Is the title of ‘architect’ still fit for purpose?

A few weeks ago, before the summer break, Tessa Baird, director of OEB Architects, publicly challenged a client organisation over an invitation to tender that required architects to carry out RIBA stage 2 feasibility work across multiple small sites, without any payment. Her social media post went viral and resonated deeply.

It captured what many of us in the architectural profession have been feeling for some time, that architectural expertise is frequently undervalued, and our time is treated as expendable. Many practitioners added their opinions to the discussion.

Standing on Tessa’s shoulders, I contributed my own thoughts. It was a rare moment of togetherness, from small and large architectural practices speaking with one voice.

The client later admitted that they had “got it wrong” and are now reconsidering the tender. While that outcome is welcome, the incident should not be seen as resolved.

It deserves further scrutiny. What does this say about how architects are perceived and valued in today’s construction industry?

It reveals an uncomfortable truth. Some clients, along with the consultants who advise them, continue to see architects as disposable.

There remains a widespread assumption that we will compete against one another, offering our time, creativity, and intellectual labour without compensation for the mere possibility of a future project. Larger open competitions only intensify this dynamic, embedding a culture of exploitation.

If the function of the architect is not protected, then what exactly are we defending by clinging to the name?

Even if you do not participate, the profession feels the ripple effects. As the Highlander said, “There can be only one!” Everyone else walks away with nothing, except a drained team and depleted resources.

Unfortunately, in the society we live in, often anything that is free is not valued or appreciated. Ask a solicitor for free advice and see how far you get.

The fact that one social media post could so powerfully capture the collective frustration of the profession, and forced a client to backtrack, demonstrates the strength we hold when we speak with one voice. I wonder what more could be achieved if the architectural profession acted truly collectively more often?

It also prompts a deeper, more fundamental inquiry into the very essence of who we are. Is the title ‘architect’ still fit for purpose and valued in the world we now occupy?

Before anyone rushes to cancel me and the trolls start typing, allow me to explain. I love being an architect. I love the work, the challenge, the act of shaping places that improve lives.

However, the title itself? I am no longer certain that it serves us well.

It is a word steeped in history, derived from the ancient Greek words arkhi (master) and tekton (builder). Yet we are no longer master builders.

The title is now burdened by outdated expectations and growing confusion. Today, we share the title with software developers, business consultants, and systems designers.

If the function of the architect is not protected, then what exactly are we defending by clinging to the name?

The status of the profession has been steadily diminished

Spending time on construction sites reveals how architects are perceived in practice. Too often, we are seen as detached from the realities of delivery, overly conceptual, egotistical or technically uncertain.

While these perceptions are not always accurate, they are not without basis. The status of the profession has been steadily diminished by fee erosion, speculative work, and a culture that encourages competition over collaboration.

Do we really convey what we truly bring to the table beyond the glossy Instagram image? Or perhaps I am misguided, and have been listening to too many episodes of The Broke Architect podcast.

Our contribution is not limited to visuals or design statements. We mediate risk, manage complexity, and shape environments that enhance lives.

We translate abstract ideas into physical spaces that promote wellbeing, sustainability, and social and economic value. Yet because our contribution is difficult to quantify, it is often overlooked or undervalued.

There are many oncoming challenges facing the profession, including artificial intelligence, which is no longer just a distant threat. It is here now and accelerating rapidly. It is already automating parts of the design process, improving efficiency, and changing the way we work.

AI will change us fundamentally, and how we function. In time, it may even reduce the number of registered architects. Those who remain will be defined by creativity, empathy, and the ability to shape human experience in ways that machines cannot replicate.

My generation is anxious about the future, and those who follow us appear even more so

Much like the invention of the camera forced painters to reimagine their purpose, artificial intelligence will compel us to reconsider both how we work and why we exist.

One promising opportunity lies in the evolving role and title of the Principal Designer. As regulatory demands, building safety, and project coordination take centre stage, this role is becoming essential to the successful delivery of buildings.

Principal Designers will hold trust, responsibility, and measurable value. This role could restore the authority and relevance architects once held. If we do not seize this opportunity, others will.

I can see that the ARB and RIBA are trying to understand the complicated issues facing the profession and create some togetherness and re-establish standing. The ARB is doing this through the revised code of conduct for architects, offering clearer guidance on professional competence, climate responsibility, and duty to the public.

RIBA is also making efforts through initiatives such as the Future Architects programme and the review of procurement practice. These are positive steps, but we must go further to shift public and industry perceptions if we are to regain our value.

If statutory requirements are immovable and fee scales will not make a reappearance then better ethical guidance is required for clients, on how they appoint architects. Let’s not leave it to advisors.

What do we want to become?

Leadership also requires humility. A good architect must be able to leave behind a good idea.

Perhaps we must now do the same with our professional identity. A rebrand may be necessary.

A new title that reflects the full scope and value of what our work can do. Not to discard our history, but to adapt it for a world that is changing.

These may well be signs of a larger shift. My generation is anxious about the future, and those who follow us appear even more so.

I have observed that Generation Z architecture students are beginning to question the purpose of the profession itself. Combine this with accelerating technology, economic instability, and global volatility, and it feels like a perfect storm.

In times of anxiety, clarity often emerges. Like a broken pencil, it is only when it breaks that you truly understand it.

Yes, I am being deliberately provocative. I still love the idea of being called an architect, and I do not believe the title will disappear within my lifetime. However, it increasingly feels like a label that limits more than it empowers.

Perhaps now is the time to pause, reflect, and ask the most difficult question of all:

What do we want to become?