29.03.2026

Sensor-Based School Building Design

Building design

Interior view of the reading area on the stairs of the Nansha Library in Guangzhou, photographed by Scarbor Siu.

Sensors, data, school construction—an explosive combination that could revolutionize the education system. Anyone who still believes today that smart sensor technology in the classroom is just a nice gimmick for tech enthusiasts has simply missed the boat when it comes to the future of school construction. Sensor-based school architecture is no longer a gimmick, but a strategic necessity if we finally want to design and operate schools the way they deserve to be: intelligent, sustainable, and future-proof. But how far have we really come—and what is the German-speaking world willing to try?

Sensor-based school architecture combines building technology, pedagogy, and digital infrastructure.
Germany, Austria, and Switzerland have so far lagged behind international pioneers, but are slowly catching up.
Sensor technology provides real-time data on indoor climate, CO₂, lighting, occupancy, and user behavior—the foundation for adaptive buildings.
Digital twins and AI are fundamentally transforming the planning, operation, and maintenance of schools.
Sustainability benefits: energy efficiency, well-being, and maintenance are measurably improved.
Architects and planners must significantly expand their technical expertise.
There are heated debates surrounding data protection, participation, standardization, and costs.
Visionary approaches show that the school of the future is a learning building—open, resilient, and user-centered.
Global momentum is coming from Scandinavia, the Netherlands, and the Far East—the German-speaking world must decide whether it will remain a bystander.

Sensor Technology in School Construction: Where Do Germany, Austria, and Switzerland Really Stand?

The results are sobering. While Denmark, Sweden, and the Netherlands have long been constructing smart school buildings that continuously collect data on air quality, temperature, lighting, acoustics, and attendance, the German-speaking world remains cautious. In Germany, school construction continues to be dominated by the trifecta of tight budgets, administratively driven standards, and endless coordination loops. Austria and Switzerland are experimenting cautiously but mostly rely on isolated solutions: Individual model schools in Zurich, Vienna, or Graz demonstrate what is possible—but this is not yet widespread.

The problem begins right at the planning stage. Anyone planning a new school building in Germany today is typically inundated with space allocation plans, fire safety regulations, and passive house certifications. Sensors? They’re often dismissed as “nice to have.” Yet even simple sensors for CO₂, particulate matter, or temperature could help significantly improve learning conditions and reduce energy consumption. Instead, however, fears of long-term technology costs, data misuse, and maintenance burdens dominate.

In Switzerland, there are at least a few shining examples. The Freilager school building in Zurich, for instance, uses sensor technology to control ventilation, lighting, and shading. But even here, much of the effort remains piecemeal because federal structures, differing jurisdictions, and a lack of standardization prevent a large-scale rollout. Austria is making selective use of smart technologies—but the pace is anything but breathtaking.

Another obstacle: the willingness to equip planning and operations teams with digital expertise leaves room for improvement. In most municipalities, there are simply no digital strategies for schools. Anyone who wants to install sensors has to navigate a jungle of grant applications, data protection reviews, and regulatory gray areas. The result: plenty of potential—but little implementation.

But things are changing. The climate crisis, the debate over energy prices, and the pandemic have shown just how urgently schools need to become more resilient, flexible, and healthy. More and more municipalities are realizing that building today means planning for the next 30 years. And the school of the future is no longer a static structure, but an adaptive organism. Sensor technology is not a luxury here, but a foundation.

From Black Box to Learning Building: How Sensor Technology Is Revolutionizing School Construction

For decades, the traditional school was a black box. The building structure, hallways, classrooms—everything built according to a standard template, everything rigid, everything designed for operations, never for learning. Sensor technology turns this paradigm on its head: Suddenly, the building itself becomes a learning system that constantly adapts. CO₂ sensors sound the alarm when air quality is poor. Temperature sensors regulate the heating system based on actual needs. Occupancy sensors detect which rooms are actually in use—and which are not. The result: less energy waste, greater comfort, and better learning conditions.

But that’s just the beginning. Modern systems combine sensor technology with intelligent control systems that go beyond simple automation. They analyze patterns, predict maintenance needs, and detect malfunctions early on. The result: The custodian becomes a Facility Manager 4.0, and operations become a data-driven process. Artificial intelligence can help generate optimization suggestions based on the collected data—for example, regarding the use of renewable energy, flexible room utilization, or cleaning.

Planning also benefits significantly. By creating a digital twin of the school building, planners can run through various scenarios: How does a different class schedule affect the indoor climate? What happens if 100 more students enroll? How does a new ventilation strategy change energy consumption? This data-driven planning is the key to truly sustainable schools—and it’s turning the job descriptions of planners and architects upside down.

It’s important to note that sensor technology must not be an end in itself. The challenge lies not simply in collecting as much data as possible, but in generating relevant information that creates real added value. This can only be achieved when architects, technicians, educators, and operators work closely together. Those who integrate sensor technology into the planning process from the outset lay the foundation for a future-proof building that improves not only operations but also the learning experience itself.

The debate over how much sensor technology makes sense is necessary and healthy. But one thing is also clear: Schools built today without digital infrastructure will already be outdated tomorrow. The question is no longer whether sensor technology is coming, but how it can be used intelligently.

Digitalization, AI, and Sustainable School Architecture: A New Alliance?

Digitalization in school construction is not a sure thing. Anyone who believes that a few sensors and a fancy app are enough to make a school smart has failed to grasp the full scope of the issue. Only the interplay of sensor technology, data platforms, digital twins, and AI-powered analytics tools creates the conditions for true innovation. And that changes not only the architecture, but also operations and pedagogy.

Digital twins make it possible to map the entire building in real time—including energy flows, indoor climate, and occupancy. AI can help recognize patterns, identify inefficiencies, and optimize usage. This transforms static buildings into adaptive systems that can respond to changes—such as weather, user behavior, or the outbreak of a pandemic.

Sustainability benefits enormously from this. Sensors make energy flows transparent, reveal weak points, and enable precise control. This not only reduces consumption but also extends the service life of the technology. At the same time, the effectiveness of measures can be assessed in real time—for example, whether a new shading system truly improves learning conditions or whether a ventilation system is operating optimally.

But the path to a smart, sustainable school is rocky. Many municipalities struggle with integrating systems, a lack of standards, and fears of ongoing technology costs. The industry urgently needs a transfer of know-how and new skills: architects must have a basic understanding of IT, technicians must understand educational fundamentals, and operators must develop data literacy. Traditional school construction is becoming an interdisciplinary task that forces planners out of their comfort zone.

Visionary projects abroad demonstrate what is possible. In Scandinavia, schools have long been conceived as prototypes for “Living Buildings”—structures that are constantly learning and evolving. German-speaking countries often admire this from a safe distance. But those who don’t want to be left behind must act now—and boldly invest in digital infrastructure.

Security, Data Protection, and Costs: The Major Stumbling Blocks

Sensor technology and digitization in school construction are not a sure thing. With every additional data point, the risk of misuse, manipulation, and loss of control grows. The discussion about data protection is not a side issue, but the central arena where trust and acceptance are either gained or lost. Anyone who allows children and teenagers to learn in a digital building must provide a comprehensive explanation of what data is collected, stored, and processed—and for what purpose.

The General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) is both a blessing and a curse in this context. It protects personal rights, but often turns the implementation of smart systems into a bureaucratic gauntlet. Many municipalities, fearing legal risks, forgo innovative solutions entirely—and in doing so, squander enormous potential. The result: instead of a genuine debate, there are bans; instead of innovation, there is stagnation.

The issue of cost is also frequently cited as a killer argument against sensor technology. Sure, implementing smart systems isn’t cheap. But anyone who does the math honestly will quickly realize: operating costs go down, maintenance becomes more predictable, and energy consumption is visibly reduced. The real investment lies not in the technology itself, but in building expertise, integration, and maintenance. This calls for new business models and partnerships that take a holistic approach to planning, operation, and maintenance.

Another problem: a lack of standards hinders interoperability. Sensors, platforms, interfaces—often everything remains proprietary, and every project is a one-off. The industry urgently needs open standards so that schools do not become digital islands but rather part of a connected educational landscape. This is a challenge for policymakers, industry, and planners alike.

And finally: Who actually controls the data? Who decides which analyses are conducted? Who bears responsibility for malfunctions or hacker attacks? The debate is on—and it will permanently change the professional roles of architects, planners, and operators. After all, the school of the future isn’t just built—it’s also programmed, maintained, and defended.

Global Trends and the Role of Architects: Now or Never

An international comparison shows that those who invest boldly reap the benefits. Scandinavian countries, the Netherlands, and Singapore have demonstrated how sensor-based school architecture works—and what societal benefits it brings. There, schools are no longer built for operations but for learning. They are laboratories for educational innovation, sustainability, and digital participation.

The German-speaking world stands at a crossroads. Either we remain spectators and let global developments leave us behind—or we seize the opportunity to set our own standards. This requires courage, expertise, and a new culture of planning and construction. Architects must engage with IT, data analysis, and participatory processes; operators must become innovation managers; and municipalities must become drivers of digitalization.

The debate is ongoing. There is valid criticism of commercialization, surveillance, and technological dependence. But there are also visionary approaches that demonstrate: The school of the future is a learning building that adapts to the needs of its users, conserves resources, and enables innovation. Those who fail to act now will be left behind by reality. Those who are bold will actively shape the future of school construction.

Architects are no longer merely designers of spaces, but curators of data and processes. They must reconcile technical, social, and pedagogical requirements and find new ways of collaborating. The discipline is facing a paradigm shift—those who miss it will be planning out of touch with reality.

From a global perspective, sensor-based school architecture is a key factor in the future viability of educational infrastructures. It combines sustainability, digitalization, and social innovation—and is thus far more than just a technical trend. It is about nothing less than transforming the school into a learning organism that becomes part of urban society.

Conclusion: Rethink schools—or keep building them the same way as always?

Sensor-based school architecture is not just hype, but a necessity. It turns the professional roles of architects and planners upside down and demands new skills, new alliances, and a new mindset. The German-speaking world must decide: Do we want to continue building schools the way we did 30 years ago—or do we design the educational infrastructure of the future now? Sensor technology, digitalization, and sustainability are no longer a contradiction; they belong together. Those who hesitate will not only miss out on technical innovations but also risk our society’s most important asset: our children’s ability to learn. The school of the future isn’t just built—it’s connected, adaptive, and open to change. It’s time we finally take it seriously.

22.01.2025

Project

Co-creation instead of participation

Building design

Management

Participation versus co-creation: Would the Superkilen work better today if citizens had been integrated into the process from the outset?

Superkilen in Copenhagen has failed. The citizens as a whole use the square more as a place to pass through than to linger, even though they were integrated into the planning process through participation – according to a long-term analysis by students at the Danish Institute for Study Abroad. During the design and development process, the Superkilen planners asked citizens to suggest artifacts from their countries of origin for the new city square. Holistic planning with co-creation and prototypes would have been one way of increasing acceptance of the square.

Co-creation

Co-creation originally comes from the business world, which began to involve consumers in the product development process in the 1990s. The Leading Cities research group defines co-creation in urban development as “the active flow of ideas and information between five sectors: government, business, academia, non-profit organizations and citizens that promotes participation, engagement and development.”

What is the difference to citizen participation? Public participation is a means for planners to learn more about the attitudes and opinions of local residents and to develop new ideas. They increase acceptance for a project. Co-creation, on the other hand, involves the most important sectors of society on an equal footing from the outset.

It therefore offers citizens and citizens’ organizations a better opportunity to be truly heard and gain more influence in planning processes. Co-creation views users as proactive citizens rather than consumers, and focuses on long-term cultural change and the whole community rather than individual user groups. Where citizen participation seeks to integrate citizens’ opinions into an already prescribed program, co-creation helps future users to shape and enforce their own decisions. Co-creation is an endless process in the best sense of the word, with regular exchanges taking place between those involved.

Co-creation has a number of advantages. The public provides input and feels equal, citizens feel they are taken seriously. They become much more aware of their living environment. In return, the government has to be much more responsive and responsive to citizens and other sectors. In return, however, it saves costs because only what is actually needed and used is implemented and the risk of a new project is correspondingly low.

Prototypes

In large design projects such as Superkilen, it is extremely important to test ideas in advance before they become a permanent part of the landscape or city. It is a long way from the abstract idea, analysis and public participation to the concrete installation. The prototype should be seen as a learning tool that can be optimized and changed in the next step. Prototypes are a democratic way of dealing with public space, they also reduce the risk of a failed project and unnecessary expenditure.

The holistic approach

Combining co-creation with the prototyping approach makes it easier to explore the potential of a space. This holistic approach leads to more sustainable and vibrant places in the city. However, the Superkilen started with an assumption that co-creation and prototyping would have led to a different design. Users would accept the space better and make it more their own. Perhaps a more critical examination of the initial idea would also have been achieved.

You can read Bianca Hermannsen’s current analysis of the square here.
Robert Schäfer visited Superkilen in 2012, directly after the opening. You can read his review of the new city square in Copenhagen here.
Watch the video here to see how BIG travels with local residents to their countries of origin to select artifacts for Superkilen.

19.12.2024

Design

Heavyweight with a message

Building design

The Globo Uovo sculpture is an impressive work by stone sculptor Marc Reist and is currently on display at the Dürrenmatt Center in Neuchâtel, Switzerland. The artist made the 6.5-ton “global egg” out of white marble. In an interview with STEIN, the Swiss artist explains what message he wants to convey with his sculpture, why he only uses white marble and […]

The Globo Uovo sculpture is an impressive work bystone sculptorMarc Reist and is currently on display at the Dürrenmatt Center in Neuchâtel, Switzerland. The artist made the 6.5-ton “global egg” out of white marble. In an interview with STEIN, the Swiss artist explains the message hewants to conveywith hissculpture, why he only works with white stone and why he launched an appeal to collect eggshells before the opening.

Marc Reist: It’s a logical consequence of my artistic work and how I reflect on my surroundings by observing them. I notice how certain rules and mechanisms are similar on both a small and large scale. I never consciously came up with the topic, it just developed. I think it started in 2005.

The Globo Uovo symbolizes the world and the origin of life. Was there a specific reason for this idea?

Yes, that was in 2011. I was invited by a newspaper in Switzerland to write a few columns. I started to write about resources and food in these texts and about what bothers me: the way we deal with food, the way we deal with our environment. And during this phase, I designed the globe and then the egg. The eggs actually always resonate with me. Regularly for my wife – I only mention this in passing – for her birthday, for Mother’s Day, there are always drawings of chicken and egg. I either start with the chicken or the egg, but the egg always resonates.

Do the many openings in the sculpture also have a meaning?

The openings were created by the lines of longitude and latitude. And I found them very special as soon as I was able to work in the egg. There is a feeling of protection when you are in your human egg and you can see the outside world through these openings. At the same time, it could also be a prison. These feelings arose in me when I was working in the egg.

From a professional point of view – I trained as a stone sculptor and also took the master craftsman’s examination – I know almost all the materials. But even so, I used to only work with black stone for my shapes. And now, for years, I’ve only been working in white. For the small sculptures I make, I use a bright white marble. There is no other solution for me and for my forms. I have never used any materials with textures. They are beautiful, but not for my shapes.

But the marble for the egg has a certain texture. Was a block of 55 tons in pure white not available?

For the Globo Uovo, the stone is a little more marbled. Because this size in pure white – that would have been almost impossible and would have meant such a long wait. And the egg in this size in pure white would almost be a little too beautiful(laughs), almost baroque. That’s impossible. Visually too, it’s almost not rock anymore.

So the egg also looks much more “alive”.

Exactly, that’s what I mean. This methamorphosis of the rock, this mountain, that has to resonate.

How did the change from black to white rock come about?

That’s an interesting question. I have to go back to that. I wanted to make a really big sculpture in the 1990s. I chose a large block in Carrara without knowing what I was going to do with it. I wanted to be inspired by the material, by the block. I normally proceed differently. I have a drawing or a model and then work on the stone. But now I wanted to be influenced by the block. At the time, it was 20 tons in size. And that put an enormous strain on me(laughs). I suddenly realized that the further north the block was transported from Italy, the greater the strain in my head became. I was very blocked! And suddenly I found the solution. I then worked out a light cloth from this block. That was probably my solution, to release this heaviness in me in relation to the block. And since then I’ve only worked with white stone.

Are there purely visual reasons why you like to work with marble a lot, or is it also because of its properties?

Both, actually. My sculptures are also a matter of light. Not only with the large egg, but also with the other sculptures. The way the light passes through the opening and the edges is what makes it so good. And the properties for working are a pleasant side effect. It is easy to work with because it is so even, so homogeneous. But I mainly use marble because light and shadow are important for my sculptures.

You also want to send out a message with your art objects.

Yes, absolutely. I think that’s the greatest task of an artist. That his work is seen and heard, as the case may be. Communication is important. It makes no sense at all if I make an egg like this just to have another beautiful sculpture in a park somewhere. That wouldn’t be enough. It needs a message.

What message is that?

We have great difficulties with resources in general. This is most sensitive when it comes to food. And I really want to draw attention to the fact that people need to deal with the issue of food and resources. That a small train of thought changes.

Your sculpture is currently on display at the Dürrenmatt Center in Neuchâtel, Switzerland. Before the exhibition began, you launched an appeal to collect eggshells. What was the reason?

We had planned a performance with a dancer for the vernissage. I needed a lot of eggshells for that. Over the course of a year, people collected around 35,000 eggshells, washed them and brought them to me. Something you would normally throw away. For the exhibition opening, we laid them out on the floor of the museum and cleared paths, like a labyrinth. The dancer danced her way through it. But every now and then she made missteps on the eggshells, causing them to crack. And at the same time, with every misstep, a part of her body died. Because the shells represent our resources and if they are destroyed, the person dies too. And so she danced through the labyrinth and gradually died a dramatic death after three or four missteps.

Find out more about the project and the natural stone work in the February issue of STEIN. You can also find more information at www.stein-magazin.de/skulptur-des-monats-globo-uovo.