If an architecture practice depends on unpaid overtime to deliver its projects profitably, there’s something wrong with its operating model.
That doesn’t mean architects should never work late. Exceptional projects sometimes demand extraordinary effort. Clients change their minds, deadlines move and unforeseen problems arise.
But there’s a difference between an occasional late night and a business that quietly relies on its people working beyond their contracted hours.
The first is sometimes unavoidable.
The second is something principals have a responsibility to investigate.
So why has unpaid overtime become so deeply embedded in architectural culture? And what can you do to change it without compromising the quality of your work?
The problem starts long before you become an architect
Think back to architecture school.
It’s 3am. You’re still in the studio. Models are scattered across your desk, drawings need refining and tomorrow’s critique is rapidly approaching.
Your classmates are still there too.
You’ve been working for hours, but there’s still something that could be improved.
Another drawing. Another refinement. Another design direction.
You keep going.
Eventually, the project is presented, the tutors offer their criticism, and you begin the cycle all over again.
Sound familiar?
Architecture school can teach you extraordinary things about creativity, perseverance and problem-solving.
But it can also teach you something far less useful.
That the amount of time you’re willing to sacrifice is a measure of your commitment to good architecture.
You learn to pursue excellence regardless of the hours required to achieve it.
You learn that a good design can always be improved.
And you learn that recognition from respected peers can make the sacrifice feel worthwhile.
Those aren’t necessarily bad qualities.
The problem arises when you carry the same expectations into commercial practice without questioning whether they’re sustainable.
The £0 job offer that ended my architectural career
I experienced this culture firsthand.
Having completed my architectural education and built an award-winning portfolio, I was offered a position at a small architecture practice in Belfast.
I was delighted.
It was during the financial crisis, and opportunities were scarce. I knew how fortunate I was to receive an offer.
During the interview, the principal made it clear that significant overtime would be expected.
That didn’t particularly concern me.
I’d already spent years studying architecture while working part-time at McDonald’s, sometimes working through the night to meet university deadlines.
I wasn’t afraid of hard work.
Then came the salary discussion.
The principal asked how I felt about working for free.
Not minimum wage.
Not expenses.
Nothing.
There was no room for negotiation. The expectation was that I’d continue supporting myself financially elsewhere while contributing substantial hours to the practice.
I declined.
I didn’t know it at the time, but that would be the last architectural employment offer I’d receive.
Eventually, I moved to Wales and built a career in business and brand strategy instead.
But that experience stayed with me.
It introduced me to a professional culture where the opportunity to produce prestigious architecture could apparently be considered sufficient compensation for the people delivering it.
I don’t believe that’s a healthy foundation for a business.
When overtime becomes an expectation, not an exception
Years later, an architect I’ll call Raj told me about his experience joining a prestigious, internationally recognised architecture practice.
The expectation was clear.
He would work a minimum of 60 hours a week.
His salary covered 37.5 hours.
Overtime payments would only begin once he exceeded 64 hours.
Working fewer than 60 hours could be interpreted as a lack of commitment.
He accepted the position.
Eventually, he left and established his own practice.
His experience raises an important question.
How many of today’s principals experienced similar expectations early in their careers, and how many have unknowingly carried those expectations into their own businesses?
It’s easy to inherit a working culture without consciously deciding to adopt it.
Perhaps you worked exceptionally long hours to become a principal.
Perhaps your previous employers expected the same.
Perhaps the most respected architects you encountered were celebrated for their relentless dedication.
But tradition is not evidence that something is commercially sound.
And just because you endured a particular working environment doesn’t mean the next generation should have to.
The hidden commercial cost of unpaid overtime
Let’s consider a straightforward example.
You agree a project fee based on an estimate of 200 hours of work.
The project begins.
The client requests additional changes. Some design decisions take longer than expected. Coordination becomes more complicated.
By completion, your team has spent 250 hours delivering the work.
The additional 50 hours weren’t included in the original estimate.
Perhaps nobody recorded them.
Perhaps some of the work happened during evenings and weekends.
Perhaps you completed it yourself rather than asking your team to stay late.
Either way, those additional hours have a cost.
If your staff are paid for the overtime, your delivery costs increase.
If they’re not paid, the practice may appear more profitable in its accounts, but only because its employees have contributed additional time without compensation.
If you do the work yourself, you’re effectively subsidising the project through your own unpaid effort.
And if you use the original 200-hour estimate when calculating the next proposal, you’re at risk of repeating the problem.
This is why simply recording paid working hours isn’t always enough to understand project performance.
You need to know what delivering the work actually requires, not just what appears on the timesheet.
Three questions every principal should ask
If overtime has become a regular feature of your practice, I wouldn’t start by telling everyone to work fewer hours.
I’d start by understanding why it’s happening.
1. Are your projects priced correctly?
Review the assumptions behind your fees.
How many hours did you allocate to each stage?
Did those estimates reflect the actual complexity of the work?
Were you allowing sufficient time for coordination, design development, client communication and revisions?
Compare your original allowances with the hours actually required to deliver recent projects.
If the same activities consistently take longer than expected, your estimates need attention.
You may also need to reconsider whether pricing primarily around anticipated time is the best approach for every service you offer.
2. Are you protecting the agreed scope?
Scope creep is one of the most common commercial frustrations I hear about from architects.
The client requests another option.
A previously agreed decision is reconsidered.
Additional coordination becomes necessary.
The work expands, but the fee remains unchanged.
Not every change requires an additional invoice. Sometimes extra work is included within an appropriate allowance or is necessary to fulfil your existing obligations.
But you should be able to identify when the services being requested go beyond what was agreed.
Clear appointments, defined deliverables, revision allowances and procedures for additional services help protect both the client relationship and your practice.
Don’t wait until the project has become unprofitable before discussing scope.
3. Are the right people doing the right work?
Architects are highly trained professionals.
Yet in some practices, those same professionals spend substantial portions of their time on activities that don’t require architectural expertise.
Administration.
Bookkeeping.
Routine coordination.
Marketing tasks.
Operational responsibilities that could be delegated, simplified or supported by better systems.
I’m not suggesting that these jobs are unimportant.
Quite the opposite.
They’re important enough to be handled properly.
But if your most experienced architects are continually distracted by lower-value activities, you reduce their capacity to do the work for which clients actually hire them.
Review how responsibilities are distributed.
You may discover that the solution isn’t another architect. It could be better processes, clearer responsibilities or specialist support.
Measure performance, not sacrifice
One of the arguments I make in Design for Money is that measuring professional value primarily through time creates tension.
Employers want productive hours.
Employees want their contribution recognised.
Clients want efficient delivery without unnecessary costs.
When time becomes the dominant measure, it’s easy to confuse being busy with being effective.
But ten hours spent solving a problem isn’t automatically more valuable than two hours spent solving the same problem well.
Experience should make you better at identifying solutions, avoiding mistakes and making confident decisions.
Your practice should benefit from that improvement.
That doesn’t mean abandoning timesheets or ignoring working hours.
Time tracking remains valuable for estimating costs, planning resources and understanding performance.
It means remembering that time is a measure of input, not necessarily a measure of value.
Your goal should be to produce excellent outcomes through a commercially sustainable process.
Not to reward whoever is willing to stay at their desk the longest.
Better profitability can support better architecture
There’s another consequence of underpriced work and excessive overtime that deserves more attention.
Eventually, financial pressure can begin to influence the quality of the architecture itself.
Projects are rushed.
Design exploration is shortened.
Teams become exhausted.
Principals accept work they’d otherwise decline because cash flow is tight.
And the creative thinking that makes a practice exceptional is compromised by the pressure to keep delivering.
This is why I believe profitability and design excellence should be treated as complementary objectives.
Healthy margins give you choices.
You can invest more time where it matters.
You can develop your people.
You can afford to turn down unsuitable projects.
You can protect the quality of your work rather than constantly trading it against financial pressure.
And you can build a practice in which hard work is appreciated without becoming an expectation of personal sacrifice.
Profit isn’t the purpose of architecture. But it is one of the things that makes great architecture sustainable.
What should you change this week?
Start with one recently completed project that required substantial overtime.
Review the original fee, anticipated delivery hours, actual hours worked and any additional services provided.
Then identify the biggest reason the project exceeded its original allowance.
Was the fee too low?
Did the scope change?
Were the resources poorly allocated?
Did an external delay create avoidable pressure?
Or was there another cause?
Choose one improvement to apply to your next project.
It might be a revised estimating process, clearer scope boundaries or more realistic resource planning.
The important thing is to avoid repeating the same problem.
Because a commercially mature architecture practice should become more effective with experience.
Not simply more exhausted.
Build a practice that serves you
I’m Daniel Patterson, founder of the Architects’ Masterplan and author of Design for Money.
Through the Principal Architects community, I share practical ideas, tools and frameworks to help architecture practice owners improve profitability, strengthen their positioning and build businesses that support their ambitions.
If you’re a principal looking to build a more profitable, sought-after practice without compromising your standards, you’re welcome to join us.
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