Minecraft is not real life; You cannot stack blocks of land infinitely high. It’s a shame, because earth has a lot to offer as a building material. It is abundant. You can go out right now and put a handful of dirt in your pockets without anyone stopping you. Like in Minecraft.
To turn dirt into a plausible building material, you need another Minecraft staple: wood. If you take a bunch of sticks, weave them into a tapestry, then spread wet earth (also known by its technical name mud) and let it dry, you get acacia and claya method of wall construction that has been a mainstay for at least 6,000 years, predating adobe bricks. Some standing buildings still have adobe panels from 700 years ago.
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Look through my flesh and see my bones.
If we move fast enough through history, it is remarkable how consistent some activities are throughout the centuries. The tried and true technique of smearing a moldable, workable paste onto a rigid canvas as a way of building walls has barely changed over the eons. Even after the industrial revolution, the cutting-edge technique in the early 20th century was plaster and lath. Instead of random sticks, uniform wooden slats are used. Instead of soil, plaster made from gypsum, a mineral known for its fire resistance, is used. Same, but different.
The problem with spreading paste to make walls is that it is a skilled trade and incredibly labor intensive. The creation of a plaster wall on a lath canvas was done on site and required several coats, each with its own drying time. You spread it, then you wait for it to dry, then you spread it again and then you wait for it to dry again. It would take a skilled plasterer one or two weeks to do the walls of a typical house. The end result was at best either okay or a wobbly, warped mess. After all, you are fighting gravity.
As someone who has spent far too much time battling the quirks of a house built in 1901, I can personally attest to the joys and sorrows of old plaster and lath walls. It is impossible to mount even light objects such as picture frames on the wall, because even the slightest nail hole or similar would crumble and turn into dust. Victorian-era homes relied on picture molding near the ceiling, with hanging hooks for mounting anything important. You can’t just pick any random place to put a photo of your cat; you have to hang everything on a rope, and if you’re hanging one, you might as well hang everything.
What’s that? Do you want some side variety?
The plaster mix used then was a homegrown mix, with recipes that adapted to climatic needs and the availability of vernacular materials. The popular additive was asbestos. Although today we all know its intense toxicity, the reason why asbestos spread so widely from the 1870s to the 1970s was because it was extraordinarily resistant to fire. It was better to die from a lung disease you didn’t even know about than to die in a house fire you definitely knew about.
Which brings us to modern drywall sheets. Drywall, also known as drywall or gypsum board, is essentially a rigid panel that is made by pressing a thick layer of familiar plaster between two durable sheets of heavy paper. This creates a strong, smooth, easy-to-paint surface that forms the backbone of most modern interior walls and ceilings. Developed in the early 20th century, it wasn’t until the 1950s that drywall quickly became the standard for walls and ceilings in American homes.
On the surface, drywall looks the same and is made of the same material as a plaster and lath wall. While both are a hardened layer of powdered gypsum, drywall sheets are mass-produced off-site, in large factories, under strictly controlled conditions for consistency and efficiency, and then shipped to construction sites ready to be installed. Instead of a plasterer doing everything possible to ensure straightness on a 12-foot-high canvas of paste, plaster powder is trivially extruded into uniform shapes, sandwiched by protective layers of sturdy paper, like an inedible ice cream sandwich. Cheap, uniform and free of defects.
The final product is both more robust and more malleable. Because drywall is a dense, uniform mixture, hanging anything on the wall (from pictures to heavier items like shelves, televisions, or even cabinets) is a trivial exercise, whether it’s a simple nail for a small frame, drywall anchors for medium loads, or toggle bolts for the real heavyweights.
Picture rails are a kitschy, kitschy feature whose purpose few people know these days, but anyone who tells you they’re just as good for hanging things is committing perjury. Speaking from experience, I’ve spent a lot of my life dealing with the horrors of hanging things on outdated plaster walls. Something as simple as placing a coat rack became a job that lasted months. Screwing it to load-bearing wood studs is ideal, but plaster and lath frustrate typical attempts to identify where the studs are. Density detectors that differentiate “empty” spaces between studs are confused with the presence of wooden slats. Magnets that identify studs by the presence of metal nails are similarly thwarted by the thicker layer of plaster. Really, the only practical option is to drill several pilot holes until you find something solid.
The inedible ice cream sandwich.
Modern glue-based options also can’t compete with the erratic plaster mix of yesteryear. Paint doesn’t bite as well as it does with current paper layers, and sticker holders will fall off older walls and take a lot of paint with them.
All this adds up. By avoiding slatted louvers, buildings now have much more space in wall cavities for improved insulation and ductwork.
The fatal vulnerability of drywall has long been water damage. Fortunately, the silent innovation engine continues to operate, producing mold, fire and sound resistant gypsum panels. There are even “smart drywall” systems with built-in temperature, humidity and sound sensors. You’re in luck if you long to have your wall connected to Wi-Fi.
Yes, all this is boring. No sane person should get excited about a blank wall, much less read over a thousand words on the subject. But the wall of your house is a recurring reminder that most true architectural and design advances are almost completely invisible.
