King Richard the last?

In a statement this week Goldschmied said he was looking to pursue personal projects particularly with charities, but there have been reports of a "difficult and edgy" atmosphere at the firm in recent months. Although Goldschmied says he has been contemplating the move for 18 months, what seems fairly certain is that this was not the way that RRP was hoping to manage the succession from the founding generation of Rogers, Goldschmied, John Young and Mike Davies to the heirs apparent, such as Graham Stirk and Ivan Harbour.

RRP does not hold the copyright in this problem. Succession is an issue for a whole generation of signature architects: Rogers is 71, his former partner Norman Foster is 69 as is Sir Michael Hopkins, and Sirs Terry Farrell and Nicholas Grimshaw are 65. This class of architectural nobility has dominated the British architecture scene for 20 years, but the time has perhaps come for them to decide who will carry on their legacies. The younger generation, those in their 40s, are eager to take over the mantle.

The signature architects have a few questions to ponder. Do they want their practices to keep their name? Do they want to stick around themselves? And, most importantly of all, who is going to succeed them?

It might be expected that these firms would have decided the answers to these questions long ago; it is not clear that they all have.

Grimshaw has a detailed succession plan, but many of the others have either sketchy details or will not reveal their proposals publicly.

Hopkins says his strategy is "a continuing devolution of leadership, management and ownership to senior people who have been with the practice more than 10 years". Foster and Partners recently restructured into six key divisions after the departure of Foster's right-hand man and possible successor, Ken Shuttleworth (8 April, page 11). The practice said it is working on plans that will be published in December. Farrell's practice, which recently lost Aidan Potter and Doug Streeter, its two obvious heirs, declined to comment. If any of these practices' key men walked into the path of a Number 38 tomorrow, there is probably no finalised succession strategy among many of the country's top architects.

Grimshaw's succession plan seems to be well designed. It formally allows chairman Grimshaw to take a back seat as he travels the world as the firm's ambassador. And he appointed Keith Brewis to the board last year to "spearhead the new generation" of talented young architects in Fitzroy Square. Brewis' job is to spot the rising stars among the associate directors.

We’ve agreed the methodology for succession. It’s been done not by edict, but by discussion

Tim Hamilton, Hamilton Associates

Most importantly, it gives clear guidelines on what Grimshaw's four main men will do. The equity partners – Christopher Nash, Andrew Whalley, Neven Sidor and David Harriss – will gradually assume a larger chunk of the business from Grimshaw. This should reduce one of the key gripes often made in the signature firms, which is that the figurehead receives the lion's share of the cash as well as the plaudits for what is always a team effort. The other side of the deal is that all four will retire when they are 60.

"We're happy because we feel we're well prepared for the future succession of the practice, compared with what we hear about our peers," says Nash, Grimshaw's managing director. "We've had outside commentators coming up to us and saying 'You seem to be well sorted out'."

Bill Taylor, Hopkins' managing director, also insists that his firm's future is well-plotted. He refuses to discuss the detail of Hopkins' personal exit strategy, but says there is a "system devised". The system is there to ensure that those on the lower rungs of the company's ladder see a future for themselves at the practice: "The main aim is for all the younger people to think that it's not all about Michael, Patty (Hopkins' wife and joint chairman) and myself," he says.

The problem extends beyond the signature names. At Hamilton Associates, plans have been made for Tim Hamilton, its chairman. He has signed a 10-year contract, under which he will gradually hand over responsibilities and equity to others. "It wasn't easy to put in place," says Hamilton. "But what we've done is get the methodology for succession agreed so everyone's 100% clear. And it's been done not by edict, but by discussion."

Paul Hyett, former RIBA president, foresees a passing of the era of the founding "names". Architects, he says, should be more like engineers such as Arup, where the charisma of founder Ove Arup has been routinised into the Arup brand.

Hyett argues that charismatic leaders are, by their nature, oppressive. Unless there are abundant tangible rewards for success, individuals will grow frustrated in a firm that is dominated by a single personality. "People will stay if they can see quality clients, quality resources and the freedom to contribute to the architectural advancement of the firm," he says. "But you also want recognition and the money for doing it." Star architects are less inclined to leave if there is a set structure, a clear path through which they can progress to join the board, get the recognition and pocket the resulting cash.

His theory does seem to be borne out by what the younger firms are doing. Many of the newest outfits such as FAT Architecture and Make have consciously avoided adopting the identity of the founder.

But even if the tide has turned, there are some who will try to swim against it. Chris Darling of Darling Associates points out that there is always a temptation to hang on. "You get a talented bloke who sets up the firm, gets clients and grows throughout his career, partly on the back of his personality," he says. "Then he gets to a point in his 60s when he thinks 'what's my life going to be? A villa in Tuscany or the cut and thrust of business in London?' Most of them carry on; it's difficult to pull away." An example is Will Alsop: he does not want the name of his practice changed until he dies, retirement or not.