Zoë Blackler (BD) offers architectural action (and inaction) as activism for socially responsible Architects. | bdonline
A Time for Scruples
04 March 2005

Would you design a military installation? An animal research facility? Or a palace for a dictator? When it comes to ethical judgements, how far is too far?

by Zoë Blackler


You've been approached by the dictator of an ex-Soviet republic to design a presidential palace dedicated to peace and interracial harmony. He's not the ideal client, but does the nature of the project make it ethically justifiable?

If you decide to turn it down, should you look again at that commission for an airport extension on environmental grounds? Maybe you should terminate your contract for the private house for the billionaire with a shady past? Or the military barracks, the car factory, the private school?

When it comes to these sorts of ethical judgments, the line is far from clear. So how do you even begin to make these decisions?

First stop: the RIBA for some practical help. “It's up to every individual architect to search their own conscience,” says president George Ferguson, who refused to be drawn in to comment on our list of dilemmas.

The ethics of working in Iraq recently prompted much debate in RIBA council, he says, with members deciding to refer to the UIA's code of ethics. But the code is concerned principally with how architects conduct themselves when working abroad. As Ferguson sums it up: to work in tandem with local consultants, to respect the local culture and act responsibly towards the environment. No guidance here then, on whether to say yes to our dictator.

To be fair though, it would be impractical to draw up a code to cover every situation and near impossible that everyone would agree on every case.

Maybe an ethicist can offer us some pointers for how to make up our own minds? According to Mairi Levitt, from Lancaster University, “in ethics you try not to just think about yourself but about the wider consequences of your actions”.

Some ethicists think right and wrong are absolutes, she says, while others argue that these notions are relative, dependent on the culture and the age. One branch of ethics, utilitarianism, suggests weighing up what will bring the greatest good for the greatest number. Others disagree: even when our actions bring benefits, there are still things we should not do.

All begin, however, with an analysis of the consequences, which Levitt says should be considered in the broadest sense.

You need to look at the wider social and global impact as well as the long-term effects, unlike governments, for example, which tend to think in the immediate. And the bigger the project, the greater the potential for risks and the more factors there are to consider.

Kate Macintosh, who chairs Architects & Engineers for Social Responsibility, suggests architects should start with practical research into potential clients. “Examine the motives of the client or the nature of the regime,” she says. “Go to environmental groups and human rights groups for advice.” Consider UN sanctions and Foreign Office guidelines.

It may be OK to accept a project for a disreputable client if the project could have a humanising or liberalising effect, Macintosh believes. And there is an argument that, in the case of a prison say, if you don't take the project on someone else will and do it less well.

One architect who has had plenty of experience negotiating these sorts of dilemmas is Guy Thompson, chief executive of Norman & Dawbarn.

Two particular cases have made him stop and think hard. The first, at a British military installation known to conduct research into germ warfare. The practice decided to go ahead, but in the end the project didn't come off.

“There was huge discussion at board level, and the general view was that it was our government we were working for — and on that basis the checks and balances appeared to be reasonable.”

The second was a cigarette factory in the third world. “There was discussion both for and against but in the end we proceeded. People have choice. Smoking isn't thrust upon them.”

The practice has also been involved in military training camps but always for reputable regimes, Thompson says. But how can you be sure that a change of regime won't see your camp being used to train terrorists or child soldiers for example?

Thompson acknowledges the dilemma: “When there's regime change in a country you have to ask yourself whether you can carry on and whether the work is still appropriate.”

And is there a difference between simply working in the country with a repressive regime and working directly for the government?

Much of Norman & Dawbarn's work is for aid agencies or development banks. It has had a 30-year presence in Nigeria, a country for many years ruled by military dictatorship. But work there has been mainly on hospitals and schools.

“We weren't helping the military dictatorship there,” says Thompson. “We were helping the people. It's a fair justification. We feel we are contributing. Normally we take the view that because of our strongly held beliefs we can have more influence being involved than not being involved.”

Are there any projects they wouldn't take on? The practice wouldn't design a death penalty facility, it steered clear of South Africa during apartheid and if it was approached by a Russian client with dubious credentials, the architects would certainly exercise caution.

Architect Anthony Browne was approached by one such Russian client and took the job. Browne's claim to fame is having worked for Nicholas van Hoogstraten, the property tycoon convicted of manslaughter though later cleared.

Browne took the precaution of flying to Siberia to check the man out and was convinced he was reputable and locally well regarded.

And if he had made his money by underhand means? Browne would still have taken the job. “There's always a certain amount of blood on any money.”

Architect Robert Adam numbers among his clients a man “who dealt in something others would frown on” but which offered him no ethical problem. That particular client however, “was probably one of the most unpleasant people I've ever met”.

He says: “Unless they are notorious you've no idea where their money comes from. When you first meet them you make a judgement about the sort of person they are. If they are dodgy, in practical terms it makes it hard working for them. It's not highhanded, just practical.”

And while Adam would happily build a house for an arms dealer, under no circumstances would he work for someone involved in the white slave trade. He has checked out one of his clients on the internet. “But how far do you go?”

There's no clear answer to this. Like the activities of some of the less reputable clients out there, ethics is a murky business.

The real dilemmas ::

:: Foster & Partners struggled with the ethics of designing a Palace of Peace for the president of Kazakhstan, who has been criticised by the Foreign Office and Human Rights Watch. The practice decided the nature of the project — to bring together Muslims and Jews — meant it could be a force for good.

:: Richard Rogers is well known for saying he will never design a prison, nuclear power station or military facility. However, he is currently building Heathrow Terminal Five, condemned by environ-mentalists for increasing air travel seen as unsustainable and polluting.

:: Rem Koolhaas is building CCTV in Beijing, a state broadcasting centre for the Chinese government. As China opens up to capitalism, architects are increasingly working there, despite the continuing repressive nature of the regime.

:: Even when you believe your project is ethically sound, others may disagree. Architon found itself the victim of threats from animal rights protesters after it agreed to design an animal research centre for Oxford University. The project was later dropped.