The Sagrada Familia might be the most selfless act of creativity in history.

Due for completion in 2026, the magnum opus of Catalan architect Antoni Gaudí had its first stone laid in March 1882. Gaudí dedicated much of his later life to the project, fully aware that he would not see its completion, now over 140 years later.

Referring to God, Gaudí famously said, "My client is not in a hurry."

Were it not for the long-term view, this monument of inimitable artistic and engineering achievement would not have broken ground, endured the Spanish Civil War, or the post-war economic climate, or inspired the generations of dedicated artisans required to bring it to life. It wouldn’t have led to the architectural innovation or the four million people drawn to the basilica each year, many by its capacity to reaffirm their faith.

Now, think about your last two projects.

Make it the last ten. I’ll do this with you.

How many of those were not made in a hurry, either for completion or for their return on investment or time? How many were intended to endure a decade or more? Perhaps even ask how many of them didn’t somehow discount the future.

If Gaudí’s vision and devotion feel alien, you would not be alone.

A short-term world

To undertake any creative act today means to do so in a world that looks very unfamiliar to that of Antoni Gaudí in the late 19th century.

In search of this generation’s Sagrada Familia, we could ask, “Who is taking the long-term view today?” A more important question might be more confining: “Is anyone able to?”

Today, public companies prioritise quarterly earnings, and around 40% of S&P 500 CEOs have tenures ranging from just one to five years. Startups are funded with the expectation of an exit after around seven years, and while some of the 1% of startups that reach that point live on, many of those are subsumed. Names, teams and technology get sunsetted. The fashion industry is designed around disposable trends, meaning the average consumer buys roughly twice as many clothes as in 2010 but keeps them for about half as long. The tech industry favours obsolescence over repair, and healthcare systems, which I know something about, focus on acute treatment rather than prevention.

“Move fast and break things” probably sounded cool as it first echoed in the halls of Facebook. Two decades later — with the cost of that mantra regarding privacy, misinformation, and mental health so visible — decidedly less cool.

Designers, entrepreneurs, and creatives have a duty of care to the people who are the intended recipients of their work. The good ones know this and execute accordingly. I wonder, in this world as opposed to Gaudí’s, how often they consider the timeframe of that duty of care.

To conduct something with the long-term view seems obvious and important. Pragmatic. With or without spiritual beliefs. In which case, why is it so rare? Does it even matter? It feels like it matters. We certainly have admonition from its absence.

If we want more Sagradas, whatever the discipline or industry, and surely we do want that, we’ll need tools to lift the pressure and charm of immediate results that overshadow the value of long-term planning and execution. We can start by taking lessons from Cathedral Thinking, a term used to show the benefits of following people like Gaudí, who undertook multi-generational projects and then to consider a missing argument for taking the long-term view today.

Lessons from Cathedral Thinking

Cathedral Thinking is a term first linked to the builders of medieval Europe (and later to Gaudí) that refers to a collective endeavour for the sake of or for the benefit of future generations. These projects consider the future to be something that matters in equal measure to the needs and desires of today.

Gaudí was, of course, deeply religious, and he saw his work largely as a spiritual undertaking. That said, we can still benefit from the following three lessons of Cathedral Thinking even if the divine is put to one side.

1. Satisfaction in the process of creation itself
   One of the major barriers to taking the long-term view is the risk to recognition. Time brings uncertainty. What if others beat us to it? What if Tech Giant 1 releases the same feature as our product? What if today’s behavioural norm becomes the exception? Every creative person wants to point to something they have made, first for celebration as a source of pride and second for reflection, to see what can be improved. If that moment is deferred too long, or there is a question of whether it will arrive at all, starting the creative process can be less seductive. One of the first things clouded, or lost entirely, in a world of short-termism is to find satisfaction in the making rather than just in the made. Significant achievements require patience and time, two things that, today, can start to look like a threat to the creative act. Cathedral Thinking is a reminder not to make the outcome of completion the sole source of fulfilment but to find smaller moments of celebration and reflection along the way.
2. Communities and custodianship
   Short-termism means speed: faster creation, faster outcomes, faster rewards. Get to the future as fast as possible. This comes with an illusion of efficiency in solitude, the thought that working alone simplifies or removes friction from the creative act. Cathedral Thinking is a reminder that cathedrals, like any significant achievement, are not built by a single person. It shows that collaboration, despite its complexities and coordination challenges, results in bigger, more comprehensive outcomes. Cathedral Thinking also considers that when a community works on something greater than each individual, it acts as a unifying force in society. A way to bridge or avoid division. It also advocates for ethical custodianship of resources available to the community and to formalise practices that ensure their longevity. ‘Custodianship’ compresses the psychological distance created with the use of words like ‘sustainability’, which are usually defined in global terms and, for many, too abstract to act on.
3. Foundation for breakthrough
   Creative or technological breakthroughs require years of foundational research and development. Commitment to long-term goals enables skill sets to broaden and deepen, as well as the exploration of complex ideas rather than quick wins. Cathedral Thinking is a reminder of the risks of overvaluing novelty — the tendency to disproportionately prioritise new ideas, products, or experiences over those more established simply because they are novel. This might manifest as a series of shifts in direction to pursue the next new thing, often at the expense of developing deep expertise or fully realising the potential of the existing idea. Many entrepreneurs fall into this category.

The themes behind Cathedral Thinking make perfect sense. I, for one, find it difficult to see any upside in the opposing stance. They are great reminders of the ideals we should hold our work to.

But they still miss something for the creative in today’s world.

They all sound deeply uncommercial.

None of them, however vital, translate easily into helping someone build and scale a business or find financial freedom with their work. We need to combine Cathedral Thinking with something else.

A missing argument

Consider trust as a case for taking the long-term view.

Trust is the antithesis of short-termism and it supports the commercial creative act.

Why do we want to be trusted? If we want our audiences to become fans and accredit the integrity of our work, that relies on trust. If we want the option of premium pricing, differentiation is tied to the creator’s reputation and the audience’s belief in the added value. If we want our audience’s investment (financial, time or attention), which always carries risk, trust will mitigate that perceived risk. And if we want to benefit from word-of-mouth, the trusted creator will be more likely evangelised by their audience.

Commitment to a long-term project, in general, creates trust. It shows that you mean it. It’s a signal about the value and seriousness of the venture. People who visibly invest years-long or decades-long effort into something are perceived as having more to lose, enhancing the perception of the project's value and trust in the creator. It’s admirable. They will see the time taken to hone the skill and the hard decisions to discount fleeting trends in favour of something more truthful.

Lasting relationships are also built on trust. If we want to pursue the big ambiguous challenges, we need collaborators. Cathedral Thinking tells us that. Focusing on trust makes this more actionable. We need to build relationships in a way that doesn’t pillage them for short-term gain. We want these collaborators to work with us on something hard through the highs and lows, the late nights, and to make additional connections to their network when uncertainty or lack of knowledge strikes. And it always does. That requires trust. Short-termism turns everything transactional, including relationships.

And finally, trust has a characteristic which is beautifully unforgiving of the short term. It is hard-fought but easily lost. It is not something we can do once. It is not a parlour trick. It doesn’t take the form of an apparition.

Guadí said his client was not in a hurry.

Trust, too, is not in a hurry.

Ian