When an earthquake destroys an entire neighborhood or a conflict forces thousands of people to flee their homes, the question that governments and humanitarian organizations ask themselves is always the same: How can we provide shelter, with dignity, to as many people as possible in the shortest amount of time?

For decades, the default response has been to set up tents or fabric shelters. However, when an emergency drags on—resulting in displacement lasting months or even years—tents prove inadequate in the face of the weather, lack of privacy, and insecurity. This is where industrialized and modular construction—the very technology that is transforming a significant portion of residential and commercial building—redefines the concept of shelter. And it’s important to remember that speed alone is not enough. A solution that can be deployed in a matter of days may remain in use for years. Therefore, industrialized construction must be conceived not as a rigid version of conventional housing, but as an adaptable infrastructure that serves as the perfect bridge between immediate emergency aid and permanent reconstruction.


Industrialized construction for emergency situations actually originated very close to the military sphere. The first rapid-deployment modular housing units to have a real impact—the so-called Quonset Huts—were developed during World War II to meet the army’s logistical needs, and even then they were designed primarily with ease of transport and assembly in mind.

And it’s worth looking back at another key precedent: the work of Jean Prouvé in France during the 1930s and 1940s. As early as 1938, this designer and engineer developed the “axial portal” construction principle that would give rise to his famous Maison Démontable, a demountable house that could be transported in parts and assembled on site with hardly any specialized tools. Its most significant application came at the end of World War II, when the French government commissioned him to design a series of houses to house the thousands of people who had lost their homes in the Lorraine region, one of the areas hardest hit by the conflict. The result, the 1944 Maison 6×6, already embodied many of the principles that today define industrialized emergency housing. Prouvé never abandoned his commitment to providing rapid and dignified shelter to those who needed it most: in 1956, in response to the wave of deaths among the homeless during the harsh French winter, he designed the Les Jours Meilleurs house at the government’s request.


That same logic behind these pioneers remains the key to their usefulness in crisis situations: by manufacturing the modules in a controlled factory environment and transporting them when they are practically finished, the need to find skilled labor in the midst of a disaster zone is eliminated; the risk of being at the mercy of the weather—precisely when infrastructure is most damaged—is avoided; and production can be scaled up with a speed that traditional construction simply cannot match. Industrialization moves the production of building components to the factory, ranging from lightweight, ready-to-assemble kits to volumetric modules with built-in utilities, bathrooms, and finishes. Furthermore, much of the quality control takes place before the module leaves the factory, which is especially valuable when the homes are intended to house people in situations of extreme vulnerability.

Scalability is perhaps the most compelling argument. Humanitarian organizations can order and deploy a very large number of units in a relatively short period of time, allowing them to assist multiple families simultaneously rather than sequentially—a critical factor when a disaster displaces tens or hundreds of thousands of people all at once, and every day of delay means more time spent living under tarps, with the resulting impact on health and safety. Compared to the typical six-month lifespan of a conventional tent shelter, many current modular solutions are designed to last several years—a crucial factor because, although these shelters are called “temporary,” the reality is that a large proportion of people displaced by conflict or disasters end up living in them for years.

The key is to assign the appropriate solution to each phase. In the first few hours, immediate evacuation and shelter are needed. This is followed by a transitional phase that can be prolonged: families must regain privacy, access to schooling, health care, and livelihoods. Finally, reconstruction requires permanent housing and integrated neighborhoods. Attempting to address all three phases with a single solution often results in temporary housing that falls into disrepair or settlements that isolate and segregate their residents.


The January 2010 earthquake in Haiti is one of the instances in which industrialized construction demonstrated its capacity to respond on a large scale. A modular housing system for temporary and phased housing, patented by the Spanish Red Cross in 2010, was used to successfully install and deliver more than 3,000 housing units in the Caribbean country. It is particularly revealing to compare that deployment with what happened shortly afterward in Lorca (Spain), where that same system had to be modified and adapted after initially being rejected by the beneficiaries, who demanded living standards different from those accepted in the Haitian context.

It is an uncomfortable but important lesson: modular emergency construction is not a one-size-fits-all solution; rather, its design must be tailored to the cultural expectations and minimum standards of each context—something that is sometimes overlooked when the same model is replicated in very different countries.


If there is one project that has gained global recognition in this field, it is Better Shelter, which was launched in 2013 through a collaboration between the IKEA Foundation, the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), and the social organization of the same name. It is a shelter with capacity for five people, built with a steel frame and lightweight polymer panels, featuring insulated piping and wiring, as well as a solar panel on the roof capable of powering a lamp and a USB port. It takes only four hours to assemble—compared to the months it can take to build a conventional home—and is designed to last about three years, far exceeding the six-month lifespan of a standard tent.

Better SHelter 3D Design. Source: https://www.revistaad.es/arquitectura/galerias/diseno-social/9034

The design was tested and refined in collaboration with real refugee families in Lebanon, Ethiopia, and Iraq before its final deployment, and since then it has been installed in countries such as Greece, Iraq, Chad, Serbia, and Djibouti, where, in addition to providing shelter, it has been used as a makeshift health center. In Boa Vista, Better Shelter, UNHCR, the Brazilian government’s Operação Acolhida, and the organization Hermanitos have tested a new generation of the system with the Venezuelan refugee and migrant population. The prototypes can be quickly erected in an emergency and later fitted with blocks, more durable roofing, and other local materials without forcing their inhabitants to relocate. The involvement of Venezuelans in selecting materials and designing doors and windows highlights a key lesson: technical modularity must be accompanied by social modularity. These solutions work best when they allow for local ownership, maintenance, and cultural adaptation.

The project received the Grand Prize at the Beazley Design Awards in the Architecture category—an unusual honor for a humanitarian solution—which underscores the extent to which well-executed industrialized design can combine functionality, dignity, and rapid deployment.


Following the 2011 earthquake and tsunami, Japan combined public housing, private rentals, and more than 52,000 temporary housing units, most of which were prefabricated. The country’s industrial capacity made it possible to respond on a large scale, and multi-story housing solutions—designed by Shigeru Ban and built using stacked shipping containers—were even constructed in Onagawa, where land was scarce.

The case also highlighted the risks of making decisions based solely on production considerations. Some units were located far from residents’ original neighborhoods, were too small, or did not provide adequate insulation for the climate in Tohoku. The assignment by lottery disrupted neighborhood networks and exacerbated the isolation of older adults. Subsequent improvements (insulation, porches, community spaces, and social support) confirmed that housing cannot be separated from location, transportation, and the community.


The earthquake that struck southern Turkey and northern Syria on February 6, 2023, with magnitudes of 7.8 and 7.5, claimed more than 53,000 lives and affected approximately 14 million people, destroying or severely damaging more than 850,000 homes. The immediate response once again relied on industrialized construction: hundreds of thousands of people were housed in container cities equipped with water and electricity, built in record time thanks to the mass production of these modules.

But this case also serves to put into perspective the limits of the model when the scale of the disaster exceeds the capacity for permanent reconstruction: two years after the earthquake, around 670,000 people were still living in shipping containers, and less than a quarter of the needed homes had been permanently rebuilt. One in four children who lost their homes in the earthquake was still living in temporary shelters two years later, with the resulting impact on their schooling.

The Turkish case offers a clear lesson for the sector: industrialized construction is extraordinarily effective for an immediate response, but it only fully delivers on its promise if it is accompanied by a definitive medium-term reconstruction strategy; otherwise, the “temporary” solution risks becoming permanent by default, not by design.


This is the context for REMODEC, a research project launched in 2026 that has received CDTI funding from the Ministry of Science, Innovation, and Universities, with the participation of the Spanish technology center CARTIF. This initiative aims to develop a comprehensive solution for the rapid, coordinated, and sustainable planning and implementation of urban reconstruction following a disaster.

The consortium brings together expertise in modular architecture (metro 7), BIM (atbim), artificial intelligence (Luce IT), water (Hidritec), infrastructure (sorigué), and energy and logistics (ARPA). CARTIF and ITA provide technological and research support. Among the challenges is the development of removable and reconfigurable modules—that are certifiable and standardized—capable of responding to an immediate emergency and later evolving to support long-term or permanent habitation.

In a way, it is a direct response to the lesson learned from the Turkish case: rather than improvising as events unfold, REMODEC aims to have a construction system already designed and tested—before the next disaster strikes—that can transition from an emergency response to a dignified and lasting housing solution, without having to reinvent the model each time.


Taken together, these examples paint a fairly consistent picture. Industrialized construction drastically shortens the time between a disaster and the first livable shelter, which in real emergencies directly translates to less suffering and fewer health risks for displaced people. It also represents a significant improvement over tents, offering thermal insulation, basic amenities, and, in many cases, an independent power supply. And when the design is well thought out from the start, it allows for a gradual transition from emergency shelter to a more permanent housing solution, rather than forcing affected people to move from one temporary solution to another repeatedly.

But these same cases make it equally clear that technology alone cannot resolve a humanitarian or migration crisis. The examples of Haiti and Spain show that a single design does not automatically work in every cultural and social context. The case of Turkey demonstrates that, without a definitive reconstruction strategy and the necessary funding to implement it, the modular emergency solution can end up dragging on for years longer than anticipated. And behind all the projects that do work well (from Better Shelter to REMODEC), there is a common thread: preliminary research and design focused on the people who will inhabit those modules, not just on the speed of manufacturing.

A responsible, industrialized response should meet five conditions. First, it should be based on realistic usage scenarios and timelines. Second, it should ensure accessibility, family diversity, and the protection of vulnerable people. Third, the settlement should be designed with water, sanitation, energy, mobility, and services in mind from the outset. Fourth, it should allow for repair, expansion, and reuse. And fifth, it should involve residents, government agencies, and local stakeholders in decision-making. It is also advisable to build capacity before a crisis strikes: certified systems, alternative suppliers, component stockpiles, pre-identified safe sites, assembly manuals, and digital models that allow for the rapid configuration of each deployment. Without such preparation, even the best module can be held up by permitting issues, transportation challenges, or a lack of infrastructure.


Industrialized construction has evolved from a technical curiosity into a central component of the contemporary humanitarian response, whether to natural disasters or to migration and forced displacement crises. The challenge ahead—as the Turkish case clearly illustrates—is ensuring that this technical capacity is accompanied by the political will and funding necessary to prevent temporary solutions from becoming, by default, the only available response for years on end. Industrialized construction can drastically reduce the time between the loss of a home and the restoration of a safe space. Real-world examples demonstrate its scalability, but they also serve as a reminder that speed does not automatically equate to quality. Housing that is poorly located, inflexible, or disconnected from services can prolong the very vulnerability it was intended to address.

The most valuable innovation will, therefore, be one that combines advanced manufacturing with people-centered design and long-term planning. In the face of a disaster or a migration crisis, the challenge is not simply to provide shelter: it is to lay the groundwork for a dignified, inclusive, and resilient recovery. Research projects like REMODEC are aimed precisely at this: preparing, before the next crisis strikes, a construction system capable of supporting affected people from the very first day of the emergency through to dignified and durable housing.


José M. Llamas
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