Walk through Pioneer Square and you are walking past buildings made of brick, terracotta, and stone. Buildings that were built after the Great Fire of 1889, when the city decided that wood was not good enough and passed an ordinance requiring masonry construction in the commercial district. Those buildings are still standing 137 years later. They are still beautiful. They are still the most valuable real estate in the neighborhood.
Now walk through South Lake Union. Glass. Vinyl siding. Metal panel. Buildings that looked dated the day they opened and will need major facade repairs within 20 years. Nobody required these materials. Nobody prevented better ones. The standard simply disappeared, and for 30 years nobody noticed.
Seattle has a long history of building with quality materials. The Smith Tower (1914) used terracotta and marble. The Arctic Building (1917) is clad in terracotta walruses. The Rainier Club (1904) is brick and stone. King Street Station (1906) was modeled after the Campanile in Venice and built with brick and terra cotta that has lasted over a century.
These buildings were not expensive vanity projects. They were the standard. Builders used durable materials because the city expected it, the market demanded it, and the economics made sense over a 50- to 100-year time horizon.
Somewhere around the 1990s, the standard changed. Developers discovered that glass curtain walls and vinyl rain screen systems were cheaper to install. Permitting did not distinguish between a brick building and a glass box. The design review process focused on massing and setbacks, not materials. And so the city filled up with buildings made of the cheapest materials that code would allow.
Glass looks modern. It also performs terribly.
2x the electricity consumption of masonry buildings (heating and cooling)
45% of BC glass high-rises experienced water infiltration failures
20-30 years typical facade lifespan for glass curtain wall systems
100+ years typical facade lifespan for brick, stone, and terracotta
A glass curtain wall building uses roughly twice the energy of a comparable masonry building for heating and cooling. Glass is a terrible insulator. In a city that cares about carbon emissions, this should matter more than it does.
The durability problem is worse. A study of glass high-rises in British Columbia found that 45% experienced water infiltration through their curtain wall systems. Water infiltration leads to mold, structural damage, and expensive repairs. The average glass curtain wall system has a useful life of 20 to 30 years before it needs major repair or replacement. Brick lasts a century. Stone lasts longer.
The upfront cost savings of glass disappear entirely when you account for energy costs, maintenance, and replacement over the building's life. Glass is cheap to build and expensive to own.
Other cities have not forgotten their material standards.
Minneapolis mandates limestone and brick for buildings in its downtown heritage zones. The city's design guidelines explicitly require durable, regionally appropriate materials for any new construction that faces a public street.
Copenhagen mandates material quality through its municipal plan. New buildings must demonstrate material durability and aesthetic compatibility with their surroundings. The result is a city where new construction enhances rather than degrades the streetscape.
Charleston, South Carolina has maintained material standards for decades through its Board of Architectural Review. Every new building in the historic district must use approved materials. The result: Charleston consistently ranks as one of the most beautiful cities in America, and its property values reflect it.
Santa Fe, New Mexico has the closest analogy to what we are proposing. Santa Fe's Historic Districts Review Board enforces a codified material mandate: adobe and pueblo-style construction is required within the historic zones. It is the only city in America where a specific regional material is required by code, not just encouraged. Property values prove the market rewards it. Santa Fe's material identity is its economic engine.
Alys Beach, Florida is a planned community on the Panhandle where every building must be white masonry. The architectural code is strict and the results are extraordinary: Alys Beach homes sell at a premium over every neighboring town on 30A. A material mandate did not kill development. It created the most valuable real estate on the Gulf Coast.
These are not anti-development cities. They are cities that understood something simple: the quality of what you build determines the quality of where you live. Requiring good materials does not stop development. It makes development better.
Seattle already knows what good materials look like. The top 10 buildings by assessed value in the city use durable, high-quality materials. The market rewards quality. The code just does not require it.
Burnham Civic proposes a material standard for Seattle public buildings and publicly subsidized construction. Seven approved materials, chosen for durability, regional appropriateness, and proven performance in the Pacific Northwest climate:
The banned list is equally important:
Glass is not banned. But the standard would limit glass to no more than 60% of any public-facing facade, consistent with energy performance and durability goals. At least 40% of every street-facing elevation must use approved heritage materials.
Materials are half the equation. The other half is what the city looks like at street level: the railings, bollards, benches, pole bases, park gates, and public fixtures that define the feel of a neighborhood. Right now Seattle has no unified color system for any of it. Every fixture is a different shade of whatever the last contractor had left over.
The Burnham Civic 47 Shifts operation includes a Trim Team that applies a unified color palette to every public fixture in the city. The palette is called the Puget Standard, drawn from Puget Sound, the evergreens, and Seattle's natural landscape. Not trendy. Timeless.
| Deep Navy #1B3A4B |
Slate Blue #3D5A6E |
Sage Green #8B9D83 |
Gold #C9A227 |
Warm White #E8E0D0 |
| Color | Application |
| Deep Navy | Primary structural: railings, bollards, pole bases, gates |
| Slate Blue | Secondary accents: fixtures, utility covers, signage frames |
| Sage Green | Parks: benches, trash cans, irrigation covers, play equipment |
| Gold | Feature trim: signage lettering, ornamental details, accent bands |
| Warm White | Light poles, railings on waterfront, crosswalk bollards |
The Trim Team operates across all four command zones (North, Central, South, Waterfront) during the 47 Shifts execution window. Every bollard, railing, bench, pole base, and public fixture gets painted in the Puget Standard palette. The result is a city that looks like it was maintained on purpose, by people who gave a damn.
San Francisco passes a test that Seattle fails. When you descend into SFO at sunset, you can see the city's character from the air. The white and pastel Victorians. The terracotta downtown. A skyline that looks like it belongs somewhere specific. You know where you are before the wheels touch down.
Fly into SeaTac and look out the window. Glass. Grey panel. More glass. Nothing tells you this is Seattle and not Charlotte or Phoenix or any other city that let developers build whatever was cheapest. A material standard is not just about what buildings look like at street level. It is about whether a city has a visible identity at all. Seattle should be recognizable from 10,000 feet.
Charleston, South Carolina has maintained architectural standards for decades through its Board of Architectural Review. The BAR reviews every exterior alteration in the historic district. It has teeth. It has clear material guidelines. And critically, it has insulated itself from ideological capture. The board is composed of practitioners, not activists. Architects, builders, preservationists. People who know what lasts.
Burnham Civic is engaging the City of Charleston directly to study how the BAR is structured, how members are selected, and how the board has maintained its standards without being overrun by fads or political pressure. The goal is to bring that model to Seattle.
There is a supply chain problem hiding inside the material question. Seattle's terra cotta was manufactured locally until 1932. Denny-Renton Clay in Renton made the Arctic Building's walrus heads. Northern Clay Company in Auburn made the Frederick & Nelson building, the Joshua Green Building, and the Securities Building. Gladding McBean operated a plant in Auburn from 1925 to 1932. All three closed during the Depression, and no replacement has emerged in nearly a century.
Today there are exactly two architectural terra cotta manufacturers in the United States: Boston Valley Terra Cotta in Hamburg, New York, and Gladding McBean in Lincoln, California. Every piece of terra cotta used in the Pacific Northwest ships at least 800 miles. Custom glaze work takes 4 to 8 months. Large facade restorations take 18 to 24 months.
A material standard solves this. If Seattle requires heritage materials on street-facing elevations, the volume of terra cotta demand justifies reopening a PNW production facility. The clay deposits in the Renton-Auburn corridor that supported three manufacturers for decades are still there. The raw materials exist. The skilled labor can be trained. What has been missing is guaranteed demand. Policy creates demand. Demand justifies a kiln. A kiln drops cost and lead time from months to weeks. Seattle buildings get built with Seattle clay.
Vancouver, BC went all-in on glass tower development in the 1990s and 2000s. The result is a skyline of identical glass condos that are already failing. Water infiltration. Facade delamination. Towers that look dated after 15 years and need re-cladding after 25. Vancouver is now dealing with billions of dollars in building envelope failures across its downtown core.
Seattle is making the same mistake. The South Lake Union and Denny Triangle building boom produced the same glass-and-panel towers, built to the same short lifespan, with the same energy inefficiency. Burnham Civic is organizing to make sure Seattle residents understand what "Vancouverization" actually looks like a generation later: ugly, expensive, and falling apart.
Burnham Civic is drafting a model material standard for Seattle based on the approved palette above and building the case for its adoption through the city's design review process. We are compiling a public database of Seattle buildings by material type, age, and assessed value to demonstrate the long-term economic case for durable construction. The Puget Standard color system is already specified in the 47 Shifts operational order and ready for deployment.
We are engaging the City of Charleston to learn how their Board of Architectural Review operates and how it can be adapted for Seattle. We are organizing public awareness of the Vancouverization problem so residents understand the real cost of the glass towers going up around them. And we are pushing for a material standard that means something: a city you can recognize from the air.
Want to support this operation, contribute expertise, or join as a member? Tell us who you are and how you want to help.