Humility and the Architect

Last year I wrote a post for AIA Colorado/Archinect titled “The Ego and the Architect.” ( http://archinect.com/features/article/73381902/op-ed-the-ego-and-the-architect )  If you didn’t read it, the post discussed evolving forms of leadership within an architectural office spanning age and experience, and how this relates to what seems to be a softening of the egotistical architect archetype in favor of a socially-conscious, collaboration-minded, sometimes empathetic individual.

As I look book after many months and reconsider this post, I have been scratching my head at how personal experience has begun to shed light on what might be a question and counterpoint:

Do architects need some sense of ego to maintain strength and optimism while experiencing what seems to be an even greater challenge than bravado; humility?

In the last year, I’ve moved out of the 1-3 year range as a designer and am now in what seems to be a rare bird in today’s post-recession market; a 3-5 year employee (Gasp! We do exist!)  In the 3-5 range, I’ve participated in a wide range of projects, large and small, from start to finish. I now recognize the importance of all project phases, and have begun to engage with each new assignment in a more involved role. Hence I am not a newbie, despite also not being an “expert.”

With that said, in this transition of time and knowledge acquisition, I’ve stumbled across a few revelations regarding perhaps the most exciting but also challenging aspects of becoming an architect: the ability to be humbled by the complex nature of what we do, how we do it, and perhaps most importantly, how we follow through once a project is being constructed.

To keep this post short(ish) but hopefully helpful, here is a counterpoint to my original blog post; a list of the lessons I’ve experienced as a student and young professional that require a personal shield of confidence to protect against an on-going sense of humility and acceptance in learning from experiences and decisions approached with optimism, idealism, and simply not knowing…yet…

(1) Academia: From a first critique, architecture students are challenged on every thought, decision, graphic, verbal, and text-related decision that is made. “Your project is promising, but must be improved here, here, …and here!” We are taught from an early age to both welcome feedback and to use it as constructively as we can, knowing that despite what we do or how much we produce, despite its level of quality, it will always have potential for improvement or different methods of thought and experimentation—a thought and design process carried throughout an architecture professional’s career and life.
(2) The IDP experience: At this time, a recently-graduated student is the most junior staff around (besides interns,) and he/she is eager to prove themselves while gaining relevant job experience. It is inevitable-regardless of what field he/she is in- that this time will be filled with learning, mistakes, and learning from your mistakes.

(3) The ARE: It wasn’t until I took my most recent exam that I felt truly humbled by the daunting process of taking not 1, not 2, not 5, but 7 exams testing ideas and concepts that I have engaged in directly, indirectly, or at this stage—not at all. I’ve found studying to be rewarding as a reminder of how many factors must be considered at every stage in the design process, and the degree in which an architect must become a semi-expert regarding the small and large nuances of our environment and the world we have made. With that said, I have found myself both bewildered, nervous, and then (hopefully) relieved to find my knowledge is on par with what NCARB might consider “sufficient knowledge” for an associate pursuing licensure. I have no doubt that after Test 7 I will have the biggest ego in the world, rooted in a necessary discipline, persistence, patience, not to mention a sharpened ability to complain, focus, agonize, and rejoice all within the same week (or days in some instances…)
(4) Becoming a 3-5 year person. After cutting your teeth as a junior designer, the more involved a young professional becomes in client relationships, a design process in its entirety, as well as actually walking his/her drawings in the field, there is a large window of opportunity to make mistakes that dance the line of being small but illustrative of how much you do not know yet.

So what will help the emerging class of future architects remain aspirational and optimistic, all the while knowing each design problem will require discourse, unfamiliar tasks and challenges, not to mention the uncharted territory of each unique client and client relationship?

I would come full circle from my previous blog post to say “mentorship”  as a form of leadership remains the key to balancing a young professional’s process of learning and developing.  Without oversight and people to teach, challenge, and recognize young designers (especially millennials,) our next group of architecture leaders may have to wear a similar façade of ego to protect them simply from what they do not know…

The Ego and the Architect

A few weeks ago, I witnessed an interaction that I imagine most people in the design industry experience numerous times both in school AND professional life.  What transpired was this: a few junior architects were pinning up carefully composed drawings, renderings, and sketches for a client meeting.  Under a tight budget and time constraint, the amount of thought, options, and exploration on the wall felt vital and impressive. As the last drawing was being pinned, a visiting architect from a different office briefly stepped into the room, looked at the wall for about thirty seconds, and quickly claimed “Oh, I built this building in the 90’s…”

As the wind was quickly taken out of sails, the last pin was pushed in with a slight hesitation rather than the initial confidence and momentum of the previously installed drawings.

A few months ago, Heather wrote an extremely relevant blog post about the importance of mentorship in architectural offices today.  Rather than follow the traditional, antiquated approach of “Master” and “apprentice,” she explored the notion of the mentor being an omnipresent “Yoda” type that is able to support, critique, and affirm junior architects in their many stages of professional development.

As a follow-up to this discussion, I’d like to briefly touch on the idea of “leadership” in an architectural office.  For all of their good, idealistic, altruistic traits and stereotypes, architects have also (on occasion) been stereotyped to have relatively large egos.  While I will refrain from going into semantics or arguing for or against this stereotype (I plead the fifth!) the anecdote I mentioned above suggests that at times, voiced opinions that support the ego rather than the effort can prove futile rather than productive.

When I think about the people I would consider “leaders”  in my office, they don’t just include the people with the highest-ranking title or the most experience.  They are the people who send out design inspiration emails, events, and tips to keep us involved and aware.  They are the people who will put down their pens and walk over to your screen to guide you through an issue that is perhaps their expertise or passion. Their willingness to share that knowledge becomes a great resource to the entire office.

Leaders are the people who understand that the work we do extends beyond our desks and find themselves leading community and service-related efforts in their personal and professional lives. Furthermore, they look at the work that’s been produced and consider the source, the thinking, the project parameters, and then voice their opinions in a way that both challenges and guides the ship forward, rather than sinking the vessel in midstream.

I am impressed by the bravery of the many young architects I’ve met as of late, in their ability to begin to define what seems to be a changing paradigm of architect from egotistical to humanitarian.  While architects have always wanted to help improve society in small and large ways, the increased collaborative nature of offices, use of integrated design and delivery models, and the steady re-emergence of a celebrated creative class are all phenomenon that are requiring us to brand ourselves in ways that defy and transcend the definition of the stereotypical “master” builder or craftsmen.

As you approach your academic or professional workweek, I challenge you to consider your personal definition of leadership, and in some small way, aim to acknowledge or act in a manner that reinforces this.  While young architects need continued mentorship, they also need to be bold in working towards breaking old stereotypes and replacing them with definitions that reinforce both the importance and impact of architects’ contributions to helping shape the design and experience of the places we work, live, and enjoy.