As artificial intelligence continues to disrupt sectors of the economy and reshape entire industries, institutions and individuals alike are bracing—and rapidly adapting—to the changes that machines seem to hold over our heads. Yet the more precise pressure is not simply AI altering the way people work and live, but the business models and investment logics of the companies developing these systems: the concentration of capital, the new requirements for compute, the race for compartmentalized talent, and the infrastructural footprint needed to sustain it. In the Greater Bay Area—anchored by Guangzhou, Shenzhen, and Hong Kong—this dynamic is especially pronounced. Government-led initiatives are actively accelerating the industry's growth, with policy and planning mechanisms beginning to translate an ostensibly intangible field into physical form: zoning updates, earmarked land, and the emergence of AI-oriented building types, from research laboratories to large-scale data centers.
Porous City / MVRDV and The Why Factory. Image Courtesy of Frans Parthesius, MVRDV and The Why Factory
This article is part of our new Opinion section, a format for argument-driven essays on critical questions shaping our field.
Every architectural epoch has been defined by its instruments. The compass, the drawing board, the camera, and the computer have each altered how architects think and produce. Yet the current moment feels qualitatively different. As artificial intelligence and generative systems enter daily workflows, tools cease to be passive extensions of the architect's hand and begin to operate as semi-autonomous agents. They propose, optimize, and simulate, producing outcomes that are, at times, beyond the author's full anticipation.
Some types of work only become visible when they are no longer done. They are discrete, repetitive, rarely celebrated, yet they quietly sustain the functioning of any operation. In architecture, this dimension rarely appears in the images that circulate. When we think about the discipline, we evoke seductive renderings, carefully lit perspectives, precise plans, drawings that promise possible or even utopian futures. Yet the layer that supports these formal gestures is not found in the image, but in specification, detailing, and documentation.
Since artificial intelligence moved to the center of architectural debate, the conversation has largely been driven by its ability to generate forms and atmospheres in seconds. Stylistic simulations, conceptual variations, and visual experimentation have come to symbolize technological advancement in the field. There is something understandable in this fascination: architecture has always engaged with representation as a way of imagining what does not yet exist.
Founded by Oliver Thomas, the ATN Summit is the first flagship conference of the Archi-Tech Network, marking five years since the platform began as a grassroots initiative to share real-world architectural knowledge. Taking place on March 18–19, 2026, in London, the ATN Summit brings together architects, technologists, and industry innovators to explore how emerging technologies are reshaping architectural practice. Designed as a high-production, ideas-driven event, the Summit reflects ATN's evolution from an informal online conversation into a global platform actively engaging with the future of the built environment.
'Architecture of Possibility: Zaha Hadid Architects' at MOCAUP Shenzhen. December 2025 - April 2026. Image Courtesy of MOCAUP
"Architecture of Possibility: Zaha Hadid Architects" at the Museum of Contemporary Art and Urban Planning (MOCAUP) in Shenzhen, China, presents a comprehensive overview of the evolution of Zaha Hadid Architects' work over recent decades. On view until April 10, 2026, the exhibition is structured through chronological and thematic narratives that highlight the studio's multidisciplinary research and design methodologies. The exhibition, now open to the public, showcases the office's work in the Shenzhen area and its involvement with new Artificial Intelligence technologies. Particular emphasis is placed on the integration of artificial intelligence (AI), immersive and interactive design tools, and virtual environments, which together form an expanding digital design ecosystem.
In 2025, the architectural field has been marked by a dense calendar of exhibitions, a measured slowdown in construction across multiple regions, and a period of reflection that scrutinizes the impact of intelligence (artificial and natural)—both on professional practice and workplace culture, as well as its use as a pedagogical tool. Over this calendar year, ArchDaily has published more than 30 interviews in a range of formats—Q&As, in-person conversations, video features, and more. These exchanges have engaged themes of sustainability and nature, housing and urban development, AI and intelligence, adaptive reuse and public life, and have closely followed major exhibition platforms including the Venice Biennale, Expo 2025 Osaka, Milan Design Week, Concéntrico, and others.
This article is part of our new Opinion section, a format for argument-driven essays on critical questions shaping our field.
Who designs architecture today? In a professional landscape increasingly defined by collaborative workflows, generative software, and distributed teams, the figure of the architect as a singular creative author feels both anachronistic and inadequate. This article argues that architectural authorship is no longer an individual act, but a collective and distributed condition shaped by institutions, technologies, and shared forms of labor. The transition from individual to collective authorship is not simply a consequence of larger offices or digital tools; it signals a deeper structural shift in how architecture is produced, communicated, and validated.
In recent years, this long-standing relationship began to shift. Architectural images did not simply become more refined or technologically advanced; they took on new social and institutional significance. As images moved beyond professional contexts and entered wider public circulation, their role expanded. They were no longer only methods of communication within the discipline, but also objects of public interpretation, discussion, and, at times, dispute. This marked a subtle but important change in how architectural visuals were understood and used.
Finding the right tools to represent a project idea or carry out a construction job remains an ongoing challenge for architecture and design professionals. While software for drafting, 3D modeling, and calculations has increased precision and efficiency, many architects continue using legacy tools learned in academia or practice—tools that feel familiar, but don't necessarily offer the best design experience. From overloaded interfaces and clunky workflows to endless plug-ins and constant back-and-forth between disconnected software, traditional design tools often reveal their complexity and fragmentation.
Architectural ornamentation has been a recurrent subject of debate across the industry for decades. A practice that was largely abandoned during the Modernist movement could now be standing on a platform that might, again, allow its resurgence, due to the current convergence of robotics, artificial intelligence (AI), and digital fabrication. Technology has seemingly removed the primary obstacle to decorative detail: the high cost of skilled manual labor. However, this new technical capacity demands a critical examination: What does ornamentation truly represent, and what do we gain or lose by resurrecting it through algorithmic design?
The conversation around AI in architecture has shifted from hype to application. Architects and designers now want to understand how the intelligent use of AI-powered tools can drive innovation and create a competitive advantage. Yet, as curiosity and optimism grow, firms also face concerns about the ethical and legal questions surrounding AI adoption.
Architecture is being reshaped by artificial intelligence, climate change, and shifting social structures. At SCI-Arc, students learn to face these challenges head-on, using design to shape a rapidly changing world.
This fall, SCI-Arc's upper-level Vertical Studios bring the world into the studio. Each is led by a practicing architect working at the forefront of the field—from experimental fabrication to urban and environmental design. Drawing on real projects and professional experience, faculty challenge students to engage with the realities of the present and to design with precision, empathy, and imagination.
Nearly three years after artificial intelligence captured the world's attention, architecture is still searching for stable ground in the conversation. Between confident claims and cautious trials, many professionals still question whether—and how—AI is truly changing everyday practice.
A new white paper from Chaos addresses this through practitioner interviews and in-depth internal research, revealing how the technology is beginning to reshape productivity, authorship, and creative identity across the industry.
The white paper offers a closer look at where AI creates value, where it falls short, and how architects can navigate what comes next.
Architecture has entered a pivotal moment. As cities continue to grow under the weight of climatic and social pressures, the materials and systems that shape them are being redefined. Artificial intelligence and robotics, once used to accelerate construction processes, are now being rethought as tools for cultivation. Printed structures that grow, breathe, and decay. Cultivation, in this context, refers to designing with biological materials, where growth and decay are active parameters, merging digital precision with ecological intelligence. This evolution shows the shift from efficiency to empathy, where architecture becomes an agent of active repair. The introduction of mycelium and other natural materials into 3D printing presents a new paradigm in architecture: the logic of the living. A place where computation and fabrication meet biological adaptability.
AI and robotics, once associated with industrial efficiency, are now opening new ways of designing. Early examples, such as ICON's 3D-printed housing prototypes, focused on speed and automation but offered little response to their surroundings. Newer projects, such as the MycoMuseum at the 2025 Venice Architecture Biennale, reinterpret these tools through a biological lens. Instead of shaping concrete, they cultivate living materials, marking a shift from pure optimization toward regeneration.
When architects are still students, a moment often marks a turning point: their first encounter with software. It's not just about learning a tool but discovering a space where ideas transcend physical models, taking shape in a digital environment and beginning a relationship many will carry throughout their careers. What happens next? Software keeps evolving, and with it, the design experience. In recent years, this evolution has accelerated—machine learning, AI, prompts, and integrated workflows have moved from the periphery to the core of design practice, becoming part of the shared language between software and users. As these tools take hold, a key question emerges: How will this reshape our experience of designing architecture in the future?
While a book or piece of music can be easily set aside if it doesn't capture our interest, architecture is different. A building endures for decades, and it shapes the landscape and influences the lives of its occupants for years to come. This permanence brings with it a unique set of challenges: architects must design spaces that impact collective life, often under tight deadlines, limited budgets, and significant pressure. In addition to navigating complex regulations and coordinating construction, architects face the misconception that design is simple, or that anyone could do it. The constant balancing act between quality, cost, and speed often leads to sacrifices — whether in time, health, or the integrity of the project itself. This cycle not only wears down the profession but diminishes society's understanding of the true value of design.
The well-known "good, fast, and cheap" triangle is rarely resolved without the architect sacrificing their own time, health, or even the quality of the project. Repeated for decades, this equation fuels a cycle of wear that not only undermines the profession but also depreciates the value of design in society, even diminishing the role of such a beautiful and important discipline.
