We were recently approached by a few architects with some concerns about an architectural competition where they experienced severe systemic failures. Although they approached the organisers for a resolution before this step, they only received unprofessional responses. Our investigation found that more than 90% of their concerns were valid and required a professional resolution.
In the interest of ethics, transparency, and to understand the perspectives of all the stakeholders, we approached the organisers. But their unprofessional responses to our queries shocked us. Though they promptly regretted their initial reaction [after we pointed it out], what came after was somewhat expected. The original complainants withdrew from the issue, for reasons one can clearly assume.
Architectural competitions in India have been fragile, inconsistent, and often underutilised. They appear, create a ripple of excitement, and usually, fade into silence—with results unannounced, projects shelved, or participants left disillusioned. Competitions marred by controversies for reasons ranging from a lack of clarity in briefings and evaluation processes to issues of bribery or unfair practices are concerning, to say the least, but they also undermine the very trust competitions are meant to offer.
And yet, to strike off competitions altogether would mean to overlook their potential. For architecture in India, especially post-independence, time and again, these competitions have contributed to nation-building, encouraging practices, whether large or small.
A design from an unknown architect can suddenly become the benchmark for a generation, as happened with Jørn Utzon’s winning proposal for the Sydney Opera House, one of many such examples worldwide. For emerging architects, design competitions often become the first stage where their work is judged on merit alone; they offer a parallel route to recognition.
Similarly, for a young practice like WeBe Design Lab, it was a turning point when they won the National War Memorial competition. It became an example of how a young practice could contribute to a project of national significance. Similarly, firms like SpaceMatters, architectureRED, and localground built their early reputations through competition entries. Their participation and winning were something that challenged conventions, expanded possibilities, and set a new benchmark for Indian design.
Reflecting on their experience of participating in one such competition, Yogesh Chandrahasan from WeBe Design Lab notes: “The competition was transformative—new scale, new collaborators, and a chance to prove a young firm could deliver a national landmark. Yet in India, most competitions collapse after the results; winners are often denied projects. Mandating clear briefs, budgets, and transparent processes is the only way forward.”
(Read detailed response HERE)
Anupam Bansal of ABRD Architects, reflecting on the design competitions his firm participated in, mentions how his firm has stayed busy with competitions for over two decades—“often by winning, but mostly by losing them.” Yet, for him, the true value lay in how competitions “fired our imagination,” enabling explorations that questioned and stretched the design brief itself.
While winning and losing are definitely the binary expected outcomes, we cannot consider them to be the only ones when we are taught the importance of process in our schools of architecture.
Competitions are instrumental in giving a platform for democratic conversation around design and the built environment, platforms of experimentation, and, at their best, mechanisms of visibility for a profession that often struggles with transparency and inequity.
Besides contributing to the community, the design competitions have and continue to contribute to the genesis of projects, be it through their construction, associating with a social/environmental issue, or conservation. Bamiyan Cultural Centre in Afghanistan, Guggenheim Helsinki competition, Gwangju Biennale Pavilion competition in South Korea. Closer home, we have had competitions like Takshila Educational Society’s PAHAL competition and Bihar Museum in Bihar and the CoA’s Centre for Excellence in Bengaluru, which have catalysed innovation and served as instruments of social healing.
Competitions, in this sense, greatly equalise architecture—proving that creativity, not privilege, decides the future of living environments. They raise the standard of public architecture by ensuring that multiple visions are tested before a project is realised. They also act as regulatory tools, demanding that briefs be respected, evaluations be transparent, and outcomes be accountable.
They can democratise opportunity, regulate the profession, and inspire the public. More importantly, they can offer hope to the next generation of architects, hope that ideas matter, that merit counts, and that architecture can be a field where fairness is the rule, not the exception.
This is exactly why we still need competitions to happen.
Many would agree when I say that abandoning competitions would only deepen existing problems. Despite occasional challenges, they remain an outstanding platform that opens doors to fresh ideas and bold experimentation. Without them, opportunities will remain concentrated among a handful of established firms. Young practitioners will continue to struggle for visibility and validation. And, public projects might risk defaulting to mediocrity.
Competitions are rarely just about who designs the best building. They are about signalling that ideas matter, that voices from far margins are valued, and that architecture is a shared cultural profession rather than a private transaction.
However, many architectural competitions in India for public projects remain inaccessible to younger firms due to prohibitive eligibility criteria such as annual turnover requirements, years of practice, or minimum team size specifications. These barriers paradoxically undermine the very democratic ideals competitions are meant to uphold, excluding precisely those practitioners who might bring fresh perspectives and innovative solutions to public architecture.
Several practitioners and educators have long called for strengthening the culture of competition in India.
For some, the journey began with promise. “Winning my first national competition at 26 gave me direction—competitions taught us to question briefs, innovate, and collaborate,” recalls Suditya Sinha from SpaceMatters. “But today, corruption, tender-based procurement, and mediocrity have made design cheap labour. Without paid, transparent competitions and enforcement of copyright, good ideas remain unbuilt.”
(Read detailed response HERE)
The question of integrity surfaces again in localground founder, Khushru Irani’s experience. “Competitions helped us test ideas, but systemic flaws undermine trust. Some of the competitions we participated in revealed blatant manipulation, political interference, and arbitrary rule changes,” as he recalls. “Until integrity and transparency are guaranteed, competitions in India will remain symbols of broken processes, not opportunities.”
(Read detailed response HERE)
Others point to moments where competitions reshaped their practice, even if the system remains fragile.
From the perspective of practice survival, Jinu Kurien from DesignWorks observes how competitions have different weights. “Open architectural competitions, though rare, offer chances to experiment and leap forward. In India, trust is broken—opaque processes, shallow media awards, and few genuine opportunities. Until a culture of open, public competitions is built, emerging practices will remain marginalised.”
(Read detailed response HERE)
And yet, despite disillusionment, some see the framework as vital if reimagined.
As Ramalakshmi and Surabhi from Samvad Design Studio collectively reflect, “Competitions enrich our practice through an osmosis of ideas, but we need more ‘design-build’ competitions with real sites, budgets, and constraints. Public architecture in India must be opened beyond a handful of firms—only then can competitions make good design accessible to the city, not just private clients.”
(Read detailed response HERE)
For others, the critique runs deeper, touching not only competitions but the discipline itself.
“Frankly, architecture itself in India feels compromised—competitions are no different, lacking background study, fair juries, or critical writing,” says Madhusudhan Chalasani from Studio MADe. “The same few keep winning, while mediocrity thrives. Without integrity or accountability, we are marching nowhere as a community.”
(Read detailed response HERE)
In his own reflections, Madhusudhan frames competitions as an alternative mode of practice for MADe—not simply about winning or building, but about testing, failing, and reimagining ideas. For him, competitions sustain a process of continuity, collaboration, and unfinished exploration; an approach often missing in India’s mainstream practice.
“Architectural competitions and awards lack a certain credibility today, as they fail to assess design entries in-depth and superficially choose winning entries based on how they look from submitted photographs and renders.” – Dean D’Cruz.
These voices converge on one point: without fair and transparent competitions, architecture in India risks shrinking into a closed circle, dominated by a few, stripped of integrity, and drifting away from its purpose of serving the public.
Competitions are not flawed in principle; rather, it is always the need to strengthen how they are conducted. Transparency, open communication, and rigorous documentation are not optional—they are essential if competitions are to remain credible avenues for architectural innovation.
At a time when younger practitioners look to competitions as their entry ticket into the profession, the responsibility is on organisers, juries, and professional bodies to set and maintain standards of integrity. Beyond the winning design, competitions are about collective learning, how briefs are interpreted, how expectations meet reality, and how juries evaluate.
Competitions carry immense promise: they democratise opportunities, bring fresh ideas to the table, and push the profession forward to a global stage. But this promise is only fruitful when processes are robust and outcomes inspire trust. Flawed competitions are both a reminder of what is at stake and a call to action—for clearer briefs, more transparent procedures, and greater accountability. Only then can architectural competitions truly embody the fairness and vision they are meant to represent.
India’s fragile competition culture today should not be read as failure, but as a wake-up call. The fact that participants sometimes step back from voicing concerns publicly reflects the profession’s vulnerability. Yet, their very participation, despite risks, reflects resilience and hope that cannot be taken for granted.
The real question is not whether India can afford to ignore architectural competitions, but whether we are willing to create the conditions for their promise to truly bear fruit.
Edited by: Geethu Gangadhar
Feature Image Credits: Background image © ABRD Architects for Competition Entry for Science City, Guwahati
