Research Ethics Review (2005) Vol 1, No 2, 67–72 © The Association of Research Ethics Committees 2005

Presented at AREC Conference ‘Universal Ethics’. Harrogate 10 June 2005

Conference presentation

Architectural ethics
NICHOLAS RAY
Jesus College, Cambridge

Fellow and Director of Studies in Architecture, Jesus College, Cambridge. E-mail [email protected]

The practice of architecture, a discipline that is inescapably contingent on the particular, but that is also
required by society in some way to represent an ideal, raises a number of specific ethical issues. Following
an essay by the philosopher Thomas Nagel, this paper argues that it is intrinsic to professional judgement
that this involves the prioritizing of unquantifiable ‘goods’. A twentieth-century case study is examined,
which exhibits the choices made by a well-known architect. The changed nature of architectural practice
in the United Kingdom in the twenty-first century is then described, whereby the privilege of making such
judgements has been severely limited by the substitution of managerial values for professional values. In
the face of different ethical imperatives – most obviously to design responsibly within pressing ecological
concerns – it is argued that the task for architects now is to re-establish a context within which sound
judgements can be made, which of course implies a degree of professional trust. Their ability to balance
managerial values (technical competence for example) with ethical decision-making is what may prove
to be most valuable. There are implications for architectural education, which in the past has either
pretended to be a science or has retreated into aesthetic speculation, providing training in the skills of
persuasion rather than relationship-building. The conclusion is that ethical thinking is inescapable for the
profession of architecture in the twenty-first century.

Introduction
This paper aims to introduce the wide range of instances where ethical problems touch upon the
profession of architecture; whilst it is related to practice rather than research, ethical dilemmas arise for
all of us as individuals, and my hope is that the dilemmas that the architectural profession faces and
their ethical analysis will find echoes in the context of research.
Architecture intersects with ethics in numerous ways. At a global scale the huge disparities in
affluence between differing parts of the world, and between differing sectors of society in the so-called
developed world, raise awkward issues of judgement that have led many who are trained in the design
disciplines to feel that the exercise of their skills is irrelevant, at least until such disparities are
substantially reduced. But the focus of my paper is on the particular professional dilemmas that
architects face, broadly within the context of the developed world. Within this topic, it seems, there is
plenty to concern us.
Like any professional activity, the practice of architecture involves codes of behaviour, but the
results are visible artefacts which necessarily reflect society’s values, and this makes for particularly
interesting problems of interpretation and judgement, across a very broad field. Among the many
issues which are entailed are the following:

• How should architects attempt to resolve what might be called a central paradox in their activity –
that, since it ‘intends what ought to be, it has a quasi-theoretical character; yet because it is a solution
that is “right in these circumstances” it is also non-theoretical’ [1]? The activity of architecture is
inescapably contingent on the particular, but at the same time the result is frequently required to
represent an ideal.
68 Nicholas Ray

• How is it proper to behave as a designer in relation to the user, the client, one’s fellow-designers or
one’s employees? Do architects deserve a privileged position, as artists of some kind, or are they
servants of society? Have the needs and aspirations of society in the twenty-first century changed in
such a way as to invalidate previously held notions of the architect’s role? Indeed does the
‘professional’ architect-client relationship have a place in the twenty-first century?
• Then, if the artefacts they create are to be enjoyed by more than the privileged few, what are the
responsibilities of architects to the public at large? This question would entail measurable issues such
as the responsibility that architects bear towards issues of sustainability (‘now the central moral
imperative for architects’ in the words of the business ethicist Jane Collier), and less easily
measurable issues as to the manner, or style, of the buildings. The question of ‘propriety’ or decor
was one of the Roman author Vitruvius’ five crucial terms for the understanding of architecture, so
this concern is hardly new [2].
• The mention of style raises the question of aesthetics, which is more frequently the locus for the
theoretical discussion of architecture. But can aesthetics be disassociated from ethics? Many argue
that aesthetic attitudes often mask, or act as a substitute for, ethical judgements.

It is debatable how far theoretical discussion affects matters of practice, and the contribution of
empirical evidence to the most fundamental philosophical issues is also problematic. I do believe,
however, that the examination of practice raises general philosophical issues – in architecture, the
pervasive influence of the thinking of Kant is particularly relevant. Nevertheless, the kinds of dilemmas
that are raised are not in themselves ‘fundamental’, and mostly revolve around ‘everyday’ ethical issues
– what is it right to do in these circumstances? Just as architecture is a ‘practical art’, maybe ethics can
be seen as a form of ‘practical philosophy’ [3].

Historical perspective
The concept of professionalism as we understand it is relatively recent, emerging in the nineteenth-
century and only formalized in this country in the 1936 Architects’ Registration Act. In Britain,
architecture is in fact a weak or even marginal profession, because realistically architects are ‘bit-part
players’ in the process of meeting society’s needs, and arguably they always have been. In the past they
have claimed authority for their activity as transcending mundane requirements to create art, and the
argument for art has involved ethical justifications. The propaganda of A W N Pugin, with its famous
insistence on ‘truth’ to materials, was no less sincere for being congruent with the social and economic
opportunities of the time: minimal explicit construction was valued as both an architectural and an
economic good [4]. Architects in public employment from the 1870s onwards, and later the members
of the Modern Movement, proclaimed a wider social mission, which reached its fulfilment in the post-
war schools and housing programmes. Architects in the last quarter of the twentieth century could see
themselves both as agents for social progress, and as artists within their particular field.

A case study in the twentieth century

If we take James Stirling’s History Faculty building at Cambridge, a notorious and ‘heroic’ building of
the 1960s, some of architects’ ethical dilemmas in the twentieth century are evident. This building was
highly regarded by architects on its completion, and continues to be admired for its formal
inventiveness, but has never won the affection of its users or the public. It was a time when the normal
contractual relationship between client, architect and building contractor entailed an in-built
professional dilemma. Architects were employed by their clients, who continued to pay their fees
throughout the period of design and construction. But as soon as a contract for the works was signed,
architects were required to act dispassionately between the parties to that contract, to be ‘quasi-
arbitrators’. In the face of claims by a contractor that information was inaccurate or inadequate, for
example, architects may be required to find in favour of the contractor, thereby admitting their own
 Architectural ethics 69

shortcomings and exposing their client to additional expense. It was a framework that tended towards
adversarial relationships between designers, clients and contractors. In common with many buildings
of the period, the History Faculty was innovative not only formally but also in its use of technology,
and it is easy to conclude with hindsight that this was bound to be problematic.
In 1985, I had the task of reviewing James Stirling’s recently published monograph on his work [5].
The building was by then in a parlous condition, and the university were considering demolishing it.
But in the book it was illustrated in a pristine state with glossy photographs. I admired its formal
elegance, but could not ignore its shortcomings. A philosopher friend directed me towards an essay by
Thomas Nagel entitled ‘The fragmentation of value’ [6], and I borrowed its framework in order to
identify some of the conflicts that all architects were faced with, and which seemed especially evident
in the example of Stirling’s work. Nagel had listed five fundamental types of value that give rise to
practical conflicts – obligations, rights, utility, perfectionist ends, and private commitments. He
claimed these necessarily entailed the exercise of not only professional but also ethical judgements.
The first of Nagel’s five fundamental types of value would embrace the specific obligations that
architects owe to their clients, those who pay their fees and those who use their buildings. These are
not necessarily the same people, of course, and any architect who has built for an institutional client
is familiar with the dilemmas of how to reconcile the demands of the user group, who usually rate
immediate comfort and convenience highest, with those of the commissioning client, for whom cost
certainty from the inception of the project and low maintenance charges during its lifetime are likely
to be paramount. But these are professional obligations, and as such not unique to architects. In terms
of both these groups, Stirling’s building is not very successful. This is not to say that he did not intend
to meet his client’s needs, however. Stirling undoubtedly believed that he was exercising his
architectural skill at the service of his clients, and some of the qualities admired by his critics do derive
directly from a consideration of the needs of the users: the remarkably even quality of natural light in
the main reading room for example. It is the case, however, that when there is a conflict between
aesthetic effect and usefulness, usually Stirling goes for the dramatic form or elegant profile.
Nagel’s second category, that of general rights, often acts as a constraint to the meeting of the specific
obligations of one’s client. This is frequently an issue at the stage of making a planning application,
when the local authority may seek to limit the ambitions of developers and their agents who are
seeking to maximize profits, in order to maintain acceptable standards of amenity. Architects will have
a duty both to their clients and to the wider environment. But less quantifiable questions may be raised
– the issue of whether a building that one proposed was ‘polite’ or ‘rude’ to its neighbours. The History
Faculty building was both criticized and praised for its bold treatment of its context. Of course the idea
that the artist would operate in opposition to conventional codes of aesthetic behaviour is sanctioned
by Nietzsche, and continues to carry an undeniable power. If architecture is an art, and one of the
functions of art is to subvert expectations, then it may be quite proper that buildings should challenge
the expectation that they should ‘keep in keeping’.
This brings us to Nagel’s third category: ‘that which is technically called “utility”’. Utility concerns
issues that bring general benefit or harm to all individuals, not just to the clients and users, or to
passers-by. An example of such issues is the environmental effect of one’s design decisions – whether
they minimize the use of non-renewable resources for example. Attitudes generally have changed since
the 1960s, and it is easy with hindsight to be critical of the way that technology was exploited then.
Stirling’s under-insulated building is expensive to heat and impossible to cool; adequate environmental
conditions could only be maintained by the consumption of considerable amounts of energy. Only a
few years later, campaigns began for an architecture of ‘long life, loose fit and low technology’, and now
it would be hard to find an architect of any persuasion who does not place issues of sustainability very
high on the agenda.
Fourthly, Nagel suggests that there are perfectionist ends or values. ‘Examples are provided’, he
writes, ‘by the intrinsic value of scientific discovery, of artistic creation, of space exploration, perhaps.’
Like most architects, Stirling probably regarded himself as an artist, and, if he was engaged in the
70 Nicholas Ray

production of a masterpiece, this might justify behaviour that in other respects could be judged
irresponsible. In his essay Moral luck, Bernard Williams introduced the case of the
…creative artist who turns away from definite and pressing human claims on him in order to
live a life in which, as he supposes, he can pursue his art. Without feeling that we are limited
by any historical facts, let us call him Gauguin[7].
What counts most for Gauguin is that he succeeds in his enterprize of being a great artist. If he does
succeed, history may retrospectively forgive him for his ‘immoral’ behaviour. But it is deeply troubling
that morality should be subject to luck, and that the outcome should justify the means. Williams
distinguished between luck that is intrinsic to the project (whether Gauguin turns out to be sufficiently
talented for his work to be judged by history as yielding ‘a good for the world’) and luck that is extrinsic
(Gauguin might drown en route to Tahiti and the possibility of his producing masterpieces would
thereby be forfeited). It is the problem of intrinsic luck that is critical: it contradicts the Kantian
imperative to exercize will in order to behave rightly whatever one’s personal talents or character might
be. In fact, the question of the personality of the agent, and whether that can affect the morality of one’s
actions, is particularly fraught. As Williams summarizes it in another essay, Kant argued that:
To make moral worth, the supreme value achievable by human beings, dependent on…
features of character, psychologically determined as they are, would be to make the capacity for
moral worth a species of natural advantage, and this is both logically incompatible with the
notion of the moral, and also in some ultimate sense hideously unfair.[8]
Yet, Williams argues, there are genuine differences between individuals, and Kant’s pursuit of his
position to its logical conclusion was a ‘shattering failure’:
No human characteristic which is relevant to degrees of moral esteem can escape being an
empirical characteristic, subject to empirical conditions, psychological history and individual
variation, whether it be sensitivity, persistence, imaginativeness, intelligence, good sense; or
sympathetic feeling; or strength of will.[9]
Nagel’s final category, which bears on the earlier discussion, is that of the commitment to one’s own
projects. This is not to be confused with mere self-interest: Nagel suggests that certain projects (works
of art, or music) make their own autonomous demands on their creators. The argument here, unlike
in the category of ‘perfectionist ends’, does not depend on the quality of the result as it is retrospectively
judged by history. It represents a value in itself for people engaged in living their own lives as creative
individuals. Architects will certainly recognize that imperative - of the project that demands their time,
of and for itself not merely because the client requires it, just when other duties call most pressingly.
How to reconcile these differing values is obviously the problem Nagel seeks to address. How can
individuals reconcile the conflicts of obligations, rights, utility, perfectionist ends, and private
commitments? In Nagel’s view they are not reconcilable in a straightforward way. It is in fact intrinsic
to professional judgement that it involves prioritising these unquantifiable ‘goods’.

The current professional context

The framework in which most architects work today has changed, however, in an attempt to avoid the
manifest difficulties of the traditional role of the dispassionate professional in twenty-first century
society. About ten years ago, Sir Michael Latham was responsible for initiating a process of reform in
the procurement of buildings that has profoundly influenced the way that architects practise[10].
Latham wished to empower the client at the expense of professionals, and to disengage architects from
the role I have outlined, as quasi-arbitrators in contracts between their clients and contractors.
Disputes should be resolved by adjudication, not by putting architects in this anomalous position.
Furthermore, the role of designer and contract administrator should be separated, the latter task being
more efficiently carried out by a project manager who should be a different individual and may well
 Architectural ethics 71

be from a different discipline. Architects therefore have to work as part of a team, in which they can
no longer expect to be the most important member.
Latham argued that the manifest inefficiency of the ‘traditional’ procurement route means that it is
unjustifiable. Many architects fear that a diminished role for design, as decoration applied to projects
whose major decisions are taken on exclusively measurable grounds, militates against excellence: the
fundamental problem is that our society is dominated by accountability and cost and not imagination
and value, an attitude that was reflected particularly in the later report by Lord Egan [11]. That split
between aesthetic and rational values arguably originated in the industrial revolution, and the earlier
distinctions made in the Enlightenment between imagination and reason. As guardians of the
incommensurable (‘art’), architects are disadvantaged, in the Government’s favoured procurement
method, the PFI project, when economies are made in anything that cannot give evidence of a
quantifiable value. If aesthetic excellence is in danger of being discounted entirely, maybe means of
measurement should be found – Design Quality Indicators are an attempt to do this.
It is possible to acknowledge the changed role of the profession and view it more positively,
however. Many will be aware of the recent penetrating analysis by David Marquand of the decline of
the public domain, and recent efforts to re-construct it in a completely changed landscape [12]. He
describes the benefits, and perils, of government policies that aim to build and manage public facilities
with private funds, and in particular examines the effect on designing for health care. In that sector,
architects work within consortia, which compete for appointments over a considerable period of time
in order to deliver health care buildings. The continuity which can ensue and the necessary teamwork
are welcome, and architects may have a central role in a new way of working. It is not just their
expertise in planning room arrangements that is valued, but their ability to balance managerial values
(technical competence for example) with ethical decision-making on issues that are less easily
quantifiable. Better environments do promote better well-being, in ways that are beginning to be
measured, but the primary requirement is for members of the design team to exercise empathetic
judgements which anticipate scientific enquiry and measurement.
But if architects are to be key participants in this activity, they need ‘ethical house-training’.
Unfortunately, architectural education has either pretended to be a science or has retreated into
aesthetic speculation – a concentration on the stylistic at the expense of the socially grounded - and
has provided training in the skills of persuasion rather than relationship-building. Architects have to
learn a new skill, to discover in dialogue the appropriate terms and direction of the demand for form.
The purpose of developing measurable design standards - the Design Quality Indicators about which
many remain deeply sceptical - is therefore not so much to establish universally valid benchmarks as
to engage in a process which relies less on peer-approval and itself helps direct design towards ideals
that can be shared by all. Out of such practice, ‘art’ may emerge.

The accountability of the profession, and a core ethical position

If, as Nagel holds, the conflicting values that architects have to choose between are irreconcilable, is
there anything that can be done to bring together the two responses I have outlined to the changed
professional context in the twenty-first century? In 2002 the philosopher Onora O’Neill examined the
problem of trust within the medical, legal and academic professions in her series of Reith Lectures [13].
Architecture is another profession where targets have been set so that performance may be controlled,
judged and sanctioned. Professional accountability had perhaps come to be seen as a cloak for
professional cosiness and inadequacy. Yet, she argues, the very phrase managerial accountability
suggests a conflation of tasks. Management is directed at those who are managed, but accountability
to others who are not managed (for example shareholders, electors, or clients). Holding professionals
or institutions to account for their performance may not be best done by managing their performance.
Governance and management are distinct activities. Professions that take accountability seriously
would need intelligent forms of professional accountability that secure informed and independent
professional judgement, and they need to communicate these intelligibly to relevant audiences.
72 Nicholas Ray

It may be that the ecological crisis provides an agenda that can act as a means for architects to
communicate their wider social role. The central moral imperative for anyone concerned with the built
environment is the issue of sustainability in all its aspects. As a ‘practice’ architecture has always had
to reconcile the artistic aims of individuals with the social processes which are necessary when groups
endeavour to achieve an end. Architects are required to be visionary, but also to work in collaboration
with others: good practice reflects both individual excellence and virtuous relationships within the
practice community. Some have proposed that the philosophical position of Pragmatism gives the kind
of moral imagination that is required its proper role, and is more appropriate than a rule-based ethics.
As I have suggested, architects are required above all to exercise ‘empathetic imagination’ – to put
themselves in the position of others. All businesses are expected to do this, but in an artistic activity
like architecture good moral judgement can in fact be seen as aesthetic. In an era of intensely ecological
responsibility, it is the exercise of moral imagination at a collective level that is most crucial.

Conclusions
What are the lessons for architectural practice? On architects’ day-to-day behaviour, the need for
working within a team is clear, and the way that architects are trained is crucial; in the past this has
too often tended to encourage the notion of heroic individual invention rather than the discovery of
form in dialogue with others. Sir Michael Latham explicitly advocated the restriction of architects’ role,
primarily on the grounds of efficiency, although it is arguable that, despite architects’ rhetoric, it always
was quite limited. I examined a building, the Cambridge History Faculty, where judgements between
conflicting values had to be made, but the architect was operating within what seems, with the benefit
of hindsight, to have been a privileged relationship – one that will be restricted in the future, Latham
predicts, to very few bespoke commissions. How the unquantifiable aspect of architecture can then be
incorporated, so that the possibility remains of enduring work emerging, will surely continue to
exercise architects. Their work is required to be accountable, but a form of accountability needs to be
fashioned which is truly appropriate to the professional activity in which they are engaged and is not,
as Onora O’Neill finds too often to be the case, inappropriately managerial.
What is called for is not therefore some form of quantifiable check-list but a context within which
sound judgements can be made, and that implies a degree of professional trust. Ethical thinking is
therefore inescapable for the profession of architecture in the twenty-first century; the difficulty
architects and other members of the design professions face in resolving the many dilemmas that our
society raises places the debate properly within the philosophical domain.

References
1. Leatherbarrow, David. The roots of architectural invention; site, enclosure, materials. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993.
2. Vitruvius. Ten books on Architecture. trans. Rowland, Ingrid D. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999.
3. Some of these issues are examined in my forthcoming book ‘Architecture and its ethical dilemmas’ to be published by Taylor and
Francis in November 2005. It arose out of a conference in 2004 in Cambridge, and this paper draws freely on those proceedings.
4. Pugin, AWN. The true principles of Pointed or Christian architecture. London: John Weale, 1841.
5. Stirling, James. James Stirling: buildings and projects. London: Architectural Press, 1984. My review appeared as ‘First person
singular, in Architects’ Journal 5th June 1985, 28-31.
6. Nagel, Thomas. The fragmentation of value in mortal questions. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1979.
7. Williams, Bernard. Moral luck, philosophical papers 1973-1980. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981.
8. Williams, Bernard. Morality and the emotions. In Problems of the self, philosophical papers 1956-1972. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1973.
9. Ibid
10. Latham, M. Constructing the team. London: HMSO, 1994.
11. Egan, John. Rethinking construction. London: HMSO, 1998.
12. Marquand, David. Decline of the public, the hollowing-out of citizenship. Cambridge: Polity Press, 2004.
13. O’Neill, Onora. A question of trust. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002.