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ArchitectureArchitecture
  • Essay
  • Open Access

24 March 2026

16 Pages

Beyond Buildings: The Evolving Architectural Problem

Design Institute for Health and Resilience, University of Utah, Salt Lake City, UT 84112, USA

Abstract

Building on Gutman’s (1987) argument that architectural practice should reflect the nature of the problem, this article explores four eras of architectural practice: the Patronage Model, the Clientage Model, the Transitional Models, and Future Models. Each era is examined in relation to six “Questions of Praxis”: (1) What is the nature of the problem?, (2) What is the nature of the intervention?, (3) What knowledge is valued?, (4) What is the stance toward the problem?, (5) What is the continuity in the relationship?, and (6) What is the prioritization of professional obligations? Through a comparative analysis of questions 2–5—the analytic core of action-taking—alongside four drivers of change in today’s volatile, uncertain, complex, ambiguous world, yields 16 possible futures for architects. Further synthesis identifies five primary roles for architects of the future: systems-thinking designer (embracing complexity), steward (building trust amid volatility), facilitator (reducing ambiguity through shared meaning), curator (making sense of uncertainty), and strategic forecaster (transforming volatility into preparedness). These roles embody a care-based approach—prioritizing ongoing relationships over episodic interventions, collective capacity-building over expert prescriptions, and adaptive readiness over static solutions. This reflects the positioning of architecture as a public good, focused on strengthening social, ecological, and systemic foundations so communities not only withstand disruption but also adapt, learn, and thrive through it.

1. Introduction

Our 21st-century world is increasingly volatile, with accelerating change and diminishing predictability; uncertain, as institutions and norms lose reliability; complex, through multiplying interdependent systems; and ultimately ambiguous. In short, it is a VUCA (volatile, uncertain, complex, ambiguous) world [1]. The profession of architecture, as with many global institutions, needs to reflect and reposition itself for what is proving to be a much more dynamic world. It is clear that the social contract for the profession of architecture is understood as responsibility for the health, safety, and welfare impacts in the built environment. The Boyer Report, in fact, articulated three decades ago that architects tended to narrowly prescribe the meaning of that phrase, which Boyer and Mitgang argued was much more felicitous of an “enlarged mission” [2]. Seemingly intractable to the definition of architecture as a verb is this notion of responsibility for the health, safety, and welfare of the built environment, yet this was not always the case. Gutman and Cuff have argued that this framing arose from the professionalization of architecture in the mid-19th century [3,4]. Gutman [3] suggested that this shift toward professionalization was a rupture from their past patronage model, whether that patron be royalty, a government, a church, or an aristocrat. As Gutman defines them, patronage “is an act of faith that the person or institution being supported will produce an object or service that is admirable and worthwhile in the sponsor’s eyes,” while professionalization’s clientage model is where the client “is certain about his (sic) aims for the project, can specify his requirements in detail, and seeks a product or service that will yield a profit. A client expects the manufacturer or professional to be sympathetic to his objectives, not vice versa” [3] (p. 149).
As the International Union of Architects (UIA) state in their Recommended International Standards of Professionalism in Architectural Practice, there are three acknowledged procedures by which to procure professional architectural services: competition (solution-based); qualification-based selection (QBS); and direct negotiation—but regardless of procurement method, the services are to meet the requirements of the project scope [5]. This suggests widespread international reliance on clientage has become a unifying feature of contemporary practice, shaping both how architects engage in problems and how their responsibilities are socially understood globally.
Intriguingly, Gutman [3] argues that the appropriate mode of sponsorship depends not on the sponsor’s whim but on the nature of the problem. In clientage, the aims, requirements, and outcomes are clear and defined by the client. Gutman identifies only two problem types suited to patronage: “those in which it is intrinsically difficult to specify the characteristics of a product or a service before it is made or performed; and those in which it is hard to describe in advance the process that will be used to fabricate the product or develop the service” [3] (p. 149). What if we were to pursue Gutman’s premise that the nature of the problem should suggest the manner by which the architect engages that problem, but do so for this VUCA world? Could our brittle, intransigent understanding of architectural practice stem from a failure to imagine the problems architects may face? If our world is volatile, uncertain, complex, and ambiguous, is it not likely that architectural problems are similarly fluid? If, as Gutman [3] (p. 149) suggests, architecture is “an investigatory discipline,” then our tactics, methods, and ways of knowing must be shaped by the problems we confront.

2. Methodology

This inquiry arises from an asserted mismatch between the prevailing assumptions of our current modified, “transitional” approach to client-based architectural practice and the increasingly fluid, ambiguous, interdependent contexts in which architects now operate. If, as Gutman argues, the nature of the problem should determine the architect’s mode of engagement, then re-examining how the profession frames its problems becomes essential. To pursue this objective, the article employs a comparative epistemological analysis of four eras of architectural practice—three historically established and a fourth emergent—each shaped fundamentally by differing kinds of problems. The article uses six “Questions of Praxis” to analyze these eras:
Question 1: What is the nature of the problem?
Question 2: What is the nature of the intervention?
Question 3: What knowledge is valued?
Question 4: What is the stance toward the problem?
Question 5: What is the continuity in the relationship?
Question 6: What is the prioritization of professional obligation?
In this article, the nature of the problem in each era is positioned as a question that encapsulates each era’s core purpose, underpinning the action-taking that is practiced. Question 2 broadens the understanding of possible solutions beyond buildings, emphasizing that the appropriate action may be spatial, social, procedural, or relational by utilizing the broader term of “intervention.” Question 3 highlights that the previous two questions likely foreground different knowledge in shaping both the problem and the response. Question 4 acknowledges the difference in action from reaction, as in responding to a given problem, or anticipatory, as found in environmental scanning and problem-seeking. These stances alter the rules of engagement for architectural practice in regard to the problem and the intervention. Question 5 raises time as a critical but often overlooked dimension of the engagement of practice. Here, the continuity of the relationship asks what persists over time, the artifact produced or the relationship with clients and communities? Finally, Question 6 posits that while the balance of professional responsibilities may be the most desirable, inevitably conflict raises the question of prioritization of obligations and the ethical dimension that is central to practice.
These six questions actually constitute three layers of situating praxis: foundational framing, analytic core, and ethical orientation. Question 1 accepts Gutman’s premise that the nature of the problem is foundational and thus sets the frame for the subsequent five questions. The final question (“What is the hierarchy of professional obligation?”) integrates the preceding implications of practice into an overarching ethical orientation. Questions 2–5 capture the essential interpretive, strategic, and relational commitments defining the “investigatory discipline” of architectural action-taking. As such, it is in regard to these four questions that the most tangible distinctions between approaches to practice emerge. For that reason, they are the analytic questions of praxis guiding exploration of the proposed future model of architectural practice.
Source material includes historical and theoretical literature, professional codes and ethics, and contemporary analyses of volatility, uncertainty, complexity, and ambiguity in the built environment context. These materials were coded by era and in relation to the questions outlined above. Through cross-era comparison, the analysis identifies shifts in frameworks—from aesthetic canons to technical rationality, interpretive and participatory models, and shifting toward anticipatory systems thinking.

3. Four Eras of Architectural Practice

As stated, this investigation postulates four eras of architectural practice: Era 1: The Historic Patronage Model; Era 2: The Clientage Model of Professionalization; Era 3: Transitional Models; and Era 4: Future Models. These eras have been selected for their defining characteristics and pivotal transitions in architectural practice. The novelty of this investigation lies in its integrative approach, which compares these eras not only in terms of temporal transitions but also their associated meta-cognitive underpinnings informing practice. The shift from Era 1 to Era 2 represents a major rupture, while the move from Era 2 to Era 3 is more evolutionary, responding to new challenges rather than constituting a complete break. In contrast, the transition from Era 3 to Era 4 is projected to be another significant rupture or revolution. Table 1 provides an overview comparison of these four eras in relation to the questions presented above.

3.1. Era 1: The Historic Patronage Model

The traditional approach to architectural history focused on architecture designed and constructed for the wealthy and powerful, as opposed to vernacular buildings constructed over the millennia. By positioning the vast history of architecture in this way, it should be little surprise that architecture as a discipline becomes associated with elitism. As discussed above, this model operates in a world where architecture is largely an aesthetic artifact, executed for a singular patron, such as a Queen or Pope, whose wealth and power are to be expressed in the resulting architectural grandeur. The question at hand is “What is the ideal expression of beauty for this patron?” For instance, the Renaissance author Alberti argues that certain proportions derived from divine harmony and natural order were intrinsically beautiful, and that anything meriting the term architecture must employ those proportions [6]. This reflects how architects come to know, which is a version of the “received view” of knowledge [7]; that is, that certain proportions, in relation to the human body, would intrinsically create a sense of beauty. Four centuries later, this remains a relevant strand of thought evident in what is now called Classicism and is evident in a recent Executive Order issued in the United States, “Making Federal Architecture Beautiful Again” [8]. Thus, practice deploys a given and static ordering system, irrespective of changes, technologically, socially, or economically. This model reflects a world of certainty and hierarchy. The architect’s role was to manifest ideals—beauty, proportion, permanence—within a presumed place for the patron in a stable world order.

3.2. Era 2: The Clientage Model of Professionalization

In the mid-nineteenth century, professionalization marked a rupture in how society understood architects and how architects perceived themselves. This shift aligned with broader societal transformations such as the rise in industrial capitalism and public health reforms, which demanded a reconsideration of the architect’s role within the rapidly changing social fabric. With the increase in scientific knowledge and the approach of techno-rationality to social problems, various disciplines—medicine, law, engineering, and architecture, chief among them—sought to professionalize themselves, each claiming a contract with society for certain responsibilities [9]. In the case of architecture, the responsibility claimed was for the health, safety, and welfare of people in relation to the built environment [4]. These societal currents helped bolster the necessity for a new contract with society. Hence, the rupture was from responsibility to bring glory to the patron, to now responsibility for health safety and welfare, not just for the sponsor, now a client, but also for society, and to do so in alignment with others in the profession. Clients increasingly became public or private organizations and institutions, and the definition of a project began to be articulated in terms of scope, budget, and time. The problem at hand was to answer the question, “How do we meet time and budget requirements for a client’s needs?” A standard set of services emerged, reflecting acceptance of the problem as given by the client, and began to interconnect with standards for project definition, project delivery, and the contractual obligations of participants. Terms that become common include the “standard of reasonable care” and the AIA Standard Forms of Agreement. Here, the architect becomes a problem-solver, applying scientific principles to meet client objectives. This model dominated the 20th century, aligning with industrial modernity and managerial logic.

3.3. Era 3: Transitional Models

As with many disciplines, architecture was influenced in the 1960s and 1970s by what has been called the “interpretive turn” [10], recognizing that the epistemology of technical rationality could not successfully address the human dimensions of so-called “wicked problems.” Several problems surfaced:
  • The complexity range of architectural projects is significant and therefore, uniform fee structures, project delivery processes, and the like were questioned [11];
  • Problem definition differs based upon perspective, and the acceptance that the owner’s definition was always correct was questioned in the spirit of social constructionism [12];
  • The definition of architectural practice as sunrising with the Owner–Architect agreement and sunsetting with the completion of the building seemed overly narrow [13].
Table 1. Changing nature of the problem/practice through the eras.
Solutions emerged from both societal needs and legal challenges. For instance, advocacy by disability rights groups and older adult advocates fundamentally reshaped practice, culminating in landmark legislation such as the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990 (ADA) and OBRA 1987. These measures left no doubt that architecture now bore an obligation to serve a broader and more diverse public [15]. At the same time, the 1977 Anti-Trust suit against the AIA forced the organization to eliminate its original 1909 Code of Ethics, which was eventually replaced in 1987 [4].
This new code now accepted that architectural practice might involve alternative project delivery methods such as design-build (previously viewed as unethical), allowed for architect’s to engage in project definition—or architectural programming [16]—and post-occupancy evaluation [17], both as additional services, and allowed architects to work in corporate settings and offer services such as strategic facility planning and facility management. By 2001, The Architect’s Handbook of Professional Practice, Student Edition, was actually advocating for a broader definition of architectural practice: “The concept of architectural services now extends through the conception, financing, design, construction, and lifetime operation of a facility, including every facility-related aspect that makes the client’s life better and more productive” [18].
This statement contains vestiges of what constitutes the architectural problem: it remains a building designed to meet the needs of a client, however, now with nuance. The problem becomes socio-technical, with problem-setting as negotiation among the community, users, and the client. It moves beyond client needs to domains Steinfeld and Maisel [15] (p. 69) define as “human performance, health and wellness, and social participation.” The question evolves: How do we optimize building performance while co-creating meaning and value among diverse stakeholders?
We see increased use of programming and post-occupancy evaluation, leading to evidence-based design [19]. Participatory design and community engagement gain traction [20]. Architects transcend boundaries through “alternative delivery processes” like design-build and CM at-risk. The architect becomes collaborator, facilitator, and project leader—not just creator and content specialist.

3.4. Era 4: Future Models

Signs of change were evident as the 21st century began. Pressman [21] identified emerging models such as “virtual architectural practice,” exhibit and installation design, evidence-based design, real estate development, and imagineering. Each transcended traditional boundaries of scope, responsibility, and expertise, addressing problems redefined beyond buildings and clients. Early drivers included technological shifts in the fourth industrial revolution [22], global challenges of sustainability [23] and public health [24], growing skepticism toward institutions and expert knowledge [25], and widening economic inequality [26]. Historic models and incremental tweaks cannot match this complexity; we stand on the brink of another rupture in what it means to be an architect.
The canonical notion of architect as “Arkhitekton”—Greek for “master builder”—will gain new meaning [27]. The master will shift from authority to orchestration, akin to a symphony conductor. Tekton will expand from building to what Diaz Moore [28] calls “places”—systems of activities within systems of settings that create “shared aspects of experience” [29] (p. 218). Architecture will become the practice of orchestrating symphonic places that advance broadly construed notions of health, safety, and welfare (as advocated by Boyer and Mitgang [2]).
Consider the implications. First, the term milieu affirms Proshansky et al.’s [30] (p. 64) truism that “there is no physical environment that is not also a social environment, and vice versa,” but reframes it as socio-physical systems of activities and settings. This fluidity opens space for possibilities beyond rigid social or physical constructs. Second, the focus on places emphasizes experience, not permanence; architects design systems of activities as well as settings, embracing flux rather than fixity. Third, the spirit of symphony demands “the capacity to synthesize rather than analyze; to see relationships between seemingly unrelated fields; to detect broad patterns rather than deliver specific answers; and to invent something new by combining elements nobody else thought to pair [31] (p. 126).” The goal is resilience and adaptability, not static endurance. The new architectural problem becomes: How do we design places for resilience and adaptability in a complex, uncertain, ever-changing ecosystem?
This frontier will shatter the path-dependent assumption that architecture means creating a building in response to a sponsor’s problem—whether patron or client. As profound as the shift from patronage to clientage was, this change is deeper: we are designing places, not buildings. These places are systems of systems—activities and settings. Architecture becomes adaptive, integrated, and living. It moves beyond deterministic, closed models to embrace dialectics: physical and abstract, natural and human-made, probabilistic rather than deterministic, open rather than closed. Knowledge shifts from specialist or generalist to democratic and distributed, requiring deep engagement [32].
Practice must grow anticipatory—seeking problems across all scales of human–environment interaction—and speculative, exploring solutions not yet technologically possible or even environmental in nature. As Fisher [33] (p. 98) writes, “the more the architectural profession uncouples itself from buildings as the answer to every problem, the more our field will understand the role that services, systems and strategies can play in meeting a client’s needs and the extent to which those same services, systems and strategies could use some design help.” Finally, practice must become agile and responsive to the natural and human-made disasters this VUCA world will produce with increasing frequency. The ultimate product of architecture will no longer seek permanence but embrace transformation, emphasizing flexibility and adaptability.
Together, these reflect a fundamental shift in the obligations and, therefore, the definition of the practice itself. Architecture shifts from being a market service producing discrete artifacts to a public good that stewards both society’s and the planet’s health, safety, and welfare. No longer is the architect’s role limited to shaping individual buildings, but to caring for the systems—environmental, socio-cultural, economic, and political—that buildings inhabit and influence. This becomes clearer when we consider these epistemological shifts in regard to macrotrends that should influence the practice of architecture.
Table 2 offers a comparative matrix using the analytic core (questions 2 through 5) of the “Questions of Praxis” and four major drivers of change—economic inequality, rapid technological shifts, climate-displacement-induced health pressures, and information ecosystem fragmentation. Each cell suggests possible new roles for architectural practice, not as an exhaustive or predictive set, but to illustrate the fragmented and expansive terrain ahead. The drivers are illustrative only, yet they begin to surface opportunities for practice to meet the moment. Cells can certainly be hybridized as well. For instance, if one thinks democratized knowledge is critical in addressing economic inequality, but so too is information fragmentation across the entire system at play, the table suggests a blend of a Co-Design Facilitator with a Civic Trust Steward. Perhaps this becomes something like a Community Evidence Liaison: someone who shapes engagements that translate diverse perspectives into decision-ready intelligence with a focus on enabling data-informed governance through physical and digital platforms. The point of Table 2 is to spark possibilities by considering both extrinsic and intrinsic changes to architectural practice in an integrated way. However, given the focus here is on proposed changes to practice, a deeper dive on the changes anticipated for the analytic “Questions of Praxis” follows.
Table 2. Implications of drivers of future change and emerging nature of practice.

3.4.1. Artifact —> System Intervention

If we begin by examining the paradigm shift of artifact to system, we can see the necessity of integrating both design and stewardship roles of the architect. If an architect is tasked with a traditional “artifact” project, it is now designed as a node within larger, interconnected systems whose resilience is of greater criticality than the singular node. Data, the sharing of data, and the trustworthiness of that data are all imperative. There are embedded questions to rethink the nature of a given problem with a relentless focus on systems, change, and trust.

3.4.2. Expert —> Democratized Knowledge

An even more radical challenge to the traditional conception of architect emerges as we consider the change from expert to democratized authority. We see the fundamental need for the architect to serve as facilitator and curator, along with their unique design skills. This is because the nature of the world is so much more volatile and complex that the future is not at all certain, but perhaps at best probabilistic. This raises the stakes of socially constructing our anticipated future states and building trust through those processes to weather the inevitable corrections that will prove necessary. Participation of architects is therefore not episodic but perpetual with organizations, facilities, and communities. This begins to speak to the public health approach for architects, premised on Fisher [34].

3.4.3. Reactive —> Anticipatory Stance

Architects must shift their stance from reactive, to a given program on a given site, to anticipatory. Therefore, strategic foresight becomes an essential capability of the architect as we typically engage in project scales requiring long-term investments. Creating modular, flexible platforms that are quickly deployable for surge conditions due to disasters or other significant disruptions will become imperative. Pre-empting obsolescence and designing in a way that interventions are reversible reflects the agility that architectural interventions will increasingly require. Engagement in situation monitoring in an effort to gain early warning of emergent issues and simultaneously engaging in dexterous scenario planning efforts will become a whole new essential part of architectural practice.

3.4.4. Permanence —> Flux and Transformation

Perhaps the biggest revolution in architectural thinking will be the 180° shift from seeking permanence and “timelessness” in our product, resulting from often one-off processes, to embracing the state of flux and continuous transformation in our interventions, resulting from continuous and iterative engagements with sponsors and communities. An emergent area of creativity is stewarding our already built infrastructure in ways that meet the adaptive demands of tomorrow, from transformable interiors to alternative and more flexible leasing arrangements. Circular material flows will be of increasing necessity and are a known area for innovation. Community facilitation efforts to promote both health and resilience are an essential role of the architectural designer moving forward. Due to the perpetual flux of the future, the stewardship of meaningful continuity in the midst of constant change will elevate the role of the architect in narrative curation.

4. Essential Roles for the 21st Century Architect

These broad observations characterize a rapid and substantially changing, or simply, a volatile nature of practice. This is not to say that the traditional clientage model, nor the transitional responses to that model, belonging to Era 2 and Era 3, respectively, will disappear. Because architecture has proven to be a path-dependent field, clientage will remain a touchstone, as patronage does to this day. However, they will find increasing unease as clients become less certain of their needs and less able to imagine alternative futures; less confident in the ability of those models to employ not only best practices but to embrace next practices; and less willing to make substantial long-term investments in such a dynamic world. To put it in economic terms, the value proposition of architectural practice will move from specialized expertise, often with a building type or content area, to serving as a trusted steward and strategic guide to navigating this VUCA world, through skilled facilitation of collective wisdom to generate for communities imagined futures of positive transformation that are both resilient and equitable even in an uncertain world. Below are five essential roles Era 4 architects will need to fulfill to best serve society.

4.1. Designer Role —> Systems Thinking and Post-Normal Science

If we explore Table 2 a bit more, please note that whenever the word “designer” is employed, it is present with words such as interconnected, integrated, transformation, and participatory. This suggests that architectural design can no longer focus on form-giving or the reductionist program but actively engage systems thinking and an embrace of what has been called “post-normal science.” This has been advocated since the 1970s in a wide range of domains of complexity and has been considered a core mindset in leadership since Senge [35] referred to systems thinking as the “fifth discipline.” Systems thinking is characterized by a holistic and interconnected understanding, focused on relationships and patterns to be integrated. Pattern recognition is no new assertion as central to architectural thinking [36,37,38,39]. However, Table 2 introduces concepts of transformation and participation as equally core to the definition of designer, raising “post-normal science” considerations. Post-normal science brings forward the unpredictability and instability of such systems along with the ambiguity of human decision-making rooted in uncertain facts, disputed values, and perceived high stakes, coupled with urgency.
Here, I would draw attention to Meadows’ [40] seminal article, “Dancing with Systems,” in which she states:
“People who are raised in the industrial world and who get enthused about systems thinking are likely to make a terrible mistake. They are likely to assume that here, in systems analysis, in interconnection and complication, in the power of the computer, here at last, is the key to prediction and control…. The future can’t be predicted, but it can be envisioned and brought lovingly into being. Systems can’t be controlled, but they can be designed and redesigned.”
Meadow’s goes on to advocate for simple yet transformative “system wisdoms” such as the following: listen to the wisdom of the system; stay humble… stay a learner; pay attention to what is important, not just what is quantifiable; and expand time and thought horizons. This framing sets the stage for why democratized knowledge, an anticipatory stance, and an embrace of flux and transformation are all essential.

4.2. Steward Role —> Ethics, Trust, Response

The stewardship aspect of architectural practice will only be heightened in this new era. For years, we have claimed responsibility for the health, safety, and welfare of society as they are impacted by the built environment. Yet we build environments that we know create health disparities [41], increase pollution, create food and service deserts, and the like. We have specified materials and finishes that increase the release of VOCs and the like in our interior environments [42]. We are currently designing dormitories in this country without windows [43]. Even with the cause célèbre of the 21st century, anthropogenic climate change, it is evident we will grossly miss our self-imposed 2030 goals as reported by the AIA [44]. In short, if architecture as a profession is questioned by society, the lack of stewardship is at the heart of the problem.
Young [45] (p. 2) writes, “stewardship of the built environment is a philosophy that balances the needs of contemporary society and its impact on the built environment with their ultimate effects on the natural environment.” Traditionally, architects have defined those societal needs in terms of health, safety, and welfare. If architects seek to truly steward these areas, much greater inquiry into understanding the human–environment transactions that impact those outcomes is not only warranted, but existential for the profession itself. This is a natural place for reciprocity between practice and the academy. If paired with an internship, advanced knowledge could more quickly be inserted into practice. The same could then be said for the “ultimate effects on the natural environment.”
As importantly as growing our own understanding, the profession will need to seek greater engagement from society in defining the ethical obligations of the profession. A thorough rethinking of the obligations is warranted, as they are rooted in the clientage model of practice. In this new model, the obligations of the profession to society and the environment become paramount and demand canons, ethical standards, and particularly rules of conduct that are both more robust and provide greater clarity of expectation.
A critical dimension of stewardship that is often overlooked is the notion of continual engagement. The architect’s role is no longer limited to a single architectural design for a client but is now in an ongoing relationship demanding accountability and, even more fundamentally, trust. It is here that the intrinsic leadership demands become clear. As Maxwell [46] (p. 64) writes, “trust is the foundation of leadership.” Covey and colleagues [47] (p. 2) go on to write that trust is “about connecting with people, through caring and belonging.” The next two roles prove essential in this effort.

4.3. Facilitator Role —> Participatory, Inclusive Practice

While advocated since certainly Giancarlo DeCarlo [48] in the 1960s, the inversion of the power pyramid and the demand for inclusive participation of others in the design process will now prove essential. The lone designer problem-solving on their own will become a relic, and co-design will become the norm. Co-design refers to “ the creativity of designers and people not trained in design working together in the design development process” [49] (p. 6). This is the radical change Jungk [50] (p. 122) predicted at the Design Participation conference hosted by the Design Research Society in 1971:
“We could talk not (only) about participation at the moment of decision but about participation at the moment of idea generation… We can begin the preparation for this radical change. As a prognostician, I don’t think this change will take place before the end of the century. We will have to suffer first from the lack of foresight of our fathers and forefathers. After that, something radically different can come, but it won’t come on its own: it has to be prepared.”
While reinforcing the path-dependency of architectural practice highlighted earlier in this article, we can see the necessity of efforts such as public-interest design during Era 2.1 to make the ground fertile for this “radical change.” Facilitation and teaming will now become as fundamental to architectural practice as form, space, and order. It should be no surprise, for instance, that IDEO is discussed by Edmondson [51] as an exemplar of team-based innovation. Edmondson [51] writes, “innovation thrives when people from different disciplines and backgrounds come together to develop new possibilities that none of them could have envisioned alone.” It is imperative for the new architect to be skilled at teaming and to embrace the leadership role that comes with being a professional. As Edmondson [51] observes, “teaming to innovate requires creativity, humility, empathy, and drive… leaders need to nurture them.”

4.4. Curator Role —> Open, Shared, Meaning-Making

In tandem with facilitating or orchestrating the team of characters, an emergent necessity is the role of curator. Curation is an interpretive act of collecting, selecting, organizing, and presenting information to shape integrated macro- and micro-narratives into a story arc. Each of these acts potentially places trust at risk; thus, openness, transparency, and shared meaning-making are essential qualities. However, the centrality of story in a VUCA world cannot be overlooked or underestimated. Rather than rational, linear, cause-and-effect relationships, a VUCA world is complex and ambiguous, constantly volatile. Shared decision-making requires a socially constructed sense-making armature that is open to revision but grounded in a common vision, shared purpose, and understood roles and rules.
Equally important as trust in this new world is inspiration. Returning to Covey [47] (p. 2), he argues that “it’s about then connecting people to purpose so they feel inspired… by a sense of purpose, meaning and contribution in their work.” As Turner [52] (pp. 4–5) writes, “story is the fundamental instrument of thought… Most of our experience, our knowledge, and our thinking is organized as stories.” As architectural practice responds to this VUCA world, McChrystal and colleagues [53] (p. 120) connect story, teaming, trust, and even thinking in systems as adaptive necessities when he writes, “trust and purpose are inefficient: getting to know your colleagues intimately and acquiring a whole-system overview are big time sinks; the sharing of responsibilities generates redundancy. But this overlap and redundancy—these inefficiencies—are precisely what imbues teams with high-level adaptability and efficacy. Great teams are less like ‘awesome machines’ than ‘awesome organisms.’”

4.5. Strategist Role —> Scanning, Foresight, Speculation

These awesome organisms confronting the new architectural problem must adopt a proactive, anticipatory stance. We simply cannot wait for problems to emerge, be recognized, identified, and articulated, and finally to be presented to the architect as is the current model. The world has simply become too dynamic for that approach.
Volatility speaks to perpetual change and at velocity. This makes active scanning imperative to detect emerging signals of change, particularly in a world where overreactions to change are commonplace. Certainly, that would involve scanning for the drivers of change discussed above, but one, which was not an exhaustive list, and two, we need to be seeking out emerging changes not only externally but internally to our industry. This becomes an active fight against obsolescence, not only because of our interventions but also because of our methods and mindsets.
Uncertainty calls for strategic foresight. Much of the future is unknown, but we will be better prepared if we explore multiple plausible futures, build upon trend analyses, and stress-test assumptions before being called into action. This is not about predicting the future; that is a misunderstanding of foresight. Rather, it is more like exercise that prepares us to play a sport; it helps us prepare for the diverse challenges that will no doubt emerge. Chakraborty and McMillian [54] provide a useful nine-component typology for situating the complexity of scenario planning: organizational structure; (problem) scope; scenario type; (anticipated) outcome; stakeholder engagement; participation extent; engagement medium; scenario construction and analysis tools; and resources. Each of these could be thought of as “muscle groups” that need to be exercised to be better prepared for unknowable future challenges.
Complexity raises the idea that action in one part of a system may create unanticipated changes in other parts of the system. This underlies the wisdom in small-scale efforts, whether referred to as pilots or prototyping, that reflect Lewin’s wisdom that “one cannot understand a system without trying to change it” [55]. Speculative design is in this spirit by prototyping alternative future interventions. Now the value of that is not in the fantastical, but in the examination of the likely impact of that speculative design on other aspects of the ecosystem. Thus, the interpretive and evaluative component is essential to the value of the speculation.
Ambiguity returns us to the importance of trust and why, in our engagement with others in developing strategy, we adhere to all four previous roles religiously. By framing design as a strategic conversation rather than a fixed deliverable, architects help navigate ambiguity with clarity and purpose. All of these together highlight several important takeaways:
  • Architects must move their efforts upstream from the problem-solving activity into problem identification and all the way to environmental scanning;
  • It becomes the mindsets and process skills of the architect that are of greatest value as opposed to the product rendered;
  • Architecture moves away from being a series of one-offs to becoming a system of ongoing relationships;
  • All of these changes have implications for our ethics, our contractual relationships, and our fundamental social contract.

5. Conclusions

Architectural practice is on the precipice of a second rupture in its very nature. The nature of the architectural problem is fundamentally different in this VUCA world. Traditional architectural practice—focused on singular-authored solutions for a particular sponsor, rational planning processes, and technical optimization—has proven itself ill-equipped for challenges like climate adaptation, social displacement, resource scarcity, and community resilience, where success depends on navigating contested values, embracing uncertainty, building collective capacity, and maintaining ethical accountability across long time horizons. These problems and others like them are characterized by profound volatility in environmental, social, and economic conditions; uncertainty about which futures will unfold and what interventions will prove effective; complexity arising from deeply interconnected systems where causes and effects are non-linear and emergent; and ambiguity in values, meanings, and priorities across diverse stakeholders with competing interests and worldviews. This new state is what calls for the systems thinking, democratized knowledge, anticipatory stance, and acceptance of flux and transformation discussed in Section 3. This is not architecture solving stable, technical problems. “Architecture is not just about buildings—it’s about shaping communities and lives” [56] (p. 25).
The problems of the mid-nineteenth century clients that gave rise to professionalization are no longer the problems of the mid-twenty-first century. As the RAND [57] (p. v) report expresses, “Architects are also navigating pressure to design and build in new ways to mitigate the impacts of climate change and promote human wellness while minimizing the cost of these innovations to clients.” The conflict is clear: the problems of today are socio-environmental, not the problems of a singular client. This is the main point of this article: the clientage model of practice is misaligned with the nature of many of today’s problems. As Table 2 asserts, the nature of practice today imagines a wide range of roles architects can and should play.
If indeed the nature of the problem should inform the nature of practice, then the five essential roles extracted from Table 2 provide a timely response to this increasingly VUCA world. Systems thinking-based design addresses complexity; the move from artifact to system intervention. Stewardship reflects the trust necessary in transitioning from permanence to flux. Facilitation derives from the shift from expert to democratized knowledge. Curation responds to the need for shared sense-making in fragmented information ecosystems, and strategic foresight embodies the move from reactive to anticipatory stance. These will provide a strong ground for architects to better serve society as the caring creatives they are expected to be. They suggest the need for different business models and contractual relationships, for different forms of professional practice that need to be embraced by society. Architects embedded in government, in institutions, in organizations will become normalized. We are seeing some of these emerge already. The large, multinational firm HOK has created HOK Healthcare Consulting, which provides healthcare systems with operations, service distribution models, and other aspects beyond architecture. Universities often have offices of a University Architect, suggestive of how institutions incorporate architectural expertise in-house. Non-profits, such as the Institute for Public Architecture (IPA), offer an infrastructure to use design as a tool for social justice.
This is a paradigm shift that parallels the difference between cure and care. Architectural practice within Eras 1, 2, and 2.1 has operated within a cure paradigm—diagnosing singular problems through expert analysis and delivering fixed solutions in the form of buildings, master plans, or design interventions that promise to resolve the problem. However, the challenges of our VUCA world do not present stable enough conditions to pursue a cure; they present chronic yet unstable realities to be navigated. This demands a fundamental shift to a care paradigm [56,58], where the architect’s value lies not in delivering definitive solutions but in building and sustaining communities’ capacity for resilience: their ability to endure shocks, adapt to change, learn from disruption, and ultimately, emerge stronger. The five roles identified embody this care approach—they emphasize ongoing relationship over episodic intervention, collective capacity-building over expert prescription, and adaptive readiness over static solutions. Care recognizes that resilience cannot be designed and handed over; it must be cultivated, tended, and renewed continuously. Whereas cure seeks to eliminate vulnerability through technical mastery, care acknowledges vulnerability as inherent and focuses instead on strengthening the social, ecological, and systemic foundations that allow communities not merely to survive disruption but to adapt, learn, and thrive through it. Taken together, the epistemological shifts in practice and the drivers of change portray a landscape of contemporary architectural practice that requires the capabilities of sustained stewardship across volatile conditions; shared governance across democratized knowledge environments; anticipatory planning across uncertain futures; and adaptive commitment across relationships operating in ongoing flux. This is the architect as ally and partner engaged in the practice of walking alongside communities through this uncertainty with humility, grace and confidence. This is architecture beyond buildings, beyond providing a market service; this is architecture as a public good.

Funding

This research received no external funding.

Institutional Review Board Statement

Not applicable.

Data Availability Statement

No new data were created or analyzed in this study. Data sharing is not applicable to this article.

Conflicts of Interest

The author declares no conflict of interest.

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