Here it is...THE definitive narrative on the strategic value of width. From the lips (or finger tips) of the illustrious Mark B., saved on my hard drive forever.
Width and angles are not design “values” and therefore have little to no inherent worth; rather, they, along with big greens, enable the design value of equifinality. (Well, there is one aspect of design where width can be considered a value; to keep things simple I’ll cover it later.)
I define a “value” as something inherently good or bad at the most elemental level: a) it does not depend on something else for us determine its worth, usefulness, or any way you choose to measure utility, and b) it cannot be reduced into other values or “enablers” of values. Values form the heart of design philosophy. Therefore you can think of them as criteria for judging a course as well as a goal the designer sets out to achieve in building a course. (This is the efficacy vs efficiency point I made in an earlier post; efficacy for whether you agree this is a worthy value and for how much the course in question embraces it, and efficiency for how well the course lives up to the value.)
I define an “enabler” as something that enables a value or values to be expressed in the design. Without enablers, the value cannot be expressed, but the enablers themselves are not the values. Why not? Because their “value” is contingent upon other, more elemental things, namely values. Also because inherently they cannot be judged for quality without referring to actual values.
I define “equifinality” to mean a situation where multiple paths to a solution exist. Or: there are many ways to skin a cat. In the context of GCA, this means all the different ways to earn a par / win a hole. Equifinality means a golfer can take a variety of routes on a hole to hole out.
At its heart, clearly this is not my concept – I first understood it from Alister Mackenzie’s descriptions of TOC’s 4th, 10th and especially 14th holes. He called it “alternate routes.” What I am trying to capture that is different is the relationships among, equifinality, values and enablers.
Enablers of equifinality: width and large greens. To enable golfers of many different skills to take routes to the green appropriate to their games, you need width. But wide playing corridors just for the sake of width makes for a boring course – thus, again, we see that width cannot be a value. You need a goal – that would be the green, of course – but that goal, while attainable for all, needs to retain challenge for all, even / especially the skilled golfer.
Normally, to challenge the truly skilled you’d default not to wide and big but narrow and small, right? Small greens surrounded by trouble. But well-designed big greens present their own challenges – especially if they require the better golfer to take certain routes through the green. Well-placed challenges around the green as well as through the green – the “line of charm” – partly accomplish that. All that’s left is to find places to locate the holes that “unlock” the ideal angles for the better player.
Royal Melbourne is an excellent example of how to design big greens for that purpose. RM’s greens have all sorts of wings that serve to reduce the effective target area for the better golfer. A flag tucked on a wing, located behind a bunker, is a terror to the better player. The rest of us just aim for the middle of a huge green, no problem. Unsurprisingly, Pinehurst #2 and TOC accomplish similar feats (in their own, unique, sui generis ways).
This brings up second value enabled by width and large greens: variety. By moving the hole locations you change the playing of the hole. But think about it: for angles to really matter you need to move the holes a lot. And when you are able to move the holes a lot, you have to have width, massive width really, to “unlock” the angles.
This is how Meadow Club inspired my thinking: a very good course, the trees lining the playing corridors block many angles that otherwise would be enabled by the course’s large greens. This is the magic of double fairways – by sharing fairways, the designer is able to unlock angles without needing a million acres. Conservatism of design. And so I enjoyed Meadow Club greatly, a fantastic place to play, but in the end I sort of think of it as a “noble failure.” Note that doesn’t mean it’s a failure but rather the bold design was ultimately too bold. I hope we can forgive Mackenzie and Hunter for neglecting the impact of lawyers.
PS Where width could be called a design value is for what we might call “playability.” If the goal is to enable a golfer to play an entire round without losing a ball, then width becomes a value.