The term “vanity project” means a moment.
It comes to the surface whenever US President Donald Trump launches another plan to give Washington, DC an architectural – and expensive – facelift.
Whether it’s a $100 million Triumphal Arch, a billion-dollar White House Ballroom or a $13 million redesign of the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool, each proposal revives questions: What counts as a political vanity project, and why do leaders pursue them?
Distinctive features of vanity projects
First, not every extensive or costly effort – across eras or countries – counts as a futile project.
Esra Akkan, professor of architecture at Cornell University, says that while architecture often serves multiple and sometimes competing practical, social, governmental, and symbolic needs – making the definition of the concept of a “vanity project” inherently blurred – it is ultimately purpose that separates public purpose from political vanity.
“While it is hard to respect any vanity project, there should be more opposition to a political vanity project, because it would involve a situation when a leader would use his position and tax money to build a monument instead of public service that caters to his ego,” Akkan told DW.
For him, the clearest warning sign is when scale becomes the issue rather than outcome, “when grandeur and vastness become the main driving force of design rather than an answer to a need.”
To put it another way, one needs to look at who ultimately benefits – and who is left out of that vision. State-funded projects that provide citizens with equitable social housing, public squares and parks or schools and universities are “very different programs from the oversized and gated government palaces that are built for a ruler’s family and friends and that extract the country’s resources for a limited ruling elite.”
cementation authority
Historically, rulers of various eras have used monumental architecture to demonstrate authority, legitimacy, or national identity.
Akkan notes how 20th-century totalitarian regimes in Germany, Italy, and the former Soviet Union openly adopted monumental forms to signal power at home and abroad.
For example, Adolf Hitler’s Chancellery in Berlin, the Zeppelinfeld rally grounds in Nuremberg, and the unbuilt People’s Hall – a dome built to seat 180,000 people – were intended to be massively overwhelmed.
Hitler’s architect, Albert Speer, recalled in his 1969 memoir “Inside the Third Reich”: “He wanted the greatest of everything to glorify his works and enhance his pride.” Thus, Speer drew on the ancient, terraced Pergamon Altar – excavated in what is now modern-day Turkey and reconstructed in Berlin – and scaled it up for the vast Zeppelin arena used during Nazi rallies.
In 17th-century France, Louis XIV expanded a former hunting lodge at Versailles to make it one of the largest palace complexes in Europe. Its layout placed the king literally at the center of the palace, and life at court revolved around him – from daily rituals to political decisions. Versailles made its central role impossible to ignore.
Some modern leaders have also drawn on ancient precedents such as the pyramids to justify ambitious projects. But Akkan cautions against flattening history.
“Putting modern state-funded projects and ancient monuments like the pyramids in the same category is a false equivalence,” she says, adding that the pyramids belonged to completely different belief systems and political-economic structures.
Rather he argues that modern leaders often use the architecture of earlier eras to legitimize projects motivated by personal or political ambition.
Not limited to monuments or memorials
Today, architecture has become a tool through which leaders shape political identity and legacy – not just through individual monuments, but sometimes through entire urban visions.
Sarah Moser, a professor of geography at McGill University and a leading scholar of new capitals, says, “Many leaders are driven by ego and a desire to leave a tangible legacy on as large a scale as possible. They are not satisfied with leaving behind monuments or architecture – building an entire city is the ultimate display of power and the physical expression of ideology.”
City building is “always inherently political”, says Moser, because cities are highly visible public projects. She points out that states outside the West have used new cities to brand themselves or signal a new political era.
She points to Masdar City in Abu Dhabi, which was promoted as the world’s first zero-carbon and zero-waste city, which attracted global attention and helped rebrand the UAE capital as “ultra-modern and technologically sophisticated”, even after some of the original plans were scaled back.
In Myanmar, the main planned capital, Naypyidaw, uses Buddhist depictions on government buildings. Moser says this visual language presents the state as rooted in a singular religious identity, noting that such design choices can signal inclusion for some groups while indirectly excluding others, including the Muslim Rohingya minority.
Moser says leaders have long used entire cities to express a political vision or personal legacy. Peter the Great founded St. Petersburg in 1703 to serve as Russia’s “window to Europe”; Brasília signified a modern, post-colonial identity; And Astana reflects Nursultan Nazarbayev’s vision for Kazakhstan through a mix of monumental scale, ethnic symbolism and futuristic architecture.
question of due diligence
Meanwhile, Akkan warns that democracies with more centralized systems of power are increasingly adopting the strategy.
Pointing to the erosion of due process, she says, “Recently, countries habitually associated with democracy have been switching from authoritarian tactics to architectural tactics.”
High-budget, highly visible projects have been pursued without open competition, widespread participation, or institutional consensus. “Another worrying fact is that many of these projects violate laws and violate the zoning codes and regulations of their own legal systems,” says Akkan, citing Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s government palace, Ak Saray, as an example.
Trump’s own plans for Washington, DC have also faced opposition from preservationists, planners, and cultural institutions. For Moser, any change in Washington DC will inevitably be scrutinized, given how symbolically important it is to American national identity.
“The intent behind the ‘face lift’ and the money spent on it is a kind of signal to the rest of the country about values and modes of governance,” she says. Trump’s proposals, she argues, “are a power play aimed at testing his allies, showing off his political muscle, and leaving a lasting legacy.”
Edited by: Elizabeth Grenier