This book will make you sad, furious and disgusted by the industry we work in

I wasn’t looking forward to reading Peter Apps’ comprehensive account of the Grenfell Tower tragedy, but finally plucked up the courage to read it over Christmas.

It was, as expected, utterly heartbreaking. Apps portrays the lives of those who survived, and many who didn’t, vividly and touchingly. Sadly, it feels these human stories have become lost among technical discussions around regulations, cladding and procurement. They are incredibly hard to bear.

I had closely followed the aspects of the recent public inquiry relating to the refurbishment of the tower. However, Apps’ excellent book broadens out the context, setting the tragedy against decades of failure dating back to the post-war era, when successive governments have sought to house an ever-growing population as quickly as possible while simultaneously deregulating, privatising, fragmenting, under-resourcing and under-funding the sector. In short, dismantling every mechanism and lever at their disposal to ensure the delivery and management of quality housing that serves residents’ needs and which stands the test of time.

Before describing the tragic events of 14 June 2017, the story settles momentarily on Lakanal House in Southwark, where a fire in 2009 resulting in six deaths displayed all the warning signs necessary to head off future disasters. An inquest was undertaken and the government swore to learn lessons. Yet just eight years later an uncannily similar fire at Grenfell Tower would result in the deaths of 72 people.

My overwhelming feeling on reading the book was of shame and disgust at being part of the construction sector that let this tragedy happen. It is clear that almost no element of our industry is fit for purpose.

Policy is focused on deregulation and delivering as cheaply as possible at the expense of quality; planning and building control departments are under-resourced and underfunded; regulatory bodies are privatised and beholden to commercial interests. Within the housing sector, in particular, there seems to be a fundamental lack of understanding about how to deliver quality.

Procurement favours low fees over demonstrable ability to deliver. Scopes are cut to the bone. Timescales and budgets are unrealistic. And responsibility is abdicated to contractors through design and build, without any effective mechanism for ensuring quality except lazily written employer’s requirements.

More than five years have passed since Grenfell and yet we still see these same traits continuing day-in, day-out, with little evidence that much has changed.

Coincidentally, I read Show me the bodies on the way to see The Carpenters’ Line woodworking exhibition at Japan House. This show explores the skillful timberwork of joiners in the densely forested Hida region of Gifu prefecture in central Japan. It was an odd juxtaposition that starkly demonstrated how our own culture has gone awry. The obsessive attention to detail, precision, care and craft of these Japanese joiners sat in direct opposition to our own focus on profit, speed, spreadsheets, arse-covering and box-ticking– our bosh-it-up and clock off culture.

It’s time to be a bit more humble, to reflect that collectively we’re not doing that well

The primary function of a home is security – for you, your family and your loved ones. Our collective attitude towards housing in this country has resulted in delivering thousands of substandard homes that undermine this very sense of security.

My social media streams have recently been dominated by architects, consultants, contractors and clients bigging themselves up with their previous year’s successes and displaying their exciting emerging projects. Instead of this hubris, I’d suggest that it’s time to be a bit more humble, to reflect that collectively we’re not doing that well; that the entire industry needs a complete change of attitude, with a greater focus on care, on quality, on craft and greater consideration of the people who will ultimately draw out their lives in the buildings we create.

Whether you’re an architect, consultant, policy-maker, regulator, client, contractor, subcontractor, supplier or manufacturer, I’d urge you to read this book. It will make you sad, furious, ashamed and disgusted by the industry we work in and determined to change it for the better.
Hari Phillips is a director and co-founder of Bell Phillips Architects