Termite mounds are marvels of engineering. Deep inside, the insects farm a fungus, their only food. It must be kept at exactly 87 degrees, while the temperatures on the African veld outside range from 35 degrees at night to 104 degrees during the day. They do it by venting breezes in at the base of the mound, down into chambers cooled by wet mud carried up from water tables far below, and up through a flue to the peak. Toiling with the tireless, compulsive work ethic of all ants, they constantly dig new vents and plug old ones to regulate the temperature.
Temperature regulation is a struggle familiar to any architect.
More important, the savings on electricity are passed along to tenants, so rents are 20 percent lower than in a new building next door. The complex is actually two buildings linked by bridges across a shady, glass-roofed atrium open to the breezes. Fans suck fresh air in from the atrium, blow it upstairs through hollow spaces under the floors and from there into each office through baseboard vents. As it rises and warms, it is drawn out through ceiling vents. Finally, it exits through 48 round brick chimneys that make the roof look to some like the chimney pots of Dickensian London and to others like the smokestacks of the Queen Mary.