The Architecture of Human (Dis)Connection
How might you design spaces that keep people disconnected from each other?
At Lower Merion High School, we had three minutes between classes. One hundred and eighty seconds to close a notebook, hit a locker, use the bathroom, and get to the other side of the building before the late bell rang. It still makes me anxious to think about that and it was a LONG time ago.
I used to assume this was just bad logistics, but thinking about it now, I am pretty sure I was wrong. It was a design choice, and it clearly revealed a priority.
But then started thinking about this question as a bit of a thought experiment:
What if you wanted to design a school that kept students disconnected from each other?1 What design choices would you make?2
I mean, for one thing, you’d make passing periods so short there’s no time for conversation. But also…
You’d arrange desks so students face the teacher, not one another.
You’d reward individual achievement and treat collaboration as a method rather than a purpose.
You’d separate students by age, subject, and level.
You’d assess learning as a solo performance.
You’d treat friendship as something that happens around school rather than through it.
Hmmmmmm.
The Big Idea
Here’s a paradox: schools are among the most densely populated places in our society. Hundreds, sometimes thousands, of people gather under one roof every single day.
And yet many students leave feeling unseen, unknown, and alone.
How is that possible? And what can we do?
