The value of ethics lies
in its asking uncomfortable questions about our often-unchallenged assumptions
about power and privilege and about our often-unexamined responsibilities to
others who have neither. This is particularly an issue in architecture, which
Nietzsche called “the will to power by means of form,” a field that because of
its difficulty and expense often finds itself complicit in accommodating and
reinforcing the power and privilege of those who have the money to commission
it.
Because of the questions
it asks, ethics can seem like a threat to architecture and so ethics has
largely had a marginal role in architectural education. The rise of
architectural education in the second half of the 19th Century coincided
with an effort, led by the critic Oscar Wilde, to separate the realm of aesthetics
from that of ethics. We see that separation in the formalism and aestheticism
of 19th and early 20th century Beaux Arts architecture,
in which the focus on the creation of classical facades and idealized interior
and exterior environments papered over the industrial pollution, environmental
destruction, and social inequality that enriched the public and private clients
of those buildings.
Architects themselves
played a somewhat paradoxical role in this. On one hand, the profession had
become complicit in enabling those in power to feel good about themselves, with
the discourse in schools of architecture largely focused on the skill with
which students could learn this classical disguise. One the other hand, the
profession itself found itself increasingly exploited by those in power, which
led, in 1909, to the AIA’s first code of ethics. The prohibitions in that first
code against the exploitative practices of clients wanting architects, for
example, to give away their design ideas in unpaid competitions or to compete
for work based on who had the lowest fees, shows how much the unfair treatment that
had enriched those who commissioned buildings had gotten applied to those who
designed them.
The rise of modern
architecture in the schools in the 1920s and 30s might seem like a ripping away
of the Beaux Arts façade and the recognition of the needs of the working class.
Certainly modern architects’ admiration of industrial architecture, emphasis on
transparency, and attention to new kinds of programs, like worker housing, all
reinforce that appearance. But modern architecture actually represented a new
kind of ethical slight of hand, based on what the philosopher William Barrett
has called “the illusion of technique.” While modern architecture seemed more
sympathetic to the plight of the working class through the use of industrial
materials and methods, the profession and the schools did little to challenge
the social, economic or political power of clients. In addition, the “international
style” ignored differences of culture or climate, turning the idea of universal
rights into a form of repression.
Ethics finally emerged in
the late 1960s as an explicit area of study in architecture education, becoming
part of the accreditation process in the 1970s. And since then, we have seen a
flourishing of ethical questioning in the schools, be it challenges to the
dominance of men and male ways of thinking on the part of feminist ethics or
challenges to the dominance of humans over other species on the part of
environmental ethics, challenges
to the dominance of capitalism and its exploitation of workers on the part of
Marxist ethics, or challenges to the dominance of reason and abstract
rationality on the part of phenomenological ethics.
This “ethical turn” in
architecture education has greatly enriched the intellectual life in our schools,
although it has had relatively little impact on a profession still dependent on
those individuals, organizations and communities with enough wealth and power
to commission architects. And that has washed back over the schools of late, as
architectural education has seen the resurgence in aestheticism and the
illusion of technique as a result of the digital revolution, in which computer-generated
form-making and digital fabrication methods have become an end in themselves,
with the needs of the global population, future generations, and other species
on the planet largely overlooked.
So pay attention to what
issues are not addressed in a design, to what questions don’t get asked in a
review, and what goes unsaid in the stories we tell about ourselves as a
profession and a discipline. That is where you will find the “will to power” in
our field and where you will discover the real power of ethics.
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