Federal planning doesn’t often make headlines, but when it does, it usually means something big is happening. Right now, Washington, D.C.’s planning future is being steered in a new—and controversial—direction. President Trump’s deputies have taken control of the National Capital Planning Commission (NCPC), the powerful body that oversees federal projects and shapes the urban form of the nation’s capital. For most people outside the planning bubble, the NCPC isn’t exactly a household name. But in the world of planning and design, it’s one of the most important commissions in the country. Its decisions influence how federal land is used, how public spaces look and feel, and how large-scale redevelopment projects unfold in D.C. That means everything from stadiums to monuments to the very skyline of Washington sits in its orbit. The concern? Experience. The new appointees are Trump loyalists with little to no background in planning, architecture, or urban design. They may hold strong political ties, but they don’t carry the expertise typically expected to weigh in on projects of such scale and consequence. Critics argue this could leave D.C.’s built environment vulnerable to short-term political whims instead of long-term, thoughtful design. Take the example of RFK Stadium. Its redevelopment has been on the table for years, with countless debates over what to do with the land. Should it become housing? A cultural hub? A mixed-use district that balances history with modern needs? Decisions like these require a blend of technical insight and community input—two ingredients that risk getting sidelined when political loyalty outweighs planning know-how. What’s happening in D.C. also sends a signal to planners across the country. When commissions like the NCPC lose credibility, it undermines the very principle of planning as a professional, evidence-based discipline. We risk turning our cities into arenas where expertise is dismissed, and decisions are made on ideology alone. That doesn’t just affect the shape of Washington—it reverberates into how local commissions elsewhere feel pressure to bend toward politics. Of course, politics has always played a role in planning. Zoning, land use, infrastructure—it’s all political at its core. But what makes planning effective is the balance between political priorities and technical grounding. When that balance tips too far, the results can be damaging for generations. For planners, this moment is also a reminder of why our work matters. Cities aren’t just backdrops; they are lived spaces where design decisions ripple into social equity, mobility, housing affordability, and environmental resilience. Federal design commissions might feel distant, but their precedents matter. What happens in D.C. often sets the tone for what follows elsewhere. As the NCPC enters this new era, it’s worth keeping watch. Will the commission push projects that reflect professional integrity and public good? Or will it veer into the kind of political showmanship that leaves D.C.’s future weaker than its past? For those who care about cities—and about the role of planning in shaping them—the stakes are high. If there’s a lesson here for planners and advocates everywhere, it’s this: expertise doesn’t defend itself. It has to be valued, demanded, and protected. Otherwise, even the most carefully planned city can drift into decisions that prioritize politics over people.