Like the proverbial shoemaker's child who goes barefoot, many architecture students learn the best practices of their discipline in some of the worst buildings on their campuses. The problems with the newest architecture-school buildings, says the writer, are both similar and solvable. In a new book, teams of architecture faculty members and students evaluated the function, technology, and aesthetics of 16 recently built schools of architecture, surveying passers-by about the buildings' exteriors and asking users about their interiors. Of the three architecture schools whose exteriors received the highest ratings, two occupied historic buildings, and all three respected the context of the surrounding campus. The three schools that onlookers most disliked are new buildings that purposefully stand apart from the surrounding structures and express the relatively idiosyncratic aesthetics of their architects. These differences represent a division among architects not just about the purpose of education, but about the discipline as a whole. Professors, staff members, and students inside these buildings are not more sympathetic to them: the surveys revealed extensive dissatisfaction among the users in many schools, much of it having to do with environmental factors: poor acoustics, bad lighting, uneven heating or cooling, and inadequate ventilation. A somewhat surprising result of the post-occupancy evaluations involved the sometimes-confusing circulation patterns inside architecture schools. Of all the things that architects should do well, organizing a building in a clear and coherent way is one of them. And yet the students and staff members in several schools reported initial difficulties finding their way around, and continuing inconveniences related to noisy hallways, dark stairways, or inadequate accessibility. Ironically, the confusing or inconvenient circulation seems to stem, in some of these buildings, from an apparent fascination on the part of their architects with the movement of people. What can appear, from one perspective, to make a space dynamic or a building lively can, from another point of view, lead to uncertain directions or unnecessary distances. The degree to which architecture schools in the survey were able to connect the interior to the exterior landscape also varies and the post-occupancy evaluations of some schools uncovered a recurring criticism of often underfinanced and sometimes poorly designed landscapes. The nature of architectural education, like professional education in general, is changing, and the writer concludes that schools of the future may be quite different from those recently built. The prevalence of powerful portable computers, wireless access to information, and digital display technology has freed students from having to work in noisy or distracting environments, which may make the traditional studio space irrelevant, or at least force it to become more accommodating. At the same time, the growing interest among many students in community-oriented projects and in interdisciplinary connections suggests that the architecture school of the future may become less a building that is an inwardly focused island on the campus and more of a gathering point for new types of relationships across communities.