Ian Martin

Monday
I have been asked to devise a performance-related fee system for architects. I suggest bonuses for the designers of hospitals where patients get well sooner, and visitor centres in which the experience is demonstrably heightened.

Tuesday
Lunch with Fred Trousers, president of the RIPBU. I have promised to help him prioritise his initiatives for the coming year, which turns out to be surprisingly easy: we simply put them in alphabetical order.

For now, Overseas Affairs and Windmills On The Roof can wait. The priority is “Agurbanismenda”.

But what does he mean? He polishes his glasses. “The RIPBA ceased to be an institute for the protection of architects some time ago, instead becoming an institute for the protection of architecture. Then last month it became an institute for the protection of urbanism. The time has now come to make a bolder step and to open our doors, bearing in mind the need for flush thresholds and adequate turning circles…”

I’m still not with him. “If we put ‘urbanism’ at the heart of ‘agenda’, we can invite all sorts of people to join an institute for the protection of ‘agurbanismenda’, which means we can be the RIPBA again and not have to change our initials. Which in some places have been expensively etched into glass!”

Say what you like about Trousers, his enthusiasm is infectious. I find myself beaming at the drinks waiter. Soon we are trying to sort alphabetically those eligible to join the regenerated RIPBA. It’s a long list, as, these days, there are many cognate professions engaged in the vital process of community engineering: architects, cyclists, developers, environmental arbitrators, landscapologists, multi-agents, non-smokers, personal assistants, place-makers, plan shifters, poets, psychogeographers, public relations operatives, social organisers and web designers, for instance.

“Cross-platform lobbies are all very well, but we need something more cohesive than an umbrella,” he says, putting his lunch into context. “At present, we’re a bit disjointed. Over the next year I want all those involved in the beautiful urban game to form a sustainable community…”

I visualise, with a shudder, a live/work seaside development populated entirely by urbanists. It would be friendly, but gritty. There would be conversational codes and eclectic dress. But he’s not talking about Brighton for brainstormers, but the kind of notional community created through knowledge-sharing among fellow institutes.

“We are moving towards more cross membership,” he says, and he’s right. He should see some of the emails I get from RIPBA members.

Anyway, why must everything these days — design, hairstyles, cars, myths, music — be urban? Are urbanists effectively off-duty outside the city, or are they morally obliged to take the urbanist jihad to the suburbs and beyond?

Surely there must be exemptions for architects working in the countryside who don’t want to be urbanists… He thinks for a moment. “Designing a country house would be an exception.”

Wednesday
I have been appointed masterplanner for a council-estate project in south London.

Residents may be poor, but they certainly haven’t been deprived of masterplanners — I’m the fifth so far. No idea what was wrong with the previous four. Perhaps they neglected to put urbanism at the heart of their agenda.

I, on the other hand, will consult the community, engage with stakeholders, etc. After a useful “getting to know you” session with the landlord of the local pub, I arrange for a Masterplan Suggestion Box to be left on the bar. Let the users speak.

Thursday
I find myself becoming fiercely critical of Milton Keynes’ proposed “growth zone”. Why should inhabitants of the town be treated as one big lump? I call for individual growth zones that would allow people to expand in their own time.

Friday
Nothing in my Masterplan Suggestion Box yet.

Saturday
At last, some suggestions: “bouncy castle”, “cheaper fags”, “fitter-looking blokes”, “vintage-car joyriding”, “gun-sharing scheme”, “something a bit less urban”. Memo to self: don’t let the users speak.

Sunday
Occupancy survey in the leisure centre.