Last month, we attended a heated coordination meeting where an architect was trying to explain why a massive return air grille couldn’t simply be “plopped anywhere” in their carefully composed lobby ceiling. The MEP engineer continually referenced code requirements and CFM calculations. The architect continued to discuss sight lines and material transitions. None of them was wrong. However, they might as well have been speaking different languages.
This disconnect occurs more frequently than it should, especially on projects where small and mid-sized architecture firms collaborate with engineering consultants who view MEP systems as purely functional requirements rather than integral components of the architectural vision.
After fifteen years of working with architecture firms across the country—from solo practitioners to 50-person studios—we’ve learned that the best MEP collaborations happen when engineers understand what architects care about, not just what they say they need.
The Real Problems Beyond “Coordination Issues”
Most MEP engineers believe that architects often complain about coordination problems. That’s not quite right. What architects struggle with are design disruption problems that happen to manifest as coordination issues.
Take last-minute equipment changes. An architect informed us about a restaurant project where the kitchen equipment supplier switched from a make-up air unit to a different model three weeks before the ceiling was installed. The new unit was six inches taller. The MEP engineer’s solution? Lower the entire kitchen ceiling. The architect’s response was understandable—that ceiling height was calculated to create specific proportions with the dining room beyond.
Or consider the common sprinkler head dilemma. We’ve seen beautifully detailed wood ceilings get peppered with sprinkler heads that ignore entirely the geometry of the ceiling panels. Code compliant? Absolutely. Architecturally thoughtful? Not even close. The architect spent weeks refining the panel layout, and the fire protection engineer spent fifteen minutes meeting code requirements.
The frustration isn’t really about sprinkler heads or ceiling heights. It’s about feeling like the MEP team doesn’t understand—or doesn’t care—that every spatial decision has been carefully considered.
What Small Firms Need That They Don’t Always Ask For
Smaller architecture firms face a particular challenge. They often lack dedicated technical staff to interpret MEP drawings and identify conflicts early. A 12-person firm might have one person who understands HVAC well enough to spot problems, and that person is usually also managing three other projects.
This creates a specific dynamic. These firms require MEP engineers who can communicate in both architectural and engineering terms. When an engineer says, “We need 18 inches of ceiling plenum for ductwork,” that doesn’t tell the architect much. When they say “the ductwork will require us to drop the ceiling to 9′-4″ in the corridor, which will affect the proportion of your storefront windows,” now we’re talking the same language.
We learned this lesson on a small office renovation in Portland. The architect was a three-person firm, and their principal was brilliant at space planning but relied entirely on consultants for technical systems. Our first coordination drawing showed ductwork running exactly where they’d planned a floating ceiling feature that was central to the design concept.
Instead of just flagging a “conflict,” we sketched three alternative routing options, explained the spatial implications of each, and recommended the one that would preserve the ceiling feature while only requiring a small soffit in a less visible area. The architect later told us it was the first time an engineer had explained not just what was wrong, but what the alternatives meant for their design.
The Economics of Late Changes
Here’s something architects often don’t articulate clearly: late-stage MEP changes don’t just disrupt design—they can significantly impact project budgets, especially for smaller firms working on tight margins.
A typical scenario involves an architect spending the design development phase refining ceiling plans, coordinating with lighting designers, specifying fixtures, and working out construction details. The contractor prices the work based on those drawings. Then the MEP engineer realizes the ductwork won’t fit as drawn and proposes changes that require reworking the entire ceiling strategy.
For a large firm with dedicated project managers and technical staff, this might mean a few late nights and some awkward client conversations. For a small firm, it can mean incurring $15,000 in redesign costs or having an uncomfortable conversation with a client about change orders.
We’ve seen this pattern repeatedly. Small architecture firms absorb MEP coordination problems as business losses because they lack the project scale or overhead structure to pass these costs along efficiently.
Getting Involved Earlier “The Right Way”
Most MEP engineers recognize the importance of getting involved in projects at an earlier stage. The question is how to do it without overstepping or creating more work for already-stretched architecture teams.
The key is offering the right kind of input at the right time. During schematic design, architects don’t need detailed equipment schedules or final duct sizing. They need to understand space requirements, approximate equipment locations, and any significant constraints that might affect their part.
One approach that has worked well is to provide what we call “spatial budgets” during the early design phases. Instead of detailed MEP drawings, we give the architects simple diagrams that show approximate space requirements for major systems. Something like: “HVAC equipment will need about 8’x12′ of roof space, utility rooms should be roughly 6’x10′ on each floor, and central ductwork will need 2-3 feet of ceiling plenum in these general areas.”
This provides architects with the necessary information to make informed spatial decisions without requiring them to commit to final MEP strategies prematurely.
A Different Kind of Case Study
We want to share a project story, but not the usual “everything went perfectly” version that no one believes.
We collaborated on a small mixed-use building in Denver with a four-person architecture firm, focusing on the three-floor apartment and the ground-floor retail space. The architect had a clear vision — to maintain street-level transparency with minimal mechanical intrusions and utilize the building’s thermal mass for enhanced energy efficiency.
The initial HVAC strategy appeared straightforward. A VRF system with small indoor units, minimal ductwork, and outdoor units located on the roof. Simple, clean, architecturally minimal.
Then we got into the details. The retail tenant was a coffee roaster that required significant ventilation for its equipment. The building’s concrete structure, which the architect intended to leave exposed for thermal mass, made running refrigerant lines a complicated task. And the local utility rebate program strongly favored central systems over VRF.
Three months into the project, we had to tell the architect that our original strategy wasn’t going to work.
What we did differently was to schedule a half-day working session with the architect to walk through the alternatives together, rather than just proposing a new mechanical system. We presented rough sketches illustrating how different approaches would impact their architectural priorities. We developed a hybrid solution—a ground-floor VAV system for the coffee roaster, small splits for the apartments, with carefully coordinated mechanical chases that enhanced the building’s visual logic rather than detracting from it.
The project took longer than initially planned, and there were some tense conversations. However, the final result was better than the original concept, and the architect gained sufficient knowledge about the systems to make more informed decisions on future projects.
What This Means in Practice
For small and medium-sized architecture firms, the ideal MEP engineer is more of a collaborator than a consultant. Someone who can translate between the language of BTUs and CFMs and the language of proportions and light quality.
This doesn’t mean compromising technical requirements or cutting corners on performance. It means understanding that in good architecture, the technical and the aesthetic aren’t separate problems to be solved independently—they’re different aspects of the same design challenge.
When mechanical systems are integrated thoughtfully, they can strengthen architectural concepts. Radiant heating that works with concrete floors. Daylight sensors that align with window mullions. Fresh air systems that support natural ventilation strategies.
However, this kind of integration requires MEP engineers who understand architectural priorities and architects who understand system requirements. It necessitates more conversation, more iteration, and greater mutual respect for each discipline’s expertise.
Why Some Collaborations Work Better Than Others
We’ve noticed that successful architect-engineer partnerships usually develop organically rather than being formally structured. They tend to grow out of projects where both sides had to figure something out together, often under pressure.
The Denver project we mentioned earlier taught both us and the architect something valuable: when you’re forced to problem-solve together, you begin to understand how the other person thinks. The architect learned why we couldn’t simply “hide the ductwork somehow,” and we understood why the exposed concrete wasn’t just an aesthetic choice—it was integral to their energy strategy.
This kind of mutual education usually happens by accident, but it doesn’t have to. Some of the best working relationships we’ve seen started with architects who were willing to explain their design thinking, not just their technical requirements. And engineers who asked, “What are you trying to achieve here?” instead of just “What are the loads?”
The scale issue is real, though. Large firms often have technical coordinators who can interface with consultants and serve as a liaison between disciplines. Smaller firms usually don’t have that luxury. The principal architect is often handling design direction, client management, and technical coordination simultaneously. In that context, MEP engineers who can communicate clearly and work within architectural workflows become genuinely valuable partners, not just service providers.
The industry appears to be gradually improving in this regard, partly due to necessity. Schedules are tighter, projects are more complex, and everyone’s margins are thinner. The old model, in which architects design and engineers solve technical problems in isolation, is no longer effective.
