Throughout human civilization, architecture has always served as both a physical and spiritual medium. It provides shelter while also embodying cultural memory in tangible form. Since the Industrial Revolution, the role of architects has been gradually transformed — separating from the traditional craftsman-engineer model and evolving into something akin to a film director: an “artistic curator” who orchestrates structural design, materials, and engineering expertise to translate abstract concepts into built environments. This specialized division of labor reached its peak in the 20th century, giving rise to the phenomenon of the “star architect” — figures who, much like sorcerers, were bestowed with almost mythical status in the public imagination.
However, with advancements in artificial intelligence and immersive technologies, this two-century-old professional paradigm is being disrupted, forcing us to reconsider the fundamentals of architectural education. When algorithms can autonomously generate design proposals, and virtual reality allows for real-time spatial experiences of unbuilt projects, what remains at the core of the architectural profession?
The fragmentation of architectural practice
The professional split within architecture is a direct product of the Industrial Revolution’s division of labor. In medieval times, the roles of “designer” and “builder” were indistinguishable. Gothic-cathedral master craftsmen were not only structural engineers but also spatial poets, acquiring holistic expertise from foundations to spires through an apprenticeship system. The Industrial Revolution restructured modes of production, reshaping human lifestyles and triggering unprecedented social upheaval. As specialization intensified, architecture developed a binary system: designers (architects) versus technicians (engineers). This separation was institutionalized through the Beaux-Arts system in 19th-century Paris, which categorized architecture as the “mother of the arts”, while engineering computations were relegated to auxiliary skills.
Despite shifting societal structures, the relationship between power and architecture has remained unchanged. Historically, emperors directly oversaw significant architectural endeavors — Qin Shi Huang planned Xianyang; Louis XIV commissioned the Palace of Versailles — ensuring that architects functioned as executors of power. In modern society, capital has replaced monarchy, with developers and government agencies emerging as contemporary “architectural sovereigns”. The star architect, in turn, is akin to a court artist whose creative freedom is subject to economic imperatives. This dependency is particularly evident today — Zaha Hadid Architects’ signature aesthetic relies on immense financial backing and cutting-edge engineering, which are ultimately supported by capital or national interests.
Alternative educational models
Spain’s architectural education system offers an alternative perspective. Its decadelong curriculum emphasizes a “practice-learning” cycle, requiring students to grasp the entire architectural process from concept to completion through hands-on experience. This method retains elements of preindustrial craftsmanship, preventing architects from becoming mere paper designers. Japan’s architectural education, on the other hand, fosters spatial awareness in everyday life. Ordinary citizens instinctively appreciate traditional spatial elements like shitsu (layered space) or engawa (transitional zones), providing architects with a knowledgeable audience.
In contrast, contemporary architectural education is overly focused on formal innovation and personal expression, producing architects skilled in creating visually striking “architectural products” but often detached from real societal needs.
In the AI age, rethinking architectural education is not merely about adapting to new tools — it is about designing a more humane future
AI and architectural automation
In 2024, global AI venture funding surpassed $100.4 billion, with architectural AI applications experiencing explosive growth. Algorithms now handle design tasks from daylight analysis to structural optimization, while immersive virtual reality allows clients to “walk through” unbuilt spaces. These transformations challenge the architect’s identity: If automated systems can generate proposals and spatial experiences can be digitally previewed, what unique value does the architect still provide?
AI’s transformative impact is most evident in design workflows. Previously, architects spent months refining volumetric relationships. Now, generative design tools produce hundreds of options in hours. Building information modeling integrates design, construction, and operational data into a continuous system, requiring architects to engage throughout a building’s lifecycle. Consequently, architectural education must shift from “drafting skills” to “data thinking”, teaching students to manipulate algorithmic parameters and assess cultural appropriateness of AI-generated outcomes. As architectural YouTuber Daniel Titchener puts it, “Platforms allow architects to test ideas in real time and respond rapidly to technological shifts. This is a new form of architectural practice, rooted in tradition yet highly agile.”
The architect’s evolving role
Far from diminishing the architect’s role, technological advancements emphasize their importance as integrators. As AI generates design options, engineers handle technical details, and contractors manage construction, the architect’s core competency shifts to “meaning-making” — determining which spatial relationships are worth preserving, balancing cost with experiential quality, and narrating architectural stories.
This evolution mirrors the role of film directors in the digital-effects era: While technology lowers the difficulty of capturing footage, it heightens the demands of narrative composition. When YouTuber Gemma Wheeler shares strategies for designing “micro homes”, her audience is not primarily drawn to technical specifics but rather the intellectual process — how to choreograph daily life within a confined space. This thought-oriented approach underscores human intelligence that AI struggles to replicate.
Additionally, knowledge democratization through platforms like YouTube enables broader audiences to engage with architectural reasoning, fostering an educated public that actively participates in design discussions while challenging architects’ authority.
Reevaluating architectural education
At its core, architectural education is integrative, yet its training methods remain fragmented. Most schools categorize architecture strictly within art or engineering, with entrance assessments emphasizing either drawing or mathematics while neglecting applied thinking and systems analysis.
Spain’s long-form curriculum and Japan’s spatial literacy education hint at potential solutions: Architectural education should not begin at the university level but rather as part of K-12 general knowledge, cultivating architectural awareness from an early age.
“Spatial aesthetics literacy” should be a foundational subject, teaching children through hands-on exercises — understanding gravity through building blocks, recognizing scale through campus mapping, and analyzing historical architecture for cultural narratives. These lessons are not about training professional architects, but rather, nurturing citizens capable of appreciating spatial quality. When society collectively recognizes standards for “good architecture”, market forces will naturally favor designs that genuinely enhance living environments over superficial aesthetic spectacles.
At the university level, architectural programs must emphasize cross-disciplinary training. In the AI era, traditional architectural subfields (structures, acoustics, sustainability) are increasingly interconnected. For instance, an energy-efficient design requires expertise in material science, fluid dynamics, climate analysis, and behavioral psychology. The future of architectural education will likely prioritize “T-shaped talent” — deep specialization within vertical disciplines alongside horizontal knowledge integration across multiple fields.
A new architectural paradigm
Ultimately, AI will not eliminate architects but will redefine their professional scope. The historical progression from craftsman-engineers to specialized designers, and now toward technological integration, signals a dialectical return — one that does not regress into preindustrial technical exclusivity but rather advances toward a broader, inclusive knowledge model.
Architects are “spatial curators”, “environmental storytellers”, and “experience designers”, continuously navigating the relationship between humans, technology, and nature. As one philosopher aptly stated, “We shape buildings, and then buildings shape us.”
In the AI age, rethinking architectural education is not merely about adapting to new tools — it is about designing a more humane future.
The author is a member of the Chinese Association of Hong Kong and Macao Studies and artistic director of Zuni Icosahedron.
The views do not necessarily reflect those of China Daily.