Bridging the Divide between Architecture Education And on-Site Construction

Thomas Blount is a Senior Design Manager for a super-prime main contractor in central London with nearly a decade of experience in high-end design management. Returning to architecture school after this extensive industry background was never going to be straightforward. Thomas has coordinated projects ranging from £10 million to £150 million, including some of London’s most luxurious penthouses. He has worked with globally renowned architects, managed demanding clients and led construction teams through exceptionally detailed and complex builds.

So why return to studio crits and sketchbooks? I didn’t need the title to succeed. For me, becoming an architect is about reconnecting with design, reigniting creativity and understanding how ideas evolve into buildable architecture.

Design management offers control over detail but little space to create. Yet, moments spent shaping bespoke elements or solving design challenges reignited the ambition I’d set aside after completing my RIBA Part 1 in 2014. With Part 2 complete and Part 3 on the horizon, I’ve come to realise just how wide the gap is between architectural education and the realities of construction.

The Gap No One Talks About

Ten years on site taught me how buildings truly come together: the sequencing, coordination and hidden logic behind a façade. But when I began my RIBA Part 2, I found a world dominated by abstract narratives and speculative design. It was liberating, but worryingly disconnected.

Most graduates enter the industry with just two years of experience, usually in concept-heavy roles that expose them to RIBA Stages 0–3. But when they step onto site and into the world of RIBA Stages 4 and 5—where the real technical challenges begin—they’re fluent in visuals and representation, but completely out of their depth when it comes to technical knowledge and buildability.

The reality is, many architects spend the bulk of their early careers sitting behind a screen, drawing door schedules or wall build-ups, without ever setting foot on site. They might produce hundreds of drawings without understanding what they represent or how they get built. It creates a false sense of technical fluency that falls apart the moment you’re asked to explain how something is constructed in the real world.

Design management, by contrast, demands sharp technical awareness. You review drawings not just for aesthetics but for coordination, sequencing, fire compliance and procurement risks. You must know what’s buildable and what will delay a project months down the line.

Too often, creative ideas unravel under real-world scrutiny, not because they lacked vision but because no one questioned the details. That kind of knowledge comes from years on site and by learning the hard way. It’s not something you can rush and it’s certainly not something you’re taught in architecture school.

A Critique of the Architectural Education System

One tutor’s comment during a portfolio review summed up the disconnect between academia and practice:

“Your design process feels rigid and lacks the level of experimentation we expect in an academic setting.”

But that wasn’t a flaw; it was intentional. My project, a Craft Heritage and Innovation Centre at the Friars in Aylesford, prioritised buildability, sustainability and cultural sensitivity. It wasn’t abstract for theory’s sake; it was a real, viable proposal. Yet in the studio, this was misread as unimaginative.

Years on site have shaped how I approach architecture, through sequencing, coordination, materials and buildability. I wasn’t chasing poetic metaphors; I was designing something grounded and deliverable. Yet in academia, that pragmatism was treated as a limitation.

After seven years of training and nearly £100k in debt, graduates should leave with a clear understanding of how buildings go together. Instead, architectural education often prizes abstract narratives over construction knowledge, mistaking looseness for creativity while undervaluing technical precision. This culture doesn’t just fail students, it fails the profession.

The Power of Practical Knowledge

While I haven’t worked in a traditional architecture practice, my entire career has centred on delivery. As a design manager, I interrogate joinery details, review coordination drawings and translate design intent into construction reality. In many ways, I’ve become the bridge between imagination and execution, a role growing in importance as the industry embraces MMC, netzero targets and digital delivery.

This perspective, shaped by years on site, means I approach design with one key question: How will this be built? While others start with the concept, I begin with feasibility. How does the façade meet the substructure? Is the superstructure realistic? It’s a mindset that sharpens creativity but often feels out of place in academia, where buildability is treated as an afterthought.

Many graduates leave education without knowing the basics: sequencing, technical detailing, or even how to read a specification. It’s not a lack of intelligence, but of exposure and that’s a failure of the educational system, not the student.

Why the Apprenticeship Model Matters

This is why I chose the Level 7 Architect Apprenticeship, a fouryear, fully funded route combining Parts 2 and 3 with full-time work. I spend four days a week on live projects and one day in university. It’s intense but invaluable. Unlike the traditional two-year gap for practical experience, the apprenticeship integrates real-world exposure throughout.

Apprentices gain twice the industry minimum of site-based experience while earning and avoiding debt.

Yet from 2026, government funding for Level 7 apprenticeships will be withdrawn for those over 22. This is a terrible decision. It’s one of the few inclusive, experience-rich pathways into architecture, offering a debt-free qualification and greater on-site exposure than the condensed academic model. Experience can’t be rushed; it’s built through time and repetition. Cutting this pathway undermines the quality of future architects.

Reclaiming Architectural Education

For architecture to stay relevant we must stop treating concept and construction as separate disciplines; they’re two halves of the same process. Construction literacy must be embedded into every stage of training: sequencing, tolerances, value engineering and the RIBA Plan of Works should be core knowledge. Design management should be taught as a fundamental skill. Students need direct engagement with real sites, contractors and constraints, where live projects are critiqued not just by tutors but by those who build them.

As I work towards full qualification in summer 2026, I no longer see “architect” as the finish line; it’s just one step in a larger journey. Will we keep producing visions that collapse under reality? Or will we create architects who combine ambition with technical precision?

To students: don’t just design from your desk. Walk the site. Ask questions. Learn how things come together.

To educators: nurture imagination—but broaden the lens. Teach your students to think and to build, so they graduate ready to step into practice as fully prepared, competent chartered architects.

And to the profession: if we want architecture to serve both people and planet, we must close the gap between studio and site—and start equipping future architects with the knowledge and experience they need to build that future for good.