This article offers an overview of issues in the philosophy ofarchitecture. Central issues include foundational matters regardingthe nature of:
Yet other questions engage applied philosophical concerns regardingarchitecture, such as the character of architectural notation;intellectual property rights; and client-architect obligations.
A far-reaching philosophy of architecture extends beyond even abroadly aesthetics-based assessment, to include considerations ofethics, social and political philosophy, and philosophical reflectionson psychology and the behavioral sciences. The aesthetics ofarchitecture, by itself, spans traditional issues mooted in philosophyof art, as well as aesthetics of the everyday, and environmentalaesthetics. Such traditional issues include the nature of the work;the possibility of classes, kinds, or types in the domain; thecharacter and roles of representation, intentionality, and expression;and the warranted foundations for criticism. The ethics ofarchitecture also addresses traditional issues, including delineationof rights, responsibilities, the good, virtues, and justice inarchitectural milieus. Still other aspects of philosophy ofarchitecture concern social and technological characteristics.
Over the course of Western philosophy, including the history ofaesthetics, architecture has largely failed to attract sustained,detailed attention—particularly as compared with otherartforms. Neither philosophical issues prompted by architecture, northe fit of architectural phenomena into larger philosophical debates,have captured the philosophical imagination as have, for example,literature or painting. Some contributions across the span of Westernphilosophy—including those of Wolff and Schopenhauer—rankas historically significant; other, more recent accounts arebroad-ranging and gravid with conceptual concerns, including those ofScruton and Harries. Further, some philosophers have even dabbled inarchitectural projects: Dewey contributed to plans for the ChicagoLaboratory School, Wittgenstein collaborated on designing a house forhis sister, and Bentham sketched the Panopticon design as a plan forprison reform. Yet the overall state of philosophical reflection onarchitecture—even in the present day—is less lively thanlike discussions focused on artforms of far more recent origin, suchas film or comics. Some philosophers working in the Continentaltradition have offered accounts of the experience of architecture orits social ramifications; a deficiency is more marked in analyticaesthetics.
For more on the background and context of conceptual explorationsof architecture, see the supplementary documents:
Philosophy of Architecture in Historical Perspective
Philosophy and the Tradition of Architectural Theory
This essay refers generally to the basic creative output ofarchitects, in any (unspecified) form, as “architecturalobjects”. This is in parallel with the term “artobjects” in use, across aesthetics and philosophy of art, torefer to objects created by artists independent of the artform andwithout regard to ontological or other discussions where other termsmay evoke one or another particular stance. It may turn out that“architectural object” proves value-laden. Yet this isless likely than with common alternatives in the literature:“architectural works”, perhaps wedded to creator intent,status as extant or integral whole, or aesthetic ranking; or“buildings”, certainly wedded to built, hence concrete,structures. “Built structures” is used here (except inhistorical reference) to refer to the generic built output resultingfrom architectural design, in recognition of a domain some view asbroader than buildingsper se.
Fundamental questions about the nature of architecture motivatemuch of contemporary philosophy of architecture: what sort ofenterprise architecture is; whether architecture has essentialfeatures; what kinds of things architecture makes—yielding thefurther issue as to whether architecture always, only sometimes, ornever is an artform; what renders architecture distinct from otherartforms (if it is one); and whether architecture includes all builtstructures.
One approach to grasping the true nature of architecture is todefine it in terms of the discipline. We may embrace the disciplinarydeterminism of the British architect Cedric Price: “Architectureis what architects do”. Defining the discipline or practice ofarchitecture may seem a simple empirical affair. Even if we havedifficulty assessing what architectural objects or products are, wecan point to thousands of architects over several millennia around theworld engaged in one or another sets of activities that conventionallyhave been associated with architectural practice, and generate a longdisjunctive claim about what architects do. An empirically rootedapproach has a long history: Vitruvius devises his normative accountof the virtuous architect on the basis of his familiarity withthen-contemporary practice. The same is true of other traditionalaccounts of virtue in architects or builders, as in the sixth toeighth century IndianMānasāra(मानसार) (Acharya 1928) andeleventh century ChineseYingzao fashi(營造法式) (Feng 2012). In the present-day,sociology of the architectural profession offers a detailed empiricalperspective (Gutman 1988), and this can be extended to a sociology ofarchitectural worlds, modeled on Becker’s sociology of artworlds.
A problem arises, though, if we look to history or sociology for aunified account with common features of an architecturaldiscipline. While architectural practice has remained stable incertain respects, change over its history greatly limits commonfeatures, perhaps, to a core set of basic tools and rudimentaryprinciples of structural engineering. This suggests that, at root, thepractice of architecture must involve engineering or relateddesign. But architecture can’t be reduced to a form ofengineering, if we think architectural ideals, taste, and expertisecontribute something over and above engineering facts, rules, andpractical knowledge. These further contributions suggest an art orart-like role for architectural practice. However, the historicalrecord is mixed on the matter of whether architects are at the sametime pursuing art (or what we now consider as art) or should bethought of as artists. Moreover, the historical record and resultingdisjunctive claim do not address cases where even the most basic toolsor structural principles are not deployed. Some such cases of notobserving basic structural principles, as fantasy architecture, may bedeemed marginal; other such cases, as landscape architecture, arenot.
Another dimension of defining architecture as a practice isspecifying the sorts of structures that architects design. At a bareminimum, we can say that they feature some connection to humanuse. But attempts to render this as non-trivial introduce furtherpuzzles (see §2.3).
A contrasting definitional approach suggests that, as a matter ofreasoned judgment, we can attribute to architectural practice—orto the domain of architectural objects—core or even essentialfeatures. A dominant reading of the Vitruvian tradition has it thatarchitecture embodies and is best understood through the three aspectsof beauty, structural integrity, and utility. An essentialist variantsuggests that architects must observe all three aspects or that anystructure aspiring to architectural status features all three. Otherprominent views advance a single aspect, generally function or form,as primary. Thus, functionalist architectural doctrine places functionor utility at the heart of the architectural enterprise, with otheraspects of architecture subordinate thereto.
A hard-line functional essentialist holds that, if a builtstructure has no function, then it is not architecture. As a modestdissent, Graham (1989) proposes that such a structureis anarchitectural work—but afailure at such. One brand ofmore radical rejection suggests that some architecturalobjects—perhaps including follies, memorials, ormonuments—need have no function at all. As a competingessentialism, formalist architectural doctrine suggests that an objectis architectural just in case it features forms proper to thedomain. A common interpretation says that forms proper to architecturecan be chosen off a stylistic menu (or combination of menus), leavingarchitects great latitude while upholding the possibility ofcontrasting, non-architectural forms (this is difficult to square,however, with some experimental architecture).
In weighting architecture’s aspects as essential, core, orsome lesser status, a related question is whether one or anotheraspect is primary or necessary to any of the others. As Graham notes(1989), the traditional question in architectural theory of whetherform trumps or precedes function may be cast in such terms.
Against these traditional brands of essentialism, two further kindsof doubt may be cast. First, it may be that the Vitruvian triad, orsome single aspect thereof, does not represent the right list—weshould include either further aspects or different aspectsaltogether. Alternatives might include dimensions such as context,relations among architectural objects, systemic features,sustainability, and psychological or social features. Some theoristspropose other candidates as essential architectural aspects, includingspace (Zevi 1978) or the organizing concept of theparti(Malo 1999).
Second, it may be that essentialism represents a false start. Onone non-essentialist view, the nature of an architectural object is aswe experience it, a matter upon which we may agree but which dependsin part on subjective perception and reception of, and interactionwith, the work (Scruton 1979/2013). This leaves open the possibilitythat architecture has essential aspects but we simply don’texperience them as such. A more determined nominalist has it thatdiversity among architectural objects is sufficient to quash theprospect that they share anyessential aspects.
Yet another way to pose the question of what architecture isfocuses on the sorts of things architectural objects are. Inparticular, and relative to architecture’s possible status asartform, architecture as a domain may be defined variously in terms ofits objects being art objects (or not), being distinctive sorts of artobjects, or belonging exhaustively to aspecial class ofbuilt structures (rather than including all such structures).
Whether architecture always, only sometimes, or never is anartform. At the negative extreme, architecture may be viewedlike any engineered artifact that only incidentally bears aestheticvalue. Any view of even slightly more positive valence bows in thedirection of intent to generate aesthetic value. The classic Vitruvianview, for example, has it that engineered design and aesthetic designare conjoint intentional elements of architectural objects. At thepositive extreme, that is, the suggestion that architecture is alwaysand in all ways an art, we may lose any means of discriminating amongbuilt structures as art or not. This is a troubling prospect toexclusivists who see architecture as a high art only (see below).
In the negative camp, S. Davies (1994) argues that mere productionof occasional artworks does not suffice to constitute anartform—crafts being a notable example—and the aim ofarchitecture is frequently, or even typically, not the production ofart but useful items that do not aim at artistic value. In thepositive camp, Stecker (2010) responds that we can carve out asubclass of architectural objects that are art even if not all are. Headds, by way of historical argument, that architecture was includedamong the artforms, by early agreement among aestheticians. We mighthave grounds for dismissing architecture from the canonical list ifthe nature of architecture has changed, and in this vein Stecker notesa rising tide of building design that is functionally oriented withoutsignificant aesthetic investment. A further alternative is to say thatarchitectural objects are all art works, or at least intended as such,within bounds. To make sense of the term “vernaculararchitecture” requires that we see architectural objects astypically art objects, while we make allowance for a broad class ofarchitectural objects that are low-art rather than high-art.
If the negative view is correct, then we need at least a workableset of criteria by which to discriminate architectural objects asart. To this end, we may draw on our intuitions, norms, or sociallyexpressed views. Further considerations may include the pertinentcultural tradition in which an architectural object is created,whether particular sorts of aesthetic qualities count more towardsartwork status, or whether there is instrumental benefit inconsidering the object as art.
What renders architecture distinct from other artforms (ifit is one). If architecture counts among the artforms, we maythink that it has distinctive features as such. For example, Scruton(1979/2013) suggests that architecture is anon-representational artform since it need not—andgenerally does not—represent any content. Despitearchitecture’s non-representational status, Scruton agrees withLanger (1953) (and anticipates Goodman (1985)) that architecturalobjects can express or refer; in his view, to thoughts associated withexpressed properties. Others focus on architecture’s distinctivecommitments to creator or user engagement. Winters (2011) seesarchitecture as a “critical” artform, requiring thecreator’s engagement in the environment where other artforms maytolerate a creator’s detached stance. Another distinctive markof architecture among the artforms is its nontraditional status as anarrative medium: the design of circulatory pathways allowsarchitectural objects to communicate a sequence of events through themovement of visitors or inhabitants.
Whether architecture includes all builtstructures. Among the issues noted here, that of the greatestconsequence is the question of what counts among architecturalobjects. On aninclusivist or expansive conception,architectural objects are those designed objects ranging over thewhole of the built environment; on anexclusivist conception,the range describes only some coherent subset of the whole of thebuilt environment. Examples of exclusivist subsets include (a) onlybuilt structures that people can occupy (typically: houses, temples,office buildings, factories, etc.), or (b) only built structuresdesigned in primarily aesthetic (rather than purely functional)terms. An inclusivist conception entails a vastly larger architecturaldomain of objects—and areas of practice and inquiry.
Proponents of exclusivity (S. Davies 1994, Scruton 1979/2013) areeager to protect architecture as the preserve of just those objects inthe built environment with abundant, apparent, and appreciableaesthetic qualities; clear creator’s intentions to generate art;or the panache of high art and engagement with art historicaltrajectories. Stecker (2010) offers a putative variation, allowingthat as a broader creative medium architecture has an inclusivistcharacter—though, as anartform, architecture isexclusivist. Scruton, for his part, identifies a specific intent toexalt: architecture as a pursuit has lofty goals or purposes,such that architectural objects do as well. One commonsensejustification for exclusivity overlaps with an institutionalistperspective: laymen and connoisseurs alike can differentiate betweenthe striking work of an architect and the humdrum, cookie-cutterbuilding design of a draftsman.
Arguments for inclusivity include Carlson’s appeal (1999) toconsider the class of architectural objects as of a continuum with thebroader class of everyday designed objects, where everything admits ofpossible aesthetic appreciation. Then,contra Stecker, we caneffortlessly count all built structures as architecture, though somesuch things—like garage doors or drainage ditches—willneither look like, nor be, art. Another line of attack is to respondto exclusivists that architects simply have intentions to createobjects that are, in one aspect, art—and that they may fail asart is beside the point. Further, it may be that recognizingintentions is irrelevant to judging a built structure as architecture,as when we judge as architecture the vernacular structures of foreigncultures. In response to Scruton’s exaltation criterion, theinclusivist may note that for all artforms, there are typicallyinnumerable objects in the domain with no such goals—andpossibly no goals at all. Finally, inclusivism has its own commonsensejustification: we standardly refer to a creator of a mundane builtstructure as the architect, which seems less a linguistic shortcutthan recognition of the training and ethos attached to the creator ofarchitectural objects.
It is not clear how to craft intermediary positions betweeninclusivism and exclusivism, given that the various brands ofexclusivism are not absolute and test cases are instead subject tojudgment along any number of parameters. Stecker’s exclusivismfor only architecture as art represents one such relativizedstance. Inclusivism, by contrast—along with any attached viewson, for example, architectural appreciation or the nature of aestheticsuccess in architecture—is an absolutist doctrine. All elementsof the built environment—and much else besides—must countas architectural objects, or else the view fails.
The metaphysics of architecture covers a surprising range ofquestions for those who see in architecture no more thanmetaphysically mundane built structures or stones, wood, metal, andconcrete arranged in a pleasing fashion: the nature of architecturalobjects and their properties and types, the relations of architecturalparts and wholes, and the prospect of architectural causality.
Given the familiarity of architecture in, and as constitutive of,our physical surroundings, it is strongly intuitive to think ofarchitectural objects simply as buildings, in the way we think of theobjects of the sculpture artform as sculptures, or the objects ofcutlery as forks, knives, and spoons. Yet such intuitions may bemisguided. For one, though some built structures—includingroadways, bazaars, and newspaper kiosks—are not buildingsper se, we may take them to have architectural properties andthereby consider them as architectural objects. For another, theoutputs of architecture are not limited to built structures butinclude as well models, sketches, and plans, and this variety promptsquestions as to whether these are all reasonably consideredarchitectural objects and which, if any, such form of outputrepresents a primary sort of object in architecture. A thirdconsideration is the focus in architecture, not solely on whole orindividual buildings, but also on parts of buildings and buildingsconsidered in context, among other buildings and in landscapes(downwards and upwards compositionality or modularity). A fourthconsideration is that—as with music and photography—wheremultiple instantiations of a given work are possible, we may disputewhether the work is identical to the instancing built objects or elseto the common entity (e.g., plan) on which those instances aremodeled. In addition to such challenges, the intuitive view must bestalternative views.
Instantiating architectural objects. To addressone sort of question about the identity of an architectural object, weseekkind-wise criteria that establish when an object isarchitectural, instead of being non-architectural altogetheror only derivatively so. To address another sort of identity question,we look forinstance-wise criteria that establish when anobject is this or that singular object, or an instance of a multipleobject. Ready criteria for identifying object instances inarchitecture include historical, environmental, stylistic, and formalfeatures—all of which may be read as signaling intentions todesign particular, self-contained architectural objects. One issue,however, is whether traditional criteria (or others as may be posed)are sufficiently specific so as to skirt vagueness problems that allsuch artifacts may face (Thomasson 2005) and provide markers of beingabona fide instance of a multiple work or a replica of allotherbona fide instances (Goodman 1968/1976).
Architectural objects as ontologicallydistinctive. Yet another way to pick out architecturalobjects is to set them apart from other art objects or artifacts.Assuming there is more than one art ontology (seeLivingston 2013), we might look to define a distinctive architecturalontology by reference to specifically architectural qualities, such as“mass” (degrees of heaviness and lightness) ordirectedness (in circulatory pathways); or utility considerations,such as functional design, use, and change; or everyday artifactualfeatures. An inclusivist may add features special to the builtenvironment beyond the realm of buildings.
Kinds of architectural ontologies.Architecture’s distinctive qualities may help sort amongcandidate ontologies. One option is concretism, which—in keepingwith standard causal efficacy claims and expressed intentions ofarchitects, clients, and users—suggests that architecturalobjects are either built structures or, on one variant, otherwisephysically instantiated designs for such structures (such asmodels). Concretism is supported by an artifactual ontology thatsubsumes architectural objects into the class of objects that are theproduct of intentions, designs, and choices (on the view thatall art objects are best so understood, see Dutton 1979,S. Davies 1991, Thomasson 1999, and Levinson 2007.) One version ofarchitectural artifactualism identifies buildings as systems (Handler1970). As against concretism, intentionality may be the mark ofmaterially constituted, designed architectural objects but that neednot commit us to their existence alone or their primacy among suchobjects. Moreover, taking intentions as determinative leaves theconcretist with the problem of shifting intentions and unintendedgoals attached to built structures over time.
Abstractist alternatives follow a well-worn path in aesthetics(Kivy 1983; Dodd 2007; critics include S. Davies 1991; Trivedi 2002;Kania 2008; D. Davies 2009) and accommodate an expansive architecturaldomain that includes historical, fantasy, and unbuilt works. Perclassic Platonism, abstractism allows identification of anarchitectural object and concrete counterparts—includingmultiple replicas—by reference to a single, fixed, andunchanging background source of what real world structures (or fantasystructures) are and should look like.
Against abstractism, some architectural objects are apparentlysingular because historically and geographically contingent (Ingarden1962); it is unclear what an experiential account ofarchitectural abstracta looks like; and abstracta are not createdwhereas architectural objects are. De Clercq (2012) further proposesthat, even if there were abstract architectural objects, wedon’t refer to them. If I refer to “10 DowningStreet”, my expression picks out the built structure, not theplan, nor any other abstract representation or entity to which thebuilt structure at 10 Downing Street corresponds. However, a plausiblealternate interpretation of the referent is as “the abstractobject physically instantiated by the structure I am perceiving (orhave perceived)”.
As an alternative to an abstractist-concretist divide, a pluralistontology (per Danto 1993), allows “materialbases” and “aesthetic ideas” as different sorts ofarchitectural objects. Goodman’s account (1968/1976) lendsitself to a pluralist, or at least aspectual, reading. He suggeststhat, but for certain conditions unmet, an architectural object couldbe identified as those structures that perfectly realize acorresponding plan or other suitable architectural notation (see §4). On his nominalist view, theobjects turn out to be the built structures but an available realistinterpretation—which may better accommodate the multiples thatare key to his story—takes the objects to be the class of suchstructures.
Another alternative suggests that architecture consists in actionsor performances (per Currie 1989; D. Davies 2004), renderingderivative any concrete structures or “traditional”abstract entities. Lopes (2007) proposes the possibility of an eventsor temporal parts ontology for a kind of built structure that passesin and out of existence, though De Clercq (2008, 2012) counters thatsuch can be rendered in a material objects ontology through temporalindexing. Yet other ontologies are contextual or socialconstructivist, proposing that architectural objects exist, beyondtheir status as structured materials, in virtue of ways our reality isframed, psychologically, socially, or culturally (perHartmann 1953, Margolis 1958). A shift in any such frame may bringabout shifting identity in an architectural object, in the manner ofBorgesian art indiscernibles (Danto 1964), and it may count in favor ofthose ontologies that architectural indiscernibles are all around, inthe form of repurposed built structures.
Picking an ontology has wide-ranging significance, relative toquestions of material constitution, composition, part-whole relations,properties, and relations in architecture, as well as the character ofarchitectural notation, language, cognition, or behavior; there arealso ramifications for simplicity and complexity, and the nature ofornament, proportion, context, and style. In architectural practice,the ontology of choice also colors perspectives on such matters asintellectual property rights, collaborative work, and preservation ofarchitectural structures.
On one customary view of architectural objects, individual builtstructures (or their abstract counterparts) represent the primary unitof our aesthetic or, for that matter, any architectural, concern; allother ways of carving up the architectural world are derivative. Thisview is consonant with an equally customary perspective identifyingarchitectural objects with architectural works. Alternative viewsinclude a “mereology”, in which parts of built structures(or their abstract counterparts) constitute independent architecturalobjects; and an environmental contextualism, in which collections ofbuilt structures (or their abstract counterparts) constituteindependent objects. Both alternatives share a commitment to some formof compositionality among architectural objects, that putting bitstogether yields aesthetically meaningful and utility-bearingcomposites, and taking them apart yields like results. In this, themereological view represents adownward-compositionalism,suggesting that architectural aesthetics demands our focus onstructural or other elements that can be meaningfullydistinguished. Environmental contextualism represents anupward-compositionalism, suggesting that architecturalaesthetics cannot be pursued entirely separately from the aestheticsof cities or towns (per Scruton 1979/2013).
Questions about causality may seem out of place in discussions ofimmobile objects, such as most architecture represents. Yetarchitectural objects appear to have a role in causing events tohappen or other things to come into being. For example,socio-psychological evidence suggests that architectural objects causebehavior, and much of architectural design is predicated on thisclaim. A further question is whether one architectural object may“cause” another. Thus, the presence of one or morearchitectural objects might have a causal effect on the genesis orcharacter of one or more further works by dint of social utility,planning needs, or aesthetic drivers. If true, then—as withconsequentialism in ethics—further questions arise regarding therange of causal possibilities. Where ethicists ask whether a bad maygenerate a good, we may ask whether the presence or construction of afunctionally or aesthetically impoverished architectural object mightoccasion the presence or construction of a more useful or pleasingarchitectural object.
The notion that there is or should be an architecturallanguage—or more than one—has a provenance dating toancient times. In classic form, the architecture-as-language thesisruns from the Vitruvian suggestion that the orders present rules forcombination and ordering of architectural parts, throughAlberti’s rhetoric-inspired model for architectural description(van Eck 2000), and an analogy common among Renaissance and earlymodern authors (such as Wren) of architectural rules and expressivecapacity with the Latin language. Lavin (1992) suggests thatQuatremère de Quincy (1803) develops the thesis, from atraditional view of the classical orders as grammatical buildingblocks directly representing primitive structures, to a modern view ofstructural elements broadly representing social and moral ideas andprinciples. Variations of the thesis range over elements of anarchitectural language, how it may be used, and from whence it may bederived.
The core idea, in its most prominent form, is that architecture asa corpus of design ideas (realized or otherwise) features a set offundamental design and style elements which can be combined andrelated according to a set of rules (syntax), capable of constitutingor parlaying meaning (semantics), and subject to contextualsensitivity and internal or relational constraints on deployment andrealization (pragmatics). Beyond these structural parallels with basicfacets of natural language, it is held that the purposes andpossibilities of architecturequa language yield furtherparallels, best explained by the notion that architecture has, or evenis, a language.
Proponents of such views tend to subscribe, however, to defensesrooted in one or another feature of language. Onsyntactically-inspired views—the perspectives most indebted tothe Vitruvian account—there is at least one architecturalgrammar or set of rules for guiding proper assemblage of parts andorientation, relation, and combination of whole architecturalobjects. Some late twentieth century architectural theory embraced agrammar framework (Alexander et al. 1977; Hillier and Hanson 1984);such a view also underwrites a formalist vision for CAAD (Mitchell1990). Adherents of theview (Summerson 1966) assign themselves the central task ofidentifying such rules. Even if this is achieved, though, a greaterpuzzle is whether there are identifiablypreferablesyntaxes—and what the criteria should look like.
On a semantics-inspired view, architectural objects or theircomponent parts bear meanings. A primary motivation for this view isthat, like objects of other artforms, architectural objects areexpressive, which suggests that what they express is meaning (Donougho1987). Proponents point to an array of architectural meanings,internal or external to the object. The former tells us somethingabout the architectural object (its function or internal composition)or how it relates to other architectural objects (stylisticconventions); the latter tells us something about the world, as forexample, national or cultural associations (pergeographically variant design vocabularies), theological or spiritualsignificance (per religious design vocabularies), orper Hegel (1826), the Absolute Spirit. A more ambitiousproposal (Baird 1969) has it that architectural objects exhibit suchsemantic phenomena as metaphor, metonymy, or ambiguity.
Goodman (1985) proposes that buildings have meaning in that theyfunction symbolically relative to properties, feelings, or ideas,sometimes through “standard” denotation, as whenrepresenting symbolically (whether as building part or whole) someother object in the world. Primarily, though, buildings functionsymbolically through exemplification (literal or explicit denotation)or expression (metaphorical exemplification) of properties of ideas,sentiments, or objects in the world. Buildings only constitutearchitectureper se, in Goodman’s view, if they bearmeaning in one or more of these ways. While Goodman may haveidentified a denotative role for buildings, this is not clearly asemantic role.
A third approach, rooted in semiotics, emphasizes the role ofarchitectural objects as signs that prompt spectator behavior (Koenig1964, 1970) or indicate aspects of themselves, such as function (Eco1968). In either case, architectural objects are taken to operateas communicative systems (Donougho 1987). A semiotics program wasembraced by the late 20th century postmodernist movement inarchitecture (Venturi, Scott Brown, and Izenour, 1972/1977; Jencks1977).
The architectural language thesis, in its various forms, is widelydiscredited in recent philosophy of architecture. To begin with,architecture features some qualities and exhibits some phenomenaresembling those of natural language, but the parallels are neithercomprehensive nor fully compelling. On the syntactic side,architecture may feature some brand of compositionality but differentparts of architectural objects do not appear to function as do phrasesor clauses (Donougho 1987). Syntactic “wholes” do nobetter, as there are no architectural assertions (Scruton1979/2013). As regards semantics, no likely candidate for anarchitectural vocabulary regularly yields any specific class orinstance of meaning. Whereas for Vitruvius the Ionic order connotesfemale sensibility, it has a scholarly or deliberative meaning forRenaissance architects, “gravitas” for Blondel(1675–1683), and good governance for the architects of NewYork’s City Hall. Nor are there truth conditions such as mightsupply the meaning of a well-defined architectural sequence (Taurens2008). It’s not even clear that architectural communication isbest understood assequential; Langer (1967), for example,suggests that the symbolic communication of architectural objects isinstead holistic. As for pragmatics, there is no clear parallel withimplicature or related phenomena, hence architecture is incapable ofthe accuracy or concision of expression we associate with language(Clarke and Crossley 2000). Finally, relative to semiotics, notall—or even many—buildings signify and we would onlywant some to do so.
On the bright side, it’s not clear that we should wantarchitecture to be more language-like. Regarding semantics, whateverwe gain in fixing particular meanings to architectural objects, westand to lose in fungibility of their forms. Regarding syntax,adherence to grammars brings the utility of standards and,per Scruton and Harries, a template for the community’svoice—but for some may represent stifling constraints on theaesthetic imagination.
In the end, it is useful to ask what work we expect thearchitecture-as-language thesis to do. One view (Alexander etal. 1977; Alexander 1979) takes the thesis to underscore the robustnature of design patterns and known design solutions and, for a givenculture, a common vocabulary (Donougho 1987). However, it may besufficient to highlight ways in which architecture islike alanguage, though they do not add up to an architectural language(Forty 2000). If so, then the thesis works best as a powerful metaphorrather than as literal truth.
An alternate take on linguistic phenomena in architecture appearsin Goodman’s proposal (1968) that we think of notational systemsor schemes for the arts as symbolic systems with potentiallylanguage-like features. Goodman suggests that architecture is aborderline case of anallographic artform, as its notationalschemes—in the form of plans—are intended to guaranteethat all objects as are compliant are genuine instances of thework. (Said intention, Goodman proposes, is not fulfilled.) That anobject instance the work just when compliant with the notation wouldindicate the notation’s satisfaction of syntactic and semanticcriteria providing requisite grounds for identity across instances,and signal a corresponding insignificance of historical context andconditions of production to the object’s identity. Goodman, forhis part, balks at taking architecture to be truly allographic giventhe core role of history and context in generating particularstructures, and notational ambiguity that marks the analog medium oftraditional plans. Digital design may well resolve the ambiguityproblem, however, and allow indexing for history and context,rendering architecture allographicper Goodmanian criteria(S. Fisher 2000b). The term“architectural language” then takes on adifferent—and more plausible—sense.
In its most general sense, formalism works in architecture as itdoes (or doesn’t) in other artforms. Thus, architecturalformalism suggests that the sum total of aesthetic properties of anarchitectural object are or arise from formal properties, such thatour aesthetic judgments are warranted based on experience andassessment of just those properties. As architectural objects aretypically non-representational and designed with manipulation andrelation of forms as a primary task, it is natural that their formalproperties be seen as playing a central role in our aestheticappreciation of them. The question posed to the traditional(“hard”) formalist is whether those properties areunique or at least dominant drivers of aesthetic propertiesand judgment, a question underlined by important roles of history,styles, and other contexts in our grasp of the architecturalenterprise and individual architectural objects. Our aestheticjudgment of I. M. Pei’s Louvre Pyramids is surely to some degreein reaction to their “pure” form but—for the awarespectator—perhaps just as much in reaction to their relationshipto historical context (the Giza pyramids as emblematic of pyramidalform in architecture, and of monumental architecture altogether) orsetting (in contrast to the ornate neo-Baroque Louvre buildings thatsurround them, but in keeping with traditional French emphasis ongeometric form in design).
Variants of architectural formalism take formal properties as theproperties of (or arising from) the material or physical properties ofbuilt structures (as consonant with concretism), or as the propertiesof (or arising from) the total properties specified by a set of formalparameters we identify with the architectural object (as consonantwith abstractism). Further architectural strains are characterized bymoderation (per Zangwill 2001), suggesting that somearchitectural objects are best understood by appealing to their formalproperties, others not; or by assimilation of canonically non-formalproperties to a formalist scheme (in the manner of Levinson’s“indicated structures”; see S. Fisher 2000b); or by a“mereological” view wherein someparts of a givenarchitectural object may be best understood and judged by their formalproperties, others not. For the merelogico-formalist, it might countin favor of considering such parts as independent architecturalobjects that we can judge those parts on a formal basis alone.
Formalism appears in some traditional architectural theories as anormative practical or critical guideline, namely, that our bestdesign thinking takes as central an architectural object’sshape, color, and other formal elements. Other, non-formal aspects ofan architectural object are discounted as contributing to itssuccess. Mitrovic (2011, 2013) embraces a normative formalist approachto criticism, on the grounds that the deeply visual nature of muchcognition militates against basing appreciation or evaluation ofarchitectural objects exclusively or primarily on features weunderstand through non-visual means (such as context or historyprovide).
The anti-formalist traditionally focuses on the importance toaesthetic judgment about non-formal properties, including historicalcontext; other, categorial forms of context (Walton 1970); ornon-cognitive properties. As an architectural application would haveit, we likely judge Jefferson’s University of Virginia campus asstately or dignified or evocative of democratic ideals because of theneo-classical design, the campus’ place in histories of Americanarchitecture and university architecture, and its continuousrededication through the everyday functioning of an enduring, livinguniversity. None of this judgment appears to have particular roots informs Jefferson deployed, except as befit a neo-classicalstyle—which style may be best grasped in historicist terms.
Aside from historicism, a principal variant of architecturalanti-formalism derives from functional beauty theory, which has itsroots in (a) a late modern tradition of judging an object beautiful iffit for its intended function (Parsons and Carlson (2008) find thistradition in Berkeley'sAlciphron (1732) and Hume's relatedsuggestion (Treatise (1739-40)) that beauty of artifacts consists intheir appearing to bear utility), and (b) Kant’s proposal thatarchitecture is an artform capable of generating dependent beauty. (Inthe latter case, beauty stands in relation to concepts with which weassociate architectural objects, which for such objects are typicallythe ends towards which they are created.) One modern version proposesgauging the beauty of a designed object by reference todesigner’s intent in crafting a functional solution; forS. Davies (2006), where an object displays functional beauty,aesthetic considerations and the object’s primary function eachact to shape the other.Per Parsons and Carlson (2008), theproblem with such intentionalist accounts in architecture (orelsewhere where functional beauty pertains) is that functionschange. To work around this difficulty, they suggest, we needa theory focused on “proper functions” for the artifactsin question. This view is modeled on a selected effects account ofbiological functions, as translated into a marketplace-driven scheme,where evolution of design solutions is driven by demand over time.
Functional beauty faces several challenges. Even in their advocacy,Parsons and Carlson caution against the suggestion that functionsolely determines form, as that would neglect other featuresof artifacts not possibly highlighted by their functions. Suchfeatures include cultural significance oraspects ofnon-dependent beauty as may be found in, for example, architecturalornament. (In Davies’ picture, there is no such neglect becausethe functioning of artifacts—including art and architecturalobjects—may have a cultural, spiritual, or otherwisenon-mechanical cast.) In the architectural realm, another challenge isposed by ruins, which may be beautiful but have no functions. To thecharge that these represent counterexamples to functional beautytheory, one tack is to answer that if ruins represent architecturalobjects, they are dysfunctional and their beauty is manifest innon-functional ways (Parsons and Carlson). Functional beauty theory issaved on the whole but not as universally characteristic ofarchitectural objects.
A further challenge casts doubt on seeing functional beauty as theonly variant of dependent beauty, or beauty as the sole aestheticvalence of interest to a viable notion of dependent aestheticproperties. In an architectural vein, those variants may includespiritual, emotional, or conceptual frameworks we bring to our graspof such built structures as houses of worship, memorials, or triumphalarches. We can tell functional stories about these sorts of structuresin sociological or psychological analyses but not (or not only), asfunctional beauty accounts would have it, in terms of their mechanicalor system-wise functioning.
Looking beyond functional beauty—or more broadly, dependentbeauty—accounts of architecture, an inclusivist will seek thethread that ties together architectural objects with aestheticproperties of all description, be they functional, otherwisedependent, or freely (independently) endowed with beauty or other suchproperties. Thus, a modernist gas station and a Tschumifoliemay share an elegance unrelated to functional ascriptionorthe lack thereof. A general theory of architectural objects, alonginclusivist lines, suggests at least a moderate formalism.
A staple of philosophy of art is that our experience of artobjects—direct or otherwise—is central to basic beliefformation about them (first and foremost, aesthetic belief andappreciation of art objects). The philosophy of architecture isgenerally in agreement, though architectural objects may be of specialcharacter in this regard, as our experiences of them gives rise to orinfluences an extended range of psychological states. Beyond pleasurein architectural beauty or other “positive” aestheticproperties, experience of built structures also contributes to neutraland less positive states of mind, and shapes how we broadly take inour environment. A piece of that environmental understanding is localto the built structure itself: the ways we experience architecturalobjects may contribute to how we comprehend, and interact with, thoseobjects.
In addition to facilitating understanding, appreciation, or use ofarchitectural objects, experience might also play—orreflect—a constitutive role. On Scruton’s view, experienceconstitutes for us the architectural object as anaestheticobject (1979/2013). For Ingarden (1962), architectural experienceentails not only our cognitive grasp of the built structure’sphysicality but as well our grasp of its designation as a specificallyarchitectural object rather than, say, as an arrangement ofbricks that happens to have the structure of a house.
The content and corresponding faculties of architectural experiencelikely include some mix of the cognitive, emotive, and sensual.Whereas an abstractist may claim that experience of architecturalobjects is solely a matter of intellectual grasp, even ananti-abstractist formalist needs the sensory as well to account forexperience of concrete shapes. Abstractist intellectualismnotwithstanding, accounts of architectural experience typically focuson multiple content modalities. Sauchelli (2012a) proposes the use ofcognition in grasping pleasure (“intellectual pleasure”)as a central feature of architectural experience. The idea is thatfully comprehending the pleasure of the experience and therebyestablishing its aesthetic value requires cognition, in the form ofattention to details and understanding of the architecturalobject.
A blend of the cognitive and sensual is also characteristic ofScruton’s proposed “imaginativeperception”—the notion that wemay perceive thedetails of built structures in various ways, depending on directionsthat our imagination takes us. Scruton (1979/2013) takes thiscognitive act—reminiscent of seeing-as and free play of theimagination—as crucial to architectural experience. We are atall turns required to make interpretative choices in parsing ambiguousor multiform aspects of the built environment. Scruton focuses onvoluntary deployment of the imagination in perception at amacro-level, concerning such matters as whether we see a sequence ofcolumns as grouped one way or another, or see pilasters as ornamentalor structural. The voluntary aspect of this account is critical toScruton’s emphasis on the importance of taste and discriminationto architectural aesthetics. In this, he loosely tracks GeoffreyScott’s view of architectural experience as “sensuousperception” interpreted through attendant values(1914/1924).
A generalized version of this account looks to perceptual tasks ata more granular level. Our experiences of space and spatialpositioning, depth, edge detection, color, and light yield multipleinterpretative possibilities across architectural objects, includingthe simplest forms and smallest or largest parts of objects. Theseperceptual tasks are pervasive and constant; sometimes involuntary andin the background, and other times as shaped by our willfulimagining. If the involuntary tasks also represent or shapeinterpretative acts, architectural experience by Scruton’smeasure is that much less subject to aesthetic taste ordiscrimination.
The dimensions of architectural experience are even larger whentaking into account the full breadth of the sensual. Following a longtradition of viewing architecture through art historical lenses,Scruton focuses on architectural experience as primarily visual andstatic. In addition, though, other sensory modalities are factors:changes in aesthetic judgments follow changes in those other sensoryexperiences (Sauchelli 2012a). Such modalities among the non-visualinclude the tactile, aural, and olfactory. Moreover, mucharchitectural experience is proprioceptive, incorporating visualinformation into a broader set of stimuli to grasp bodily position andmovement in relation to the built environment.
Sensation of movement might seem irrelevant to experiencing animmobile object, save for the fact that, in architecture (as insculpture) not all facets of a given whole work, or many otherarchitectural objects, can be perceived at the same time. Thespectator or user must move around or within the object to perceiveany significant percentage of it, much less the whole. Experience ofmovement around architectural objects highlights for us the designfeature of circulatory paths and contributes to grasping anobject’s formal features (such as rhythm in spatial patterns)and perhaps, at least derivatively, its aesthetic features (such assomberness) (Sauchelli 2012a; Rasmussen 1959). These aspects ofarchitectural experience capture the immersive nature of aspectator’s or user’s relationship to a builtstructure. Further aspects of our experience may capture thearchitectural object’s immersion inits largerenvironment and surroundings, its “localized nature” orcontext and “sense of location” (Carlson 1994). Asarchitectural objects standardly shape our actual, imagined, orremembered bodily engagement, so are our richest experiences ofarchitecture informed by such engagement (J. Robinson 2012).
Central as bodily experience may be, it cannot be the only sourceof architectural beliefs. Considering the great breadth of thearchitectural enterprise, it may not even be the best source. Othersources include access to beliefs about works through standardrepresentational modes that are not the works themselves, transmissionof tacit working knowledge through apprenticeship learning, andcollective belief formation through client briefings and studio groupcritical assessment (“crits”). On these and other bases anarchitectural knowledge of special character is built.
Knowledge of a building or other architectural objects followswell-worn paths in some aspects of general knowledge of art. Inparticular, architectural beliefs encompass judgments of aestheticproperties of the built environment, are norm-governed in somefashion, and may be transmissible via testimony. Yet other aspects ofknowing architectural objects diverge from the well-worn path, asreflective of special characteristics of the architectural enterpriseand its products and consumption.
One traditional division of architectural knowledge promoted byarchitectural historians, theorists, and practitioners—andfocusing squarely on creator’s knowledge—has it that thereare two basic kinds: the theoretical/historical and the practical(J. W. Robinson 2001).Theoretical andhistoricalbrands of architectural knowledge encompass viable beliefs aboutfamiliar core concerns of architecture, including basic designelements of the built environment; their combinations, relations, andproperties; their style; external factors (social, economic, cultural,etc.) which shape design; and historical contexts into which theyfit. Some such beliefs are empirically supported; othersnot.Practical brands of architectural knowledge encompassviable beliefs about the engineering and technical means ofconstructing architectural objects, ensuring structural integrity, andguaranteeing mechanical function, socially, industrially, orecologically beneficial use. Such beliefs—particularly ashitched to formalized, experimental, or predictive dimensions of theenterprise—are sometimes seen as constituting anarchitectural science. They are typically (though notexclusively) empirical in character and, to some tastes, relegated toa status ofadjunct architectural knowledge, that is, usefulfor architecture but outside the domain proper. What counts aspractical knowledge in architecture is often seen as encompassingbeliefs of a largely non-aesthetic nature.
Yet other categories reflect a range of types and sources ofarchitectural knowledge. Another division distinguishes betweenarchitectural beliefs associated with creators and users. Myexperience of a built structurequa creator is perforcedifferent than my experience of the same structurequa user,and the sorts of beliefs I arrive at may differ accordingly. Asarchitect, Jones believes that an arch of one design but not anotherwill keep the bridge up; as someone strolling underneath the bridge,Smith believes that an arch of a different design would have been agreater aesthetic success. This much accords with other artformsfeaturing practical functions. Further, architectural beliefs maydiffer by their technical or non-technical nature; by perspective androle of the belief-holder; or by facts about physical experience ofthe work or other modalities of belief acquisition.
Architectural knowledge in broader context. To seehow architectural knowledge may be similar to, or differ from,aesthetic knowledge generally, consider two dimensions of aestheticknowledge, knowingthrough art and knowingabout art(Kieran and Lopes 2006). As concerns knowingthrougharchitecture, cognitive content arises in reflecting—to varyingdegrees—taste and style sensibilities of its creators,structural propertiesper engineering principles deployed;and cultural and social values of historical, communal, and economiccontexts. To know a built structure in this regard is to know suchmatters as the tradition in which it is built; design aspirations ofthe architect and initial occupants; and intentions relative tocontributing to the built or natural landscape. The success of thisthesis is predicated on successful communication through architecturalobjects, whether as symbols or otherwise.
Architectural belief and knowledge have as well wholly distinctivefeatures, reflective of special characteristics of the domain, itspractice, and its objects. These include:
Beliefs about systems.Architectural objects (as wholes)are systems or system-like, in that they constitute sets ofinterrelated structural components, with characteristic behavior orprocesses yielding outputs from inputs, and where the parts areconnected by distinctive structural and behavioral relations (Boyce1969). That we take whole architectural objects to be (or to berepresented as) systems or system-like suggests how architecturalbeliefs are distinctive among beliefs about artworks. In particular,we have beliefs about architectural objects that reflect functions andinteractions of (1) components individually and as parts of systemicwholes, (2) systems as parts of broader environmental contexts, and(3) persons’ behaviors within the systems. Whereas the firsttwo functional and interactional features are typical to all design,the third feature marks architecture as an artform that, in providingan immersive and systemic physical environment, intensely draws on andshapes social, psychological, and economic features of experience. Ourbeliefs about architectural objects and interactions with and in themare shaped correspondingly, in ways that do not arise in engagementwith other artforms.
Partial and full information. Representation inarchitecture encompasses multiple modes, including built objects,physical models, virtual models, data arrays, plans, sketches,photographs, and drawings. Each such mode may beviable asrepresenting an architectural object just in casesomefeatures of the object are adequately, accurately, regularly, andoptimally represented through the mode. This view of viablerepresentation in architecture is at odds with the standards for suchin other artforms. Consider a representation of the Mona Lisa. If youdo not have complete visual access through the representation (fromany acceptable angle) to the full tableau, you may be said to lackfull acquaintance with the work through the representation, and yourconsequent aesthetic beliefs about the Mona Lisa may be discountedaccordingly. By contrast, if architectural beliefs required anythinglikefull acquaintance with the object orfullyinformed testimony to be viable, our architectural beliefs wouldnot typically or frequently be viable. Rare is the case whereacquaintance is full or testimony fully informed—even amongthose whom we might expect to have the greatest acquaintance, such asa built structure’s architect or developer.
Socially constructed knowledge. In architecture, as inother design fields, design problems are not thoroughly or fullyarticulated all at once or by any particular individual. The primarycomponents of design knowledge—problems and their possiblesolutions—are instead distributed across persons. This factabout architectural production—and, to a degree, itsuse—suggests that beliefs we form about architectural objectsare formed amidst, and influenced by, such social relations (see §8.1). Art and architecture worldsper se are undoubtedly not a sole source of epistemicnorms. Yet social relations and circumstances amongarchitecture’s stakeholders present constitutive conditions fora wide swath of architectural beliefs, suggesting at least a moderatesocial constructivism.
It may be thought that qualities of architecture such assystematicity and the deeply social character of the discipline areimmaterial toaesthetic beliefs. However, architecture is aholistic enterprise: a design decision to cantilever a terrace is atonce of aesthetic and engineering significance. In like fashion, thatarchitectural objects constitute systems is pertinent in shapingaesthetic beliefs because there are more and less attractive ways toshape the flow of persons, or even electricity, through a builtstructure. And that architectural objects are designed through socialprocesses has import for corresponding aesthetic beliefs. For example,aesthetic properties of a given design are subject to crits, the verypurpose of which is to influence the creator’s further aestheticbeliefs about the same design.
As distinct from mereexperience of architectural objects,appreciation of architectural objects brings to bearcognition and other inputs, such as history and context. Appreciationgoes beyondknowledge, too, insofar as we may know anarchitectural object and its qualities without appreciating it. Thus,Winters (2007) proposes that appreciating architecture consists inenjoyment of architectural objects (from experience,toutcourt), as wed tounderstanding them, where the latterconsists in grasping their aesthetic significance in specificallyvisual fashion, and critically assessing the judgment of architects inaddressing design challenges. Architectural appreciation may be builton the judgment of others; it is essential torenderingjudgment. Accordingly, learning to appreciate architectural objects isa cornerstone of architectural education. A key contributing featurein this last regard is acquiring agility with classifying in thedomain (Leder et al. 2004).
The appreciation and judgment of architectural objects aretypically thought to reflect aestheticand utility-wiseconsiderations, and engage individual perspective, experience,reasoning, and reflection such as we associate with appreciating andjudging in other artforms. Drivers in appreciation and judgmentspecial to architecture include social framing andenvironmental psychological factors that are a consequence ofarchitecture’s intensely public nature.
Exceptionalism. One question regardingappreciation is whether there is a special mode attached toarchitectural objects. We might think this is so given that, unlikemost arts (though very like other design forms), appreciation inarchitecture is aestheticand utility-oriented. A resultingpuzzle is whether, and under what circumstances, we might have onewithout the other. We might think as much if, say, it is possible toappreciate the Roman Coliseum’s stately and antique featureswithout any appreciation of its intended function or actual use. Onthe other hand, a view of appreciation embracing functional beautytheory may suggest that the Coliseum’s functional and freebeauty are on at least equal footing—or that theColiseum’s stately aesthetic and its role as amphitheater forstaging spectacles (for example) cannot be separated altogether.
Further questions regarding appreciation concern the relative rolesin appreciation of individual experience of architecture, as againstthe social or the environmental.
Individual Appreciation. The prevailingphilosophical view of architectural appreciation is a psychologicalaccount with debts to the Kantian tradition: direct, immediateaesthetic experiences of architectural objects among individualsconstitute the basis of appreciation. (Iseminger 1981 provides ageneral aesthetics account in this vein.) A primary variant has itthat architectural appreciation is the product of individual cognitionof the content, form, properties, and relations of architecturalobjects. A recent variation suggests that, in addition to (orinlieu of) cognitive response, physiological experience(proprioception) is a central source of beliefs associated witharchitectural appreciation. On either model, it is experience ofindividuals that feeds and influences appreciation.
Social and Environmental Role in ArchitecturalAppreciation. Direct, immediate individual experience is notthe only source of information shaping architecturalappreciation. Considering the breadth of the architectural enterprise,it may not even be the best source. Others include access toinformation about works through standard representational modes thatare not the works themselves (for example, drawings or photographs),transmission of tacit working knowledge through apprenticeshiplearning, and collective belief formation through client briefings andstudio crits.
Architectural appreciation issocial in building on ourunderstanding of architectural objects as it develops, and matures, inexperience of a built structure with and in relation to otherindividuals and groups of people. It is also social in that we learnmarkers of appreciation among those with whom we share suchexperiences or (per Scruton 1979/2013) imagine ourselves todo so. Indeed, a central goal of architectural education is structuredimparting of collective wisdom as to how to best classifyarchitectural objects and, relatedly, what the markers of appreciationhave looked like, or should look like—as well as how theyarticulate with practical knowledge.
Further, architectural appreciation isenvironmental inbuilding on our understanding of architectural objects based onexperiences in relation to their natural and built surroundings. Onone view, an architectural object may be more difficult to appreciateif we find that relation unexpected, or contrary to normativesensibility (Carlson 1999). If, however, appreciation does not requireenjoyment or satisfaction of any sort—and instead engages ourunderstanding of, for example, what was intended and why—we maywell appreciate in its own right an architectural object that has asurprising, even obnoxious relation to its surroundings.
Some problems of architectural ethics are characteristic of a rangeof typical moral dilemmas—agent-centered, norms-orientedconcerns—as may arise for architects. In addition to atraditional set of questions applied to the architectural domain,architectural ethics also addresses problems special to the disciplineand practice—as shaped by its social, public, practical, andartistic nature.
As conceptually prior to a normative ethics of architecturalpractice, a meta-ethics of architecture assesses alternate ethicalmodalities, such as whether architecture might be considered moral orimmoral relative to its objects (built structures) or to its practicesas a set of institutions or social phenomena. Another meta-ethicalissue concerns whether moralism or autonomism best characterizes therelationship of aesthetics to ethics, as that plays out inarchitecture.
Ethical modalities of architecture. There arethree typical candidate modalities of ethics in architecture. For one,there is the establishment of criteria for ethical norms of theenterprise such as architects in practice may observe. For example,architects can craft designs in ways that lower the likelihood of costoverruns and enhance safety. In an interpersonal vein, architects canrepresent their work honestly to clients or contractors. Anothermodality—beyond enterprise-defined ethical norms—ispursuit of criteria to gauge architects as moral agents broadlyproducing or doing good or bad in the world. For example, architectsmay create objects that uplift or constrain individual users andinhabitants; other architects may promote social utility by designinghousing for those in need of shelter. Finally, there is the modalityof seeking criteria to judge architectural objects as morally good orbad insofar as theydirectly produce pleasure or pain. As anindirect example, a hospital design is intended to facilitatethe minimizing of pain, by fostering environmental conditionsconducive to excellence in health care and patient well-being. As amore direct case, a bus shelter is intended to reduce exposure to theelements and corresponding discomfort. This last candidate may beattractive if we see architecture primarily as a product rather thanas a practice; it is noxious if we are unwilling to assign moralvalues to artifacts as we do to actions or their properties. A builtstructure might be inhumane in that it is bleak or uninhabitable,though it does not follow that the structure itself bears inhumanevalues.
Value Interaction. Vitruvian principles underlyingmuch of architectural theory suggest a tendency to link the aestheticand the utility-promoting. So, too, functional beauty theoryrecommends that aesthetic and ethical considerations are linked inarchitecture. To crystallize the matter, we may ask if it is possiblefor a built structure to be good though not aesthetically so. Thequestion as to how aesthetic and ethical value might be related is asubject of broader concern, with a “moralist” stance thatsays the two sorts of value are or should be connected (Carroll 1996,Gaut 1998) and an “autonomist” stance that takes the twoas (or better off as) independent (Anderson and Dean 1998, Kieran2001).
In this debate, architecture would seem a promising domain in whichto find robust relations. At a moralist extreme, there is thesuggestion—supported by some traditions in architectural theory(Pugin 1841, Ruskin 1849)—that aesthetic tasks in architecturesimplyare ethical tasks, reflecting ethical choices. Oneprominent moralist perspective locates the ethical element ofaesthetic architectural choice in obligations to a sort of honesty, indesigning works that accurately represent underlying structuralprinciples or operational capacities. Harries (1997) and Scruton(1979/2013) arrive at similar ethical commitments to architecturaldesign as expressive in a particular fashion, though of sharedcommunity values, rather than of function or structural features.From another angle, moralists point to the emotional impact of builtenvironments as indicative of a union of the aesthetically grippingand morally compelling (Ginsburg 1994), though it may be noted thateven where we detect such a union we need not judge the aesthetics ofthe architectural object on the basis of any ethical import socommunicated.
At the other extreme, autonomists propose that problems of ethicsand aesthetics neither need arise at once, nor need be resolved atonce, in architectural design. If we see a correlation in somearchitectural objects of ethically and aesthetically compelling designsolutions, we see in other objects no correlation at all. Thus, themodern city is replete with instances of built structures that arewell-functioning, high-utility, and facilitate much good in the worldyet meet no one’s standards of aesthetically worthy design.There is good reason to uncouple these values just in case theymust conflict. Suppose there is an ethical premium, forexample, on the need to create environmentally sustaining structures,and that we identify resolutions of that problem as generally bearingthe greatest mark of moral worth. Suppose further that crafting theoptimal moral solution (vis-à-vis the environment)always generates the most unattractive design—and that theinverse holds as well (the better the design aesthetically, the worsethe design for the environment). Then a connection between ethics andaesthetics in architecture seems improbable.
A third position altogether proposes a pluralism. Sometimes ethicaland aesthetic value march hand-in-hand, other times not—andtheir ways of matching up are diverse and run in variousdirections. So one architectural design may be aestheticallycompelling as it reflects its ethically upstanding character, whereasanother design may be aesthetically compelling as it reflects itsethically deficient character. What is required for cases of this lastsort is that the evaluator can identify the aesthetic success asgrounded,per functional beauty theory, in effectiveexpression of the structure’s ethically deficient function(Sauchelli 2012b). An even more generalized pluralism would suggestthat a wide range of aesthetic and ethical valences can be matched upin different ways; we might value a war memorial for the way it grimlyexpresses the horrors of war.
Traditional questions of architectural ethics. Onereason that architectural ethics is central to philosophy ofarchitecture is that architects’ actions bear great influenceover other people’s moral lives. Architects design structuresand environments for people, with concomitant effects on personalbehavior, capacity to choose courses of action, and ability to satisfypreferences, visit harm, generate benefit, or exercise rights. Asarchitects’ acts shape spaces, boundaries, and pathways thatstructure individual behaviors and social acts, they prompt normativeethical exploration along traditional lines.
To begin with, a traditional architectural ethics requires anaccount of architecturalresponsibilities.Any such accountshould outline architects’ obligations to other persons, ethicalstandards on which such obligations may be based, how to ensure suchstandards might be met, and any other sorts of obligations architectsmight have, as for example, to historic preservation or environmentalprotection. As concerns obligations to persons, the range ofstakeholders in architecture is great, hence ethical responsibility isdiffuse.
A further set of questions concernsrights. It isrelatively novel to speak of authorial or community rights inarchitecture; owner or client rights are historically parasitic onproperty or sovereign rights. Other possibilities include rights ofdevelopers, builders, engineers, environments, and societies. As thatlist grows, two further questions concern the sorts of rights that canbe attributed to such parties or entities, and the criteria fordistributing and prioritizing them given aesthetic as well as moralconsiderations.
Architecturalutility is familiar as a Vitruvian conceptbut has a wholly other sense in an agent-centered normative ethics,with a possible moral weighting not found in classic architecturaltheory.Guidelines are needed to determine the usefulness ofarchitectural goods such as built structures, restorations,reconstructions, or plans. These might include their social character,or individual preferences of the architect, owner, end-users, orpublic. A utilitarian approach to architectural ethics is attractivein capturing the aims of architecture to promote well-being, andrelying on a ready marker of architectural value. However, it alsodiscounts other traditional architectural imperatives such as aVitruvian-style pluralist may honor, including beauty and structuralintegrity (Spector 2001).
Finally, a traditionalist picture of architectural ethics requiresan account ofvirtues in the domain (though these may beorthogonal to normative ethics). Here is potential consonance with theVitruvian tradition (and similarly virtue-oriented non-Westerntraditions)—if we see the “good”, morally educatedarchitect’s virtue and character as our best guarantee of properand productive weighting of values under differing circumstances(Spector 2001).
Future-Focused Architectural Ethics. The focus ofethical rights and responsibilities in architecture is typically takenas relative to present or past. Thus, we speak of obligations todesign and build in ethically responsible fashion, or preserve pastarchitectural objects. There are future-focused obligations, aswell. Sustainable design is forward-looking even as it is centered onwhat we design and build today. Further ethical issues may ariserelative to future architectural objects. As to obligations to futurearchitecturalobjects, we see as much in the short-terminstance of planning around near-future buildings. More puzzling iswhether we might have “long-haul” future-facingobligations—apart from utility or prudentialconsiderations—in planning, for example, new cities oraccommodations to climate change.
Special ethical questions of architecture.Architectural practice generates special moral issues as befit itsproper, idiosyncratic features, distinctive among the arts, theprofessions, and social practices. Most notably, an array of ethicalissues of social import arises from architecture’s commitmentsto creation of a socially beneficial and functional art. Such issuesinclude the nature of “better” housing (and under varyingconditions), what (if anything) makes housing an obligation, and waysthat such an obligation may accrue to, or be satisfied by,architects. Yet other ethical issues special to architecture rangeover matters of personal and social spaces and the articulationsthereof, including criteria for designing around concerns related toprivacy, accessibility (for the public generally and handicapped inparticular), respecting community and neighborly preferences, andpromoting civic values.
Other ethical matters special to architecture are particularlyvisible in global perspective. For example, there is inequitabledistribution of housing across the developed and developing nations,and part of the solution may be architectural (Caicco 2005). Further,architecture incurs special environmental obligations given that wasteand degradation affect, and are affected by, architectural design. Oneconceptual challenge of sustainability facing architects is todetermine whether development is, in principle, a countervailinginterest. This is to ask, once environmental obligations are defined,how they may be factored into or weighed against infrastructural anddesign interests and preferences.
Professional Ethics. Architectural professionalethics focuses on architects’ moral choices in the context ofpractice (Wasserman, Sullivan, and Palermo 2000; T. Fisher2010). Professional ethical codes govern conduct in (and therebyprotect) the architectural profession and avert problems related tobusiness, fiduciary, insurance, or liability functions; the designfunction is an ethical focus relative to disability. Architectural lawhighlights professional ethics matters as concern property, liability,and honesty. The law clarifies responsibilities among parties toarchitectural practice; defines who or what in commercialarchitectural interactions has moral agency—hence rights; anddescribes utility-wise or financial measures of distribution inarchitecture. Legal regulations and judgments prompt conceptualquestions regarding such issues as intellectual property inarchitecture, architects as arbitrators, and architects’responsibilities to others (S. Fisher 2000a).
Intellectual Property. One conceptual issue concerningarchitectural intellectual property is how such rights are to beweighed against other sorts of property rights, such as domestic orcommercial rights. A further issue is determined on the basis ofjudging architecture to be a service or product. Taking architectureasservice means that architects do not have a stake oncopyright, as they would then be creators-by-contract; tradition hasit that rights to expression of ideas so created accrue to thecontracting party. Taking architecture asproduct supportsarchitects’ claim to copyright, given that expression is theircreation—whatever services are performed (Greenstreet 1998;Cushman and Hedemann 1995). Copyright raises other concerns. Even asthe law may license creation of an architectural object reflectingcore design aspects found in another object created by a differentarchitect, we may find morally blameworthy any cognizant“borrowing” without attribution orpermission. Alternatively, we might view this as a routine episode inthe history of architectural copying without attribution orpermission. The challenge is to define relevant obligations of onearchitect to others, present or past.
Architect as judge in owner-contractor disputes.Architects have a dual role, serving as designer and administrator ofarchitectural projects, and in this capacity may adjudicate betweenowner and contractor in matters of dispute. Standard issues concernconflicts of interest, grounds for adjudication, and criteria offairness. Ethical issues of a particularlyarchitecturalstripe include the degree to which specifications are poorly satisfiedsuch as warrants reckoning; maintenance of fealty to owners’interests alongside fairness to contractors and to satisfactoryrealization of one’s own design; and identification of virtuesappropriate to judgment in design-related disputes, along with facetsof being an architect that promote (or limit) such virtues.
Responsibility to others’ design. Architecturalobjects often develop over time in cumulative and mutable fashion,through additions and alterations that—perhaps more frequentlythan not—change the design of a different, original architect(or that of a prior alteration). For any particular changes, or inconsideration of design changes overall, we may stipulate obligationsto respect original or prior intent and execution. One brand of suchobligations, recognized in historic preservation and landmark laws,requires that aesthetic concerns in the public interest trump privateinterests. Key conceptual questions concern how to determine thesource and conditions of any such obligations—and the sorts ofresponsibilities architects should have to existing structures. Thoseresponsibilities may extend to commitment to the integrity of work byfellow architects.
While all artforms admit of a certain social character,architecture enjoys a particularly social nature, and may even be saidto be anintrinsically social artform. There are twoprominent candidate reasons as to why this is so. For one, a centralaim of architecture is to design shelter and so meet a variety ofsocial needs. For another, architecture as practice is a socialprocess or activity as it engages people in interpersonal relations ofa social cast.
The first candidate reason stands or falls on whether, infulfilling social needs, architecture is thereby rendered a socialart. For an artform to be intrinsically social, any such needfulfilled should be critical rather than discretionary orextravagant. Thus, for example, addressing housing demands overallmeets the criticality test—though addressing design demands fora third home does not. The first reason looks right because architectsoften integrate social needs into design thinking. Armed with sociallyminded intentions, they create built structures which serve myriadsocial ends. A difficulty arises, however, in consistently upholdingsuch intentions as a mark of the social if (a) such intentions areunclear from experiencing architectural objects, instantiations, orrepresentations thereof, (b) built structures are repurposed, or (c)there are architectural objects with no corresponding relevantintentions. (As an instance, we might consider “found”architectural objects like inhabited caves.)
A second candidate reason that architecture is a social art is thatprocesses of making architecture are thoroughly and ineluctably socialphenomena, constituted by interactions of social groupings created andgoverned by social conventions and arrangements. On this view, thesocial nature of architecture consists in the status of the disciplineas shaped by social convention—where such convention isdesignated by, and guides actions of, architects and other relevantagents. (This reason directly links the social nature of architectureto its social impact—hence to sociology of architecture;see §8.2.) Architectural phenomena aresocial, then, because they occur as a result of contracts, meetings,firms, charettes, crits, juries, projects, competitions, exhibitions,partnerships, professional organizations, negotiations, workfloworganization, division of labor, and myriad other conventional andagreement-bound purposive actions and groupings of architects andother architectural stakeholders. One might object that, on aninstitutional theory,all artforms are social in just theseways. However, as played out in art worlds, institutional theoriestell us what counts as an art object rather than how such objects areconstituted to begin with. Proponents of this candidate must rule outanaïve architecture scenario, the possibility of a lonearchitect who has no socially significant engagements such as shapeher creations.
Either view is temporally sensitive. These parameters and how theyconstitute architecture’s sociality will change over time, alongwith vicissitudes in social needs, conventions, and relations.
Architecture as object and pursuit produces a great range ofeffects on social structures and phenomena, in particularly acutefashion in relation to housing, land use, and urban planning. In turn,architecture is shaped by such social concerns as scarcity, justice,and social relations and obligations. Some of this shaping resultsfrom social group and institution requirements for space and thestructured organization thereof, to promote group or institutionalfunction and identity (Halbwachs 1938). In addition, other socialrequirements stem from architecture’s roles in meeting concernsand needs for society as a whole.
Causal direction. We might see social forces asprimarily shaping architecture or else architecture as primarilyshaping social forces. Proponents of architecture as“shaper” suggest that architecture provides a means oforganizing society, a core Modernist claim but also a thesis ofbroader currency. Detractors counter that we cannot shape societythrough the built environment—or we ought not do so. What restson directionality is how we parse not only theoretical relations butalso practical consequences and perspectives concerning a host ofsocial phenomena. To take one example, how we gauge and address thepossibilities that architecture offers relative to social inequalityis likely a function of whether architecture contributes to, orinstead reflects, social classes and social hierarchies. We mightwonder whether architects can design so as to promote classequality—or solidarity, justice, autonomy, or other socialphenomena as we might foster.
On a third, holistic option, causality runs in both directions. Twoexamples of such are (a) systems analyses, which take built structuresassocial systems that contribute to social function, and (b)urban sociology, which takes the cityen gros as socialstructuring of space which shapes its habitants, who in turn shape thecity (Simmel 1903). As expanded toenvironmental sociology,the suggestion is that built environments promote patterns of living,working, shopping, and otherwise conducting commerce among groups andin relation to other individuals.
Other social science domains suggest attendant conceptualissues. For example, one sociological perspective takes relations ofindividuals and groups to built structures to be analogous toconsumption (Essbach 2004); we may ask whether architectural objectsenjoy a reception of this particular social sort, a range of suchsorts (perhaps as context-dependent), or perhaps, on an individualistread, no sort we would call “social”. For another,sociology of architecture also studies the profession: the backgroundsand relations of architects and other stakeholders, norms governingbehavior, and social structures of an architecture world constitute aspecies of artworld. This last suggestion prompts the question as towhat influence we should attribute to an architecture world on thestatus of architectural objects. Thearchitecture worldraises issues beyond those motivating Danto or Dickie, engaging manyparties whose interests and preferences are not primarily aesthetic oreven economic but driven by social, commercial, engineering, planning,and various other factors. For a third, a Science and TechnologyStudies perspective (Gieryn 2002) investigates howarchitecture—primarily in its optimization focus,quaengineered technology—shapes knowledge formation (for example,in laboratory or university design) and organizes social behavior (forexample, in architecture for tourism or retail sales). Conceptualissues here include whether there areglobal principles ofoptimization of architectural design for social advancement, and whatsorts of moral constraints are appropriate to such optimization.
That architecture hassome political aspects is a widelyheld, if not entirely uncontested thesis, with weaker and strongervariants. One weak version suggests that designing built structuresentails political engagement through interactions of architects andthe public. For example, architects solicit political support ofgovernment officials for development projects, governments engagearchitects to design built structures that express politicalprogrammatic messages, and citizens do political battle amongstthemselves over architectural designs or preservation decisions. Astronger version highlights a possible role for architecture as aninstrument of politics. Thus, Sparshott (1994) characterizesarchitecture as “…above all the coercive organization ofsocial space”. In other words, designing built structuresentails political engagement through the control by force of behaviorsand attitudes of people who interact with those structures.
That architecture might have any significant role in politics, orthe other way around, calls for explanation. One account stresses thatthe two domains are oriented around utility-maximization. Utilitycriteria deployed to judge the worth of architectural objects areexemplary subjects of democratic debate, policy analysis, or communityconsensus. The appeal to utility is an advocacy strategy forarchitectural design that dates to Bentham’s Panopticon(1787) or before. Further, traditional architectural promotion ofurban and social planning may be linked to social utility criteria forarchitectural quality; that relationship might run in eitherdirection. In distinct progressive and utopian traditions inarchitectural thought (Eaton 2002), advancement of social utility is acentral motivation in architectural attempts to realize idealisticvisions of modes of living and societal organization. (For a critique,see Harries 1997.)
Power, control, and change. Architecture’spolitical cast is also manifest in use as a means of socialcontrol. This is not an obvious use in societies where individualsfreely choose dwellings or other structures with which theyinteract. The less choice available in this regard, the greater thepossibility of defining people’s choices (a) concerning thebuilt environment they occupy and (b) as a function of thatenvironment. Prominent such architectural types include prisons andrefugee camps. Some see potential in architecture for more globallypromoting maintenance of power through behavior regulating norms thatsuch built structuresrepresent (Foucault 1975).
Even in generally free or open social settings, though, at thelevel of urban planning architecture indirectly determines behavior inpolitically shaped ways. Architects and others planning urban or otherdensely settled environments take into account such political aims ashonoring community values, promoting civic virtues, maximizing socialutility, fulfilling professional or public responsibilities, andrespecting citizen or leadership preferences (Haldane 1990, Paden2001, Thompson 2012). The politically hued results of such planningand design efforts, whether pursued in authoritative, consultative, orparticipatory processes, are architectural objects that change,encourage, or reward particular behaviors.
Ideology and agency. Architecture is also used topromote political views, culture, or control, by conveying symbolicmessages of power, nationalism, liberation, cooperation, justice, orother political themes or notions (Wren c1670s). One issue concernsthe architect’s agency in promoting an official politicalideology. In government commissions, the architect generally cedesdesign control, at a certain point, to the government. Yet thearchitect is the creator of record. This leaves open whetherarchitects so engaged are promoting the given ideology—or elsemerely acting as proxies for such promotion. It may seem odd tosuggest that, from an aesthetic standpoint the design is of architectX but from a political standpoint the same design is notattributable toX.
Political agency among architects is a special version of the moregeneral issue of architect agency relative to clients, including aswell corporate and individual clients. Architects have obligations tothe client’s aesthetic and utility concerns, and in virtue ofthose obligations, the responsibility, blame, and praise for a givenarchitectural object cannot be wholly attached to the architectalone. One question is what scenarios or conditions would need topertain to justify apportioning more or less agency—and,correspondingly, political or moral responsibility—to thearchitect or to the client, in design and build phases of realizing anarchitectural object. The phases matter. The design phase appears, atleast initially, to be the agency-wise province of the architect, andany post-build phase appears to be generally the province of theclient and any relevant user-base (until any such renovation orrepurposing as may occur). What happens in phasesen route topost-build is murkier, though.
Architectural Failure. Failed architecture is nota straightforward subspecies of failed art or failedartifacts. Architectural objects may rate as aesthetic disasters yetin some overall sense as successes, unlike non-architecture artobjects. And architectural objects may cease to function—ornever have functioned at all—yet count as overall successes,unlike a range of (though not all) non-architecture artifacts. Anotherfeature of architectural failure—in keeping with general designphenomena—is that architectural objects may count as successesor failures depending on different states of affairs, context, orremarkably small differences. Thus, a given architectural object maybe a failure as an active and integral built structure but not as aruin (orvice-versa). This suggests that backgroundintentions may matter at one early stage, and less so at later stagesin the life of a built structure—and that failure may have onecriterion for architectural abstracta and other criteria forcounterpart concreta. Further, among architectural objects withstandard, closely related variants, some may fail while otherssucceed—perhaps because of a minor distinction such as agarishly painted exterior. A viable account of architectural failureaccommodates such features or else devolves failure to the level ofsome single dimension of architectural objects, such as their putativenature as art objects (failed or otherwise).
Corruption, Ruins, and Preservation. Architecturalobjects as physically instantiated are corrupted or fall apart overtime, and may develop new forms in disrepair or as ruins. From aninclusivist, concretist standpoint, a ruin is not any lesser anarchitectural object than its corresponding newly built structure. Aninclusivism is available to the abstractist, too, though she will notsee them as the same object—and will rate them both as somehowlesser than the originary object. If we take them as the samearchitectural objects, we need an account as to how they relate to oneanother—apparently not by reference to intentions. Even if anarchitect designed a path to a ruin state, the actual ruin-state wouldlikely take on a wholly different shape. Some may take this as anargument against inclusivism.
Architects typically embrace the Vitruvian premium onfirmitas and reasonably assume that built objects shouldendure—and that they serve intended functions for as long as isdesirable. That pair of assumptions in design thinking is at odds withconcretism, given corruption and decay of physical constructions aswell as routine repurposing in the lives of built structures. Thefirst assumption is consistent with an abstractist vision ofeverlasting architectural objects. Endurance of serving intendedfunctions is another story: for architectural abstracta, stipulationof repurposing may not change the nature of a given, selfsameobject. Depending on degrees of stringency in defining anobject’s parameters, corresponding changes in design may bringabout an entirely new object or nearby counterpart.
Corruption brings not only total destruction and absence ofpreviously intact built structures, but also enduring ruins or flawed,damaged structures. There is a longstanding premium on ruins inarchitectural culture as promoting historical perspective, nostalgia,and at least one style (Romanticism). Yet ruins fit awkwardly, if atall, into standard architectural ontologies. The cultural premium ishard to explain for the abstractist, for whom ruins representdefective physical instantiations, which are already substandard inthe abstractist worldview. They are even harder to match up with aconcretist account as there aren’t underlying creativeintentions to build (except in ironic or kitsch building of “newruins”). Corresponding intentions instead typically concernpreservation, restoration, or elimination. Alternatively, Bicknell(2014) suggests we think of ruins as part-objects that, along withfull-blown “architectural ghosts”, represent past objectsin their intact, built glory and as corresponded to creatorintent.
Preservation and conservation possibilities prompt additionalconsiderations, such as whether restoration or maintenance of a builtstructure sustains it as an authentic architectural whole—and ifthis is independent of functional integrity, or holds for wholesalereconstructions (Wicks 1994); what conditions warrant preserving orconserving a built structure; and what principles guide warrantedalterations or completions of built structures—and whether otherconsiderations may include creativity, fancy, or sensitivity tocontemporary needs and context (Capdevila-Werning 2013). As concernscompleting unfinished structures, one issue is whether it is possibleto discern original design intent altogether. Taken together withcontemporary norms that shape our understanding of past architecture(Spector 2001), preservation and conservation are at least partlybound to present-day design conceptions.
Built Versus Natural Environment. We typicallytake built and natural environments to be clearly distinct. Thisdistinction does at least two kinds of work in philosophy ofarchitecture. For one, it helps establish what sorts of things wewould discount as architecture even on an inclusivistconception—and even there, we might accept lived-in caves asfound architecture but reject most other elements of thenatural environment as non-architecture (because neither built norfound). For another, we get a defined sense of natural contexts intowhich built environments fit (or not), without which any such notionsof fit are incoherent. If this is a viable (and desirable)distinction, it is perhaps less clear in what it consists. Onecandidate view is that we may distinguish the kinds of environments bytheir different sorts of objects and properties: we find columns inbuilt environments and trees in natural environments and never theother way around. Alternatives highlight the ascribable functions andintent that mark built environments but not natural environments; ordifferent sorts of behavior and obligations attached to the two kindsof environments. While an artifact-centered view of architectureweighs in favor of functions and intent as the most relevantdistinction, decaying value of design intent over the life of a builtstructure may give pause.
Human and Non-Human Architecture. What wetypically refer to as “architecture” ishumanarchitecture. This raises the question as to whether humanarchitecture is assimilable to a larger class of animal-builtstructures. That would suggest, in turn, that we could assess humanarchitecture—including settlement patterns, individualstructures, and built community environments—in ecological,animal behavioral, and evolutionary terms (Hansell 2007). If these arefundamental vantage points for understanding human architecture, thatwould suggest a need to translate all going accounts—whetherfocused on aesthetics, utility, or other concerns—intocorresponding biological terms. One way to resist this move is to markhuman architecture as a particularly human endeavor andcreation—likely by reference to intentionality, as flows intoaesthetic focus. However, this may just forestall the question as tohow to account forthat wrinkle—a particularly talentedanimal builder with notable design intent—in the larger story ofanimal builders most of whom have less or no such intent.
Environmental Psychology as Magic Pill. Anotherscientific challenge to traditional philosophy of architecture emergesin environmental psychology, which identifies ways that environmentalfactors such as color, shape, light, and circulatory pattern shape ourvisual reactions and behavioral patterns within and around the builtenvironment. From such empirical insights, we can fashion constraintson architectural design principles that guide architectural creation,and devise corresponding solutions to particular design problems. Asarchitects learn to exploit this information to advance design, we mayask whether an architectural object may be optimized by the lights ofenvironmental psychology yet—and evenconsequently—deficient in some other, architecturallycentral respect. Satisfying an architectural object’s intendedfunction or maximizing its utility may well include, or be advancedby, keen attention to environmental factors that influence attitudesto and use of that object. By contrast, moral or aestheticdeficiencies where environmental conditions are optimal seem realpossibilities. A resulting question is whether, and to what degree, wecould or should abandon moral or aesthetic drivers in architecturaldesign if in the future we could design architectural objects tooptimize environmental factors and so meet cognitive and emotionalneeds, thereby enhancing an architectural object’s reception butat moral or aesthetic expense.
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aesthetics: aesthetic judgment |aesthetics: environmental |aesthetics: German, in the 18th century |art, definition of |artifact |beauty |Goodman, Nelson: aesthetics |Ingarden, Roman |ontology of art, history of |Schopenhauer, Arthur: aesthetics |Wolff, Christian
I thank reviewers of theStanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy forcritical comments on previous drafts of this article, and the GrahamFoundation for Advanced Studies in the Fine Arts for a generous grantin support of this work.
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