We are talking about design competitions that emerge from the ground up - initiated by local need, or by the untapped potential to create meaningful and positive change for a place. These are not top-down exercises, but collaborative, adaptive processes that remain open and transparent at every stage - from organisation through to judging - such that communities, promoters, supporters, and even potential sponsors can recognise genuine value in a process that stands apart from conventional models of design selection.

The aim is to establish a framework that communities can trust, draw upon, and apply - even to the point of committing their own skills, labour, and resources. It is a ‘think global, act local’ philosophy: enabling communities to take charge of their own built environment, and to generate design solutions that respond directly to their immediate cultural, environmental, and economic conditions. In doing so, there is the opportunity to re-establish a design continuity - where the use of locally-sourced materials and vernacular techniques gives rise to a contemporary language that feels rooted, distinct, and authentic.

Crucially, the competition model itself can evolve through experience. It can become a tool for knowledge-sharing - even resource-sharing - between communities, while also helping to refine collective approaches to funding and project delivery.

So, given all this potential, why are community competitions so rarely discussed - let alone implemented? Is it simply a lack of knowledge about how to begin? Or is it because such processes disrupt the interests of established industries?

It has to be said: the UK does not have a strong track record when it comes to the use of competitions to select artists, architects, and landscape designers. Yes, decisions are often contentious – but unlike in many European countries, where the competition process is an established part of procurement, the UK tends to approach it inconsistently, and too often with misplaced optimism.

In much of Europe, competitions are launched only once key issues have been resolved – the politics, finances, site constraints, public engagement, and the transparency of process. As a result, when a winning proposal is announced, the mechanism for delivery is already in place. The design is implemented. Built. Realised.

In the UK, sadly, the opposite is often true. Design competitions in Scotland - and across the UK - have for decades stumbled at the first hurdle. Rather than establishing clarity in advance, competitions here are frequently used in the naive belief that the process itself will resolve political conflict or unlock funding. The result is depressingly familiar: winning proposals that never move beyond publication, and projects that attract bad press rather than support.

Worse still are the competitions that exploit designers’ labour - inviting free submissions without reward, or structuring fees to be contingent on planning approval. Some even demand that entrants include a low-fee quote as part of their submission. This puts winners under sustained economic pressure, while offering nothing to the many practices and individuals whose entries are rejected, despite having invested significant time, drawings, models, and material costs - often running to thousands of pounds.

Because of this, UK design competitions have developed a poor reputation. Many architects and artists are understandably reluctant to participate - recognising that open calls often involve high risk, high effort, and little chance of either reward or recognition. Add to this an opaque judging process, often with no feedback, and it begins to feel less like a meaningful opportunity and more like a lottery with poor odds.

Yes. For example, there are developer-led competitions, which typically involve a pre-selected shortlist of designers invited to submit proposals in response to a specific brief – whether for a sculpture, a building, a landscape design, or another defined outcome. In such cases, the developer will usually have a comprehensive brief prepared, finances secured (or contingent on planning approval), and a site identified.

Shortlisted individuals or teams are often given a design budget, with the expectation that their proposals will be well-resolved and near-deliverable. The outcome may include a monetary prize, but more often it is the commission itself that is awarded. The terms of engagement, judging process, and level of transparency vary significantly between competitions, and public consultation may or may not form part of the process.

In Scotland, design competitions have also been used - albeit infrequently - for major public projects, such as the Burrell Collection, the Museum of Scotland, the Scottish Parliament, the Riverside Museum, the V&A Dundee, and Perth Museum. These opportunities, while significant, are rare. Some were open competitions; others invited. But crucially, the processes applied across these projects have lacked consistency.

Unlike European models, where design competition frameworks are well-established, transparent, and democratically structured, Scotland still lacks a coherent and reliable system for commissioning public architecture. There is a strong case - now more than ever - for adopting a clearly defined and trusted framework for public design procurement, grounded in openness, accountability, and cultural value.

In many European countries, Ideas Competitions are relatively common. In these competitions, it is clearly understood from the outset that the winning design is not intended to be built. The objective is to explore potential solutions to a particular design opportunity, without any claim that political support, funding, or a defined site is in place for future realisation.

While a successful entry may later catalyse these conditions - securing backing, budget, and a location - this is not guaranteed, nor is it part of the formal promise of the process.

Ideas competitions offer several advantages, particularly for early-career designers and smaller practices. They tend to require relatively modest investment in time and resources, and can generate valuable publicity - whether through self-promotion or via the competition organisers. Their core ambition is straightforward: to produce a range of possible approaches to a defined challenge, and in doing so, to stimulate public interest, professional debate, and appreciation of emerging talent.

Crucial to the success of an ideas competition is that the brief remains open-ended, and the submission requirements are kept to a minimum. Entries are typically anonymous, and public exhibition of all proposals is a key component – often forming part of the judging process itself. In some cases, a shortlist selected by a named jury may be subject to a public vote before a winner is announced.

One notable example is the original ideas competition for a tower on the southwest corner of St Enoch’s Square in Glasgow. The winning proposal – a tall structure designed to swivel in the wind, responding playfully to the city’s prevailing weather – was not initially intended to be built. However, the idea was later taken forward and adapted as part of the Glasgow Science Centre development, where the tower now acts as a prominent visual marker on the Clyde.

Given the range of competition formats, it’s no surprise there’s confusion about their value - particularly among designers whose entries aren’t selected. But in their best form, design competitions serve a democratic purpose: they engage the public, respond to their concerns and enthusiasms, and give even the smallest communities a role in shaping the cultural development of the places they live and work.

People know their places intimately. But a well-conceived competition can open up new ways of thinking - offering design solutions that expand their view of what’s possible, and that enhance their everyday experience of the built environment.

The challenge, of course, is getting started. But with time and practice, the process can be refined into something trusted and repeatable - a standard route for communities to chart their own path forward. For this reason, it makes sense to begin with a community ideas competition, such as the one currently proposed for Portobello.

Portobello has a rich mix of engaged residents and creative talent. With close involvement from the local population and a clear, focused brief, there’s real potential to generate enthusiasm and to build momentum. If handled with care - with clarity about what is and isn’t expected - this project could set a precedent for others. A bar to learn from. A process to adapt.

Over time, a well-structured competition model can build trust - not just within communities, but with politicians, planners, funders, and sponsors. These are the partner relationships from which real momentum grows, and from which community-led realisation projects - actual buildings, spaces, and infrastructure - can emerge.

It will take work. It will take commitment. But honestly - what’s not to like?