It looks like the first Beer Can ABI for 2021 has arrived with the same crappy beer we suffered through in 2020. Didn’t we just decide we’re all workers and nothing more? Pick up the pace, people so we can drink like the good ol’ days of 2019!
Lately I’ve been thinking about a couple of events in my life that I never previously thought about together and it’s kind of interesting.
First Anecdote: Yeah, About That Bill…
In the rapid downfall of real estate development that precipitated the Great Recession of ’08/’09, my employer at that time had been working with a developer who abruptly closed up shop and walked out on hundreds of thousands of dollars of the firm’s bills. The people behind this development company had other ventures in different markets to fall back on and today operate all sorts of random businesses around town. Almost every architect eventually runs into a client that walks out on all or part of a bill. If you’re diligent and lucky you can file a lien and maybe you’ll recover pennies on the dollar for that debt in a couple decades as a part of some transaction on the client’s property. In this instance, the developer client’s unpaid bills caused extra harm to the firm at a time when most of the other clients were having to call off or indefinitely pause their projects too — layoffs and pay cuts were the worst they’d ever been in no small part due to this client’s enormous outstanding debt — people were put out of work specifically because of these unpaid bills. Such is the way, and it’s one of the many risks of our business. You’ll even find opinions that are sympathetic to the client as their work dried up and they went out of business — it’s not uncommon to hear something like, “it’s an unfortunate situation all around” or, “nothing you can do in a catastrophic economic collapse like that.”
Second Anecdote: Go Directly To Jail
Here’s a story from even further back in time. In the early years of my architecture career (we’re talking more than 20 years ago now 😳) I worked a lot of overtime. The extra pay was helpful to my situation as a working young adult who was still living with and financially supporting a parent. One weekend I had to skip the OT on a big project in order to drive out to the edge of town to pick up someone from jail. This person ended up there after a depression-fueled perilous financial situation made them desperate enough to write a few bad checks for things like groceries and gas; and those checks added up to a sum just large enough that it was a crime punishable by a short jail sentence since they were broke. I had a lot of time to think on the long drive out to the jail. I wondered what it was like in there. I wondered why a few days in jail was considered a suitable punishment for this particular wrongdoing — it felt like a medieval holdover, something a king’s court would order upon a commoner. Of course, I wondered what this jail was going to look like (I could ask about what the inside looked like too). There were lots and lots of questions, I’d never had to do this before.
The jail and attached buildings were a relatively new government campus at that time. The exterior was done in Minnesota’s trademark Kasota limestone, and like every half-assed Kasota design before or since, that meant it was paired with a red clay brick. It’s an enormous property, with courthouses and other government infrastructure and all the bells and whistles. There’s no doubt it was a big, big project for the firms who did the original design and the subsequent remodels since my visit. I navigated the sea of asphalt and signage pointing me in every imaginable direction all at once and eventually found the sidewalk where this newly freed person waited and helped them into the car. I asked about some of the stuff I had been wondering on the way there and I learned that they were in a corridor of jail cells where there was no one else around for the entire time they were in there. It was very quiet, but also incredibly lonely. A guard would come by with food (sometimes it was fast food drive-thru burgers), and that was about it for human interaction unless you count a TV. They said everything was painted white and the cell they were in was smaller than any bedroom they’d ever had. They kept referencing how lonely and isolated it made them feel. We ended up changing the subject for most of our ride back to civilization because they were feeling really stressed out by the ordeal and needed to think about something different, so that’s about all I learned. In the months following the jail stint, this person ended up spiraling deeper into poverty and was even briefly homeless before they got help to rebuild their life. Such was the impact of those few days sitting in the brand new jail out amongst the farm fields past the edge of town. I haven’t shared this story in a while, but whenever I tell it, there’s a decent chance someone will say something critical like, “they did basically steal so that has to be punished in some way, right?”
The Design of Human Warehouses
The cold, hard truth is that for most careers in architecture, a lot of the day-to-day work is nothing like what one imagined it would be when they initially thought, “I’m gonna be an architect when I grow up.” Society needs all sorts of buildings and many of them aren’t fun or glamorous at all, but they pay the bills. I thought about that a lot this time that I worked on a ginormous waste treatment facility (un-ironically referred to in the industry as a WTF) that basically dried poop to be bagged up and used for fertilizer or something like that. There are many more unglamorous building types out there, but someone’s gotta design them, right? Maybe this is how one gets into the jail and prison design business — after all, someone’s gotta design those too.
The two stories I began with represent two of the ways our society chooses to deal with debts for goods and/or services that go unpaid specifically when the wrongdoer has run out of funds. For a poor person with mental health issues who writes checks for groceries when they don’t have money to cover the checks: go sit in jail and, in the process, get a stain on your record that makes it almost impossible for you to get a job or housing once you’re free. For a profitable but over-leveraged company in an economic bubble who takes hundreds of thousands of dollars of A/E services without paying for them: maybe you’ll get less money from the sale of your building that was made possible by those services; no biggie though, let’s move on from this unfortunate episode. One punishment is ridiculously harsh and the other is surprisingly lenient, but that harsh one creates a steady demand for a building type, among other things…
…As architects design more and more human warehouses (an apt term I’ll use for the remainder of this article) to put more and more people away for things like not being able to pay rent or stealing hedge trimmers or passing bad checks to pay for groceries, there’s a whole economy of businesses that provide goods and services to the human warehouses, thereby contributing to the enormous cost of keeping people locked up. It’s US taxpayers at the federal, state, and county levels paying for this multi-billion dollar industrial complex, and I’ve previously written about how much money’s out there for architects willing to do this ghoulish work. For these architects in the human warehouse economy, I’m sure it’s very good business. After all, the government ain’t gonna walk out on the bill and it wants the really large, well-built buildings that command the big fees too — that’s a win-win from a business standpoint. It’s a safe bet that the firms involved in the design and remodels of the human warehouse I visited out on the edge of town have had some great years provided by this line of work where staff got good raises and maybe even some nice bonuses. It’s the money alone that brings architects to this building type. It’s not glamorous and no one wakes up in the morning and is like, “pRiSoN deSIgN iS mY PAsSiON” before they head off to work. The problem though is not that this is unglamorous work for architects, it’s that these human warehouses do real harm to people.
How do you get something that’s really bad to stop when that something also makes people a lot of money? It’s gonna be really hard. In the architecture community, we have to make a moral and ethical choice: profit or health, safety, and welfare. So far, we’ve been unable to let go of the profit, and that is our collective shame as a community.
On January 13th, 2021 the American Institute of Architects announced it was putting an indefinite pause on all ArchiPAC activities. In the AIA’s announcement they mention that the reason for the pause is because they’re conducting “further review of the political situation and to enable the development of protocols to address this and future events aimed at undermining American voters”. This is the bare minimum response that AIA could’ve provided given that they’ve not only lined the pockets of dozens of the 147 members of congress who voted to overturn the results of our country’s democratic process; but they’ve also consistently failed to meet their stated purpose, which is to give to candidates “who support our legislative agenda outlined in the [AIA’s] Policy Platform.” The AIA’s announcement refuses to acknowledge that ArchiPAC funding efforts to throw out election results is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the dysfunction of the AIA’s participation in our country’s system of legalized bribery. In fact, when it comes to its stated purpose, ArchiPAC is an abysmal failure.
The three legs of the AIA Policy Platform are “A Future Economy”, “Climate Action”, and “Healthy Communities.” As I’ve covered previously, ArchiPAC giving contradicts Healthy Communities and Climate Action goals when its giving supports legislators who have desires for both expanding the world’s largest prison infrastructure and abandoning important commitments to the environment in favor of profiting off of pollution.
I haven’t yet pulled an example of the damage done by ArchiPAC to the “A Future Economy” leg of the AIA Policy Platform, so let’s take a look. The December, 2020 stimulus package passed by congress is loaded with both direct and indirect support for low-income housing, which aligns with the Platform’s desire to “invest in low-income housing tax credits.” Not to mention that the package renews the popular PPP program, which many architecture firms have utilized to save jobs (including some real eye-popping ones). And of course it also contains provisions for stimulus checks too, which benefit the often criminally underpaid architecture professionals whose good work makes the names behind all those letters in the big firms’ acronyms so successful. Seems like a pretty important vote for ArchiPAC’s beneficiaries in congress to approve, right? But ArchiPAC gave $109,000 over the last three election cycles to members of congress and their PACs who voted against this critical legislation. And there you have it, I’ve kicked out all three stool legs from under ArchiPAC — note that these are just three examples, and there’s plenty more out there when you dig into the mud. If you’ve donated to ArchiPAC in the past based upon their stated purpose of bolstering the AIA’s Policy Platform through PAC giving, then you should be upset.
Members of Congress & Their PACs Who Voted Against Stimulus & Affordable Housing & Got 💰 From ArchiPAC
|Name (Party – State)||Contribution Year(s)||Total Contributions|
|Kevin Brady (R-TX)||’16, ’18, ’20||$16,000|
|Steve Chabot (R-OH)||’16||$2,500|
|Garrett Graves (R-LA)||’16||$2,500|
|Sam Graves (R-MO)||’16, ’18, ’20||$10,500|
|Mike Kelly (R-PA)||’16, ’18||$5,000|
|Cathy McMorris-Rodgers (R-WA)||’16, ’18, ’20||$8,500|
|John Shimkus (R-IL)||’16, ’18, ’20||$6,500|
|Joe Wilson (R-SC)||’16||$1,000|
|Tim Scott (R-SC)||’16, ’20||$6,500|
|Mike Conaway (R-TX)||’18||$2,000|
|Virginia Foxx (R-NC)||’18, ’20||$7,500|
|Kurt Schrader (D-OR)||’18||$2,500|
|Mike Simpson (R-ID)||’18||(Returned)|
|McMorris-Rodgers American Dream Project PAC||’18||$1,000|
|Tomorrow is Meaningful PAC||’18||$1,500|
|Jodey Arrington (R-TX)||’20||$1,000|
|Don Bacon (R-NE)||’20||$2,500|
|Troy Balderson (R-OH)||’20||$2,500|
|Mike Bost (R-IL)||’20||$2,500|
|Vernon Buchanon (R-FL)||’20||$1,000|
|Buddy Carter (R-GA)||’20||$8,500|
|Mike Gallagher (R-WI)||’20||$1,000|
|Darin LaHood (R-IL)||’20||$7,500|
|Devin Nunes (R-CA)||’20||$1,000|
|Adrian Smith (R-NE)||’20||$1,000|
|Lloyd Smucker (R-PA)||’20||$1,000|
|Brad Wenstrup (R-OH)||’20||$1,000|
|Scalise Leadership Fund PAC||’20||$5,000|
PACs can be a rather nebulous and inefficient way of maybe influencing change, which might be one reason why you don’t see ArchiPAC touting any concrete success stories. Every PAC has to be completely unscrupulous in its bribery with the futile hope that the money will bring back more benefits to the PAC’s funders than it does harm to them. Unlike a corporate PAC, an architecture PAC doesn’t even have a corresponding security on the stock market from which a member of congress could gain an (illegal) inside trader’s profit should they support the PAC’s legislative desires, so the slim odds of success in the bribe biz get even slimmer for architects. In the current era of politics, it’s not like congresspeople are out there hiding their intentions or ideology, so we’re all but assured how they’re going to vote even before it happens despite the flow of cash to their pockets. None of this seems like something that architects should be getting involved in. So many of the recipients of ArchiPAC’s money are so deeply troubling that you have to question the decision making that went into them in the first place. Over the years ArchiPAC Steering Committee and Fundraising Committee members and their firms along with AIA staffers at both the national and local levels have consistently been some of ArchiPAC’s biggest donors; they should come out and explain themselves if they’re going to keep doing this dirty job. But what I really want is for them to stop and for ArchiPAC to go away forever, and so should you.
Here at the start of 2021, ArchiPAC’s annual fundraising competition remains active, as does its online donations portal. It’s giving for the 2022 election cycle had already begun prior to the so-called pause. These are important details because, according to the Federal Elections Committee, a PAC can only shut down when it no longer receives contributions and it no longer makes expenditures. It’s clear that all the AIA wants to do is wait for the uproar over ArchiPAC to subside and then quietly go back to
business bribery as usual, which means ArchiPAC continues giving in ways that undermine AIA’s Policy Platform. This is why I demand that we #DefundArchiPAC, and it’s why I need all of you to speak up and demand the same. It’s time to end ArchiPAC forever.
The December 2020 Beer Can ABI numbers were delayed a day due to the inauguration, but they’re so bad it would’ve been better to bury the lede and just put them out that day and no one would notice. So we remain in the realm of beer so cheap and weak that cases of it couldn’t get us drunk, which is exactly what we need when getting slapped in the face by these depressing numbers.
The AIA recently revised its Code of Ethics and Professional Conduct to prohibit its members from designing several specific pieces of prison infrastructure. The move was warmly greeted in the press and on social media. But it was a meaningless move on AIA’s part. The only acceptable ethics for AIA members are ethics that forbid any work on jails and prisons.
While I won’t speculate on who kept these changes so watered down, it’s important to remember that we architects are a timid bunch — it doesn’t take much for us to get spooked and back off. Remember, there’s a lot of money in the design and construction of prisons, and AIA’s ArchiPAC has been a strong supporter of politicians who also benefit from the support of the for-profit private prison industry.
Anyone who thinks that “prohibiting members from knowingly designing spaces intended for execution and torture, including indefinite or prolonged solitary confinement of prisoners for 22 hours or more per day without meaningful human contact, for more than 15 consecutive days” is sufficient when you have a prison machine capable of the macabre creativity displayed in this recent article from ProPublica is pulling the wool over their own eyes. Also, I had to laugh at all the adjectives and conditions written into the definition of solitary confinement — it was clearly influenced by lobbyists. This new verbiage is designed to leave a nice, big loophole for the prison industry while giving its architects a pass. I can already see RFPs and programs from the for-profit prison industry describing rooms sized for gurneys and IV stands, but omitting what specifically the room will be used for — so that’s a-okay ethically! Wink-wink, nudge-nudge! Come on…
There are millions of people locked up in this country. We have no shortage of jail or prison capacity. What we do have a shortage of is built infrastructure that supports world-class education, technical training, quality affordable housing, and places for kids to go after school — all of which are proven to reduce crime and/or recidivism. Until the AIA puts some teeth into its policies on prisons and jails, it’s tacitly endorsing this country’s fucked-up, racist, and corrupt justice system. Let’s do better.
Who’s ready for a listicle!? It’s that time of year when everyone everywhere is reminiscing on the best whatevers of the year. Of course, I’m getting in on that action with a list of the top ten most-read articles of 2020, the year of ALL CAPS triumphant return. Here we go…
My opinions on how the three pillars of prerequisite experiences to becoming a licensed architect need to change were a popular read — even if not everyone agreed with me!
It’s no secret that I ❤️ Smartsheet and I was happy to see that you all liked this series on building the absolute best friggin’ system for managing rollout development! (seriously, all other systems suck and this one rules)
People love venting about the closed BIM world created by divergent objectives and proprietary file formats. I do too, so I did…in this article!
More Smartsheet! This look at the direct pipeline of information exchange between Smartsheet and BIM is my favorite Smartsheet trick!
I did my own take on a cheap tech stack to try and help Autodesk CEO Andrew Anagnost’s fuzzy math work better…and I did it! Just not using any Autodesk products. Sorry, Andy!
We all like to see how much others are making, and I was happy to lift the veil that had long been concealing TV architect Mike Brady’s earnings from us. Turns out Mike is a cash machine! 🤑
It’s the question for the ages: do you need to be good at math to be an architect? I hate this question. You love this article!
The Paycheck Protection Program was one of the few morsels of good news we had in 2020…until we saw who was taking all that dough. In my tabloid-esque look at who got what in architecture, we see that there’s some architects out there making Mike Brady look downright poor!
There’s no question that THE STORY of 2020 for the AEC software world was the angry architecture firms’ open letter to Autodesk. It was real tip-of-the-iceberg shit. One of my favorite things I wrote this year was this article, so I’m glad you guys liked it too.
…and now, the most-read story of 2020 at ALL CAPS…
This was one of those article ideas I felt really satisfied with, and it was a lot of fun to think back on all these titles. I had to dust off a lot of old spreadsheets and notes to find all the failed software. Every architect knows the struggle of finding good digital tools to get the job done.
Thanks for reading! In my look back at the site’s statistics I found one article that doesn’t have a single view! I’m not saying which one because now I’m paranoid that it’s really bad! 😂
The November ALL CAPS Beer Can ABI took a step in the wring direction following months of progress towards the land of actual good beer. At this point, we’ve been so down for so long that we’re running low on cheap beer options. If only Costco still made Kirko Sigs Light…
October’s ALL CAPS Beer Can ABI brought us mixed signals, with design contracts firmly over the line into quality beer territory as billings lag behind and are still sipping the crap beers.
Since Midwest firms lead the way back to good beer, we’ll salute this part of the country with Three Floyd’s legendary Alpha King. Cheers! We ain’t drank this good since February! 🍻
Election season always means we’ll hear renewed calls from AIA leadership for politicians to engage with policies supported by the architecture community. This has me thinking about ArchiPAC again. I’m not happy about ArchiPAC, the AIA’s political action committee. Anyone who reads this blog or follows me on Twitter knows that too. I want to defund ArchiPAC because it is an organization that has lost its way and is disconnected from the AIA’s Policy Platform.
A question that comes up in discussions about how to make ArchiPAC better (for those that want to keep it around) is what exactly are the rules that would guide ArchiPAC contributions. Well, a good place to start is by simply making sure that politicians who receive funds have policy positions and, more importantly, votes that support the initiatives of the AIA Policy Platform. With this in mind, let’s take a look at how ArchiPAC has failed to align its giving with the Policy Platform. In this article, I’ll be zooming in on the “Climate Action” portion of the Platform.
One part of the “Climate Action” Platform is “Rejoin the Paris Climate Accord”, which President Trump walked away from a few years back. It’s important to note that the President’s decision was greatly influenced by lawmakers in his party, including the 22 senators with significant connections to big oil who wrote him a letter urging him to dump the Accord. In the two election cycles since the letter was written, ArchiPAC gave money to several of these anti-environment senators:
|⛽️ Oil-Loving Senator||💰 ArchiPAC Contribution|
For reference, the contributions above represent 40% of all the money ArchiPAC gave to senators during those election cycles.
This group of senators also lobbied the Trump administration to rescind the Clean Power Plan in the same letter, which goes directly against each of the carbon-based pollution mitigation/elimination strategies within AIA’s “Climate Action” Platform. So by giving money to these senators, ArchiPAC is getting a 2-for-1 deal in its pro-oil-industry giving.
This is just one example of connecting politicians’ actions to ArchiPAC’s giving and looking at how that giving contradicts the AIA Policy Platform. There are plenty more connections to be made. For example, connecting opposition to Superfund site cleanup dollars to lawmakers — something that goes against the Platform’s initiative to “actively address the disproportionate impact of climate change and environmental degradation on communities of color.” All of this is still just focused on the “Climate Action” portion of the Platform too — and we haven’t even looked at the “Future Economy” or “Healthy Communities” Platforms.
There’s no question that it’s a ton of work to do this connecting across a Platform and across congress, but if we think it’s important enough to have a PAC, then we must put in the work to make sure giving is aligned with our values. And if we think it’s too much work, then defund the PAC and move on to something that’s actually productive; something where our words and actions are actually aligned to do good for the health, safety, and welfare of our planet, its occupants, and their communities.
The post-lockdown dip into the cheapo beers for the ALL CAPS Beer Can ABI continues in the latest beer can stack from September. As the Beer Can ABI enters the upper 40s, we are seeing a changeover into “ironic cool” cheap beer, which is good news, but still a ways to go in this recovery. It feels like an eternity since we enjoyed quality brewskis.
As always, remember that the more we bill, the bigger the stack of beer cans and the better the quality of those beers. 🍻