The Last Architect
Yes, I had The Last Jedi in mind for the title. I know it’s a little self-conscious, but given the fact that we are infamously known for dressing all in black (like Luke Skywalker—not me; I prefer all blue) and that we truly believe we have superpowers when it comes to problem-solving, particularly in areas like housing, urbanism, structures, and sustainability, it’s not a complete overstatement.
From the time of Filippo Brunelleschi in the Renaissance to modern visionaries like Frank Lloyd Wright and today’s Norman Foster-all of them, of course, high-level figures-architects have always maintained a strong relationship with cities, governments, institutions, patrons, and individuals.
But today, even the most highly awarded and widely published architect is an endangered species—not to mention the millions of “workforce” architects behind the projects of nearly all architectural offices globally.
We architects are very good at pampering ourselves with praise and adulation within a closed circle. We publish highly intellectual content meant to be consumed among ourselves. We speak in elevated terms about elevated subjects that sometimes only we understand, and many times, we force this conversation onto the “common people” as an act of indoctrination. But it’s time to wake up and look beyond ourselves.
The stories about our ego precede us with a fair amount of truth, yet we’ve earned that self-confidence in many cases—heroically, because we’re the original entrepreneurs.
We’ve learned (the hard way) to be builders, developers, managers, directors, business owners, leaders, salespeople, talent recruiters, accountants, lawyers, psychologists (yes, that client), and also… designers, inventors, and creators.
Within that context, the margin for error is considerable, and the leverage for success is limited. In the end, you are only as good as your last project, and you end up with an average success rate to be measured.
Well, perhaps not anymore.
AGI (Artificial General Intelligence) is just around the corner. Everything we know about architecture—how it is created and by whom—is about to change.
At the office, we’ve gradually learned to use AI as a tool for creating conceptual renderings to explore how a project might work within certain parameters. It’s been invaluable in helping clients visualize expectations and define the general direction of the design process, dramatically reducing the time required in the early stages.
Today, we can generate an advanced image from a prompt—a carefully crafted text, a sketch of specific words and terminology—and even animate parts of it. We can take that image and extract digital drawing information, evolving it into a full architectural drawing. We can even generate 3D files from that process, giving us a highly accurate idea of how a project could be realized. This is already incredibly fast and transformative within the traditional architectural process, but we are only a few years away from it becoming instant.
We are playing with our own demise, using the very technology that will replace us. We secretly know it, but we’re too busy to entertain the thought. We have to keep solving, creating, budgeting, scaling, planning… earning to support our families, our offices, our workers.
We read the news and books, we listen to podcasts like the latest episode of The Ezra Klein Show about AGI. We’ve read Yuval Noah Harari. And we just keep going for as long as we can.
With the sheer amount of architectural knowledge, styles, and cultural references available on social media and the internet, almost anyone can develop a basic understanding of architectural design. The openness of digital image-generation platforms like MidJourney is giving anyone the ability to create their own digital visions of architecture. You see where this is going.
Many professions are doomed to disappear—we know the list; there’s no need to painfully repeat it here. But what about those that go beyond problem-solving, task execution, and process automation? What about the emotional ones—the ones that make us feel something beyond the physical? What about relationships with creators, artists, musicians… architects?
Well, the answer is certainly polarizing, like many things today. Human relationships and human interaction are not at their peak of popularity right now. Perhaps when we grow tired of everything being digital, we’ll learn to appreciate them again. For many, it will be a relief not to suffer the unpredictability of an architect—the delays, the budget miscalculations… But on the other hand, some will deeply miss the person who designed the dream home where their family grew. They’ll miss the personal relationship with a human being who transmitted his or her passion into their lives. The architect you invited to your table, who sat with your family for dinner. The one you proudly spoke about at social gatherings. The one you were happy to recommend.
I think architects, specially the most experienced and renowned, will still be leading and directing design processes, but there will be less, if not very few. The higher purpose of architecture is to solve complex habitats and infrastructure problems in a beautiful way. Space can influence how the life of someone will be.
The architect you’re talking to right now—the one you’re considering for a project—may very well be The Last Architect.
At least yours.
Cherish and embrace him, enjoy the conversations, opt for the human… like when you choose to play a vinyl record instead of streaming a playlist on your Bluetooth speakers. Seek out historical references, take trips to past cultures, explore art and literature, immerse yourself in cinematic narratives. Drink a glass of wine. Get lost in the exploration of a site for a project. Keep his book on your coffee table.
AI won’t do that.
H.
PS. As I was finishing this text, I had lunch with my friend Sergio, also an architect, and when walking back to our offices we stopped on a dark blue door of a house, admiring the color and finishing… suddenly the door opened and a guy asked-almost yelled “Are you architects?!”… he literally pulled us inside the house to show us some renovation plans he had… I guess we still have some time… do we?


El mejor artículo que te he leído hasta ahora. Fue una taza de café en día nublado en medio del bosque. ¡Abrazo!
Qué articulazo Hec. Me identifiqué con mucho de lo que escribiste. La silla de Van Gogh valía 2 pesos, ¿pero el cuadro por qué vale US25mm? Por la presencia que tuvo en su momento VG para extraer la esencia de la silla.