Is the culture within landscape architecture quietly working against its own future?
In some circles, a preference for high-concept design over technical depth, and a tendency to undervalue public education about what we do, has created an uneven perception of our profession. While these attitudes may seem harmless - or even aspirational - they can limit career development, foster unhealthy work environments, and weaken our standing in the broader design and construction world.

At a time when external pressures, like threats to licensure, are emerging, it's worth reexamining how Landscape Architects present ourselves, support one another, and advocate for the full value of our work.

Art and Landscape
Growing up the son of a congressman, my childhood was a stark contrast between rural Nebraska and the multicultural, high-energy environment of Washington, D.C. Though exposed to the world of politics, I naturally gravitated toward the arts. For me, art class was another form of recess - an opportunity to daydream about building treehouses and draw on my desk during math lessons.

I first pursued higher education at Kansas City Art Institute (KCAI), where I studied sculpture with a strong focus on nature-based outdoor installations. This foundation in creating immersive experiences, rather than isolated objects, led me to landscape architecture. At the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD), I discovered a profession that aligned perfectly with my artistic vision - conceptual thinking with large-scale environmental impact. Unfortunately, my transition into landscape architecture also introduced me to a cultural undercurrent I would encounter throughout my career.

It Starts Early
While I was no stranger to brutal critiques due to my time at KCAI, there was something different about the landscape architecture culture in graduate school, something more performative. I occasionally encountered students who spoke with a faux British-meets-1980s-Valley-Girl accent touting statements like:

• "Students at [less prestigious program] wonder what it's like at [more prestigious program], but we don't wonder what it's like there."
• "If you're good enough as a designer, you don't need a license."
• "If you're talented, you won't have to do AutoCAD."
• "If you have to explain what you do as a Landscape Architect, you're not any good."

While some of these sentiments might seem trivial, they have real-world implications that seep into professional practice and shape office culture.

Peer vs. Peer

 
There's no denying that landscape architecture benefits from an infusion of artistic thought. While the influence of Earthworks sculptures has expanded our creative vocabulary, it has also created a subset of professionals who want the prestige of being a "visionary artist" without engaging in the technical rigor that truly defines our field.

Early in my career, I worked for a small boutique design firm that profoundly shaped my professional trajectory. Two junior designers I encountered - let's call them JD1 and JD2 - perfectly illustrate the cultural divide within the profession:

• JD1 embraced the full spectrum of design tasks, including tedious but critical construction documentation work. Their willingness to engage in technical details strengthened their understanding of how design translates into the built environment.
• JD2, on the other hand, actively avoided AutoCAD, pretending to lack aptitude. They even sabotaged CAD files to deter their employer from assigning them technical tasks, hoping to be fast-tracked into conceptual design work.

When JD1 fell ill during a deadline push, JD2 was left as the sole junior designer responsible for completing permit drawings. Unable to deliver, JD2's career at the firm was short-lived. This scenario highlights an essential truth: those who master the technical side of landscape architecture not only become better designers but also gain long-term job security, influence, and professional resilience. The best way for a recent graduate to develop their overall professional profile is to work for a small boutique firm that might not be famous but whose small team will require the graduate to do everything.

Employer vs. Employee
A different example of this snobbery happened to a close colleague and friend of mine. As a fresh graduate of a landscape architecture degree program many years ago, they had contacted a potential employer to inquire about employment. The first question they encountered over the phone was: "Are you a genius?"

My friend later detailed the make-or-break moment during the in-person interview where they had the opportunity to not only walk the potential boss through their graduate thesis work, but also offer their underlying design philosophy. My colleague was almost immediately interrupted, talked over, and thrown off balance in their ability to share meaningful and intelligent thought on design process and the profession.

Fairly quickly, the trajectory of the meeting went South as the interviewer downgraded my friend's potential contribution to the firm to that of a temporary draftsman and added production horsepower. Unsurprisingly, this "genius" is someone who rips on the design abilities of almost every Landscape Architect they cross paths with and carries themselves as a supreme ambassador of landscape architecture in their area.

Ironically, growing up immersed in politics has given me a unique perspective on professional arrogance. I sometimes joke that I can't tell whether an affected insufferable person I encounter on the National Mall is a Capitol Hill staffer or a Landscape Architect.

When An Asset Becomes A Burden
I like to tell younger people in our profession that they should want to be a nerd - or show significant expertise interest in at least two specialty construction, technical, or horticultural science areas of practice. These could include some of the stand-out pieces of a project that also have a significant contribution to the purest expression of the design concepts by using a rigorous and true application of design principals.

However, an unhealthy version of this was revealed at a time when I was considering going back to work at a larger group practice and had the good fortune to secure an interview with a well-known firm. Almost immediately, I heard one of the young design principals share his honest - almost proud - admission of: "Um, so like, we're, like, siloed into separate technical and design groups." He said this as though it sounded cool to use the word "siloed."

It became apparent early-on and increasingly over time that there were two groups of Landscape Architects: a large population of people who just didn't like and/or managed to skate over doing difficult detail work and another group that was either hired specifically for or pigeon-holed into doing the "technical" work, and this wasn't working for them. Instead of having a smaller, refined staff of dynamic people invested in all aspects of the work, they had a staff that was - in my estimation - double the size it needed to be with a dwindling group of technical people who were tired and bored with their work. The firm was looking for a middle-aged construction drawing production grandpa savior to take over and direct the things they didn't want to do.

These elitist attitudes prevalent in some design firms create toxic work environments. Rather than fostering collaboration, they encourage a hierarchy where some designers are deemed "visionaries" while others are relegated to technical labor. This mentality stifles creativity and undermines the very principles that make landscape architecture a dynamic and essential profession. The reality is our profession should be more collegial, more inclusive, and more committed to elevating all aspects of practice - not just the glamorous ones.

Public Misconceptions About Landscape Architecture
Beyond internal challenges, our profession constantly battles public misconceptions. Many people - even those within adjacent industries - fail to understand what Landscape Architects actually do. The mischaracterization of our work as mere "landscaping" or "gardening" diminishes our contributions to urban planning, environmental restoration, and large-scale infrastructure projects. Some even question whether our profession is necessary at all. These misunderstandings create an uphill battle for legitimacy, funding, and public support.

The issue is compounded by some within our own ranks who perpetuate the notion that if you have to explain what a Landscape Architect does, you're not very good at it. This mentality discourages us from educating the public about the breadth and depth of our profession, allowing misinformation to persist.

The reluctance to engage in technical work poses a serious threat not just to the individual, but also to our profession. If fewer Landscape Architects develop technical expertise, our role in project development weakens. When we devalue construction documentation, specifications, and other critical tasks, we cede ground to adjacent professions, making it easier for others - contractors, engineers, and even hobbyists - to encroach upon our work.

This issue is particularly alarming given recent legislative threats to licensure. In my home state of Virginia, special interest groups have attempted to dismantle landscape architecture licensure, allowing unqualified individuals to adopt the title "Landscape Architect." Most recently in 2019, Virginia House Bill 2101 aimed to deregulate the profession by eliminating licensure requirements for Landscape Architects. The bill proposed removing references to landscape architecture from the Code of Virginia but ultimately stalled in committee.

More recently, in 2021, another bill sought to remove licensure requirements despite a prior determination by the Department of Professional and Occupational Regulation (DPOR) that landscape architecture licensure was justified as necessary for public protection. Thanks to advocacy efforts from the Virginia Chapter of ASLA, landscape architecture was ultimately excluded from the bill, but the attempt highlights an ongoing threat to our profession.

If we continue to undervalue licensing and technical expertise within our own ranks, we risk making it easier for external forces to erode our credibility.

Final Thoughts
To strengthen landscape architecture, we must embrace both the artistic and technical sides of our work. We must mentor young designers to respect the full scope of our profession. And, most importantly, we must educate the public, not just impress our peers. There are so many talented, dynamic, and intelligent people in our beautiful profession who make up so many of the beautiful branches on the same tree, contributing very important individual subject matter expertise as well as broader goals that influence world governments in our protection of the planet. But why do Landscape Architects need to act like such ("......-....."s)?

About the Author
Kirk Bereuter, PLA, ASLA, CLARB, ISA, is the owner/founder of KBLA (Kirk Bereuter Landscape Architecture, LLC), a landscape architecture design firm founded in 2010 and located in Alexandria, Virginia. Some of his design work specialties include traditional landscape architecture projects within high-end residential, institutional, K-12, and agritourism, which have found recent publication within Landscape Architect & Specifier News (LASN) and ASLA's publication.

As seen in LASN magazine, October 2025.