I am sadly lacking in my knowledge of Behr and his work, but from the limited amount I HAVE read, the thing that sticks out to me is the notion that a naturalistic approach to golf course design is the only method he accepts.
He says "We have only to consider the fashions in bunkers that we have already passed through. Today we think we have accomplished something when we have spotted funny little plots of grass in their midst, or run ribbons of sand up their faces. All such pretentious and affected elaboration is attractive to the uncultivated eye. This craftsmanship comes to be credited with artistic significance. But the revelation that lies in the mists ahead is form that reveals true beauty. This we will achieve only when the features we must create are considered, not solely as ends in themselves, but as means of expressing authentic landscape form. It is structural integrity that we are seeking."
But is this true? Must every bunker be an expression of an authentic landscape form? And is the placement of a bunker determined by strategic implication, or for the enhancement of a naturalistic aesthetic? Perhaps Behr would counter that if the routing is done correctly, the "natural" bunker sites would have the necessary strategic impact, but he certainly seems to indicate that the needs of the game of golf would be secondary to the necessities of nature and a naturalistic aesthetic.
Behr says "May we not say, then, that in the degree the golfer is conscious of design, in that degree is the architecture faulty according to the highest tenets of the art?" Doesn't the placement of bunkers strictly near expected landing areas and surrounding greens force a golfer to be conscious of the design? How does one defend, say, the greens at Winged Foot West that are pushed up above the surrounding grade and are bunkered in a way that might not ever be found in nature? And yet to my eye they are very beautiful.
I liked John's comment that "great golf looks great" - basically throwing an addendum onto Behr's sayings to the effect that because we play golf and know what elements are to be found on a golf course, that excellence in creating those elements is something that a golfer may perceive as beautiful.
There is to my mind great value in maximizing the natural qualities of a site and creating where possible tie-ins with the surrounding landscape that succeed in hiding the hand of man and creating the illusion to which Behr felt all architects should aspire.
But I'm not dogmatic about it. I don't feel like an architect who doesn't live up to Behr's ideals is "Driven by a self-complacency in his own omnipotence," or that ..."the bark of his architecture, without the rudder of geological law, must drift from one fallacy of design to another."