What does an Architect do?

Annie Choi wrote an open letter to Architects. It’s great, everyone should read it. She makes some good points and in her follow-up interview she roasts us in that factual type of way. From our eccentric personalities to esoteric lexicon, she really pulls back the curtain. It seems many people can tell you what architects are like, but can’t really tell you what architects do. While writing versions of this missive it dawned on me that there is no real expectation that they (random public) should know what architects do. Ask any architect what they do and they’re likely to make an abstruse joke, and then laugh at their own joke--I do this often. So, I am not sure why I am surprised when they find out their assumptions about what I do are inaccurate. Furthermore, when they find out what Architects really do, some of them just deny. It’s really quite entertaining. But here’s the ironic catch -- Architecture is a licensed profession. And the purpose of that license is to “safeguard life, health, property, and the public welfare”. That is taken from the Architectural Practice act in the State of Texas. All other states have something similar and it can be found here: AIA Practice Act By State. Architects take national boards to ensure minimum competency. Just like Medicine, law, engineering, accounting, and others. So, in this essay I’m going to explore, primarily anecdotally, why most people don’t know what architects do, how the architecture most people see fits into that reasoning, and briefly explain through a simple analogy what we really do.

Well, why doesn’t the public really know?

Most people think they know what architects do for many valid reasons, perhaps they took an Art and Architectural history course or they have read the Foutainhead. The first is an excellent source for understanding Architecture, its relation to Art, and the triumph of built human achievements in a historical context, but informs one little for the practice of architecture today. The second is idealized fiction in almost every sense. There are a few socially accurate thematic elements, but other than that, it’s a fantasy novel for individualists with delusions of grandeur that supports the lone genius myth. It would make good reading for Joseph Campbell fans. Fodder for another essay. I often recommend Erik Larson’s Devil in the White City as an accurate depiction of the practice of Architecture, again, in its chronological context. It is also a good history of architecture from the turn of the 19th to 20th centuries, includes some big name folks, like Burnham, Sullivan, and Wright, and, as if you needed more, includes a factual murder mystery--its so good you couldn’t make this stuff up. The point here is that not many people understand what Architects do and in most people’s defense, there are not many good sources that provide an accurate understanding of what architects do. Especially in the 21st century context.

Let’s start with popular media as Architects have a long history there. Architects are portrayed in a very stylized sense in movies and television. And this is no surprise. It would be quite difficult to dramatize our day to work. So, from Mike Brady and Wilbur Post to Sam Baldwin and Michael Newman we only tangentially see what architects do and most of that is inaccurate. Drafting boards and t-squares are common enough.  Although, I will note that Tom Sellick played architect Peter Mitchell, and while he did little to impart what architects do, it was aspirational in a sense. I was young and impressionable and thought perhaps I could be an Architect and a PI who drives a ferrari. Magazines and literature spend a lot of word space talking about built objects, the design of space, the way it makes us feel, and generally making heroes of the Architects supposedly responsible. This source definitely gives a little more insight into what architects do, but ultimately is pejorative to the profession as a whole as it propagates a culture of hero worship while occluding the collaborative nature of designing and building structures. I would mention the plethora of home makeover shows I’ve watched where the architect of record is a footnote in the credits, but that seems, at this point, to be kicking Mr. Ed. The point being, there is not a reasonable expectation that the average person would understand what Architects truly do. Incidentally, I am almost certain someone could, and possibly will, argue that I don’t know what an architect truly does. It would be an excellent discussion and I am also certain I would learn a lot from it.

If we broaden the scope just slightly and apply the same logic, we find there is no reasonable expectation for most of us to really know what other knowledge professionals do. For example my father is a Toxicologist. He’s been my father since 1977, I still only have a cursory understanding of what he did, he’s retired now. In fact, just to save time, I usually tell people he was a chemist; they accepted a bit more easily. My mother was a nurse; no one asked any further about that one. Presumably because it required no additional explanation. Although I think many of us would be surprised to find out what and how much nurses really do. The pandemic may have given us all much more insight. The same logic applies to doctors, lawyers, accountants, and engineers. We think we know what these professionals do, thanks in large part to TV,  but when it comes down to it, we really don’t. To be clear, there really isn’t anything wrong with not knowing, until perhaps we let our ego’s tell us that what someone does should be closer to what we think it is. Maybe that’s a different essay topic.  

How what we do see informs us

If you have been in a building other than a single family residence, there’s a 99% chance an architect was involved in designing it. And I say 99% to allow for exceptions that exist and because only Sith see things in black and white. The common understanding most people have is that architects are only responsible for designing how buildings and objects look -- the aesthetics. This, most likely, comes from Architecture’s long association with Art. And while architects very much care about how buildings and objects look, and sometimes it’s really great, in the long run, architects are responsible for shockingly little of this. It would be similar to saying when you buy clothes and assemble them into a fit for the day, you have designed fashion. In a way, you have; you’ve an eye for styles you like, you’ve carefully selected things that appeal to you and assembled them into a look, for you. You’ve designed your own fashion. Well done. Sometimes that look is complimented, other times someone threatens to call a certain police force in to remove you from public lest anyone get offended, or even worse, ideas. But you didn’t create your particular style from nothing; from thin air. No, you started with clothes. The idea of covering our bodies and the design and making of clothes has been around for a long time. Take pants for example. The idea of using stuff to cover one's important, or vital, areas has been around for a long time and their functional design, materials, and means of construction, has changed and evolved dramatically over the years.  Adam used a leaf, the Scots still wear kilts, the Japanese have a long tradition of robes, and I went to a toga party in college. Somewhere along the line, covering the entire leg became the thing to do (many of us are still angry about this). In the 1800’s cotton, or denim, was used to construct pants -- much more durable. Incidentally, the rise of denim corresponded to the advent of mechanized looms. Levi’s made a name for themselves by using copper rivets at important stress points (now largely done for nostalgia and a marketing gimmick). I am certain you can list some pants, or many other clothes, modifications that started as functional evolutions and became aesthetic styles. Not to mention the notion of machinery in production. In, fact, to illustrate that point, very few of us get measured for pants and get them hand sewn. Maybe some for suit pants, but for the most part you get measured and suit pants that are already constructed to fit a range of sizes are altered, by hand, to roughly your size. Roughly being a function, usually, of how much you paid for the suit to begin with. Point being, the range of sizes is covered by machine production to make the process of getting you into, hopefully stylish, leg prisons economical while also profitable.

Architectural aesthetics are similar. It follows styles that started as functional evolutions, became an aesthetic look that imparted some social value, we figured out how to make machines create the look (making it cheap to make) and then mass produced it. Raised panel cabinetry, fluted columns, and crown molding being just a few good examples. A few more might include leaded glass windows, windows or fenestration in general, doors, and the list goes on. Most modern day architects, 95% of them anyhow, are picking products from manufactures and assembling them into a look. Much like you pick your clothes from fashion lines. What about the other 5%? Those are the architects that become rather well known and begin to inform the public understanding. Though I would argue that many of those designs are not architecture we would want to live in. This is commonly referred to as avant garde architecture. Yes, it pushes boundaries, but eventually becomes like bell-bottoms, dated. Sometimes even worse. For more on this read about Frank Gehry’s Stata Center, check out Alex Beam’s book “Broken Glass: Mies van der Rohe, Edith Farnsworth, and the Fight Over a Modernist Masterpiece”, or google Brutalism. It is important to be truthful here on two points. Some of these avant garde designs achieve a kind of timelessness. While they are buildings and I’m sure they have their issues, they remain powerful representations of human achievement in both a geographic and chronological context. A lot of the time because they are tied to something greater than themselves. The second point is that some of that famous/infamous architecture provides useful ideas to the field and they remain. Sometimes these ideas usher in a style or an ism. Take for example Modernism or Postmodernism. Sometimes the details of these structures become standard design features, maybe because they work well, solve a nagging problem, or maybe because they’re just popular, and we keep them. Incidentally flat roofs were all the rage and Architects loved the idea of them. Almost no one else, especially builders and eventual owners loved them. Why?, they leak. Again, being truthful, leaky roofs and cracked concrete are as inevitable as death and taxes. There is one more key component to Architecture and Aesthetics that needs pointing out. Architects are hired by clients. Clients usually have a say in the aesthetics of what they’re paying for. The client that brings an architect a big budget project is kind of a mythical unicorn. We all love to talk about this kind of Architecture and I am no exception. But for the purposes of this missive I am talking about the everyday architecture, the buildings we go in and out of everyday. Those were designed by architects.  

So, if aesthetics are only a small portion of what Architects do, and even that small portion is not really born of singular genius, what do architects actually do?

Architects design buildings. But, wait, I just explained that they don’t really do much of the aesthetic parts, what’s left? That’s a good question and the answer is -- a lot. Let’s give the pants analogy some legs. Who decides what thread to use and what stitch spaces create sturdy seams across different types and thicknesses of material? You probably would not use the same thread, stitch type, or spacing for wool pants as you would for denim pants? What about leather pants (if you’re weaning leather pants regularly, you’re likely not to care)? Who decides what information to put on that little label that tells you how to wash, or dry-clean, your pants? Who decides if the material being used is flammable, or hypo-allergenic? You see where I’m going I think. Let’s say you hired someone to design you some pants and they produced measured drawings, just for your size along with a set of specifications for material, stitching, etc. Then you took those drawings to a pants builder and had them made. You get your custom pants and during the first wear you break out into a rash and the seam bursts in the middle of your big function. Embarrassing and painful. Who’s to blame? The pants builder? If you provided the pants designer with a list of fabrics that you were allergic to and they specified one of those fabrics, well, certainly not the pants builder. If the pants designer used stitching standards produced by the American Stitching Standards for Hip Occluding Leg Encasings and the pants builder’s stitching didn’t match the spec provided, well perhaps. Is there a code or standard, perhaps published by the International Belt Commision that says “pants shall be designed such that seams shall not rupture on the dance floor at weddings' '? I think you see where I’m going. Buildings are orders of magnitude more complicated than pants. Which means there are orders of magnitude more opportunities for success and failure. Architects lead this process and they don’t do it alone.

A little note here on Residential Design. You see, the building of homes has become so standardized and codified (studs on 16” centers, etc.) that most conditions are taken into account and design professionals are not always needed to ensure safety, construction quality, and value. Of course, many people hire Architects and Engineers to design homes. This has two factual basis points. The first being this is historically applicable and architects are mentioned extensively when discussing historic structures. We all see homes everyday, perhaps more than any other type of structure, and so it’s only natural to presume this must be what architects do. Second, and tangentially related, in the 21st century many places do not require an architect to be involved in the design and construction of most single family residential structures. I say many and most because it can get complex and there are always extreme examples that are exceptions to any hard and fast declaration. But, for the most part, this means residential architects service a certain socio-economic sector, those that can afford to hire or pay something not required. Therefore this makes hiring an architect to design your home, in most cases, a luxury -- not required, but definitely value added. In many land rich areas home building has become a large business enterprise. This has pros and cons, large volume reduces individual cost, but also creates aesthetic homogeneity.

But what about buildings for the general public, everything except my own home? Schools, churches, restaurants, hospitals, DMV’s, that sort of thing. That’s where architects and engineers become necessary. You have a reasonable expectation that any building you enter in your day to day life is safe, meets code, is accessible, won’t fall down, has low to no likelihood of catching fire, and in case of emergency, you can get out of it. That reasonable expectation is based on the required work of design professionals like architects, engineers, and builders implementing a vast array of codes, standards, and laws. And this whole process is, most of the time, led by an architect.

Architects begin by assessing the goals of the building project. From size and function to energy consumption, number of bathrooms, and overall cost; Architects help plan and balance these goals from start to finish. Aesthetics is one of these goals. And, as we discussed with our pant analogy, the more common or popular the aesthetic or style, the less expensive it will become as our capitalist production machine seeks to make those construction details as inexpensive as possible. So, it’s pretty safe to say for 95% of building projects budget is driving the goals. And for the other 5%, budget is driving, but most likely no one is talking about it. There are many other goals. Think of the space you live in. Temperature controlled, some natural light, place to use the restroom, bathe, prepare and store food. Maybe a garage, maybe not. Pandemic forced many of us to create a home office and for some reason it was still cold. Now compare that with a hospital. The goals of a hospital include all the goals of your living space, plus about a million more -- designed and constructed to a vast array of codes and standards. Architects manage this process from “Hey Architect, can you design us a hospital?” all the way to “My daughter was born yesterday in the pediatrics wing of that new hospital that just opened.” By the way, when you design a medical building that includes imaging; x-ray, MRI, or the like, in addition to the array of engineers the architect will hire and coordinate with, the architect also hires a Physicist. That’s right, and honest to goodness Physicist.

So, while most architects can explain to you the difference between Ionic, Doric, and Corrinthian columns, and what those styles mean, in their respective time periods, we don’t use them anymore and if we do, they’re likely made of foam and purchased from IDC_columns.com. Even banks are moving away from the Neo-Classical look, and that’s saying something.

To be clear, architectural history is important. It is the history of humanity and our values in built form. Sometimes those values are good, most of the time we see them change over time and changing styles reflect this. Architects are educated in the historical shifts of these stylistic movements, what they mean, and why they were important in their time. But when an architect sits for a licensing exam (same as your doctor, nurse, dentist, lawyer, accountant, and engineer) they are not tested on their knowledge of architectural history. They are tested on their knowledge of building codes, life safety, fire safety, contractual and permitting procedures, accessibility standards, energy efficient design, and basic structural, mechanical, and plumbing knowledge. They are tested on a range of knowledge said to “safeguard life, health, property, and the public welfare”. Because, when you leave your house, you are now “the public” and Architects are working for your safety. We are also working to make sure the world you move around in is beautiful and promotes health. That’s a lot to balance. It’s important to note here that those avant garde buildings I discussed earlier are not exempt from the array of codes and standards required of all other buildings. In fact, depending on their goals, they could be subject to additional. What occasionally makes many of them quite fantastic is the team of architects and engineers that designed them, addressed all those codes, law, and performance issues AND made something interesting enough to cause the collective us to stop and take notice. And that’s when Architecture becomes really exciting. So the next time you go into a building, maybe to purchase pants, interact with a government agency, or get something to eat and then leave that building, pause for a minute and remember, an Architect leading a team of professionals helped make that possible. No, we’re not responsible for your poor fashion choices, just the ability to make them in a safe, healthy, and efficient environment.

Incidentally, and I feel I need to leave you with this, some architects would tell you, because they are designers, they can definitely design you some pants. Do not, under any circumstances, expect those pants to make you famous, but do expect them to be uncomfortable and expensive. If they do make you famous, it will be short lived and possibly not famous for what you intended.