Architecture has a peculiar relationship with time. Buildings that were once ridiculed become treasured landmarks. Designs considered too daring eventually become models for future development. Architects who challenge established conventions may face criticism during their careers, only to have their work celebrated decades later.
This raises an uncomfortable but important question: Who decides which buildings deserve to be remembered, and which architects deserve recognition?
In an era dominated by social media, instant opinions, and rapidly changing public attitudes, the answer has become increasingly complicated. Yet architecture has one advantage over most every other creative profession: its work remains physically present, often long after the arguments surrounding its creation have faded.
When Controversy Becomes a Landmark
Consider Frank Lloyd Wright’s Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum in New York City.
Today, the museum is recognized as one of the world’s most important examples of modern architecture. Its sweeping curves and unconventional spiral design have become inseparable from Manhattan’s architectural identity.
But when Wright proposed the building, many critics were far less enthusiastic. Its unusual appearance challenged traditional museum design, and artists questioned whether the curved walls would properly accommodate their work.
The museum opened in 1959 amid considerable debate. In 1990, New York City designated it a landmark, showing how dramatically architectural judgments can evolve.
What changed?
The building did not fundamentally change. Society’s understanding of its architectural significance did.
The Guggenheim illustrates a powerful lesson: public approval and lasting architectural value are not necessarily the same thing.
Architecture in the Age of Social Media
Imagine if some of history’s most controversial buildings had been introduced in today’s digital environment.
Before construction even began, architectural renderings might circulate across Instagram, Facebook, TikTok, and other platforms. Critics could organize opposition within hours. A provocative headline might overshadow years of design development, engineering, planning, and community engagement.
Social media has undeniably made architecture more accessible. Residents can join discussions that once happened almost exclusively among architects, developers, and government officials.
That accessibility is valuable. Buildings affect entire neighborhoods and communities deserve a voice in shaping their surroundings.
However, digital conversations often reward immediacy over thoughtful analysis.
A building can become controversial before its foundation is poured. An architect’s professional reputation can become the subject of public debate before anyone has experienced the design.
The danger is not criticism itself. Constructive criticism improves architecture.
The danger arises when public judgment becomes so immediate and permanent that it leaves little room for reconsideration, improvement, or the possibility that today’s unpopular idea might become tomorrow’s architectural achievement.
Can We Separate the Building from the Architect?
Society has long debated whether to evaluate artistic achievements independently of their creators.
In architecture, this question becomes particularly complicated.
A painting can be removed from a gallery. A book can disappear from circulation. A building, however, becomes part of thousands of people’s daily lives.
Residents occupy it. Businesses operate within it. Neighborhoods develop around it. Future generations inherit it.
Should personal or professional controversies surrounding an architect determine a building’s lasting value?
Certainly, professional accountability matters. Architects have responsibilities involving public safety, building codes, ethical conduct, and community welfare. These obligations cannot be dismissed simply because a design is visually compelling.
But accountability and architectural evaluation are not identical.
A building can be assessed through its design quality, functionality, structural performance, contribution to its neighborhood, and ability to adapt over time.
Recognizing architectural merit does not require overlooking mistakes. It requires understanding that a building’s history may be more complex than any one individual’s reputation.
Brooklyn and the Evolution of Urban Identity
Few places illustrate the changing perception of architecture more vividly than Brooklyn.
Neighborhoods such as Bedford-Stuyvesant, Williamsburg, and parts of Downtown Brooklyn have transformed dramatically over several decades.
Areas once overlooked by investors became centers of residential development, cultural activity, and architectural experimentation.
These changes were neither simple nor universally welcomed. New construction created opportunities for housing, investment, and neighborhood improvements, but it also raised legitimate concerns about affordability, displacement, and preservation.
For architects working in these environments, the challenge was never merely to design attractive buildings. It was to envision how underutilized properties and changing neighborhoods might function in the future.
Scarano Architect, PLLC, with four decades of experience in New York City architecture, has participated in Brooklyn’s evolving built environment through residential and adaptive reuse projects.
Working in changing urban neighborhoods requires balancing architectural ambition with practical realities, including zoning regulations, building codes, existing structures, neighborhood character, and the needs of property owners and residents.
The long-term success of urban redevelopment cannot be measured solely by the number of buildings constructed or the attention a project receives when completed.
It must also be evaluated by how those buildings function years later and whether they contribute positively to the surrounding community.
That is where architectural legacy begins.
Preservation is Also a Judgment About Legacy
In 2026, discussions about sustainable architecture, adaptive reuse, historic preservation, and the future of existing buildings are increasingly interconnected.
When a city decides to preserve an older structure rather than demolish it, that decision represents more than nostalgia.
It reflects a judgment about architectural value, environmental responsibility, cultural identity, and continued usefulness.
Yet preservation itself involves difficult choices.
Not every older building is historically significant. Not every modern structure deserves protection. And not every controversial project should eventually become a landmark.
Cities must continually evaluate which buildings merit investment, and which have reached the end of their practical lives.
Architects play a significant role in that process by helping owners understand the possibilities of building renovation, restoration, adaptive reuse, and sustainable redevelopment.
The objective should not be to preserve everything or replace everything.
The goal is to make informed decisions that respect both architectural history and contemporary needs.
The Difference Between Reputation and Legacy
Reputation is often determined by the present. Legacy is determined over time.
An architect’s reputation may rise or fall because of professional achievements, public controversies, changing tastes, or media attention. But architectural legacy develops through a much longer process.
Does the building continue to serve its purpose? Has it improved its surroundings? Can it accommodate changing needs? Does it contribute something meaningful to the city’s identity?
These questions can’t always be answered when a project first opens.
For firms such as Scarano Architect, PLLC, practicing architecture in New York City means understanding that every completed project becomes part of a continuing urban story.
Buildings outlive trends, headlines, and sometimes even the original purposes for which they were designed.
The most meaningful architectural achievements aren’t necessarily those that get the loudest applause when they’re completed.
They are the ones that keep mattering.
History Has the Final Word—But It Takes Its Time
Perhaps the greatest mistake we make when evaluating architecture is assuming that our present opinions will remain permanent.
History repeatedly demonstrates otherwise.
Buildings once dismissed as strange become beloved. Neighborhoods considered undesirable become destinations. Architectural ideas that initially seem impractical eventually influence an entire generation of designers.
None of this means that every controversial building will be vindicated or that every architect deserves rehabilitation. It means that architectural judgment should allow room for evidence, reflection, and time.
Architecture’s first responsibility is to serve people safely and responsibly. Its greater ambition is to create places that remain meaningful beyond the circumstances of their creation.
And that brings us to the question at the heart of architectural legacy:
When the controversy is forgotten, the headlines have disappeared, and the architect is no longer there to explain the vision, what will the building itself have to say?