Should architects boycott countries with oppressive leaders? Do buildings help glorify their ideology? The dilemma preoccupies the profession as we struggle to find answers.
As globalization rearranges power and wealth, an ever-increasing share of work comes from places that do not necessarily share our views—on governance, the rule of law, religion, civil rights, or freedom of expression.
Opportunities abound, as do ethical quandaries. In the 2000s, architects working in China faced criticism; in the following decade, scrutiny shifted to those with commissions in the Middle East and Russia. (Sanctions have since curtailed the latter.) Today, it is primarily architects working in Saudi Arabia who are under fire. An ancient culture is being modernized at the discretion of a young, tech-obsessed autocrat—a combination that both horrifies and captivates the Western establishment.
The belief that architects should act as flag bearers of democratic values in such contexts seems misguided—presumptuous, even—especially as those same values erode at home. The growing intimacy between technology and autocracy is hardly a Saudi monopoly. Remember the image: Trump and Musk in the Oval Office, outlining plans to streamline government. An unelected adviser operates with remarkable latitude, his disregard for dress code underscoring the point. The all-powerful tech billionaire taking an interest in governance, or the governing royal with an interest in tech—what’s the difference? Who is emulating whom? Is Saudi Arabia trailing the U.S., or the U.S. trailing Saudi Arabia?
Fifteen months into his second term, a democratically elected U.S. president is acting effectively unchecked. A once-stable democracy is sliding into authoritarian rule. The concentration of power, the weakening of institutions, the normalization of exceptional measures—these actions are all too familiar, as is the baffling lack of resistance. The self-proclaimed leader of the free world is imploding in real time, in plain sight, leaving the rest of the world aghast.
Even if no more than a detail in the grand scheme of things, architecture is caught in the crossfire. In a 2025 executive order titled Promoting Beautiful Federal Civic Architecture, filed on Inauguration Day, President Trump decreed that federal buildings should reflect “regional, traditional, and classical architectural heritage.” Forced into prescribed aesthetics, architecture becomes part of a personal mission to equate beauty with classicism and the civic with the traditional. Once more, architecture is the “Word in Stone.”
As public and private interests conflate, the role of the architect evolves accordingly: from accommodating a sense of the public good to serving private clients. Once again, we are at the mercy of our patrons’ whims— just as in past epochs. Starchitects collected like trophies in Saudi Arabia or architects as the willing executioners of Trump’s prescribed federal style—one must trade in their style, the other surrender it.
A quarter into this new century, the reality is gradually sinking in: There are no good or bad countries. The fall of the Berlin Wall would turn the world into a level playing field, economically and politically. Three decades later, we see a very different political reality, not the universal triumph of liberal democracy but a universal “will to power.” The true legacy of globalization is not global politics, or even global trade, but a world collectively beyond good and evil.
Buzzwords are all that is left of political debate. “Transparency,” “accountability,” and “efficient government” rank high on the agenda in both democracies and dictatorships. The same applies to the language that drives architectural production. “Sustainability,” “livability,” and “innovation” legitimize both progressive and regressive approaches. “World class” is the common aspiration of all projects. Just as there are no good or bad countries, there seem to be no good or bad clients.
The more diffuse the world, the greater the architect’s predicaments. No longer does choosing where, or for whom, we will or will not work serve as proof of morality. No affiliation—not even to the cleanest agenda— will make good people of us. Navigating the world à la carte in the hope of retaining a clean conscience is a hope in vain.
We have two choices: stop working or work wherever. Anything in between is a form of self-delusion. Despite its opportunistic ring, I believe the second choice— working wherever—is ultimately the more principled of the two. If working globally was once the default pursuit of worldwide economic opportunities, it is nothing short of a statement of solidarity in the context of globalization’s unraveling into regional fiefdoms.
Can architecture have agency in a world seemingly devoid of it? Can a profession deliver what politics will not? We cannot know. The question is whether we have a choice. Faced with a deep crisis of patronage, the only response to the question of “On whose terms?” is: On ours! If our morality cannot come from where, or for whom, we work, it must come from what we do—from how we work.
The king looking to display his grandeur, the president aiming to project his power, the corporate CEO wishing to express their vision, the crown prince hoping to secure his legacy, the ambitious mayor looking to put their city on the map, the billionaire patron of the arts eager to do whatever—ultimately their concerns are of no importance.
We need to move beyond the interests of our clients and bite the hand that feeds us when necessary. Let the love for our work— and for what it offers to people everywhere— be a source of critical independence. Faced with massive urgencies, architects find themselves at the forefront of a race against time. Powers that be should not be an alibi for bad work, nor an excuse not to engage. Work we must—perhaps now more than ever.
There are more architects, active in more countries, across more disciplines and more sections of society than at any previous point in history. Our trade represents a unique body of knowledge, and our utter dependence on power grants us intimate knowledge of power’s workings. We must use that knowledge.
Reinier de Graaf is a partner at the Office for Metropolitan Architecture (OMA) and author of the recently published Architecture Against Architecture (Verso Books, 2026).