Executive Re-Order: Making Federal Architecture Beautiful Again

At last, a bold national stand against geometry with feelings. The President has personally rescued the Republic from the scourge of rectangles that don’t wear togas.

Under the new regime, no courthouse may rise without Corinthian guilt, no agency may function without a pediment of purity. Architects who once studied Le Corbusier must now swear fealty to Palladio—or be walled up in a tasteful mausoleum of their own making.

In the name of beauty, America shall henceforth Make Columns Great Again.

My dear, I’ve nothing against a Corinthian column. I’ve leaned on a few in my time—usually while waiting for the men to finish congratulating themselves on saving civilization again. But this Making Architecture Beautiful Again decree reads less like civic policy and more like a real estate brochure for Olympus-on-the-Potomac.

A nation does not become virtuous by stapling marble onto concrete. Rome tried that. So did Mussolini. Columns are not morals, and pediments are not principles. Beauty is not what you tell the people to admire—it’s what you build with them.

The Founders chose classical style because it symbolized balance and order; this order chooses it because it photographs well behind a flag. The difference, my dear, is sincerity.

If the goal is to inspire the public, perhaps we could start by designing buildings that are open, accessible, and staffed by people who still believe in public service. A good democracy, after all, should feel inviting—not intimidating.

Still, I will say this: if the Republic is going to crumble, at least it will do so under a very handsome cornice.

Executive Order Concerning Federal Aesthetics

(Issued retroactively, subject to revision, denial, or interior decorating trends.)

By the supreme powers vested in me by Zeus, Jefferson, and the Property Brothers, I hereby proclaim that all Federal architecture shall henceforth be tremendously beautiful, which is to say, approved by me personally, in person, from a flattering angle.

Section 1. Purpose.

Whereas the Founders built columns to look important, and whereas I, too, enjoy looking important, it is therefore decreed that ugly buildings make bad citizens. Since the 1960s, certain misguided architects—let’s call them The Concrete Cartel—have forced the American people to work in inverted ashtrays and Lego prisons. These are hereby declared unbeautiful and possibly foreign.

Section 2. Policy.

All new Federal buildings must now feature columns, domes, arches, or something that looks good on currency. The preferred style shall be Neo-Patriotic Classical Revival With Optional Gold Leaf Accents™. Brutalism, Deconstructivism, and any design that looks like a broken fax machine are strictly prohibited unless I say, “Actually, that’s kind of cool,” in which case they are mandatory.

Buildings shall reflect the dignity, enterprise, vigor, and stability of the American Government—ideally by including a tasteful gift shop selling those words on mugs.

Section 3. Implementation.

The General Services Administration (GSA) shall employ only architects who can (a) spell “column,” (b) quote Cicero, and (c) design a rotunda large enough to hold a press conference. The Chief Architect shall report directly to me, or to whoever’s holding the mirror.

When considering any “modern” designs, the GSA must prepare a full-color rendering, two flattery filters, and a written confession explaining why they hate America.

Section 4. Enforcement.

To ensure compliance, the newly formed Department of Taste and Optics will conduct surprise inspections with measuring tapes and mood boards. Buildings found insufficiently beautiful will be fined, repainted, or ceremonially wrapped in an American flag until morale improves.

Section 5. Public Input.

The “general public,” defined here as people who agree with me, may submit feedback through the official Bad Fibs™ Beautification Hotline, where all calls are recorded for the historical record and selective quotation.

Footnote:

It has come to the attention of this Administration that the ancient Greeks may have retroactively stolen the idea of columns from Bad Fibs™ Classical Holdings, LLC. Legal action will be pursued in both Earth courts and the afterlife to recover unpaid royalties and exclusive rights to democracy-themed architecture.

So ordered, ornamented, and possibly contradicted, this day or any other convenient retroactive date.

(Signed, illegibly but magnificently.)

Donald Trump

Executive Order Concerning Federal Aesthetics

(Issued retroactively, subject to revision, denial, or decorative reconsideration.)

By the supreme powers vested in me by Mars, Julius Caesar, and The Eternal Concrete Corporation, I hereby proclaim that all government monuments shall henceforth be heroic, which is to say, approved by me personally, under dramatic sunrise conditions.

Section 1. Purpose.

Whereas the Founders built columns to look majestic, and whereas I, too, enjoy looking majestic, it is therefore decreed that weakness makes citizens worse. Since the 1920s, certain misguided architects—let’s call them The Effeminate Draftsmen League—have forced the American people to toil and salute in box-shaped monstrosities. These are hereby declared unworthy and possibly un-Roman.

Section 2. Policy.

All new ministries, courthouses, and train stations must now feature arches, domes, and eagles or something that looks good on a coin. The preferred style shall be Neo-Imperial Fascio-Romantico™. Brutalism, Deconstructivism, and any design that looks like a broken toaster are strictly prohibited unless I say, “Actually, that’s kind of powerful,” in which case they are mandatory.

Buildings shall reflect the strength, destiny, and virility of the Italian State—ideally by including a tasteful bronze bust of me sold in the lobby.

Section 3. Implementation.

The Grand Services Apparatus shall employ only architects who can (a) spell entablature, (b) quote Vitruvius, and (c) design a balcony large enough to hold a speech of infinite duration. The Chief Architect of the People shall report directly to me, or to whoever’s reflection I’m admiring at the time.

When considering any “modern” designs, the Grand Services Apparatus must prepare a marble rendering, three flattering filters, and a written confession explaining why they disappoint Italy.

Section 4. Enforcement.

To ensure compliance, the newly formed Ministry of Beauty and Obedience will conduct surprise inspections using rulers and velvet ropes. Buildings found insufficiently magnificent will be stripped, resurfaced, or ceremonially draped in the national flag until discipline improves.

Section 5. Public Input.

The “general public,” defined here as adoring patriots in matching uniforms, may submit feedback through the official Bad Fibs™ Beautification Hotline, where all applause is recorded for posterity and educational cinema.

Footnote:
It has come to the attention of this Duce that the Greeks may have treacherously stolen the idea of columns from Bad Fibs™ Italia Romana, S.p.A. Legal action will be pursued in both The Hague and the afterlife to recover blueprints and exclusive rights to Empire-themed architecture.

So proclaimed, engraved, and possibly demolished, this day or any epoch convenient for destiny.

(Signed, grandiose but shiny.)

Il Duce

Executive Order on the Organic Expression of Federal Architecture

(Issued retroactively, subject to revision, denial, or decorative reconsideration.)

By the supreme powers vested in me by the Spirit of the Prairie, Thomas Jefferson, and Taliesin Development Group, I hereby proclaim that all government buildings shall henceforth be organic, which is to say, approved by me personally, under natural daylight filtered through hand-crafted skylights conditions.

Section 1. Purpose.

Whereas the Founders built columns to look important, and whereas I, too, enjoy looking important, it is therefore decreed that boxes make humans worse. Since the 1950s, certain misguided corporate modernists—let’s call them The Glass Box League—have forced the American people to shuffle paperwork in steel-and-glass filing cabinets pretending to be buildings. These are hereby declared soulless and possibly European.

Section 2. Policy.

All new courthouses, embassies, and post offices must now feature cantilevers, terraces, and water features or something that looks good on a postage stamp. The preferred style shall be Organic Democratic Expressionism™. Brutalism, Neo-Classical Revival, and any design that looks like a refrigerator are strictly prohibited unless I say, “Actually, that’s kind of harmonious,” in which case they are mandatory.

Buildings shall reflect the individuality, integrity, and horizontality of the American Republic—ideally by including a tasteful coffee-table monograph sold in the lobby.

Section 3. Implementation.

The General Services Administration shall employ only architects who can (a) spell prairie, (b) quote Lao Tzu, and (c) design a living room large enough to hold a press reception with good acoustics. The Chief Architect of the Republic shall report directly to me, or to whoever’s blueprint I’m admiring at the time.

When considering any “modern” designs, the General Services Administration must prepare a hand-drawn watercolor rendering, two flattering filters, and a written confession explaining why they misunderstand America.

Section 4. Enforcement.

To ensure compliance, the newly formed Department of Organic Unity will conduct surprise inspections using T-squares and mid-century armchairs. Buildings found insufficiently flowing will be rebuilt, re-angled, or ceremonially covered in copper roofing until harmony improves.

Section 5. Public Input.

The “general public,” defined here as future admirers with impeccable taste, may submit feedback through the official Bad Fibs™ Harmony Hotline, where all letters of praise are recorded for posterity and archival exhibition.

Footnote:
It has come to the attention of this Master Builder that ancient Mesopotamians may have secretly stolen the idea of arches from Bad Fibs™ Architectural Fellowship, Ltd. Legal action will be pursued in both Wisconsin and the afterlife to recover royalties and exclusive rights to organic-themed architecture.

So sketched, signed, and possibly redesigned, this day or any season of architectural enlightenment convenient for retroactive enforcement.

(Signed, visionary but underappreciated.)‘

Frank Lloyd Wright

Executive Order on the Liveliness of Federal Architecture

(Issued retroactively, subject to revision, denial, or community feedback during an evening block meeting.)

By the supreme powers vested in me by Saint Sidewalk, Alexander Hamilton, and The People’s Urban Cooperative, I hereby proclaim that all government buildings shall henceforth be alive, which is to say, approved by me personally, under streetlight and conversation conditions.

Section 1. Purpose.

Whereas the Founders built courthouses to look respectable, and whereas I, too, enjoy looking respectable, it is therefore decreed that monotony makes citizens worse. Since the 1950s, certain misguided planners—let’s call them The Sterility League—have forced the American people to work, wait, and wither in lifeless civic blocks. These are hereby declared boring and possibly anti-human.

Section 2. Policy.

All new libraries, post offices, and city halls must now feature stoops, windows, benches, and coffee nearby or something that looks good on a walking tour. The preferred style shall be Neighborhood Vernacular Revival™. Brutalism, Neo-Fascio Grandeur, and any design that looks like a parking garage are strictly prohibited unless I say, “Actually, that’s kind of charming,” in which case they are mandatory.

Buildings shall reflect the complexity, diversity, and serendipity of the American City—ideally by including a tasteful mural painted by local kids in the lobby.

Section 3. Implementation.

The General Services Administration shall employ only urban designers who can (a) spell community, (b) quote Aristotle or the corner grocer, and (c) design a plaza large enough to hold a farmers’ market and a protest simultaneously. The Chief Architect of Human Scale shall report directly to me, or to whoever’s window box I’m admiring at the time.

When considering any “modern” designs, the General Services Administration must prepare a hand-drawn sketch rendering, five neighborhood consultations, and a written confession explaining why they forgot about people again.

Section 4. Enforcement.

To ensure compliance, the newly formed Department of Liveliness and Light will conduct surprise inspections using clipboards and folding chairs. Buildings found insufficiently welcoming will be reprogrammed, repopulated, or ceremonially surrounded in flower boxes until vitality improves.

Section 5. Public Input.

The “general public,” defined here as neighbors who show up, may submit feedback through the official Bad Fibs™ Citizen Hotline, where all stories are recorded for urban lore and policy reconsideration.

Footnote:
It has come to the attention of this Community Steward that ancient Rome may have unintentionally stolen the idea of public squares from Bad Fibs™ People’s Improvement League, Inc. Legal action will be pursued in both City Hall and the farmer’s market to recover benches and exclusive rights to human-scale-themed architecture.

So drafted, posted, and possibly graffitied, this day or any Saturday morning with good weather convenient for retroactive enforcement.

(Signed, neighborly but unyielding.)

Jane Jacobs

Executive Order on the Improvement of Public Architecture and the Moral Sentiments of the Republic

(Issued retroactively, subject to correction, contradiction, or common sense.)

By the supreme powers vested in me by Providence, George Washington, and the United States Printing and Minting Corporation, I hereby proclaim that all federal buildings shall henceforth be virtuous, which is to say, approved by me personally, under good daylight and better judgment conditions.

Section 1. Purpose.

Whereas the Founders built capitols to look respectable, and whereas I, too, enjoy looking respectable, it is therefore decreed that vanity makes republics worse. Since the 1960s, certain misguided architects—let’s call them The Pretension League—have forced the American people to pay taxes in buildings shaped like migraines. These are hereby declared undignified and possibly French.

Section 2. Policy.

All new courthouses, post offices, and meeting halls must now feature columns, cupolas, and clear purpose or something that looks good on a postage stamp. The preferred style shall be Common Sense Neoclassical™. Brutalism, Deconstructivism, and any design that looks like a melted experiment are strictly prohibited unless I say, “Actually, that’s rather economical,” in which case they are mandatory.

Buildings shall reflect the prudence, thrift, and gravity of the United States of America—ideally by including a tasteful framed aphorism sold in the lobby.

Section 3. Implementation.

The General Services Administration shall employ only architects who can (a) spell symmetry, (b) quote Cicero, and (c) design a courtyard large enough to hold a town meeting and a lightning rod. The Chief Architect of Public Virtue shall report directly to me, or to whoever’s bifocals I’m adjusting at the time.

When considering any “modern” designs, the General Services Administration must prepare a penny-engraving rendering, one flattering filter, and a written confession explaining why they dislike posterity.

Section 4. Enforcement.

To ensure compliance, the newly formed Department of Frugality and Form will conduct surprise inspections using yardsticks and spectacles. Buildings found insufficiently sound will be revised, repaired, or ceremonially redeclared in the Federal Register until reason improves.

Section 5. Public Input.

The “general public,” defined here as taxpayers of good humor, may submit feedback through the official Bad Fibs™ Common Sense Hotline, where all suggestions are recorded for historical amusement and future plagiarism.

Footnote:
It has come to the attention of this Ambassador of Pragmatism that ancient Greece may have cheerfully stolen the idea of columns from Bad Fibs™ Enlightenment Holdings, Ltd. Legal action will be pursued in both Philadelphia and the afterlife to recover royalties and exclusive rights to virtue-themed architecture.

So drafted, printed, and possibly lampooned, this day or any Tuesday after breakfast convenient for retroactive enforcement.

(Signed, wise but irrepressibly amused.)

Benji Franklin