Note: In this post, I’m going to expand on two more principles from Vitruvius’ landmark work, De Architectura. The first two posts can be found here and here. In summary, while Vitruvius wrote to architects, the ancient craft of “architecture” was more akin to the role of a modern developer than to the specialization of many architects today. My focus is from this lens of modern development – what are concepts that were important throughout history that we don’t think about (or just don’t care about) today? In the last post, I covered the effect buildings have on the health of individuals and communities and whether to build structures that last. In this post, we’ll look at the craft of development and how projects should fit the location and community culture.
Vitruvius opens his second book with a story about Dinocrates, a Macedonian architect, who hoped to gain an audience with Alexander the Great. He was a confident man – so confident that when his letters of recommendation did not get him an introduction as quickly as he wanted, he undressed, oiled himself up, threw a lion’s skin over his shoulder (a la Hercules), and marched right past the dumbfounded guards and up to the king’s throne. When questioned by Alexander – presumably with a laugh – he gave a sales pitch for his architectural services. Alexander, Vitruvius notes, was “delighted” with his plan and went on to commission Dinocrates to oversee a number of projects in Egypt, including the renowned city of Alexandria.
The point is not how to set meetings (if any desperate salesmen want to give this a shot, I’d recommend throwing on some boxers and skipping the oil). Rather, it’s an excellent example of the Proverbial principle that a man who is skilled in his work will stand before kings (Prov. 22:29). Dinocrates earned his shot and didn’t disappoint. He was confident in his mastery of his craft and delivered on his promises. In a well-functioning society, we would expect to see examples of this in every field: the best tradesmen would win the most important jobs; the 10x engineers would be rich; the wisest and most virtuous judges would fill the Supreme Court; the most skilled developers would be commissioned for public projects. In a corrupt society, however, politics and bureaucracy will ensure that the opposite happens.
So how might a developer seek to become excellent in his craft? Let’s turn to Vitruvius:
“By the observations made in their studies, [men] were led on from wandering and uncertain judgments to the assured method of symmetry. When they observed that Nature brought forth profusely and provided materials abounding in usefulness for building, they handled them with fostering care, and equipped with delights the refinement of life, increased as it was by their several crafts” (2.1.7).
This comes at the end of a sweeping overture on the origins of “building” – what we would call “development”. The two aspects that he highlights as the capstone of man’s “evolution” in building are an appreciation (or love) for the craft and a diligent study (or observation) of the methods and materials that are available. This appreciation is the starting point for modern developers who want to refine their craft.
The mistake that most people make is approaching career education as a sort of “download” of necessary skills. What do I need to know to get started? What do I need to know to get a leg up on my competition? How do I meet the requirements to get this job done? These are all good reasons to study, but if you don’t start with a love for the craft, you will never excel.
To follow Vitruvius’ description, if you start with a love for the craft, study follows out of that. It becomes a lifelong pursuit. You observe everything – even if it isn’t immediately applicable to the job on your plate – because you are curious about why things work the way they do, why your peers make certain decisions, and how you might have done things better. You don’t equate profits with performance; you recognize that your execution can always improve and deals can turn out great despite errors or missed opportunities. This careful observation is both on big-picture decisions and minor details. You don’t attend AOC meetings as a formality or show; you care to see the details of your product. You hire architects, engineers, and contractors who are excellent in their respective crafts and observe the decisions they make, questioning to understand their reasoning. The vision you’re always striving for is that of the “perfect” project: on-time, profitable, artfully designed, and solving a real need in the community.
It will be a great blessing to our communities if more developers will love their craft and seek to excel in it. And for those who are new to the craft, this focus – combined with a healthy dose of patience – will lead to success down the road.
“Now we shall proceed aright herein if first we observe in what regions or latitudes of the world our work is placed. For the style of building ought manifestly to be different in Egypt and Spain, in Pontus and Rome, and in countries and regions of various characters” (6.1.1).
How many of you consider how a building fits the local culture at the start of a new project? I’m guilty... financial performance and a headache assessment are usually the first concerns. According to Vitruvius, however, fitting a building to its location should be the primary concern when planning a new building. There are a few components to this:
You’ll notice the common thread here – most of the practical elements of Vitruvius’ concern to fit buildings to their region are no longer relevant today. And for the portions that are relevant, developers can pass them off to our architects and contractors to decide on (weatherproofing, material selection, etc.).
I think Vitruvius’ principle is worth considering from a different angle: How does a planned use of a building fit the local culture?
I’ll illustrate this with an example close to home. Over the last 6 years, there has been a boom in apartment development around the Boise, ID metro. Most of these have performed well (thanks to the massive population growth we’ve had). But in the long run, how many people move to Idaho that want to live in an apartment? We have a few urban neighborhoods where this will be the case, but I don’t see a lot of long-term demand for multifamily housing in many suburbs. We have a strong outdoor culture; many desire space and privacy over convenience. An apartment may be an easy landing spot when you first move into town or move out on your own, but in contrast to heavier urban environments, most don’t want to stay in an apartment. I would expect build-to-rent communities to better fit the local culture in the long run than apartments.
Given the close tie to financial performance, most developers already consider their product/market fit in-depth. There’s another aspect to Vitruvius’ principle besides tenant demand, though, and it doesn’t get as much thought: will this building strengthen a region’s unique identity? Or will it push the community further into the generic uniformity that we see across the country?
Similar to the discussion on structural quality in the last post, this question doesn’t have an easy answer. In my experience, this consideration sometimes comes up with design decisions: rather than building a grey-box industrial space, we made some facade modifications on a recent project that gave the building an outdoor/mountain aesthetic. Another common situation is when you want to introduce a successful concept from another market into your community – do you copy/paste the plans or make changes to fit the new location? A group that does a great job of this locally is Roundhouse. They’re building mid-rise apartment communities (common in larger urban areas) but adapting them in both design and function to the local outdoor-oriented communities.
There is always going to be that tension between the best possible project for a community and the project that is most profitable for the developer. As I’ve mentioned in other posts, we can’t negate the importance of the latter. That said, even a little consideration of a project’s fit with the local culture will go a long way to strengthening the unique identity of each region.