I would not classify us as historical preservationists, per se, but more pragmatic situationists. I mean, existing ‘stuff’ is free, after all. If used intelligently, it can only help the budget. But what do we say about buildings that are so far gone and in such a state of disrepair, that to save and restore and adaptively re-use proves illogical? Sometimes this points to mere architectural failure. As an architect, this may be hard to admit, but some buildings just don’t work. Priutt Igoe had to go, for example. And what happens when we encounter a structure of historical and cultural importance that doesn’t work? Ourroussoff recently reported that Kurokawa’s famed Nakagin Capsule Tower is slated for demolition. He argues that this is a loss of culture, and specifically that we are not respecting the importance of this building (and by extension other buildings in similar predicaments) in our own cultural psyche. Its demolition would be like erasing a piece of our own collective history. But it doesn’t work. It leaks. It’s falling apart. We never really lived the way it meant to have us live. What do we do? The architect in me wants it to remain, in some capacity. (We all want Pennsylvania Station back). The realist in me says it’s broken and it can’t be fixed. Do we ship it away and put it in a park? Do we hit the pause button and wait for everyone to feel their way to consensus? Do we knock it down and chalk it up to a bold experiment that ran its course? Maybe we can auction off the units on eBay. Like ancient artifacts from Mesopotamia to Rome, little bits of Kurokawa will become a new diaspora living on in every corner of the world.