Last week, news broke that Architecture for Humanity, the design nonprofit founded in 1999 by Cameron Sinclair and Kate Stohr to bring better architecture to those in need, had shuttered its San Francisco headquarters, and would be filing for bankruptcy .

The announcement came from a story in the San Francisco Chronicle on Friday, surprising even those running the biggest of Architecture for Humanity’s almost 60 chapters across the world. While the volunteers who ran Architecture for Humanity chapters knew that not all was right in the organization (as one volunteer described it, “people were disappearing” from headquarters), many didn’t find out about the fact that the global nonprofit they were volunteering for had shut its doors, potentially sidelining the projects they had been working on and jeopardizing funds they had raised, until it had been reported in the media–weeks after the full-time staff had been let go. In a way, Architecture for Humanity’s public unraveling mirrors the deeper problems that ultimately contributed to its demise: disorganization, an inability to adapt, and simmering tension between the parent organization and its army of volunteers.

Manhattan Bridge Skatepark, NYC

Architecture for Humanity operated several field offices abroad in addition to its 59 volunteer-run chapters, which could be started by anyone as long as they had a few dues-paying members and at least one architect on board. Its field offices, in places such as Port-au-Prince, Haiti, oversaw the nonprofit’s disaster rebuilding efforts and were financially supported and staffed by Architecture for Humanity. The subsidiary chapters, scattered throughout the U.S. and internationally, pursued local projects in their community, and were dependent on Architecture for Humanity’s institutional support and brand recognition, but didn’t receive monetary support.

“The chapters had known for some time that there were financial issues with headquarters,” says Tom Veed, a member of the board of directors for Architecture for Humanity Chicago. But the Architecture for Humanity board, which as of Tuesday afternoon still had not released any kind of statement, did not notify chapter members of the plan to file for bankruptcy. (The board’s chairman confirmed the news to the New York Times on Saturday.) Veed–whose chapter is made up of more than 800 volunteers–found out via an emailed statement from Sinclair, who stepped down as the organization’s executive director in October 2013.* (Stohr, his co-founder and wife, left earlier that year.)

Maeami-hama Community House, Japan

The group’s challenges were apparent long before this. As Architect magazine noted in a profile of Architecture for Humanity in 2011:

It’s doubtful that even [Cameron] Sinclair knows exactly what all Architecture for Humanity does. At a glance, the organization coordinates architects in regions where their services are scarce or distressed. Architecture for Humanity promotes a broad network of young professionals through its design fellowship program and chapter organizations. Through this outreach network—and the requests for proposals it fields for clients as well as collaborations with other for-profit and nonprofit firms—Architecture for Humanity marshals architectural services for communities struck by conflict, natural disasters, and deficits in resources. And that’s just for starters. In the 12 years since the organization took root, in 1999, in a 300-square-foot New York apartment shared by Sinclair and Kate Stohr, Architecture for Humanity has grown. Its San Francisco office employs 36 full-time staffers and manages a small army of volunteers—teams that work to alleviate poverty, build community, and address climate change among at-risk populations. The organization has 17 staffers in Haiti alone. Yet it also declines 70 percent of the projects it is pitched—it just can’t get to them.

Architecture for Humanity grew rapidly in the past few years. From 2009 to 2013, it went from $2 million in annual revenue to $12 million, according to a strategic plan for the organization posted online by Cameron Sinclair in the fall of 2013. That plan reveals that even then, Architecture for Humanity had several weaknesses, including that “autonomous chapters are under-supported, under-leveraged,” and a “lack of consistent funding streams.” The plan warned that “lack of focus could spread resources too thin.” Last week, Matt Charney, the chairman of Architecture for Humanity’s board, admitted to the New York Times that there were several cost overruns on projects. Some remain unfinished, like a school in the Philippines and rebuilding projects in parts of New Jersey damaged by Hurricane Sandy and in tornado-ravaged regions of Oklahoma. A community center in Roškovce, Slovakia opened in early December just before the nonprofit folded.

Mitazono Wakaba Kindergarten, Japan

Structurally, it appears that Architecture for Humanity could not keep up with its expanding global footprint. The group had a more than $2 million budget deficit and had gone through several rounds of layoffs before it closed. According to the New York Times, that the group tried to cut costs by reducing its payroll and moving to smaller offices. However, by the end of the year, that was not enough to keep the company afloat, and it laid off its staff of almost 30 people.