Amid all the chaos emanating from the new administration, architects nationwide are bracing for another battle: Trump’s threatened classical-only mandate for federal buildings.
This looming decree pits Trump’s neoclassical nostalgists — who seem to believe slapping columns on something magically creates timeless architecture — against those who understand that meaningful design emerges from wrestling with contemporary challenges.
Trump’s order, which mandates that federal public buildings should be “visually identifiable as civic buildings” to “uplift and beautify public spaces,” has already received criticism from the American Institute of Architects. Stating the need for freedom in architecture, the institute states that its members believe “the design of federal buildings must first be responsive to the people and communities who use those buildings.”
This pushback, however, encompasses more than the freedom of expression. Members are “extremely concerned about any revisions that remove control from communities.” In short, mandating federal aesthetics minimizes the fluidity of people and place by limiting federal architecture to a time rife with white supremacy.
Trump’s first-term stab at Greco-Roman dominance in December 2020 labeled modern architecture as “ugly and inconsistent,” demeaning the impact of innovative design and the people who shape it. While neo-traditionalists pine for an idealized past that never actually existed, serious designers recognize that architecture must authentically engage with today’s materials, technologies and social conditions rather than retreat into costume drama. This brewing conflict isn’t merely aesthetic. It represents fundamentally different conceptions of how architecture should serve and preserve society’s past, present and future.
Historic preservation is not about freezing buildings in amber, like prehistoric mosquitoes. Good preservationists understand that buildings, like the societies that built them, aren’t static. They recognize that the Parthenon was cutting-edge in its day — not some retro throwback. When we thoughtfully restore or adapt historic structures, we’re honoring their innovative spirit, not just their superficial stylistic peculiarities.
Meanwhile, thoughtful contemporary design speaks authentically to our moment. Take the National Museum of African American History and Culture. That building isn’t trying to be something it’s not. It is having a respectful conversation with its neighbors on the National Mall while boldly expressing its unique purpose — no powdered wigs or knee breeches required.
Then there’s simplistic historicism — architectural cosplay that misses the point entirely. People who fall into this camp seem to think slapping pediments and gilt-covered nonsense on a building magically imbues it with classical virtue. But Thomas Jefferson himself was constantly tinkering with classical forms at his Monticello estate, adapting them for American materials and needs. He was an architectural hacker, not a copycat.
Mandating a one-style-fits-all approach to federal buildings makes about as much sense as requiring all government employees to communicate via quill pen. A courthouse in Phoenix has different needs than one ...
