Complicity and Conviction: Steps toward an Architecture of Convention

I dusted off one of the old books from my collection this weekend. I originally found Complicity and Conviction: Steps toward an Architecture of Convention by retired architect and M.I.T. professor William Hubbard a challenge to read. By the time I purchased it in 1981, both Charles W. Moore and Bill Kleinsasser, among others, had lauded Complicity and Conviction. Charles regarded it as “the most illuminating and convincing description of what architecture is really about,” while Bill directly excerpted quotes for inclusion in his textbook SYNTHESIS. So, I was determined to give it another go, but I immediately struggled with it again.

If I understand Hubbard’s thesis correctly, Complicity and Conviction was his critique of contemporary architecture at the height of the 1970s-1980s modernism vs. post-modernism debate. Specifically, he perceived a failure of nerve within both ideologies, which imposed restrictive forms on individuals, ones shaped by extra-personal forces rather than evolving from human volition. According to Hubbard, this imposition not only threatened the creative essence of architecture but also the embodiment of essential human values in built structures.

The book’s central argument revolved around the need to rescue architecture from this failure of nerve stemming from the detachment between architectural form and human values. Hubbard proposed applying the notion of conventions to architecture, positioning them not as mindless habits but as pragmatic tools for giving concrete form to shared human values.

He explored three systems of conventions—games, typography, and the law—to illustrate how structured rules and conventions can embody human values. Despite the potential for these conventions to be different, Hubbard argued that society willingly accepts and gives complicity to them, convinced of their rightness. He extended these principles to propose strategies for producing architecture that actively engages with and reflects human concerns.

The Lawn, University of Virginia (photo by Phil Roeder, CC BY 2.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0>, via Wikimedia Commons)

Kresge College (photo by Ponderosapine210, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons)

To illustrate his point, Hubbard presented two building projects he considered successful: Thomas Jefferson's Lawn at the University of Virginia and Kresge College at the University of California at Santa Cruz by MLTW. Hubbard presented the two as tangible examples of how architecture can embody convention as a design strategy. Specifically, he analyzed how both share characteristics that embody  ideals, build upon an esteem for past works and conventions, and widen the range of ways we experience built forms.

The book’s closing chapter analyzed additional projects by renowned contemporary architects (among them Robert Venturi, Philip Johnson, Michael Graves, Richard Meier, and Peter Eisenman) revealing specific ways in which Hubbard believed their work both supported and challenged prevailing convictions about architecture.

The interdisciplinary approach of Complicity and Conviction, drawing inspiration from unconventional sources like scenographic architecture, typography, games, and laws, did nothing if not underscore the complexity of Hubbard's argument. For example, his correlation of the convention of games with architecture, emphasizing unconscious patterns in how individuals navigate built environments, was a useful and creative means to support his primary tenet.

A reason why I continue to find Complicity and Conviction challenging to read was Hubbard’s tendency toward labyrinthine prose and profound convolution; here’s a case in point:

“But in order to use buildings in this way we must open up our attitudes about unconsciously enacted patterns. We must avoid both the putatively humanistic attitude that confers esteem upon any pattern that results from human action, as well as the seemingly scientific attitude that denies the worth of any pattern that is other than the one consciously intended by the actor. For when we make such blanket judgments beforehand, we abdicate our freedom by surrendering our capacity to make decisions to a standard outside the direct control of our will. What we want is the ability to stand as free critics of our own actions, to judge our own actions on the basis of our reaction to the consequences those actions are likely to produce. To do that, we need to know the unseen connections between what we do and what eventually happens. To disclose those unseen connections is, I think, the proper role of analysis. Analysis ought to arm us with that knowledge so that we can decide which of our actions we want to keep up, which we want to stop, even which ones we might want to adopt from other circumstances. But what standard of judgment can we use to make such decisions? Quite apart from finding a standard we can agree upon, what standard of judgment could avoid that surrender of the other, “beforehand” standards?”

You get the picture.

Complicity and Conviction is a difficult read, but it offers rewards to those who are willing to invest the necessary time and effort. It most definitely demanded my careful attention and multiple readings to fully grasp. Would I prefer that Hubbard’s writing style was simpler and more accessible? Yes, but perhaps having to actively participate in the process of understanding and interpreting the text was the point. Perhaps Hubbard wanted his readers to engage more thoroughly, rather than compromising the depth of his philosophical exploration.

On balance, Complicity and Conviction is a significant work because at the time of its publishing it did help prompt a reconsideration of the intersection between architectural ideologies and human values. Hubbard's dispassionate analysis of modernism and postmodernism's impact on architecture served as a valuable contribution to the ongoing discourse in the field. The book's exploration of unconventional perspectives, coupled with an emphasis on the influence of external domains, positioned it as a thought-provoking work within the realm of architectural criticism and theory.