditions suited to regional climates while incorporating modern engineering principles. However, these approaches must be promoted without romanticizing or overlooking the real limitations of traditional methods for meeting contemporary housing demands.

The need to build differently must be paired with communities’ right to determine their construction futures, recognizing what academic Thea Riofrancos articulates as the core dilemma facing climate activists- “While building clean infrastructure has unavoidable material extraction demands, we must distinguish between necessary extraction and the exploitative extractivism that characterizes the current cement industry.

As concrete continues to shape cities from Lagos to Jakarta, local architects ought to manage its environmental impact beyond the impact of technical solutions. The issue is deeply systemic, insisting on the confrontation of colonial legacies embedded in global supply chains and contesting the extractive approach of international construction industries.

Regions facing rapid growth and development need to build fast, and they must be allowed to do so on their own terms. Concrete will inevitably play a role in this process. Still, its use can be transformed through locally-led innovation, material efficiency, and economic models that prioritize people and planet over profit.