09.03.2026

AI curriculum for architecture schools

Building design

Architectural diagram of Garden by the Bay, Singapore, photographed by ANNIE HATUANH

Architecture and artificial intelligence – that sounds like Blade Runner, dystopian cityscapes and designs that write themselves. But while the world of ChatGPT and Midjourney looks on in fascination, one guild is asking itself: who will actually teach the next generation of architects how to use AI? Architecture schools in Germany, Austria and Switzerland are facing an epochal task: they need to deliver an AI curriculum that not only updates the profession, but gives it a whole new foundation. The question is not whether this will happen – but how quickly we can do it before the algorithm takes the sketch out of our hands.

Why an AI curriculum in architecture education is not a luxury, but essential for survival
How far German, Austrian and Swiss architecture schools really are in an international comparison
Which innovations and trends are shaping the AI age in design, planning and construction
What technical know-how and soft skills are required of budding architects
How digitalization and AI are changing architectural practice and education in the long term
Which debates, fears and visions accompany new learning
How sustainability, ethics and creative freedom can be safeguarded in the age of algorithms
What all this has to do with the global architecture debate – and why it’s high time we didn’t miss the boat

The big gap: Where does the AI curriculum stand at DACH architecture schools?

You can spin it any way you like: the digital transformation of the construction world has long been in full swing, but the curricula at German-speaking architecture schools are lagging behind reality. While lecture halls still teach form-finding on tracing paper and design criticism with pencil and red pen, AI tools have long been generating complex spatial structures, simulating climate and usage scenarios and optimizing load-bearing structures at the touch of a button. In Germany, some universities are experimenting with courses on generative design, data analysis and BIM-based planning processes. However, there is no systematic, mandatory integration of AI skills. Most curricula treat digitalization as an optional subject at best, as an add-on for tech nerds – not as a central foundation of education.

In Switzerland, the situation is slightly better. There are pilot projects in Zurich and Lausanne that integrate AI-based design processes into teaching. There are also some initiatives in Austria, for example in Vienna and Graz, where students are gaining initial experience with algorithmic design, parametric planning and machine learning. But: the big picture is missing here too. Traditional architecture teaching dominates, which sees AI as a tool, not a paradigm. The inhibition threshold is high. Many teachers are barely familiar with AI themselves, and the uncertainty as to how much algorithm is conducive to freedom of design is holding back the courage to undertake radical curriculum reforms.

At the same time, the international comparison is sobering. In the USA, the UK and China, AI courses have long been standard in architecture degree programs. There, dealing with generative models, data analysis and automation is seen as a key skill. A look at the graduate profiles shows: Anyone studying architecture abroad today leaves university with a toolbox that is often years ahead of their German, Austrian and Swiss counterparts. The result is a growing skills gap that the entire DACH region is unable to close with either excellence initiatives or individual projects.

However, the main problem is not of a technical nature. It is a mentality problem. There is still the idea that technology and design are opposites – that algorithms restrict creativity instead of expanding it. This attitude leads to a dangerous complacency. While international offices have long been using AI-supported design processes, smart material analyses and automated planning processes, here in Germany we are debating whether this is still “real” architecture at all. The question of whether we integrate AI into training is no longer an issue – it’s just a question of how and when.

The consequences are foreseeable: If you don’t offer an AI curriculum in architectural education today, you risk putting the next generation on the digital sidelines. Planning practice is evolving and the demands on young architects are increasing. If universities do not follow suit, they will be overtaken by reality. This is not alarmism, but sober analysis. Digital change is not waiting for the last skeptic.

AI, digitalization and the reinvention of architectural knowledge

What does this mean in concrete terms for the curriculum? First of all, it means a paradigm shift: away from the idea that digitalization is a specialist field and towards the insight that AI is redefining the entire architectural value chain. From the first sketch to the dismantling of a building, AI plays a role everywhere. It starts with the design, where generative algorithms generate endless variants, simulate material flows and optimize urban planning parameters in real time. Those who do not master these tools remain trapped in the analog age.

But AI means more than just new tools. It requires a new understanding of data literacy, modeling and creative control. Students need to learn how to curate data sets, train algorithms, check results and reflect critically. This includes technical know-how in programming languages, statistics, geoinformation systems and machine learning. But soft skills are also required: collaboration in interdisciplinary teams, ethical reflection and strong communication skills.

A modern AI curriculum must therefore be interdisciplinary. It is not enough to offer a few CAD or BIM courses and sell them as digitalization. What is needed is the integration of computer science, sustainability, sociology, law, economics and design. Architecture is becoming a platform discipline in which AI is not just a tool, but a co-designer. The curriculum must teach how to control and evaluate AI-supported processes and make them usable for society.

This is also where the debate about responsibility begins. Who decides how algorithms are built? Who controls the database? How transparent and comprehensible are the AI results that will decide on construction projects, urban design and choice of materials in the future? An AI curriculum must not be limited to technical skills. It must also teach ethics, governance and participation. The ability to explain, question and regulate AI will become a key qualification for the next generation of architects.

Finally, the question of creative freedom is central. AI can accelerate, optimize and rationalize design – but it must not replace the autonomy of the architect. The curriculum must therefore also teach how to use AI as a partner in creative processes without becoming a mere parameterization machine. It is about the balance between inspiration and automation, between human judgment and machine intelligence. Those who fail to teach this balance will at best produce technology administrators – but not designers of the built environment.

Sustainability, AI and the long road to resource-efficient construction

Every modern AI curriculum in architecture must cover a central topic: Sustainability. The construction sector is responsible for a large proportion of CO₂ emissions, resource consumption and waste generation worldwide. AI offers enormous potential here – if you know how to use it. Algorithms can optimize material flows, automate life cycle analyses, simulate urban planning scenarios and predict climate impacts. But this does not happen by itself. It requires experts who understand, apply and further develop the tools.

In practice, this means that students need to learn how to analyze data on energy consumption, building materials, transport routes and building use and derive sustainable planning decisions from this. They need to know how to train AI models on ecological targets, how to recognize conflicts between economic efficiency and environmental protection and how to evaluate new materials or construction methods with the help of AI. This requires not only technical knowledge, but also a deep understanding of interrelationships, interactions and system dynamics.

However, an AI curriculum must not be limited to efficiency optimization. It is also about social sustainability: how can algorithms help to create affordable housing, promote social integration and strengthen inclusion and participation? The answers to these questions are complex and often controversial. This shows how important critical reflection and interdisciplinary collaboration are. Students need to learn that sustainable architecture is more than just a good CO₂ balance sheet.

The challenges are not only technical, but also cultural and regulatory in nature. In Germany, Austria and Switzerland, there are numerous standards, certification systems and funding programs for sustainable building. AI-supported planning processes must be familiar with and comply with these framework conditions – or, even better, develop them further. This requires a close interlinking of research, teaching and practice. Universities, companies and public stakeholders must pull together to ensure that the AI curriculum does not remain in an ivory tower.

Ultimately, sustainability in the age of AI is a question of attitude. Only those who understand AI as a tool for the common good, not just for efficiency and profit, will be able to shape the building revolution. The AI curriculum must convey this attitude – and even more: it must enable students to see the digital transformation as an opportunity for a better, fairer and more sustainable built environment.

Debates, visions and the global perspective: architecture in the age of algorithms

The introduction of an AI curriculum at architecture schools is not a foregone conclusion. There are heated debates, doubts and resistance. Critics warn of an “algorithmization” of architecture, of the danger that design and creativity will be supplanted by data-driven processes. Others fear that AI will primarily benefit the large, financially strong offices, while small and medium-sized players will be left behind. There are ethical concerns: how do we prevent bias and discrimination when algorithms decide on space, use or material? Who controls the black boxes that shape our building culture?

Visionaries, on the other hand, see the AI curriculum as an opportunity to democratize architecture. AI can open up planning processes, facilitate participation and make complex contexts easier to understand. It can help to develop new forms of designing, building and using – beyond traditional routines. The topic has long since arrived in the global architectural debate. International competitions, research consortia and innovation labs show this: The question is not whether AI will change architecture, but how we shape this change.

For Germany, Austria and Switzerland, this is a challenge – and an opportunity to position themselves. Those who boldly invest in training AI skills now can prepare the next generation of architects for a world in which data, algorithms and creativity go hand in hand. Those who continue to hesitate risk losing touch and becoming the extended arm of international software providers. The AI curriculum is therefore also a way of securing sovereignty for building culture in German-speaking countries.

However, implementation is complex. It requires new teaching formats, flexible modules, further training for teachers and close cooperation with practitioners. Universities must open up, network and be prepared to take unconventional paths. For their part, students must learn to endure uncertainty, dare to try new things and critically question their own role in the digital ecosystem. This requires courage, openness and a good dose of curiosity.

And another thing is clear: the AI curriculum is not a static framework. It must constantly evolve and adapt to new technologies, social developments and ethical issues. The architecture of the future is dynamic, hybrid and more data-driven than ever. Only those who see the curriculum as a living process will shape change – instead of chasing after it.

Conclusion: the AI curriculum is mandatory, not optional

Architecture is at a turning point. Artificial intelligence is no longer a topic for the future, but a reality in design, planning and on the construction site. The response of architecture schools to this has so far been too hesitant, too fragmented, too old-fashioned. If you want to prepare the next generation for the digital building revolution, you need an AI curriculum that is more than just a technical add-on. It must combine design, technical, ethical and social skills – and turn students into designers of a digital, sustainable and fair building world. The time for waiting is over. If you don’t invest now, you will lose out. And not just the connection, but the future of building culture.

14.04.2025

Project

besgen landscape architecture: outdoor facilities Dietrich-Bonhoeffer-Haus

Building design

The redesign of the entrance area of the community center transforms a previously unsafe concrete arena into an inviting, colorful seating arena for young people. Noël Besgen, besgen landscape architecture

The redesign of the entrance area to the community center was a major challenge. Despite years of experience in designing outdoor areas, it was difficult to redesign the steep “concrete arena”, which was no longer safe to use. In the following project presentation, the besgen landscape architecture firm explains how it nevertheless succeeded in transforming this space into an inviting area.

The starting point was the redesign of the steep, no longer safe to use concrete arena that leads to the “Sonderbar” children’s and youth club in the community center. The aim was to create a friendly and colorful entrance situation that invites people to the “Sonderbar”. A seating arena is intended to invite young people and confirmands to linger, chill out and celebrate, while also appealing to everyone who passes by. As part of the design, the extended outdoor area was also integrated into the design to create a harmonious overall look for the community garden and make access to the community center more inviting. The greywacke rock seating arena forms a transition and acts as a “front garden bed backdrop” to the community center, which changes over the course of the seasons. Strictly trimmed hedge bands serve as “green hedge railings” and protect the footpath from the flowerbeds. The steps are atmospherically set off by bollard lights in the clusters of shrubs and grasses, while recesses in the path decking serve as small seating niches. Herbaceous perennials were planted at the sides of the flowerbeds to turn the steps into a “scented staircase”.

A connecting element between the front and rear garden areas is the “community meadow”. At the rear is the “community terrace”, which adjoins the worship hall and is slightly higher, like a small bastion. This previously little-used terrace has now been transformed into an extended worship and open space that is used for congregational activities, open-air services, baptisms, meetings and festivities. The terrace is structured by intersecting strips of light-colored slabs and protected from noise and views from the main road by a hedge. Beds of ground cover and vertical grasses reinforce the effect of a sheltered, framed space. Here too, bollard lights in the beds provide atmospheric lighting accents, especially in the evening and in winter.

The garden was designed to be climate-friendly, with robust, low-maintenance plants that can withstand drought, urban climates and cold. The plants are also insect and bee-friendly. The plant beds consist mainly of ground covers, ornamental perennials, grasses and specimen plants that change depending on the season. Especially in summer, white hydrangeas and solitary grasses with taut stems add to the atmosphere.

The selection of plants in the community garden includes a variety of robust and climate-resistant plants. Strictly pruned hedges such as hornbeam (Carpinus betulus) and Schmidt’s alpine currant (Ribes alpinum Schmidt) form a structured framework. Flowering plants such as the panicle hydrangea (Hydrangea paniculata Limelight), the autumn anemone (Anemone japonica ‘Honorine Jobert’) and the white summer wood aster (Aster divaricatus Tradescant) provide seasonal color accents. Ground cover plants such as the ground cover rose Noatraum and the ornamental lady’s mantle (Alchemilla epipsila) fill the garden with vibrant greenery. The candle knotweed (Bistorta amplexicaulisLisan) and the cranesbill (Geranium wallichianum Azure Rush) complete the floral variety. Other plants such as steppe sage (Salvia nemorosa Caradonna), coneflower (Rudbeckia fulgida var. sullivantii Goldsturm), mountain mint (Calamintha nepeta Triumphator) and Patagonian verbena (Verbena bonariensis) not only provide aesthetic accents, but also attract insects. The catmint (Nepeta x faassenii) and various grasses, such as the autumn head grass (Sesleria autumnalis) and the garden riding grass (Calamagrostis x acutiflora Karl Foerster`), round off the plant selection and ensure a dynamic garden appearance all year round.

“Every garden is the result of an individual idea,” says Noël Besgen (landscape architect AKNW) – creative idea finder and design-competent planner for all aspects of garden and open space architecture. The starting point is the location, the garden, the square, the street, the park – and people.

The office “besgen Landschaftsarchitektur” was founded in 2008 with a focus on open space and object planning of private gardens. We create innovative, pragmatic, individual and low-maintenance concepts for feasible planning and design proposals for urban garden and open space culture that meet the special requirements of contemporary living and working environments. The designs stand for functionality, timelessness, formal restraint and clear reduction to simplicity. Competent and complete project support from the first sketch to the realized object.

Climate-resilient, sustainable and aesthetic redesign and redesign of the community center’s outdoor facilities as the seasons change. “And in the middle of the paradise garden, the werewolf chills in the sea of flowers,” commented the church community on the opening of the outdoor facilities.

Realization: 2021-2022
Client: Evangelical parish of Sankt Augustin & Niederpleis and Mülldorf
Design + planning: besgen landscape architecture & Noël Besgen I landscape architect AKNW

Our September issue is all about urban oases. Find more exciting projects here.

By the way: The long-awaited vote of the European Parliament on the Nature Restoration Law did not go as planned. Find out more about the result here.

21.12.2024

English eat up Germany?

Building design

The politician Jens Spahn sees German city centres being overrun by the English language and a globalized hipster culture. Our author wishes him more serenity.

Jo, it’s funny, the picture above. A subtle linguistic attack on the common Teutonic tourist. Whether an unconscious act of Germano aversion or rather sloppiness in the Adriatic high season – the impression currently haunting Facebook refers to the great theme of longing and loss in globalization: dealing with one’s own, and foreign, language. An emotional subject. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about – I’m currently living in Mexico and am trying, with moderate success, to improve my Spanish. That’s important, because hardly anyone speaks English here. Unlike in Berlin-Mitte.

Which brings us to the topic. The dominance of English in core tourist areas such as the center of Berlin has just been made an issue by CDU politician (and, according to those in the know, upcoming party star) Jens Spahn. He says that too much English is spoken in Berlin’s hipster cafés. And tries, somewhat strenuously, to combine his position as the only CDU hipster with his Anglo-critical core argumentation. Of course, this is aimed more at the CDU core electorate “out in the country”, people in Wanne-Eickel or Salzgitter-Lebenstedt, who may not speak English as well as the Berlin hipsters Spahn doesn’t appreciate (and like himself, as he casually lets slip).

Very important for Spahn: the reversal of the provincialism accusation. It is not the people from Wanne-Eickel who are provincial, but the hipsters themselves. A popular mental maneuver: take your opponent’s main argument and throw it at them yourself. Am I stupid? No, you are stupid. No, you are. No you…

Now, the presence of English in the tourist centers of our cities – as well as in those of other metropolises – cannot be denied. Occasionally I sit with a German friend at the bar of Berlin’s Soho House and order drinks from the German barman – in English. It does feel a bit strange. But to be honest, it’s not that bad. In any case, it doesn’t give me the identity crisis Spahn is talking about. And the drinks are still good.

What is interesting about Spahn’s criticism, however, is his observation that a kind of global tourism culture is spreading in our centers and replacing everything regional. That’s true, these cultural processes do exist. They also have an architectural impact, in Berlin, for example, through the construction of architecturally disastrous hotel bunkers that signal to Easyjet tourists in particular: This is your place. Berlin has little to counter this as a city due to empty coffers. At least investment is now being made, it seems. But the question is at what point the atmosphere of a city center is actually undermined to such an extent that nothing specific to the city remains.

Although – ultimately, I’m not so pessimistic about this. And that’s because I believe in the power of our cities more than Jens Spahn does. It’s not true that “all of Mitte” or the entire city centre of Munich is degenerating into vulgar, globalized party zones. Rather, backpacker tourism and hipsteritis are being added to other cultural elements. And alongside the aforementioned hotel monstrosities, a lot of good architecture is still being created in our cities. In this respect, dear Mr. Spahn: Relax. Oh sorry – don’t despair, I meant.