Strategic Choices in Unknowable
Worlds
Preparing for Success in Architectural Competitions
Kristian Kreiner
Center for ledelse i byggeriet
Center for Management Studies of the Building Process
January 2007
Strategic Choices in Unknowable Worlds:
Preparing for Success in Architectural Competitions
This paper explores ways in which the strategies that guide architects in
architectural competitions may be evaluated ex ante. It starts by constructing a
simulation model that shows that ex ante evaluations of strategies are in
principle possible. In spite of the fundamentally stochastic nature of the model,
we are able to differentiate stable patterns in the aggregate performance. On
certain criteria, and in the long run, one strategy outperforms alternative
strategies. However, the foundation for such ex ante evaluations in unknowable
worlds must be statistical, not causal.
A simulation model has no real-life validity, but it may get real-life relevance by
raising questions to empirical cases. The simulation model raises at least the
following types of questions to empirical studies of architectural competitions:
(1) What, in particular, makes the outcome of architectural competitions
stochastic? (2) What are the strategic alternatives that compete for primacy in
architectural firms? 3) What is the equivalent of aggregate performance for
architectural firms facing single architectural competitions in the real world? Only
when such questions can be answered, we can claim to the simulation results
are of relevance to our understanding of architectural competitions as an
empirical phenomenon.
We present an empirical case-study of architectural competitions. In this paper
we concentrate on answering the first question in great detail. We show in some
details that preparing an entry to an architectural competition is subject to
Knightian
uncertainty.
The
outcome
of
each
individual
competition
is
unpredictable, and there is nothing that the architectural team can do at the
time of preparing the entry to enhance the chance of winning. All they can do is
to prepare for the unpredictable future situation of winning the competition.
Architectural teams may still control with which entries they will unpredictably
win competitions. Such preparations for appearing as winner are the locus of
strategizing of architectural teams.
The concluding discussion draws some implications for the notion of strategy if
strategizing shall be meaningful in unknowable worlds.
THE PHENOMENON: ARCHITECTURAL COMPETITIONS
An architectural competition is one of the ways in which architectural firm are
selected in the market for design services. Its use varies from country to
country, and from industry to industry. Architectural competitions come in many
forms. We focus on one conventional type that can be characterized as single,
sealed bid, invited tender competitions:
ƒ
ƒ
ƒ
ƒ
Single competitions: Each competition is organized individually, with a
unique task and a unique cast of participants. Each architectural firm has
one, and only one “shot” in making an entry. All entries are made at the
same time. No feedback prior to, and no change after the entry is
allowed. Because iterations and negotiations are impossible, uncertainty
is significant and persisting.
Sealed bid: The architectural firms submit their entries anonymously.
Thus, the reputation and status of the architectural firms are not allowed
to influence the outcome of the competition. The final selection should be
made entirely on the merits of the entries; strictly speaking, it is not the
architectural firms, but their design entries that compete. Anonymity is a
safeguard against favouritism and biases on the part of the jury.
Invited competitions: The client selects a few architectural firms to
participate in the competition. The clients’ motives and strategies in
connection with the selection of architectural firms for the competition
have, to our knowledge, never been studied.
Tender competitions: Each entry represents a proposed solution to the
design task that the client has defined as the basis for the competition. It
should be noted that it is not a price competition, since the value of the
design contract to the winning architectural firm is determined by
common tariffs. It is rather a competition on creativity and aesthetics.
Since design technology is very unclear, the design process being
informal and intuitive in character (Simon, 1996), the competition will
likely produce a variety of solutions from which the client and the jury can
select the winner. To produce decision alternatives is the very rationale
for organizing architectural competitions and the rationale of design work
in the first place (Boland & Collopy, 2004). The variety is further
enhanced by the design task being significantly underspecified (Weick,
2003).
The literature on tendering strategy and practice is focused on price competition
(e.g. Runeson & Skitmore, 1999; Yiu & Tam, 2006; Fayek, 1998; Fu, Drew, &
Lo, 2003; Chua & Li, 2000; Chua, Li, & Chan, 2001) even if lowest-price is not
always the ultimate selection criterion (Perng, Juan, & Chien, 2006; Wong, Holt,
& Cooper, 2000). While of general interest and inspiration, this literature offers
little help in describing and understanding architectural competitions because its
3
focus is not on the creativity and quality of the tenders. To our knowledge these
architectural competitions have never been studied empirically.
THREE ROLES AND THREE MILESTONES IN ARCHITECTURAL COMPETITIONS1
The most important roles in architectural competitions are the client, the
architectural firm, and the jury. The client is often an organization, and it is
represented at the competitions by the management, user groups, hired
consultants etc. The architectural firm is represented by a small team of
predominantly architects. In typically very intensive processes they prepare their
design entries right up to the deadline. In spite of the stressfulness of the
process, it is commonly considered prestigious to be on a competition team. The
jury consists of client representatives, professional architects appointed by the
Architects’ Association, and other experts invited to participate as adjunct
members. The jury is headed by a representative of the Archictects’ Association
to ensure a fair competition and to maintain the anonymity of the entries until a
winner has been selected, and the final report has been signed.
There are three important milestones in the implementation of the architectural
competition. The brief describes the type of need that the client is soliciting
architectural services to fulfil. It constitutes the formal framework for the
competition, and its format is highly regulated:
The competition brief must be clear and unambiguous.
Competition brief requirements must be presented in such a way
that it is clearly specified which requirements are mandatory. The
requirements must be formulated in such a way that entrants are
given as free a hand as possible in their preparation of
entries.(http://www.arkitektforeningen.dk/aa/uk/Competitions)
Clear and unambiguous without stifling the architectural creativity – that seems
to be the potentially contradictory requirements that the brief must fulfill. We will
see below how such requirements are enacted in practice.
The entries are the proposed solutions to the design task defined in the
competition brief. The format of an entry is defined in the brief, but will normally
included posters and illustrated text. Occasionally, physical models are also
admissible. The comparison across supposedly very different entries is to some
extent facilitated by the standardization of the format of the entries.
1
The description is based on rules and regulations in Denmark. However, the specifically Danish rules for
architectural competitions are irrelevant to the argument since they only represent one way of coping
with the general dilemmas of architectural competitions as a general phenomenon.
4
The choice of the winner is the final milestone. A few runner-ups may also be
announced. The decision is communicated in the form of an extensive written
assessment of each entry. The criteria for selecting the winner are to be stated
explicitly in the assessments.
The jury must prepare a report, which must be signed by all the
members of the jury. … The report must include an account of the
assessment process, the jury's general remarks about the entries
as well as the criteria applied by the jury in its assessment of the
entries, including the criteria used in the selection of the winning
entry. The report must also state the reasons for the choice of
each of the prize-winning entries and any other prizes awarded. In
restricted competitions the jury must prepare a written
assessment of all entries.
(http://www.arkitektforeningen.dk/aa/uk/Competitions)
SUMMARY
The general characteristics of architectural competitions have briefly been
described. Architectural competitions are discrete events, organized anew every
time. The competition is defined in a brief that strikes a balance between giving
direction and not stifling the creativity of architectural teams. The contestants
are invited and work in parallel and in isolation, even form the client, until they
submit their entries anonymously. The jury receives the anonymous entries and
picks the winner on criteria to be specified in the final report.
No doubt, such rules and regulations are meant to ensure a fair competition. But
it results in a design task that is seriously underspecified, making lots of room
for architectural creativity and innovation, which makes the subsequent
evaluation and picking of a winner more difficult. It also increases the level of
uncertainty of architectural teams because they all are made to operate on the
same restricted and minimal amount of information. Strategizing seems an
unavoidable element, but also a complicated element, in preparing an entry for
an architectural competition.
5
THE STRATEGY PHENOMENON
According to McGee (2005), most classical definitions of strategy build on
notions of choice and trades-offs but neglect the uncertainty, complexity and
situational specificity that most organizations face. Strategy “is essentially about
the future but quintessentially about that part of the future about which there is
uncertainty. … [It] follows that strategy is essentially about taking risk,” says
McGee (2005, p.336). In other words, strategy involves making choices and
exercising judgments subject to error. Otherwise, uncertainty would not pervade
the situations and the choices not qualify as strategic.
Clearly, the classical conception of strategy has been seriously attacked. Not
least Henry Mintzberg has nuanced popular beliefs by supplementing the
predominantly prescriptively oriented strategy schools with several descriptively
oriented schools (see e.g. Mintzberg, 2004; Mintzberg, 1990; Mintzberg,
Ahlstrand, & Lampel, 1998). Strategy as a process, rather than as an outcome,
has generally come in focus, probably as an effect of the acknowledged
difficulties of making meaningful guesses about an uncertain future. Thus, if
choosing the future rationally is not an option, the processes by which we
actually make strategic choices become salient to understand. Focus has moved
from outcome rationality to procedural rationality (March, 1988; 1994).
However, an ex ante strategy evaluation necessitates a return to the notion of
choice between alternatives. If strategy is merely something that emerges from
processes, located in time and space, it can only be observed ex post and can
therefore neither be assessed nor chosen ex ante. But in returning to the notion
of choice of strategy we should not abandon the presumptions that the future is
fundamentally uncertain and that choices involve judgments subject to error. A
good strategy, as evaluated ex ante, can never promise or guarantee a good
outcome, as evaluated ex post. To insist that the latter is the criteria for the
former would betray the premises of our inquiry. We cannot assume a simple or
direct causal link between the strategic choice and the subsequently experienced
outcome.
Our tentative proposal for a way out is to make the necessary judgments subject
to choice! Normally, we maintain that choices are based on judgments, often
biased and unwitting judgments. But judgments could be chosen explicitly – and
possibly strategically. The effect of subjecting judgments to choice is twofold.
First, it requires the entertainment of at least two alternative judgments or
6
presumptions – otherwise, there would not be a choice. Secondly, the existence
of a choice of presumptions – and the necessity choosing between competing
presumptions - makes actors aware of the uncertain foundation of the actions
and interpretations. To act we must necessarily make assumptions about a
future which is fundamentally unknowable. We may choose judgments, or
presumptions, on the basis of how they prepare ourselves for meeting a future
which is unknowable. It is like choosing on which side of the bed to get out in
the morning. It is a kind of positioning-school-strategy: not a choice of the
ultimate and desired position, but of the opening position from where to engage
in the future as it unfolds.
Let us illustrate this notion of strategic choice in relation to the case of
architectural competitions. Imagine that architectural team may conceive of the
client in one of two ways. Either they assume that the client organization knows
what it wants, however vaguely it has managed to describe it in the competition
brief. Such an assumption would goad the architectural team heedfully to
uncover the client’s explicit and implicit preferences and translate these into its
design. Alternatively, the architectural team may assume that the client’s
preferences are not necessarily clear and stable. This would goad the
architectural team to design distinct solutions in the hope that the client will
acquire a taste for them. The two alternative presumptive descriptions of the
client call upon the architectural team to act in different manners. Both
descriptions make intuitive sense, and one is not more correct than the other.
Subsequently, one is made more correct than the other by the acts of the client
and the jury. It is precisely because we cannot know what they will do when
what they will do determines the validity of our presumptions that the
uncertainty is so pervasive. If our presumptions are made wrong, we will lose
the competition; if they are made correct we will likely win. The uncertainty is
Knightian because the events that will determine our fate have not yet
happened. We cannot know in advance, and we cannot estimate the likelihood of
events that will make clients and juries change their minds. And yet, we do not
think that it doesn’t matter what architectural teams do and what presumptions
they choose to operate on.
7
THE SIMULATION MODEL
The simulation model is simple one and programmed in EXCEL. It makes eight
architectural firms compete with each other in single, but repeated competitions.
In total, each simulation consists of 50 competitions, and the simulation is run
ten times.
For each architectural firm, in each competition, a random number between 0
and 1 is generated. The random number (the score) expresses the achieved
level of performance of the architectural team, as measured relative to their
individual aspirations. We assume that each team can be characterized by a
stable architectural aspiration level. A high random number means that the
realized performance in that particular competition is close to the aspired
performance. Designing being an uncertain technology, aspirations do not
translate directly into achievements. We imagine that sometimes the team
performs better than other times.
However, in order to select a winner the individual performances must be ranked
on a common scale – the scale of the jury. How do we project individual
performances onto the common scale of the jury? Imagine that architectural
aspirations can be defined relative to the design task as it can be deduced from
the competition brief. It must be assumed that the brief is very ambiguous and
that the task in general is much underspecified. Thus, there is uncertainty about
the evaluation even if the architectural team faithfully tries to implement the
brief. However, some architectural teams may have other aspirations than to
implement the preferences of the client as they are expressed in the brief. For
example, they may try to teach the client organization about its ‘true’ needs.
They may take the brief as point of departure, but then depart from it in more or
less radical ways. Remember that also in this case aspirations do not determine
the performance. Even with an aspiration to improve on and depart from the
brief the team may end up with an entry that in the view of the jury is nothing
but an implementation of the brief.
However, if a team succeeds in departing from the brief as judged by the jury it
will either be praised or penalized for it. There is no reason to believe that
architectural teams and the jury will always agree on what constitutes
improvements and what inadmissible deviation from the brief. Clients and juries
may be more or less resisting changes in their original understanding of needs
and requirements. In the model, we assume substantial resistance. It is
8
expressed in the fact that we make it three times more likely that a deviance
from the brief will be penalized than it will be praised.
The choice of level of aspiration for each architectural team can now be
translated into a unique probability distribution over possible performance
outcomes. Teams with an aspiration of implementing the brief of the competition
will face a probability distribution which is highly concentrated around the middle
of the performance scale. Teams with an aspiration of departing from the brief
will face a much less concentrated, and a much more skewed distribution, having
a lower expected performance than the brief-focused teams.
We assume that each team can be characterized by a unique probability
distribution over performance outcomes. See Appendix 1 for a graphical
illustration of the distributions. We interpret this distribution as a strategic
choice. How much is one willing to depart from the brief, trusting that the client
and the jury will adapt the rules to make the deviating entry the winner? We can
imagine such a choice being made. We let such strategic choices compete
repeatedly in the simulation model. We will make reference to the two strategies
as brief-focused and solution-focused.
We can now project the individual scores (the random numbers) on to the
common performance by interpreting them in view of the individual probability
distributions. A random number of .5 will translate into a higher achieved
performance for a brief-focussed team than for a solution-focused team. A high
random number will translate into a higher achievement performance for the
solution-focused team than for a brief-focused team.
The model assumes that exits and entries do not occur. Importantly, no learning
takes place. Strategies are constant, as is the client’s resistance to departing
from the brief, in all simulated competitions and in all runs of the simulation. The
only source of variation is the randomly generated individual performances of
the architectural teams.
RESULTS
The results are presented in Appendix 1. If we adopt the perspective of the most
solution-focused architectural firm (Architect8), we can conclude that in the long
run it will not win significantly more or less competitions than its more brieffocused competitors. From run to run of the simulation there is great variability
on the strategy that comes out as the most winning one. Across the runs, the
9
variability levels off. We conclude that the randomness of the simulated
competitions dominates whatever strategies the firms choose to adopt.
However, while the number of wins do not differ systematically, the character of
the wins do! The entries with which the more solution-focused architectural firms
win are systematically at a higher performance level. That is, they depart much
from the brief and prior expectations in a positive direction. The projects they
end up spending their time and resources on will on average have a higher “thrill
factor”.2 It must be expected that these wins are highly praised by the jury and
the client – besides being a reflection of the team’s relatively uncompromised
enactment of their architectural competence and ethos. The ‘thrill factor’ is hard
to neglect when the volume of work and the compensation for such work cannot
be influenced by strategic choice.
On the basis of the simulation results, we claim to be able to make an ex ante
evaluation of the strategies that compete in the model. An architecturally more
solution-focused competition strategy will, in the long run, outperform a more
brief-focused strategy. We claim that in the simulation model we can find
support for the claim that if clients and juries can be shown to be less than
100% committed to the brief – and thus occasionally amenable to new design
ideas and premises – if will pay to make such a presumptive description and act
as if it was generally true, even if we know that it is not always true!
The results of the simulation model have intuitive appeal. There is no way for an
architectural team to strategize rationally on winning the competition. Winning is
only indirectly related to own performance. It also depends on the performance
of the competitors (March, 1999; Ryle, 2000) and on the jury’s decisions to
change the criteria of the competition in view of specific entries. Since the other
competitors’ entries cannot be known in advance, as the jury’s decision cannot
be, it is pure guesswork to rationally aim at a specific outcome. No matter what
one does and decides, unpredictably one will win and lose competitions.
However, the architectural firm can to a certain extent determine with what
entries it competes – and ‘risks’ to win on. What one considers mediocre
solutions, but in good agreement with the competition brief, one may end up
having to justify and spend further resources on, should one win the
competition. It seems possible to prevent, or at least to make less likely, to win
2
To be sure, not all wins even for the ambitious firm have high thrill factors. Occasionally, these firms
will win with even pedestrian entries, provided that the competitors do even worse.
10
competitions that one would rather not have won. To a large extent, one may be
able to ensure that all entries are designs that the architectural firm would see
an interest in working on should the win the competition. Such a situation would
be more likely if the architectural team pursues a solution-focused strategy. And
since the number of wins, and thus the volume of work, possibly is very little
influenced by such choices the insurance against winning with bad entries is
almost free.
CONCLUSION
We have simulated the unknowable reality in a model in which all realized
performances are randomly determined, and in which competition strategies are
chosen. The competition strategies may potentially be rationally chosen, and
such a suggestion is highly surprising in view of our presumption that the future
is unknowable. However, the explanation is simple. The strategy does not aim or
pretend to foretell and control that future which is unknowable and outside the
reach of the individual architectural team. The strategy aims to prepare for the
eventuality that the team might win the competition. Should they win (which is
the unpredictable part) they would win with entries that they would likely want
to spend their limited resources on implementing, and that would likely reflect
nicely on their reputation from favourable reviews in newspapers and trade
journals. A solution-focused strategy seems to make it much more likely that the
wins will be attractive to the architectural firm, even when it is impossible to
predict such wins. Such a strategy will consequently prepare the architectural
firm better for the success (and luck) of winning architectural competitions.
Our discussion may be summarized by the famous truism by Pasteur, “… by
chance you will say, but chance only favors the mind which is prepared” (Eigen &
Siegel, 1997: p.147). The architectural teams win by chance, but winning has
not the same effect on all of them. Some have engineered the participation in
such a way that their winning entries are, by common consent3, of high quality.
Others may win as often but may more often face the situation of having to
implement a design that meets the client’s expectations but does not express
high architectural virtue. Preparing in such a way as to be favoured by chance
seems a good a strategy also in architectural competitions.
3
Note that these solution-focused teams only win if and when the client and the jury appreciate the
deviant solution.
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STUDYING ARCHITECTURAL COMPETITIONS EMPIRICALLY
Before we can claim that the ex ante evaluation of competition strategies in the
simulation model has any relevance in the real world, we need to relate the
assumptions on which the model is built to the character of actual architectural
competitions. We will first describe the methodology of our empirical studies.
Then we will give a few characteristics of the type of architectural competitions
that we have studied.
METHODOLOGY
The empirical study builds on several types of data. First, we conducted an
ethnographic study in one of the participating architectural practices. We
observed the team of architects while preparing the entry to another competition
than the one discussed here. This ethnographic study provided us with a set of
observations and understandings that served as tacit knowledge for the
subsequent case study. It informed the types of questions asked and guided the
discussions with the participating architects.
Secondly, we conducted interviews with three of the eight participating
architectural practices. The three were selected for pragmatic reasons, primarily
for ease of access. The winning architectural practice was among the three
interviewed
ones.
All
three
were
seasoned
participants
in
architectural
competitions and belonged to the absolute architectural elite; competitions were
the main (and preferred) method of job acquisition for all of them. All three had
worked for the client on previous occasions.
We interviewed the CEO and the partner responsible for this particular
competition in all three architectural practices. In one case, we also interviewed
a member of the design team. All interviews were tape recorded and
subsequently transcribed. An interview guide was developed, mainly specifying
the themes to be covered. These main themes were the reconstruction of the
design process, a self-assessment of the entry, and the interpretation and
evaluation of the competition result.
Thirdly, CEOs and partners participated in a full-day seminar, at which we
presented our preliminary observations and analyses. This seminar was also tape
recorded and transcribed. The discussion across the architectural firms provided
new data, and their reactions to our presentations allowed us to triangulate and
calibrate our accounts and understandings.
12
Fourthly, the author was an ordinary member of the jury. All written material
concerning the competition, the brief, the queries, the competition entries, and
the final report of the jury were automatically available. The author was present
at all formal meeting of the jury. The deliberations were highly confidential and
we were not granted permission to make tape-recordings from the meetings.
The research interest in the process was made generally known, but primarily
the author enacted the role of a jury member. For reasons of confidentiality,
references will not be made to the jury’s decision-making processes. However,
the author’s
participation
made possible a more informed reading and
interpretation of the publicly available documents, not least the brief and the
jury’s final report.
Informed readings and interpretations may also be biased readings and
interpretations. However, the author had no particular stake in the eventual
outcome of the competition. He lacked sufficient expertise to have strong
preferences in architectural or aesthetic matters. He did not hold any managerial
position in the client organization and had no political aims to serve. While
actively participating in the jury’s discussion, the author incurred no formal or
informal obligation to justify or denounce the final decision of the jury.
The problems in interviewing people after the fact, when the result of the
competition is already known, must be acknowledged (Fischhoff, 1975).
Accounts and rationalizations may take colour from the joys of winning and the
disappointments of losing. However, all three firms were accustomed to both
winning and losing, and little resentment and bitterness could be noticed in the
analyses of their own and the competitors’ performance. The emotional
engagement seemed much higher in the process of preparing the entry than in
the process of learning from the experience.
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STOCHASTIC MODELS AND UNKNOWABLE REALITIES
The subsequent discussion is based on the abovementioned case-study of an
architectural competition. The client is a university, and eight well-reputed
architectural firms participate in the competition. The design task is to
reconstruct an existing building in an old industrial complex into a modern
university facility. A full account of the case-study is available at www.clibyg.org.
Here we only give a few highlights from the study, selected to support the
argument of the present paper. Specifically, we seek evidence for the existence
of an empirical equivalent to the stochastically determined performance
outcomes in the simulation model.
THE ROLE OF RANDOMNESS IN ARCHITECTURAL COMPETITIONS
Two sets of findings lend support to the randomness thesis: the rules of the
competition are retrospectively defined; the assessments of the individual
entries are characterized by fundamental interpretive flexibility. However, such
conjectures face the obvious objection that an elaborate competition brief exists
which supposedly defines and frames the competitions. Let us, therefore,
analyze the brief in our case-study to test the sensibility of our opening
conjecture.
The competition brief:
The competition brief is a 15 page document, prepared by the client and his
many professional and legal advisors.4 The brief is intended to play a central role
in the competition as it defines the task, channels and inspires the architects’
creative work, and establishes the assessment criteria for selecting the winner.
The competition brief should be both unambiguous and non-constraining, a
requirement which may sound paradoxical at first, but which may reflect the
desire to define a clearly delimitated, yet extensive solution space for the
architects to explore. Thus, the brief reads as half instruction, half inspiration.
The instructions provide a sense of direction and a trust in the competition as
rule based and fair. The inspirational sections encourage and motivate the
architects to explore the whole playing field. Such encouragement and
motivation to think beyond constraints may be warranted especially in
4
All advisors are acknowledged in the brief.
14
connection with renovations of existing building premises where physical
constraints may also constrain imagination.
The competition brief will be analysed in terms of three inherent tensions and
ambiguities: ‘form versus function’; ‘tradition versus change’; and ‘requirement
versus suggestion’.
Form versus Function
Organizations strive to fulfil a mission and the buildings they inhabit are
supposedly designed to facilitate such strivings. The competition brief supports
the idea that form should follow function. It describes the client organization as a
university with research, teaching and administration as its functions. Further, it
indicates how the university is carrying out these functions, in that the brief
states,
[The building] should support and encourage social and
professional sparring and become a place where informal learning
processes take place. (Competition Brief, p. 6 – author’s
translation)
In the supporting text the main concepts are flexibility, transparency, and
adaptability. The physical structures should not block the free flow of interaction
and communication. It should allow the easy change between different uses of
the space. It should be prepared for current as well as future uses. It should help
integrate teaching and research, but also provide space for quiet, contemplative
work for staff and students.
Flexibility, transparency, and adaptability; future as well as current functions;
research, teaching, administration – even social functions – in unspecified
proportions; if there is a meta-message here it is probably that form (the
building) should not interfere with function, or should be loosely coupled to
function (the work of the organization). The use of the space had simply not
been decided at the time of the competition, and the design should put as few
restrictions on the subsequent allocation of functions within the building. There is
also the message that the traditional design strategy of physically separating
concurrent, but conflicting activities (e.g. communication and contemplation) is
not a good strategy in the present case.
There is an alternative reading of the competition brief, however. The description
in the brief of life at a university is clearly closer to the way people want
universities to function than to the way they actually function. The brief, as well
15
as the building, may serve also an expressive function, projecting an image of a
modern, open, flexible and experimenting organization. The text indicates this,
The desire is for an architecturally striking reconstruction. … The
architecture should reflect that it is a dynamic teaching and
research institution where knowledge is created and taught in
close interaction with the business world and the international
community. (Competition Brief, p. 6 – author’s translation)
The point here is not to suggest that the university is not such an organization.
However, no matter the reality the brief requests that the building ‘projects’ such
an image. Thus, the building design should also facilitate a certain amount of
impression management (Goffman, 1959).
Continuity versus Change
Another classical tension is the tension between references to the past and
references to the future. In the previous section the brief seems to encourage
change over continuity. However, preservation regulations apply to the building.
The brief specifies, however, that these regulations are primarily aimed at other
buildings in the immediate surroundings. Thus, the regulations are not fully
binding and the brief states e.g.:
We invite designs of the building facades in materials that in
character either is in harmony with the surrounding built
environment … or deviates distinctly from it. Likewise, we invite a
redesign of the top floor … However, if the roof is changed, its
form must maintain resemblance to the surrounding buildings.
(Competition Brief, p. 6 – author’s translation)
The tension is also operationalized in terms of context. The building is a part of
the historical industrial complex, but is also neighbouring a large public park. It
is more than suggested that the possibility for re-contextualizing the building
should be explored. The part of the building facing the park is suggested to be
opened up to create a “visual connection” between the park and activities inside
the building. The embedding of the building in multiple, radically different
contexts is an architectural challenge and opportunity.
Requirements versus Inspirations
The rules and regulations of architectural competitions require that the brief
explicates which requirements are meant to be mandatory. Few such mandatory
requirements and directives are noticeable in the brief. Most requirements are
16
defined more as challenges and inspirations. The language is one of suggestions,
ideas, illustrations, etc. This vagueness is explicitly rationalized as follows,
The purpose of refraining from defining mandatory requirements is
to encourage visionary solutions which [the winner] in
collaboration with the client can develop into a specific floor space
plan … (Competition Brief, p. 9 – author’s translation)
Immediately following this statement an elaborate floor space plan is given as
illustration. Explicitly, it is written that the plan should serve only
as inspiration and is neither complete nor binding for the entries.
(Competition Brief, p. 9 – author’s translation).
We have to go to the more legal, engineering, technical and economic aspects of
the project to find mandatory requirements. Thus, entries should observe all
laws and regulations; they should optimize working conditions for people in the
building in terms of daylight, heat, ventilation and comfort; they should optimize
operating costs and energy savings; and they should select solutions that ensure
environmental sustainability.
Summary
It is the apparent message of the brief that the competition is fairly open-ended
and that imagination, exploration and experimentation will be favoured. The
brief is less directing than it is challenging, possible because there is much
direction in the existing building in itself. It appeals to the architects to exercise
sound judgment on fundamental questions such as the current and future uses
of
the
premises,
the
importance
of
the building’s
history
and
current
surroundings, and proper design premises.
Retrospectively Defined Competition Rules
As described above, the brief encouraged experimentation and challenged the
architects to exercise judgments on their own. It enumerated a number of
tensions that would have to be resolved in the design. It also gave various
illustrations of functions, space uses etc. Now it is time to see how the jury
responds to the variety of designs and solutions on this underspecified task.
Intuitively one may think that the underspecified tasks give the jury more
leeway in picking a winner. However, probably the lack of mandatory
requirements in the brief made the task of legitimately selecting the winner
harder. Legitimacy is important also for legal and reputational reasons. The
competition should appear fair and the decision should be accountable. Strictly
17
speaking, criteria that were not defined in the brief should not be invoked at a
later stage. But given the nature of things, that is exactly what must be done in
order to be able to explain and select the winner. Not in the sense that they are
necessarily foreign to the brief, but in the sense that the jury learns about its
preferences and priorities between the conflicting demands from seeing the
concrete implementations in the designs.
The following illustration demonstrates the fundamental truth that you only know
what you want when you see what you can get. In the case study, the brief
acknowledged the conflicting interests in preserving the industrial-era-landmark
and in creating a flexible building for the university. Some internal silo structures
in the existing building will have to be taken down, in full or in part. It is implied
in the brief that experimentation with the balance between the two interests is
welcomed. However, when evaluating the entries, it became clear that the two
architects who chose to maintain parts of these silo structures were blamed for
the lack of flexibility. The attempts are recognized, but the solutions are not
appreciated. Thus, the legitimacy of the competition is not undermined, because
the design strategy is not dismissed on the basis of the preservation principle,
but on its implication on other elements. If only now it appears that flexibility is
more important than preservation, contestants might argue that such a priority
should have been written into the brief. However, it would be incorrect for two
reasons. First, the client obviously wanted to encourage experimentation with
where to put the balance between the two conflicting interests and concerns.
Closing the options too early would reduce the possibility of learning from
experimentation. Secondly, the prioritization was made on the basis of the
entries and the demonstration of the implications of putting the balance in
different places. From the specific solutions the client and the jury learnt about
the trade-off between preservation and flexibility, and on the basis of this tradeoff the decision to favour flexibility over preservation was quite rational and fair.
Let us consider another illustration of the same mechanism of resolving the
dilemmas in the brief. Above we quoted the brief to ask for an “architecturally
striking reconstruction”. What exactly this implies is of course open to
interpretation. In one case it was interpreted in the following manner,
… when we read the brief we got the impression that we were
dealing with a client who wanted things a little differently … to
send a strong signal … so that you at a long distance could tell that
here something really new is happening. (Interview transcripts –
author’s translation)
18
This is not a farfetched interpretation, and the quoted architect introduced some
strongly coloured elements that significantly restructured the facades. Only to
discover later, of course, that these coloured elements were perceived as
“disturbing”, “foreign” and “superfluous”. Again, we will claim that it was the
specific operationalization of the expressive intent that failed to appeal to the
jury. The trade-off between expressiveness and preservation became clearer to
the jury from seeing the costs of this form of signalling architecture.
In conclusion, the selection criteria are conflicting and underspecified in the
brief, but implicitly they become defined also in terms of the trade-offs in the
course of the negotiations in the jury. They are not openly discussed and decided
in this way – they grow out from interpreting and assessing the individual
entries.
But there are other implicit choices that facilitate the process of selecting a
winner.
The Interpretation of Design Inadequacies
In architectural competitions the design entries are imagined to be ideational
and conceptual, while the detailed designing and programming takes place in
subsequent stages. This fact results in two sources of uncertainty and in a need
to make additional judgements. Because the design entries are meant to be
tentative, adjustments and changes in the subsequent design implementations
are expected. The possibility exists that bad proposals may hold high promise of
becoming good ones after the adjustments and changes demanded by the jury
have been implemented. It becomes unclear whether it is the proposals, or the
jury’s interpretation of their potentiality that are competing against each other.
Let us give two specific illustrations that indicate a somewhat surprising
interpretation of the mechanisms behind interpreting design inadequacies. The
first illustration pursued the abovementioned disturbing, foreign and superfluous
expressive solution. In the competition proposal they are painted stark red,
which is also mentioned in the jury’s comments on the proposal. But the colour
could easily be changed later, and were not meant to be taken literally in the
first place,
… here something really new is happening. And of course this is
why those colors come into the picture to further express
something dynamic. You can say that these colors were not that
important to us … if we had won the competition and were to build
it those colors might have been changed. And [the structural
19
element] could have been elaborated in many different ways. But
in the competition we felt that it would be persuasive – with the
understanding that it could be elaborated later. (Interview
transcripts – author’s translation)
As mentioned, in this case such future elaborations are not acknowledge and the
proposed solution is criticised “as-is”. Contrast this to another extract from the
jury’s evaluation of the winning proposal. The proposal is highly praised for its
robust and visionary design, but the façade facing the public park is commented
on several times,
The proposed glass south-façade is interesting, but is also
technically challenging. The shown façade is still to find its final
form. … In relation to the south-façade a number of issues remain
to be resolved, e.g. water-proofing and especially [shading]. The
façade must possibly be changed somewhat to function
satisfactorily. …The south-façade should be simplified and possibly
also modified in order that its expression to a higher extent
concords with the identity of the surroundings. Further the jury
has doubts about the economical viability of the heat-reflecting
glass without any form of sunshades. The façade needs further
elaboration and technical documentation. (Jury’s assessment
report – author’s translation)
The façade was an integral element in the design, and in many respects it is said
in no uncertain terms that the jury does not find it persuasive. It violates the
general requirement that “the principles of construction and installation should
be simple” (The Jury’s Assessment Report, p. 9); it violates the mandatory
requirements of working conditions in the building; it violates technical
requirements; it violates the explicit concerns for minimizing the operational
costs of the facility. Nonetheless, the jury issues an invitation to elaborate on the
chosen façade solution. It is fairly obvious that the jury might also have decided
to disqualify the entry on exactly these grounds.
The fact that the jury did not disqualify the entry strongly suggests that these
points of praise and criticism in the assessment report were not the criteria for
choosing among the entries. They were produced to explain and justify a choice
made earlier, and a decision made on probably much more muddled and
individual criteria. The process of reaching consensus on a jury may easily
represent bargaining and coalition building and likely reflect the need to make
compromises – to find a decision that everybody can live with without
necessarily considering it the best of all worlds. Having reached a decision –
having picked the winner – the pressure is now on the jury to justify the
20
decision. To appear professional and accountable, the problematic aspects of
even the winning proposal must be addressed. But the way of differentiating the
winner from all the others is
ƒ
ƒ
to use harsher voices and to use stronger adjectives in the case of losing
proposals; and
to propose the remedies necessary for the winning entry that would make
it a superior design.
Thus, we suggest that not only are the competition criteria to a large extent
determined after the competition entries have been received. The criteria used
to distinguish in public between the winner and the rest of the contestants are
also determined after the winner has been picked. In neither case are criteria
used to select the winner; they are used to distinguish the winner and to justify
the decision.
We should emphasize that there is nothing illegitimate about the procedure if the
picture we draw is correct. The lack of rationality is not a choice on the part of
the jury, but a reflection of the underspecified (and non-specifiable) task. It is a
process of exploration and learning, not only for the participating architectural
teams, but also for the client and the jury. The information needed for turning
the design of a building into rational decision-making processes is exactly the
information that is missing and that is the rationale for calling an architectural
competition. Thus, the failure to separate the specification of criteria and the
selection of a winner, and the practice of selecting criteria as a post-decision
rationalization, is neither illegitimate nor surprising. More likely, it is a matter of
necessity, given the task that the jury is responsible for fulfilling.
CONCLUSION: THE SOURCES OF RANDOMNESS
The above description has suggested that the process of selecting a winner in an
architectural competition is more a sensemaking process than a choice process.
It implies that the existing knowledge and preferences that go into writing the
brief for the competition are themselves subject to change in the course of the
process. Developing the criteria for selection is not a process that is separated
from (and prior to) determining the winner. It is an integral part thereof. The
emphases placed on the various tensions expressed in the brief are learnt from
realizing their consequences in concrete terms from the entries. The premises for
learning, and the objects of learning, are not determined before the process,
only ascertainable after the fact.
21
But if everything is endogenous; if everything is influenced by the process by
which the jury selects the winner, at the point of preparing the entry in the
competition
the
architectural
teams
face
Knightian
uncertainty,
i.e.
immeasurable uncertainty. In that sense, we have established a real-world
equivalent of the simulation model’s random way of determining performance
levels. Whatever design choice the architects make, subsequent processes will
produce them as either good or bad choices. Any design choice may become
justification for being picked as winner as well as justification for being made a
loser. There is no way to know ex ante, because not even the client and the jury
can know it. Depending on the kind of justification needed, the same feature can
be changed from negative to positive; and if it cannot be changed to positive, it
can at least be made neutral by inviting the architect to change it in subsequent
phases of design. The interpretive flexibility of the jury is substantial.
Add
to
this,
however,
the
more
philosophical
claim
that
architectural
competitions represent competitions for primacy (March, 1999). In such
competitions own effort will never suffice in ensuring and explaining success
(Ryle, 2000). It will always be contingent upon the effort of other actors. Since
the efforts of the other architectural teams must be unknown at the time of
making the entry there is no way to predict the outcome of one’s performance
ex ante. And there are very poor conditions for learning valid lessons from
experience when such experience is collected in small series of single
architectural competitions.
Note that we do not claim that the work of the jury is random. We have no
reason to suspect other than that the jury members exercise their sound and
professional judgment. It is the outcome of such judgment which is, at the time
of preparing the entry, virtually impossible to predict. Randomness is a quality of
living forward when designing the competition entry, not of understanding the
outcomes of architectural competitions retrospectively (Weick, 2006).
22
DISCUSSION
In this brief final discussion we want to touch upon two issues. We want to
suggest that while we have proposed a way in which strategies may be
evaluated ex ante, we think, by the same argument, that strategies cannot be
evaluated ex post. Secondly, we want to discuss how strategizing in unknowable
worlds may be conceived in practical terms.
It should be clear that the possibility for making ex ante evaluations of
strategizing in unknowable worlds hinges on our ability to replace causal
reasoning with the stochastic reasoning. By the same token, we accept that the
individual
outcome
of
any
strategic
choice
in
any
competition
will
be
unpredictable, in practice and in principle. Any realized outcome is largely
insignificant! It cannot be the basis of learning which strategies are good and
bad. It is significant only in the sense of being one out of many possible
outcomes. Things that actually happened are no more informing and telling that
all the things that might have happened, had the process emerged only slightly
differently. The risk is that outcomes actually observed will be given higher
significance than non-observed outcomes. We know that this risk is real
(Fischhoff, 1975); we also know that false learning ensues when single events
are generalized (March, Sproull, & Tamuz, 1999). It would be equally bad to
infer that clients and juries never change their minds in the aftermath of having
lost a competition by not complying with the demands of the competition, as it
would be to infer that they always will after having been rewarded for departing
from the brief. To draw such implications would imply a return to causal
reasoning, acknowledging uncertainty only in the form of hidden or misconstrued
preferences that exist a priori. However, clients and juries do not stick to the
words of the brief because the architectural team departed; nor do they
improvise new rules because another team departed successfully. The decision
to insist or to change is made with reference to the situation in its totality and its
specificity. Any one entry is but a small “detail” in such situational totalities. We
may as well claim that outcomes are determined by chance, knowing that many
will protest and argue the obvious point that not any type of entry will stand an
equal chance of winning. However, within the variety produced by professional
architectural teams playing for real the outcome of the competition will be
determined by chance when viewed ex ante. We are able to determine causal
links ex post when e.g. the jury has made its decision about criteria, rules etc.
But this is not the same as saying that had the teams known in advance, and
23
had acted accordingly, they would have had a better chance of winning. Had
they in fact acted differently, the situation would have been different, and the
decisions of the jury might also have been different.
Any rational calculation of a strategy must, in unknowable worlds, be based on a
“large number” logic. That is, it depends on the construction of counterfactual
histories: things that might have happened, just as well as the individual factual
outcomes. To be unable to predict the individual outcome does not imply that we
cannot predict a pattern in the aggregate performance of competing architectural
teams. It is possible that e.g. certain learning strategies will prove to increase
the odds of winning competition, although we have not tested such a possibility.
We have only tested the possibility that outcomes are completely random – in
the sense of representing a draw from a random number generator. That does
not, of course, produce any systematical patterns in the frequency (and
likelihood) of winning. We used this illustration to show that strategy does not
necessarily end with realizing the randomness of winning, and that strategy may
focus on supplementary aspects of winning. We showed that it is possible to
think strategically over the kinds of consequences the architectural firm will face,
should they be lucky to win a competition. Patterns in the quality of the wins
(nicknamed the thrill factor) were discernable in the aggregate performance, not
in the individual outcome.
Simulations produce large samples, but samples of non-empirical outcomes.
Direct experience provides small samples of real cases. Choosing strategy in
unknowable worlds imply taking risks. Choosing strategy on the basis of
simulation models imply the obvious risk of postulating choices that do not exist
in the real world. Choosing strategy on the basis of direct experience runs the
risk of learning from non-representative samples. We don’t know of any direct
way in which the two risks may be measured against each other. However, the
fact that simulation models are obviously abstract thought-experiments will
reduce the risk that the results will be taken at face value. Contrary, the realness
of direct experiences increases the risk that incidental outcomes will be taken to
seriously and generalized invalidly to future, different situations.
In terms of strategizing, it is still to be shown how one may tilt the playing field
architectural competitions. We may perhaps be able to prepare for situations in
which the incidental circumstances may favor us. E.g. we may offer a client and
the jury a reason to praise our entries, by including what we consider attractive
and unique features into the design, whether or not they strictly speaking
24
comply with the brief. If the client on this occasion happens to insist on the
requirements in the brief, we will not be selected; If the client dislikes the
feature, we will certainly not be selected either. But if nothing better offers itself
to be chosen, our feature may come to play the role of unifying the jury in
producing the arguments in favor of our entry. A slim chance, perhaps, but
without the offer of a unique feature the chance would be nil. In the aggregate
picture, even small chances may produce differential success and survival rates.
In the short run, admittedly such strategizing may be completely irrelevant and
in retrospect be regarded as dysfunctional. But it is conceivable that in the long
run, and over large number of competitions, such distinctive offers will prove to
be better than non-distinct offers in the sense of raising the odds of winning. In
the short run, such issues are matters of faith, and it seems from our illustration
that the primary aim of a rational and meaningful strategy in an unknowable
world may well be the aim of preparing for the eventual success: ensuring that
the design task one is charged with implementing, should one be lucky enough
to win, is a professionally challenging and rewarding design. One cannot control
when and why one wins architectural competitions; but one can choose what
type of architect one is, in victory as well as in defeat. That seems to resonate
well with Louis Kahn (2003: p. 42) when he describes the role of an architect,
If you get a program from a school-board, the first thing it will say
… is that it must have a nine-foot fence around it - wire fence and that it must have stainless-steel doors and the corridors must
be no less than nine feet wide, and that all its classrooms must be
well ventilated and have good light and all be a certain size. They
will give you many things which will help the practitioner make a
pretty good profit out of his commission by following the rule of
rules. But this is not an architect at work. An architect thinks of a
school possibly as being a realm of spaces within which it is well to
learn. I think schools, for instance, have now gotten away from the
original spark or the existence-will or seed of "school". … Now, if
this is what a school is – a realm of spaces where it is good to
learn – then it is the occupation of the architect to change the
program, to make the program alive to the very existence-will
which started the school.” (Louis Kahn, 2003: p. 40-42)
Programs and budgets may rule in the end, even for architects like Kahn.
However, his notion of an architect’s occupation may in the long run not only be
a tribute to the ethos of architecture, but also a wise strategy for architectural
firms competing for primacy in unknowable worlds.
25
CONCLUSION
We have shown that in principle the ex ante evaluation of strategies is possible,
even in unknowable worlds, if we change the causal reasoning behind the
classical evaluation to a statistical reasoning. Even when individual outcomes are
stochastic,
certain
patterns
may
still
be
discernible
in
the
aggregate
performance. Our simulation model demonstrated the possibility of such patterns
in large samples of architectural competitions. The real world relevance of
simulation models is to supplement the direct experience in order to prevent that
actors, when meeting reality as single and uniquely significant events, will learn
unwarranted lessons.
We have claimed to show that it is better to risk erring by presuming that clients
and juries have weak preferences, than to constrain one’s creativity and
professionalism on the expectation that clients and juries have strong a priori
preferences. The empirical case-study has shown that architectural teams face
Knightian uncertainty when they enter into architectural competitions. They
cannot control, nor influence whether they win a contract or not. But strategizing
is nonetheless possible in the sense that they may influence the attractiveness of
the contract should they be lucky enough to win.
The present paper has not demonstrated that the strategic choice, and the focus
on the thrill-factor, is relevant to teams in actual architectural competitions. In
two follow-up papers data will be presented (1) on the actual and the revealed
strategizing of architectural teams; and (2) on the learning from experience that
architectural teams do in connection with architectural competitions.
26
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28
APPENDIX 1
14,00
13,00
12,00
11,00
10,00
9,00
8,00
7,00
6,00
5,00
4,00
3,00
2,00
Dynamic Average of Thrills of Wins
10,00
Architect1
Architect2
Architect3
Architect4
Architect5
Average Thrill
Dynamic Average
Dynamic Average of No. of Wins
Architect1
Architect2
9,00
Architect3
8,00
Architect4
Architect5
7,00
Architect6
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
Architect6
6,00
Architect7
1
2
3
4
Architect8
Simulation No.
5
6
7
8
9
10
Architect8
Simulation No.
Dynam ic Average of No. of Wins
Dynam ic Average of Thrills of Wins
Architect2
Architect3
Architect4
Architect5
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
Architect6
Architect1
Average Thrill
Dynamic Average
Architect1
11,00
10,00
9,00
8,00
7,00
6,00
5,00
4,00
3,00
2,00
11,00
Architect2
10,00
Architect3
9,00
8,00
Architect4
7,00
Architect5
6,00
1
2
Architect7
Sim ulation No.
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
Architect8
Dynam ic Average of No. of Wins
Dynam ic Average of Thrills of Wins
Architect2
Architect3
Architect4
Architect5
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
Architect6
Architect1
Average Thrill
Dynamic Average
Architect1
1
10,00
Architect2
9,00
Architect3
8,00
Architect4
7,00
Architect5
6,00
1
2
Architect7
Sim ulation No.
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
Architect8
Dynam ic Average of No. of Wins
Dynam ic Average of Thrills of Wins
Architect2
Architect3
Architect4
Architect5
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
Sim ulation No.
9
10
Architect6
Architect1
Average Thrill
Dynamic Average
Architect1
1
Architect6
Architect7
Sim ulation No.
Architect8
11,00
10,00
9,00
8,00
7,00
6,00
5,00
4,00
3,00
2,00
Architect6
Architect7
Sim ulation No.
Architect8
11,00
10,00
9,00
8,00
7,00
6,00
5,00
4,00
3,00
2,00
Architect7
10,00
Architect2
9,00
Architect3
8,00
Architect4
7,00
Architect5
6,00
1
2
Architect7
Architect8
3
4
5
6
7
8
Sim ulation No.
9
10
Architect6
Architect7
Architect8
Four examples of the dynamic averages of number of competitions won, and the
dynamic averages thrill of competitions won, over 10 runs of the simulation. In
all cases, the simulation parameters are unchanged.
29
The parameter setting for the above results
Penalty level: 3
No of points: 1000
Negative Differentiation
x-axis
1
2
3
Architect1
0,0
0,0
0,0
Architect2
0,0
0,0
15,0
Architect3
0,0
0,0
15,0
Architect4
0,0
15,0
30,0
Architect5
0,0
30,0
45,0
Architect6
0,0
45,0
60,0
Architect7
0,0
60,0
75,0
Architect8
30,0
90,0
120,0
4
30,0
60,0
90,0
120,0
150,0
180,0
210,0
240,0
Expected Solutions
5
6
384,0
320,0
360,0
300,0
344,0
286,7
312,0
260,0
280,0
233,3
248,0
206,7
216,0
180,0
144,0
120,0
7
256,0
240,0
229,3
208,0
186,7
165,3
144,0
96,0
8
10,0
20,0
30,0
40,0
50,0
60,0
70,0
80,0
Positive Differentiation
9
10
0,0
0,0
5,0
0,0
5,0
0,0
10,0
5,0
15,0
10,0
20,0
15,0
25,0
20,0
40,0
30,0
11
0,0
0,0
0,0
0,0
0,0
0,0
0,0
10,0
1000
1000
1000
1000
1000
1000
1000
1000
The strategy is produced by allocating probabilities (“points”) to the high-end performance outcomes, and by the same token
three-fold the probability to the negative mirror outcomes. The probabilities around the mid-level are determined in a similar
manner, distributing the remaining points when the positive differentiation points and the implied negative differentiation points
have been allocated.
Probability Distribution
Cumulative Probabilities
0,450
1,200
0,400
Architect1
Architect1
1,000
Architect2
0,300
Architect3
0,250
Architect4
0,200
Architect5
0,150
Architect6
0,100
Architect7
Architect2
Probabilities
Probabilities
0,350
Architect8
0,050
0,000
0,800
Architect3
Architect4
0,600
Architect5
Architect6
0,400
Architect7
0,200
Architect8
0,000
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10 11
1
2
3
Achievement Levels
4
5
6
7
8
9
10 11
Achievement Levels
The above simulation results build on the assumed probability distribution over
achievements
distributions
for
allow
eight
a
architectural
direct
firms
translation
of
shown
a
here.
random
corresponding performance outcome for each architect.
The
number
cumulative
and
the