I recently stumbled upon a video, courtesy of YouTube's algorithm, from a 1969 BBC documentary series called Civilisation, hosted by the British art historian Kenneth Clark. In the video, Clark stands outdoors in Paris, offering a simple yet eloquent reflection on the history of civilization. “What is civilization? I don’t know. I can’t define it in abstract terms—yet. But I think I can recognize it when I see it,” he says, gazing at the iconic Notre-Dame Cathedral. With its elegant flying buttresses, pointed arches, and spires reaching towards the heavens, this Gothic masterpiece tells a story.

Fast forward half a century, and that same medieval wonder, which took nearly 200 years to build, was ravaged by fire in 2019. How easily something can be destroyed, even if it took lifetimes to create. Our buildings require time and effort to provide not only shelter but also something greater—a sense of identity and continuity. Winston Churchill captured this sentiment during World War II when London’s finest architecture—from Gothic to Tudor, Victorian to Edwardian—was being reduced to rubble. As if civilization itself was teetering on the brink. Standing before the House of Commons in 1943, amidst the destruction, Churchill delivered a profound speech: “We shape our buildings, and afterwards our buildings shape us.” His words echoed a resolve to rebuild, to carry forward the spirit of creation and renewal.

I carry that torch with deep reverence for the great builders who dedicated their lives to constructing enduring works. Recently, I passed by San Francisco's Beaux-Arts City Hall, home to one of the largest domes in the world, even taller than the U.S. Capitol Dome in Washington, D.C. I am always struck by its symmetry, intricate ornamentation, and sheer grandeur. It pulls me in far more than the neighboring buildings—bland skyscrapers with flat facades and glazed glass, telling no real story. When we build, let us imbue our creations with a language that speaks to the human experience, rather than reducing them to mere utility or return on investment. For the true return on investment is for humanity—our future generations.