The Pursuit of Quality

It is the perennial tragedy for architects that the public’s impression of their profession is often constrained to cliché; abstract notions of black polo-neck wearing elites with eccentric glasses, inhabitants of glass and steel edifices overlooking the Thames, or otherwise palatial modernist retreats in isolated countryside. There can be few occupations where such a perceptive chasm exists between its portrayal in the mass media and the day-to-day reality experienced by the large majority of its members.

By and large, architecture is not a well-paid vocation—certainly considering the substantial debt and considerable time it takes to acquire the coveted Part III. One can only conclude from the abundance of young architects entering the profession that the reason they persevere with the innumerable late nights and modest reward is something other than financial remuneration. It is also apparent that, far from being aloof from the troubles of ordinary people, if not a majority, then certainly a significant number, embark on careers not for personal reward but to better serve a society which largely considers them to be detached from it. It is an irony, then—and undoubtedly a source of immense frustration—that rather than being considered as vital servants of society, architects are often viewed with suspicion, and even contempt.

On the morning of June 14th, 2017 the country awoke to the news that a horrific blaze had ripped through a west London tower block resulting in huge loss of life. That such a catastrophic event could take place in twenty-first century London was as bewildering as it was terrifying; that the building fabric, either in its design or its composition, was likely to have been a significant contributor to the loss of so many lives was a wake-up call for the whole industry, sending shockwaves through the entire profession. In hindsight, that such a tragedy had not happened sooner is something of a miracle.

400 miles north, and a year-and-a-half earlier, the early-morning collapse of a poorly-constructed masonry wall at an Edinburgh school could well have resulted in a similarly terrible tragedy were it not for the fact that it occurred just an hour prior to students arriving at the beginning of the day. Outside the specialist press this event attracted only limited news coverage, yet following a detailed investigation by Professor John Cole the circumstances that led to the building failure raised a fundamental concern about how the public sector commissions buildings—and one which has profound implications for the architectural profession.

Although the circumstances leading to each event were vastly different (one an existing residential tower latterly wrapped in lightweight rainscreen cladding, the other a new-build, low-rise masonry school), flaws in the processes through which these works were commissioned were demonstrably (in the case of the Edinburgh Schools) and likely—in the case of Grenfell Tower—a significant contributor to both failures.

Over the last quarter of a century the commissioning of public buildings has suffered immensely from the erosion of independent oversight within the construction process; historically a vital representative of the client’s interests, the role of Clerk of Works has all but vanished, whilst the architect—bound equally by law and duty to act equally on behalf of the client and society—relegated to the role of just another sub-contractor. With increasingly few construction firms now employing direct labour, modern contracting has become a complex service industry reliant upon a fragmented yet pliable supply chain, with “just-in-time” procurement and narrow margins, with clients—especially those in the public sector, wary of being seen to be profligate with taxpayers’ money—keen to delegate risk to whomever will accept it; regardless of the inevitable effect on quality. The architect, more often than not, having his or her appointment batted backwards and forwards between client and contractor, no longer benefits from independence and is increasingly distanced from the ultimate beneficiaries of their work. In such an arrangement the tension between legal duty to the client and the moral obligations to the ultimate occupants (which, in the case of public buildings, is frequently not the same group) can be challenging to reconcile. The prevailing use of Design & Build procurement and integrated contracting would seem to be at the heart of this dichotomy. The fact that some clients include so-called “whistleblowing clauses” within these contractual arrangements is an indication of the fundamental contradiction in this approach, although this seems to be an initiative favoured more by the private sector than public clients, and sadly little more than a sticking plaster for a greater malaise.

Independent oversight would demonstrably have prevented the defective works at the Edinburgh schools, and possibly have mitigated the circumstances that led to the rapid escalation of the fire at Grenfell. It’s certain that the architect’s isolation from the construction process, as demanded by the particular method of procurement selected in each case, could not have improved matters.

And so, for architects, an opportunity: the sudden realisation amongst public clients that systemic change is necessary to ensure that—rather than focusing solely on short-term budgets and the mitigation of illusory risks—procurement must instead be principally concerned with long-term outcomes: longevity, sustainability, wellbeing. And that, at the heart of this renewed focus, the architect is ideally placed to understand and accommodate these objectives; uniquely able to balance both the demands of the client with the wider needs of society—with skill, professionalism and compassion.


This article was published in the book “Defining Contemporary Professionalism: For Architects in Practice and Education” by Alun Jones and Rob Hyde, RIBA Publishing 2019.

Photo of Grenfell Tower by Guido van Nispen.