College Campuses Are Designed at Human-Scale. Our Cities Can Be Too.

“It’s all downhill from here in terms of community,” an undergraduate senior recently lamented to me. It was not the first time I had heard such words. Over the years, various friends and family members have expressed the same sentiment. That college is the high point of community life for those who attend it seems to be an accepted fact. But why is this the case? And why do we assume that it cannot change?

There are many reasons why the college environment facilitates relationships and personal connections. Everyone there is at a similar age and stage in life. Classes and majors tend to group students by interests and personality traits. There is also a relative freedom from responsibility. One factor often overlooked, though, is the structure of colleges themselves. Because of their scale and walkability, college campuses meet human social needs in a way that is impossible for many of our nation’s towns and cities.

Since the 1950s, America’s urban planners have built our streets, public spaces and to some degree even our homes to accommodate automobiles, not human beings.

A central element of the suburban experiment is car-centric design. Since the 1950s, America’s urban planners have built our streets, public spaces and to some degree even our homes to accommodate automobiles, not human beings. This is not the result of ill-will or stupidity; cars are an important part of people’s lives, and they are not going away. Nevertheless, no amount of mechanized transportation can replace the innate desire for human-scale environments. Low levels of social capital in car-centric neighborhoods make this clear.

College campuses, in contrast, are designed for humans. At my own school, Baylor University, students who live in dormitories are able to work, eat and worship all within walking distance of their homes. Off-campus residents have it a little harder, but often even they require no more than a bicycle or scooter on a day-by-day basis. Apartment dwellers actually have an advantage in that they are free to host guests, and when one’s friends live only a block or two away, entertaining becomes a frequent occurrence. Finally, there are a plethora of amenities, from restaurants and gyms to libraries and green spaces, contained within campus borders.

All this is the norm among older universities, not the exception. The long and short of it is that colleges are built to facilitate face-to-face human interaction and an integrated lifestyle. In essence, they are 15-minute neighborhoods owned by a single entity. Meanwhile, most American cities are built to facilitate efficient commercial exchanges and a compartmentalized lifestyle. The latter might be more convenient, but the former make for greater happiness in the long run.

Fortunately, things do not have to be this way. The suburban experiment is not ordained by natural law. It is just that—an experiment—and it is subject to revision. Before the 20th century, Americans thought of their towns and cities in much the same way that we continue to think of our college campuses. They were built to be integrated communities, constructed to be navigable by foot, and most importantly made to serve human beings, with all their diverse social and physiological needs. By committing to the traditional development pattern, we can resurrect this vision of civic life.

Image Credit: Shunya Koide on Unsplash.

Of course, our urban centers are unlikely to become as idyllic as Oxford, Harvard or even Baylor. Large endowments and world-class architects are not to be found in the average city planner’s toolkit. However, by taking many small, practical steps to improve our surroundings, we can transform our neighborhoods into something more closely resembling a college campus. We can make sure that they are navigable by foot, that they are filled with more amenities and that those amenities are within walking distance of people’s homes. This will ultimately increase residents’ social capital and quality of life.

If Americans continue to look back at their college years with nothing more than resigned nostalgia, then my student friend’s lament will remain a truism. But if, instead, citizens turn to college campuses as a model for urban planning, they will find a great deal that can be learned and applied to their broader communities.

---

---

About the Author 

Collin Slowey is a student at Baylor University, where he studies Political Science and Great Texts. He has written on the intersection of faith and politics for the Center for Public Justice, the American Enterprise Institute, and Public Discourse. Collin aspires to continue writing as he begins a career in Washington, D.C.