On December 18, 2020, an executive order was signed in the United States titled Promoting Beautiful Federal Civic Architecture. It established new guidelines for the design of federal buildings in the U.S. and Puerto Rico. The document proposed favoring architectural styles considered “beautiful,” with special emphasis on classical languages inspired by Greco-Roman antiquity.
The initiative sparked a broad debate across architectural, political, and cultural circles. Some interpreted it as an attempt to rescue an aesthetic historically associated with values such as order, institutional solidity, and permanence. Others, however, expressed concern over what they perceived as a potential limitation to creative freedom and the natural evolution of contemporary architectural design. On February 25, 2021, the Democratic administration revoked the order, but on January 20, 2025, the current administration signed a memorandum seeking to reactivate similar requirements to those in the 2020 executive order.
Beyond political interpretations, this discussion forces us to reflect on the role of public architecture in today’s world. Designing a government building is not merely a question of style; it is a response to multiple social, functional, environmental, and cultural factors that must be considered integrally. In this sense, confining federal architecture to a single aesthetic language, no matter how noble it may seem, can restrict its ability to represent a society in constant transformation.
Classicism has, for centuries, provided a visual and constructive framework that has defined civic architecture throughout the Western world. Columns, symmetry, harmonious proportions, and noble materials have been used to convey stability and authority. Yet, in the context of the 21st century, other architectural approaches have proven equally capable of expressing civic values, institutional leadership, and social responsibility, without resorting to classical canons.
Contemporary public buildings demonstrate how it is possible to combine functionality, sustainability, accessibility, and symbolic expression in entirely new forms. Modern architecture has evolved toward a more flexible approach, one in which design responds to its surroundings, to the climate, to the needs of its users, and to technological progress. Government buildings such as Germany’s Reichstag, renovated by Norman Foster in 1999, or Oslo’s City Hall in Norway, designed by Arnstein Arneberg and Magnus Poulsson and inaugurated in 1950, do not need Corinthian columns to communicate leadership; they achieve it through accessibility, material honesty, and community integration. This approach not only enriches the urban landscape but also opens the way for a more adaptive and representative visual identity in contemporary society.
It is also worth re-examining the notion that the Greco-Roman style is the only, or the most appropriate, expression of civility and authority. Throughout history, diverse cultures have developed deeply civic and symbolic architectural languages. From the sobriety of Japanese architecture to the geometric clarity of the Middle East or the monumental forms of Mesoamerica, there exist multiple ways of conveying power, institutional respect, and cultural belonging.
Ultimately, the debate over what our public buildings should look like must not be reduced to a choice between the old and the new. Instead, it should open into a broader conversation about what architecture represents in democratic life. Rather than imposing an aesthetic, we should promote designs that respond to their time, to their citizens, and to the contemporary challenges of environment, place, and community participation.
Public architecture has the capacity to inspire, to generate a sense of belonging, and to project a vision of the future. Respecting tradition is valuable, but allowing innovation is indispensable. Beauty is not always found in what is familiar or monumental, but in what converses with its time, its people, and its challenges.
Perhaps the real question is not which style should be imposed, but what story we want our buildings to tell a hundred years from now. Will they be repetitions of someone else’s past glories, or testimonies to how we learned to adapt, to listen, and to build something truly our own? The answer, like the best architectural projects, remains, and should remain, in the process of design.
