Architectural veteran and leading podcaster Jason Boyle calls for industry-wide reform, highlighting low wages, declining autonomy, and financial instability as driving factors in his decision to leave architecture
After 24 years in architecture, I’m finally done with being an architect. This is not because I’ve lost my love for design or the deeply creative process of turning a design concept into reality, but because, in 2024, it simply doesn’t make financial sense to keep going.
Six years ago, when I became a Fellow of the Royal Institute of British Architects, I started to notice that many of the fellows had quietly exited the profession, moving on to other careers or roles where they were not practising as architects. I also noticed that they were thriving, both financially and professionally. Everyone I asked told me that they had left architecture because it just didn’t make financial sense to them.
It got me thinking – the role of an architect today can be compared to a once-grand feast that has been gradually chipped away, leaving only scraps on the plate. Once, architects were seen as the chefs of the built environment, responsible for crafting the entire “meal” of a project – from conceptualising the grand design to overseeing every aspect of its realisation. The architect was the head of the table, curating the flavours and textures, ensuring every ingredient worked together harmoniously to deliver a cohesive masterpiece.
But over the years, other professionals have arrived at the table, each taking a slice of the architect’s role. Quantity surveyors, project managers, planners, engineers, and contractors all now take significant bites out of the architect’s once-comprehensive responsibilities. It’s as if the architect was originally in charge of the full course but is now left only to garnish the plate, rather than direct the entire meal.
Quantity surveyors have taken over the role of controlling costs – once a core part of architectural oversight. Project managers, the self-appointed maître d’s of construction, now orchestrate the progress of a build, leaving the architect to sit back and watch. Planning consultants handle site negotiations and town planning, roles that architects used to expertly navigate. Meanwhile, specialist engineers handle everything from structural design to sustainability, nibbling away at what was once the architect’s domain.
I am finally fed up with the prevailing mantra that architects “don’t do it for the money”
Even the dish of creative freedom has been diminished. Developers and contractors now often make design decisions, leaving the architect to present a pre-approved menu rather than create the dish itself. As design-build contracts rise in popularity, contractors – much like the fast-food industry – offer quick, pre-packaged solutions, leaving architects to simply check off items on a checklist.
Over the last four years of mentoring young and emerging architects, I’ve listened to so many horror stories that began to take a toll on me. Common themes of low wages, exploitation, toxic work environments, and outright workplace abuses are commonplace in architecture. I currently have a client whose employers asked her to reduce her salary by £7,000 simply because they could. This happens more often than you would think, often to people who are not fully qualified yet and are desperate to gain the right experience to qualify. In addition, hosting a podcast, “The Broke Architect Podcast,” brought many more stories into the light – stories that echoed my own frustrations and the systemic issues within the profession.
Here’s the brutal reality: while there are many wonderful people in architecture, the profession is also filled with people who are suffering financially and struggling with debt. I’m talking here about architects with 20–30 years of experience who haven’t gambled their life savings away in Vegas – they have simply just worked as an architect.
I am finally fed up with the prevailing mantra that architects “don’t do it for the money.” It’s a poisonous belief that’s been drummed into us from day one. I remember the first time I heard it, from a university lecturer no less, and felt a knot in my stomach. Wasn’t this supposed to be the career that gave me a better life?
What architects do is undeniably amazing, but is architecture good for the architects?
Back in 1991, when I embarked on my architecture degree, I had no idea just how poorly architects were paid. There was no internet, no way to research it properly. But as I progressed through my education, the reality hit hard. Architecture wasn’t just a gruelling degree – it was one of the toughest professional paths to pursue. And even after years of hard graft, the pay was shockingly low, and the job market even worse.
During my year out, I worked for six months without pay. That’s six months of unpaid labour, followed by six months working for a contractor just to get by. Out of 150 students who started the degree, only eleven of us made it to Part 3. I was 27, about to get married, and only a combined income with my fiancée kept us afloat. However, a few years later, I was divorced and staring down a mountain of debt. Imagine being a 30-year-old architect, divorced and making just £22,000 a year.
From that point on, I chased the money because I felt I had no choice. At that time, the thought of giving up a career into which I had put all my hopes and dreams just didn’t seem right. I bounced from firm to firm, seeking higher salaries and better projects. But no matter how prestigious the project, I always felt short-changed. I’ve known for 24 years that this profession doesn’t pay, but I have just carried on – why do we do this?
Some may argue, “Why didn’t you start your own practice?” Have you seen how many practices are failing right now? I worked at multiple firms in Manchester, and money troubles were always lurking in the background – you only had to go to the pub with an associate who would spill the beans after a few beers. At 35, I was offered a director role, but after seeing the accounts, I walked away. I knew it would be financial suicide.
Yes, it’s possible to build a profitable practice, but no one ever taught us how to run a business. The profession still clings to the idea that architecture is somehow “above” such things. Meanwhile, my solicitor, who’s helping with my wife’s visa, wouldn’t budge on her fees. Why? Because she’s part of a profession that knows its worth. Architects, on the other hand, are stuck in a profession where we often undersell ourselves.
Here’s a stark example. A young civil engineering graduate who was on a recent project of mine, with just two years of experience, was earning £50,000. A month later, he handed in his resignation after being offered £60,000 by a rival engineering firm.
Sure, you could say he wasn’t “worth” that salary with only a degree, but the market clearly valued his skills. Meanwhile, I, with 24 years of experience and responsibility for a £1.8bn project, was earning only £20,000 more. Is that fair? Absolutely not. Hand on heart, can we call the profession of architecture great or even functional? What architects do is undeniably amazing, but is architecture good for the architects?
>> Also read: Architecture is a business. So why don’t architects act like business people?
Postscript
Jason Boyle is a registered architect and creator of the Broke Architect podcast
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