Morally? Ethically? or Sense & Sensibility?
Pre-Conceptions About Practice (Part I)
The following series is extracted from journal entries made during my studies in Professional Practice, in part completion of course requirements for the degree Masters of Architecture in 2014. This series examines both the preconceptions and social conception of what an 'architect' is and the actual challenges faced by architects as professional practitioners.
“Common sense, common care, and common prudence, were all sunk into Mrs. Dashwood’s romantic delicacy.”
Where does morality begin? Where does architectural duty end? For me, these questions begin with the history of architecture and the preservation of the urban fabric, something which served as the original inspiration to study architecture. Whilst I may not possess the same ‘romantic delicacies’ as Mrs. Dashwood in Sense and Sensibility, I am fully aware that architects, as builders of the social sphere, cannot afford to drop the moral high standard which is expected of us. Indeed it is essential for architects, as negotiators and as the generalist coordinator as we have previously identified to uphold the standards of society - and where fault is found, whilst it is not necessarily our legal duty, it is certainly our moral duty to enforce change for the greater good.
At the same time however, with my mind set to the world of historical preservation, it is often also said that ‘progress, for progress’ sake, ought to be discouraged.’ (The Inquistor, Professor Umbridge, Harry Potter) In Hong Kong, my home town for example, the issue of preservation has been a very contentious subject. The Hong Kong Club Building for example, completed in 1981 by our very own Harry Seidler involved a removal of a far older Victorian architectural monument, by Palmer & Turner, one of Asia’s oldest British practices (whose work for example dot the historic The Bund, Shanghai). Dressed as progress and indeed, the Seidler building in Hong Kong represents yet again Seidler’s interest in post-tensioned concrete and the expression of concrete in architecture, mostly unseen, even today. However, is the HKD$150 Million (AUD$22.5 Million 2015) annual rental income for the Hong Kong Club (See: SCMP Report, 2013) not also a possible motive for transforming the three storey CBD site into a 25 level tower?
The Hong Kong Club, c. 1928
Palmer & Turner Architects
(Via: Wikipedia, Public Domain)
The Hong Kong Club, c. 2014
Harry Seidler & Associates
(Via: Google Streetview)
This moral high ground is of course fraught with difficulties as well. Whilst we may assume there are universal principles which must be upheld, we cannot necessarily impose our own moral standing upon other cultures. Where buildings in Chinese traditional cultures are not perceived as embodying a cultural and historical past, the British and indeed European sentiment for preservation was obviously deeply engrained in this particular case-study.
Moving into more solid ground of legal definitions, there are, as I have already previously noted, codes of conduct and statutory frameworks which highlights the ‘duties’ and ‘obligations’ of registered architects. In my opinion however, this does not absolve in any way the questions of morality and ethics. These frameworks for me highlight the ‘required’ duty of care which architects MUST always practice, they do not, in my view represent the best or highest standard of care, something which I feel will come with experience.
At the same time, the problem of legal frameworks and code of conduct within architecture is that it raises the unique question of interpretation, which of course permeates most issues within the legal field. The law however is necessarily ambiguous so that we can fit different contexts into the law - the law is adaptive to changing times and values and differs among cultures. In terms of professional conduct of architects, i believe that the ambiguity of the law provides fair opportunities in certain situations for both the architect and the client to each state their cases for disagreement. The law is not designed to protect exclusively the interests of either party, it is perceived as an impartial body which determines cases based on the strength of the arguments put forward.
Furthermore, because the code of conduct for architects applies to both ‘sole practitioners’ and ‘large corporations’ we cannot specifically prescribe universally the tasks an architect might do. This is also because the context and situation must be separated for each case and project. The code of conduct, difficult as it maybe for interpretation, must therefore be open enough to allow a high degree of autonomy and individual interpretation - most importantly, it cannot directly prescribe how architects ‘work’ in their firms in a sense that it is not here to govern creative processes and work flows. It is here to ensure malpractice and a high level of professional conduct is executed at all times and that architects behave with integrity. In fact the codes and laws have themselves changed as the discipline of architecture, introduction of new technologies and increasing complexity of projects has occurred. As the week’s readings highlight, these vary form the 8 mandatory standards of 1947, to the introduction of a code of ethics in 1993 to the 10 rules of marketing success, which governs how architects should make money (equally important of course).
Each of course are shaped by the architectural needs and desires of the times, as well as a recognition of the fact that the role of the architect in practice has in and of itself become more diverse, more generalist and more managerial in terms of project coordination. The architect in fact is situated within a complex legal structure, creative process dynamic, and is a negotiator between the many stakeholders and consultants needed to execute a project successfully.
The questions which I think I will continue to struggle with therefore is whether I can opt to not work in particular regions, for political or social beliefs. But at the same time, what if a project is given to me as part of a major corporation, do I have the luxury of choosing my projects and working with a purely clear conscience? Am I able to genuinely uphold a moral and ethical standard or, as Philip Johnson said, am I merely a prostitute to the highest bidder in the capitalist market?