Stop scoring points and look up

There was a post on LinkedIn recently that opened with a question: Why do so many AssocRICS members try to hide their status? The premise was presented as fact, but it was merely an assumption without evidence—just one person’s opinion framed to provoke debate. The comments flooded in, proving the tactic effective. This wasn’t an observation; it was bait.

This kind of divisive rhetoric isn’t isolated. A long-standing feud between damp and timber specialists and chartered surveyors persists, with each side criticizing the other’s methods, mistakes, and trustworthiness. Both are at fault, yet none of this debate benefits the client. The client never sees it, and it changes nothing for them. The real issue? Professionals expending energy on infighting instead of serving the people who pay for their work.

When I encounter someone whose primary contribution to this profession is criticizing others, I question their motives. If your role in this industry revolves around pointing out colleagues’ flaws, it reveals more about you than them. The original post is a perfect example. The core flaw in these arguments? They hinge on the idea that the letters after a name define a professional. They don’t.

Letters signify a path taken and an assessment passed on a given day. They’re a useful signal, but not a measure of competence. I’ve worked with surveyors boasting the most prestigious credentials who I wouldn’t trust with a client, and others with fewer or different letters whom I’d entrust with the most complex tasks. Anyone running a firm knows this: letters aren’t the person, and they’re certainly not the work.

While segments of the profession obsess over rankings by designation, real challenges loom. Artificial intelligence is transforming how work is done, and it’s not waiting for anyone to adapt. Clients are already using AI to generate reports and draft complaints before surveyors even finish their work. Inside firms, employees are quietly using unvetted AI tools without oversight, often unbeknownst to leadership. A mandatory professional standard on AI is already in effect, yet most firms are far from compliant. Insurers are now asking about AI at renewal.

The workforce itself is shifting. The average surveyor is in their mid-fifties, and a significant portion of building surveyors are expected to retire within five years, taking their expertise with them. The pipeline for new talent is leaky: many graduates never pursue chartership, and over half leave the profession entirely. No one can pinpoint why. The APC’s reputation for being difficult and inconsistent deters good candidates before they even begin.

Beneath these issues lies a lack of support rarely discussed openly. Sole practitioners and small firms carry enormous risk with no safety net, no peers to consult, and no clear exit strategy. Valuers, in particular, face tightening professional indemnity coverage. For many firms, red tape consumes more time than fee-earning work.

I don’t describe these challenges from a distance. As a trustee of Lionheart—the charity supporting professionals in this field—I’ve seen firsthand how these pressures affect real people, their health, and their families. These aren’t abstract trends; they’re personal crises.

The most critical issue, though, is the profession’s identity crisis. The public doesn’t understand what surveyors do or why they matter. Surveying is often an afterthought, if considered at all. This lack of clarity and respect is the real threat to professional identity—not debates about credentials.

When someone expresses concern about professional identity, I take it seriously. But the pressure comes from technology reshaping the job, an aging workforce retiring faster than it’s replaced, a public unaware of the value surveyors provide, and the human toll of these challenges. It doesn’t come from letters after a name.

Here’s my unfiltered view: Stop. Stop the infighting over designations. Stop the point-scoring between disciplines that never reaches the client. This isn’t about standards—it’s ego, and the profession can’t afford it right now.

The path forward belongs to those who focus on the work, bring in talent through any viable route, support each other, and stop treating the profession as a hierarchy to police. Grow up, unite around the real challenges ahead, and get to work. We don’t have the time or people to waste on anything else.