Oh, BTW, embracing the present proposal as "truer"-a-la-Pepsico to a certain supposed Modernist spirit is really taking a "Wyatt The Destroyer" approach to our existing postwar-modern fabric (cf. James Wyatt's legendarily derided Georgian-era "restorations" of English cathedrals).
Incidentally, a couple of things have so far been absent in this thread, (a) the architect of the remodelling, and (b) the architect, or really, *any* significant data re the existing building. I mean, it's a fascinating early modern office block; but whether it's because of being weighed down by the cloud of years of Scientology or not, very little is known about it--it's the ultimate underrated sleeper of its sort. Casually speaking, I'd imagine it being an early 50s Page & Steele-y thing--and yet there's something very primevally "Modern Movement" about it; like, were it of concrete or some such smooth finish rather than homely yellow brick, it could pass for something from 20s/30s Europe. Even those existing windows, in their energy-inefficient, air-conditioner-peppered glory, have an odd transparent delicacy that mysteriously evokes the glassy strip-windowed Bauhaus futurism of an earlier time.
It's definitely a building meriting extended reflection and a bit of digging as to its architectural provenance--all by way of, well, a preemptive gesture, and an intelligent, thoughtful sensible one, prior to acting on anything drastic, much less the advocacy of the same.
Though a bit of a disclosure here: even I'd agree there's a longstanding acquired-taste grottiness about the place. Even some 30 plus years ago (and I don't know whether Scientology had fully set in yet), I found the building oddly scary and unappetizing. But that was 30 plus years ago, and I'd probably have said the same about the original Yonge subway stations with their Vitrolite adulterated by Gloucester-car greasy stink. Taste and tolerance and "scope" pendulums swing...