The consequence is that, in compromising the integrity of his work, he necessarily builds his own practice upon a shifting foundation.
His work belongs to the well-populated class of the good-enough.

It can have little distinctive excellence; and it cannot, by its peculiar force and quality, attract a clientele.

Presumably, it has the merit of satisfying prevailing tastes; but the architect, who is designing only as well as popular tastes will permit, suffers under one serious disadvantage.

There are hundreds of his associates who can do it just as well; and he is necessarily obliged to face demoralizing competition.
Inasmuch as it is not his work itself that counts, he is obliged to build up his clientele by other means.

He is obliged to make himself personally popular, to seek social influence and private "pulls"; and his whole life becomes that of a man who is selling his personality instead of fulfilling it.