Hey, it's David.

I've been watching architects falling into what I call the "tools trap", believing that mastery of software equals design excellence.

Here are the warning signs I see everywhere:

Your portfolio shows perfect renders, zero personality. Every project looks like it came from the same template. Flawless visualizations. Generic solutions.

You panic when software updates. New version of Revit? Crisis mode activated. Intelligence-focused architects adapt quickly because they understand underlying principles. Tool-focused architects start over every time.

You can't explain your design without a computer. Great architects communicate ideas with napkin sketches. If you need perfect renders to explain your concept, the concept probably isn't clear enough.

Your CV lists software, not achievements. I guess this one is self-explanatory.

You rush to learn every new tool. Smart architects ask: "Does this tool solve a real problem I have?" Most don't even ask the question.

And then, you become interchangeable with any other software operator.

But there's another way.

While most architects chase the latest software, a select few are developing something far more valuable: contextual intelligence.

You read sites like stories. While others see empty lots, you see historical layers, cultural narratives, future user needs. Your designs respond to context, not trends.

You predict what clients actually need before they even know it themselves. You ask: "Who will use this space in 20 years?"

You speak the language of place. Materials tell stories. Spaces hold memories. Forms respond to climate.

You solve problems others can't see. Context before concept. Always. You understand that every site has invisible forces: social dynamics, economic pressures, environmental challenges.

You build future heritage. While others create buildings, you create places.

Montenegro, 2016. The narrowest point of the Kotor Bay.

Most architects would see a development opportunity. We saw a problem that needed solving first.

The site was what landscape theorist Gilles Clément calls a "third landscape"—neither wilderness nor carefully cultivated space, but something in-between. Forgotten. Misused. Improvised stalls in car trunks sold clothing and decor with zero connection to Kotor Bay's heritage.

The site spoke of disconnection—a cultural void in one of Montenegro's most significant landscapes.

The solution wasn't a building. It was a reclamation.

We created the Verige Viewpoint and Infinity Café-Restaurant. But the real design work happened before we drew a single line:

The building now serves as a quiet mediator between sky, sea, and stone. It belongs to the landscape because we understood the landscape first.

That's contextual intelligence in action.

So, David, how do I know if I’m thinking contextually?

Ask yourself about your current project:

If you struggled with these questions, you're still thinking like a tool user, not a place maker.

The architects building standout careers aren't the ones with the most software licenses. They're the ones who've made the shift from tools to intelligence.

They know that every site has a unique story. But most architects ignore it. They import their favorite style: minimalist box in historic quarter, glass tower in traditional neighborhood, cookie-cutter apartment anywhere.

Contextual intelligence asks: What makes this place special? How do locals actually live here? What would honor the past while serving the future?

The answers become your design DNA.

Context before concept. Always.

Start with one simple practice: Before opening any software, spend time understanding what your site has been trying to become. The place will tell you, if you know how to listen.

If you're ready to develop this crucial skill systematically, I'm here to help.

Talk soon.

David

*

P.S. The most successful architects I know didn't get there by mastering more tools. They got there by asking better questions.