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When we invited the architect Norman Day to do today's -ISM in Art, we thought he might come up with something like constructivism, or brutalism, or neoclassicism. But what he's chosen is more of a malaise than a movement and it applies not just to architecture but to almost any human endeavour where specialists are involved.

Norman Day is a practising architect, adjunct professor of architecture at RMIT, and architecture writer for The Age.

Transcript

Norman Day: When we think about it, to profess something means not necessarily that it is right. The claim could be wrong, based more on belief than truth, or it simply could be an attitude that sets apart someone from the others—like first class in the transport industry.

Professionalism as it now works, usually means someone is trained to do something others cannot, so they are isolated into a world of speciality, and charge for it.

In practice, I think the trait of professionalism has become a sort of simple test, where the boxes get ticked, multiple choice problems get knee-jerk solutions and creative thinking is numbed—or dumbed—down.

This is no longer a period of the know-all Renaissance person of course. We can't possibly all be a doctor, scientist, mathematician, architect, painter and writer—at the same time. There is simply too much knowledge available these days for our little brains to absorb—although we are told there is plenty of unused space in the cranium. But there is something comforting about someone whose knowledge is wide spread, whose experiences are varied, who is genuinely creative and whose inquistiveness is unbounded. They may not exhibit traits of a true Modern professionalist.

But I believe the world would be better placed if we had people making decisions about our future whose expertise was global and whose understanding was more universal. Simple matters come to mind.

Melbourne is growing at an alarming rate, which suits me, I like big cities. But we are not planning well for it. There are professional economists, planners, soothsayers, politicians, transporters and housing experts—all professing their section of knowledge about what we should be doing.
There are also professional objectors, conservatives, radicals and scaremongers who will warn us against change as an idea.

What we need is a creative inclusivist who can take on all these challenges and make sense of them—and preferably someone who is not professional.
A broad-ranger would not seek the solace of the miserable professional. There would be no reliance on secret language and codes of conduct, no specialist book of secret remedies, none of the chicanery of special herbs and spices and pricey witchcraft cures.

The thinking would be sensible.
The language would be plain English.
The creativity would be mind-blowing.

Story Researcher and Producer

Suzanne Donisthorpe