Early in the generative AI era, I had a post-roundtable conversation with a business owner in the warmly decorated living room of the celebrated Australian Architect Robin Boyd. They could not understand why you would pay an artist for their work when you could generate whatever you wanted for free. I tried to explain that Art is more than output; it is the process, the lived experience, and the contribution to culture that hold meaning and value, not necessarily the work itself. A point I reinforced by referencing the enduring legacy of the architect's living room, we now stood in.
They were unconvinced; as a Landscape Architect, I've learned not to reason on the value of design, but to translate it to things they understand, money, accessibility, utility, with good design being a happy but unstated side effect. Unfortunately, I did a disservice to myself and my profession by not trying to teach those outside the creative fields that there exists value hidden from them.
That conversation has stuck with me in the intervening years, festering like a dead rat under the floorboards. You can ignore the implications, but deep down you know what you're smelling. Society doesn't value your work.
Society has always held creatives in contempt.
In 2002 in the UK an Architect could expect to earn 60% above the median salary, in 2023 that has dropped to 34%. All the while the cost for education has gone from £1,000 per year to £9,250 per year. A 900% increase in investment, while the expected return is halved.
From what I'm hearing, the number of new students entering Landscape Architecture programs is crashing, too. My year had 150 students; this year will have 12, and it is no mystery why. No amount of exclaiming how wonderful the profession is will counter the crushing financial burden you are asking them to bear. It is no surprise then that my registering body, AILA, is on the brink of bankruptcy, having been in debt for five years. I cannot look at those trends and still believe the professional creative industries will survive on our current trajectory.
What frustrates me is that we never bothered to tackle the real, hard problems that could have made this industry attractive again: low pay, unpaid overtime, and exploitation of young graduates. How many offices will function once the firehose of disposable fresh talent stops? How will we charge rock-bottom fees off the backs of the young? Architecture, as a business, only works through a stratification of 20-somethings, with a handful of old fellas holding the whips. If that is the only working business model, it may need to burn.
If that is the only working business model, it may need to burn.
Instead, we quibble over BIM standards and bureaucratic busywork that add little to the actual value and point that architecture provides the world (it's buildings, remember? not models!). Almost as if we stuck our heads in the sand from the screaming tide of our collapsing empire, while tech companies soaked up what little profit was left to be made from our skilled labour. Well, if things don't change, I'm afraid there will be little blood left to suck from this stone.
Architecture is coming to an end for all but the wealthy; many offices are staying afloat purely from NEOM alone. Society, alongside ourselves, has systematically undermined our viability through policies and practises that erode our ability to contribute to culture. Creatives have always been willing to do it mostly for the love of it, but that is no longer enough; we now require lifelong servitude to our financial and technological masters, too.
The Creative Reckoning
My sister, Eirian Chapman is one of the most creative people I've met, successfully freelancing as a Graphic Illustrator for over 15 years, I wanted to understand how she sees the current climate and future of creative work, she summed it up nicely:
AI art is good enough for most people, and that is all it takes to dismantle the creative industries.
Her insight was but a reminder of my smelly, ratty friend.
Most people can't tell or care whether something is well-designed; they only care if it gets the job done. Those with money typically lack an education in design and cannot distinguish the value between AI slop and design, nor do they care to know. And yet, slop has not come to dominate commercial works not because society really does love art after all, but simply because slop is seen as a sign of untrustworthiness. In a mark of irony, the force that devalues art and design to purely utilitarian output also forces society to place value on the cost of hiring an artist, not for the art but for the simple fact that the company are legitimate enough to pay someone for the work.
AI is accelerating the decay that already existed within Architecture; it is not its cause. The signals are all pointing down, not as a local occurrence to a bad market, but across the decades, every year has been a small decay, only now accelerated and brought into focus by AI. Society as a whole may not understand my value or even what I do, but I know there exist pockets of light still that, while they may not sustain the goliaths of yesteryear, may be enough to keep the flame going in another form.
Standing in Contrast
The incoming monocultural voice of AI has surfaced as a suffocating tide of absolute dullness, devoid of life, insight or culture. It is the Good Enough society by and large wants and is rewarded algorithmically for. My bet is to stand in contrast to that monoculture, to have ideas, to make mistakes, to innovate, to succeed and to fail, but most of all, to show my heart and to be vulnerable. Not to do so will be the death of my soul. This year, I am stepping out to freelance, like many of my peers. I feel disillusioned with the continual short-term thinking, people just trying to get their bag and go; those that I thought were bastions of change have buckled. I need to enact positive change in the world. There is no option now but to take matters into my own hands.
AI has pushed me out of my little Architectural bubble where all my Architectural friends know and understand the beauty and richness we bring to the world. It has made me rip up the floorboards of my cozy little Edinburgh flat and confront that festering rat.
Architecture is dying a slow bureaucratic death.
What it means to practice will change, the economics will not allow it to continue unchanged; I am already seeing new modes of practise forming, flexible networks based on trust, skill and love for design. I remain hopeful.
To the young designers entering the field, I am genuinely sorry for the world you are stepping into. The ladder was kicked while I climbed it; you have no ladder at all. I host a Discord, I'm always available to chat and provide advice.
To those who wish to walk untrodden paths and seek better worlds, I want to work with you; let's do more than Good Enough.