Are We Smarter Than Our Ancestors?

Architecture has come a long way. From the simplicity of the nipa hut to the grandeur of Greek temples, from Constructivist experiments to the parametric designs of the modern era, our approach to design, construction methodology, and project management has evolved drastically.

sagrada familia by Antonio gaudy

Or has it?

Our ancestors built what they needed, with minimal footprint and materials tailored to their lifestyle. Their designs responded to location, used local resources, and respected environmental impact. Architecture was not about a single use - it responded to the community, the environment, and the ecosystem.

harbin opera house by mad architects

Modern development is undeniably impressive. Steel allows skyscrapers to soar; Concrete creates monumental Brutalist forms; glass transforms buildings into gleaming façades; aluminum cladding bends buildings into shapes previously unthinkable. All of this is remarkable. But does it truly relate to its environment? Does it belong to its place? Does it enhance the location—or simply dominate it?

This brings me back to the question: Are we smarter than our ancestors?

Take the traditional architecture of my hometown: the nipa hut or bahay kubo. It incorporates solutions that modern architects strive to achieve for high green ratings. Its structure is primarily bamboo - rapidly renewable, carbon-absorbing, minimally processed, and fully biodegradable. The roof is thatched with nipa palm leaves or cogon grass, which regenerate quickly, require no industrial processing, and provide natural ventilation and insulation. Walls use sawali, handwoven bamboo mats that utilize offcuts and create breathable surfaces for passive cooling. Posts and framing are often coconut lumber from old, non-bearing trees, giving new life to agricultural waste. Rattan and coconut coir rope serve as natural connectors, replacing carbon-heavy metal fasteners. Even the footings—river stones or wooden stumps - are locally sourced and require no processing. Every material is renewable, low-carbon, biodegradable, and climate-appropriate, achieving ultra-low embodied energy, zero waste, and climate-responsive performance.

But it’s not just the materials - the design itself is inherently responsible.

The house is raised on stilts to prevent flooding, with the space beneath used as a chicken pen. Long roof eaves provide sun protection, and operable windows offer ventilation for passive cooling and privacy. Rain water is collected with pots called Banga. Our ancestors accounted for all these needs - not from formal education, but from intimate knowledge of the land and its demands. They understood resourcefulness, efficiency, and respect for the ecosystem.

I’m not suggesting we abandon the innovations of today - I still marvel at the works of Norman Foster, Frank Gehry, and Zaha Hadid. Design Studios of teams of designers, Consultants and specialist to advise on every decision. Compared to our ancestors: no degrees, no formal education, yet they built homes that were low-impact, environmentally responsible, and perfectly in tune with the land. They didn’t just build—they lived in harmony with their environment.

Maybe being “smarter” isn’t about technology, awards, or complexity. Maybe it’s about wisdom, humility, and understanding our place in the world. Perhaps the real lesson is this: we may know more, but they knew better.

So, are we smarter than our ancestors? Or have we simply forgotten how to be wise?