Where things are going

PREFACE

Most readers of this book have probably experienced situations when someone enthusiastically talks nonsense to them, with great selfconfidence, and also expects appreciation, or even admiration, for what is being said. (Having worked in architectural academia for a quarter of a century, I can testify how pervasive these situations can be). When one points out that what has been said is false, self-contradictory, maybe even unethical or stands for evil political views, the person smiles stupidly and responds by saying: “Yes, but that is where things are going.” The response—one can hardly fail to notice—constitutes a clear admission of the lack of personal and intellectual integrity. By saying it, the person admits that his or her views, decisions, and actions are not his or her own, but result from an effort to be in line with “where things are going.” It becomes hard to avoid the impression that this chatty conversationalist would have supported the Bolsheviks in Russia in 1917, Nazis in Germany in 1933 and would have been a vehement advocate of McCarthyism in the USA in the early 1950s. Arguably, someone who yields to social trends in a modern democratic society would be even more likely to do so in a system dominated by strong political pressures. In such conversations, my experience tells me, it helps little to point out that what is good or bad, true or false, has nothing to do with “where things are going.” Attempts to explain this are typically met with more stupid smiles and polite evasion in the form of the statement “I am more interested to hear what you think about it.” A change of the topic of conversation quickly follows.

This same lack of integrity, I argue in this book, stands behind the greatest predicament of architecture of our time. Architecture as a profession, and the architectural academia that trains architects, can hardly be said to enjoy much respect today. In fact, it is hard to think of an era when they were less valued. Prize-winning architectural works are often appreciated only by other architects. The general public ORO Editions ignores them or occasionally reacts against them with hostility. The widespread impression is that architects and architecture academics

talk an incomprehensible jargon and design buildings that only they (say to) like. This use of incomprehensible jargon by architects and academics as well as the misemployment of philosophy on which it typically relies, is precisely the topic of this book. The fact that I work, research, and publish in both architecture and philosophy, and have formal qualifications in both fields, has naturally made me sensitive to architects’ and architectural academics’ (ab)use of philosophy. For many years I have collected examples of the misemployment of philosophical ideas, theories and concepts, in which architects and architectural academics have engaged, often without much understanding, in order to promote their careers, advocate and defend fashionable trends and impress and bamboozle colleagues and critics. By this time I have a substantial number of observations to tell about this phenomenon. I can even explain how it came about. The story that the book recounts is, I believe, often entertaining on the surface, but it is hard to deny that the wider picture the book presents is nothing short of depressing.

I promised to Thomas Gordon Smith that I would write this book decades ago. The project has always been on my mind but it has also taken a very long time to mature. In March 2020 the coronavirus pandemic interrupted my sabbatical at the University of Pennsylvania and forced me to return home to Norway. Even interlibrary loans were interrupted at the time and it was impossible to continue work on my current project about Guarino Guarini. At the same time, isolation enabled me to write this book, after many years that I have been planning it. I am exceptionally grateful to my former students Mark Gage and Cameron Moore for the extensive help, advice, and suggestions in the critical moments of the writing of the book. Regular discussions with my current doctoral students Amund Rolfsen and Øystein Holdø have provided stimulating thoughts and helped me formulate my ideas more clearly. Without the help of Astrid Sandvik and Stine Thordarson Moltubakk, librarians at my home institution, NTNU, it is hard to imagine that I would have been able to complete the book. The views on which this book relies were formed through my discussions and exchanges, agreements and disagreements with numerous colleagues and students over decades. It summarizes large part of my biography for the past quarter of the century to mention their names and express my gratitude in the order I got to know them: Samir Younés, Duncan Stroik, Tony van Raat, Wouter Boer, Damon Brider, Peter McPherson, ORO Editions Nick Zangwill, Michael Austin, David Chaplin, Renata Jadrašin-Milić and Ian Verstegen.