Reclaiming the Skyline: The Return of Classical Architecture

Contributed by Richard Y. Rodgers

The reinstatement of an executive order promoting classical architecture for federal buildings is a clarion call for the restoration of beauty to the public square. This directive, originally introduced by President Donald Trump during his first term¹ and now reinstated,² reaffirms a truth that, though often ignored, resonates deeply within the human soul: beauty is not a luxury. Classical architecture, embodying timeless principles and marked by its harmonious proportions, is an all too necessary reminder that public spaces should elevate inhabitants.

The preference for “regional, traditional, and classical” architecture in civic buildings is not arbitrary. Instead, it reflects the Greco-Roman world, the Christendom that overturned it, and, for better or worse, the Enlightenment which formed the foundation of Western civilization. Their artistic and architectural legacies are among our greatest cultural inheritances. Rome, the eternal city, and Greece before her, gave us the language of public architecture: the arch, the dome, the column, the temple. Christianity imbued the classical forms with new spiritual depth—elevating what was once imperial grandeur into sacred grandeur. Christendom’s greatest achievements in architecture—from the Hagia Sophia to St. Peter’s Basilica—stand as testaments to both the advancement made to build them and the culture of the civilizations that nourished them. Even the Enlightenment, despite its philosophical errors, maintained that beauty was integral to civic life, and it preserved an appreciation for order.

Inspired by these traditions, the Founding Fathers chose classical styles for buildings such as the U.S. Capitol, the Supreme Court, and the White House. The Washington Monument evokes the obelisks of Rome, just as the Jefferson Memorial mirrors the Pantheon and Palladio’s Villa La Rotonda. The Lincoln Memorial, with its Doric columns and temple-like form, enshrines the principles of law, courage, and sacrifice that defined the great statesmen. Beyond merely housing government functions or celebrating public figures, these buildings were designed to embody the permanent virtues of the republic itself.

Yet, the 20th century witnessed a sharp departure from these ideals. Modernism’s rise, characterized by a disdain for ornamentation and an obsession with raw functionality, birthed an architectural landscape littered with soulless high-rises and forbidding concrete blocks. This shift was the architectural manifestation of a broader cultural movement: a revolt against tradition, an embrace of the transitory over the eternal, of ugliness over beauty, of chaos over order. This architecture breeds disorder, alienation, and indifference. Enter Boston City Hall. More fortress than civic institution—so reviled it tops lists of the world’s ugliest buildings—it embodies architectural nihilism: hostile, alienating, and indifferent to the city it inhabits. Buildings like these do not inspire; they oppress. They are scars on once beautiful cities. The destruction of classical architecture is not progress but regression—a descent from the aspiration of beauty to the celebration of the banal, the austere, and the ugly.

The executive order promoting classical architecture is a response to this crisis. By prioritizing classical styles, it seeks to reintroduce beauty into the public realm and challenge the tyranny of modernist ideology. And make no mistake: it is a tyranny, enforced by an architectural elite that has for decades dismissed tradition as "outdated" while subjecting the public to an unrelenting assault of lifeless, disorienting structures.

Critics of the executive order, such as the American Institute of Architects, argue that it imposes limitations on architectural diversity.³ This critique misses the point: the question is not how many different styles we can accommodate but whether the architecture we build is good, noble, and beautiful. If the choice is between a dozen styles of mediocrity or one tradition of enduring excellence, the latter is the obvious answer. Even if it weren’t, the fact remains that beauty is an objective good, and it should be fostered against the protests of those who are over-credentialed but underdeveloped enough to care more about "variety" than virtue. As Sir Roger Scruton observed in Why Beauty Matters, beauty is essential to human flourishing.⁴ Public buildings, as spaces shared by all, have a unique responsibility to embody this ideal. A courthouse adorned with Corinthian columns or a post office framed by a pediment and frieze does more than serve its immediate function—it ennobles. It communicates high order, justice, and reverence for the community it serves.

Classical architecture offers an antidote to this malaise. Beauty, Scruton reminds us, is a “call to renounce our narcissism and look with reverence on the world.”⁵ Classical buildings invite us to do just that. They remind us that we are part of something greater than ourselves—something worth preserving and cherishing. Scruton continues, “Beauty is not just revelatory, it is transformative. It addresses our highest integrative understanding. Art speaks to us in the fullness of our incarnate condition. It inspires us to transform ourselves and our world. It awakens and enlarges our humanity to possibilities.”⁶ Certainly, our present humanity can stand an awakening to its higher possibilities.

Classical architecture fosters a sense of continuity with the past. In an era that prioritizes progress at the expense of tradition, convenience at the expense of craftsmanship, and spectacle at the expense of meaning, these buildings serve as tangible links to the wisdom and achievements of previous generations. They remind us that we are heirs to a rich cultural heritage and that we have a duty to pass it on—intact and enhanced—to future generations. In a world increasingly dominated by the transient and the utilitarian, the return to classical principles is a reassuring reminder of what endures. We are not simply preserving a style—we are preserving a vision of humanity.

1. “Executive Order on Promoting Beautiful Federal Civic Architecture.” National Archives and Records Administration, December 21, 2020.

2. “Promoting Beautiful Federal Civic Architecture.” The White House, January 21, 2025.

3. “AIA Responds to White House Memo on GSA Guiding Principles for Federal Projects.” The American Institute of Architects, January 21, 2025.

4. Scruton, Sir Roger. “Why Beauty Matters.” The Imaginative Conservative, September 24, 2020.

5. Scruton, Sir Roger. Beauty: A very short introduction. Oxford University Press, 2009.

6. Scruton, Sir Roger. “Beauty and Desecration.” City Journal, March 23, 2023.