"Teaching should not be reduced to mere administration"

Looking back over the past decade, what stands out as the most significant change in the organization of academic programs?

The most significant shift was the transition from faculties to the school structure. It fundamentally changed how we work—and especially how decisions are made. Suddenly, we had to engage with disciplines that operate with very different teaching practices and decision-making cultures.

That was both enriching and challenging. You can’t simply impose standardization in a setting like that. Many of these structures have developed over decades, sometimes generations, and they deserve to be respected. I think we succeeded in defining shared goals without overriding those established cultures.

How has teaching evolved during this time, and what does that mean for the future?

Teaching has changed more than it might appear at first glance. We now rely much more on digital tools, which has clear advantages. At the same time, expectations have shifted—how students learn, and who takes responsibility for that learning, has changed as well.

The pandemic was a turning point. The rapid move to online and hybrid teaching fundamentally challenged traditional in-person formats, and that shift continues to shape behavior today. Students now come to campus only when they see real added value. That’s the challenge—not just pedagogically, but organizationally. Certain formats—project-based work, studios, hands-on training—depend on in-person collaboration and can’t simply be replaced digitally. They require physical spaces where ideas can be developed collectively.

The ED’s multi-campus structure, with locations in Garching, downtown Munich, Ottobrunn, and Weihenstephan, adds another layer of complexity. When campuses are geographically dispersed, collaboration becomes more difficult and connections between disciplines are harder to maintain. Ensuring reliable teaching formats and spaces for collaboration across all locations is therefore essential.

At the same time, we need to be more intentional about when in-person presence is necessary and when it isn’t. This affects everything from program design and scheduling to spatial planning and assessment formats.

Artificial intelligence adds yet another dimension. As AI takes over more tasks, we risk losing the very process through which learning happens—practice. The question is not whether we will use these technologies—we will—but how. It’s crucial to use them critically: not just to generate results, but to understand how those results are produced. Otherwise, we risk losing our ability to assess quality altogether.

Please complete the sentence: “Good teaching, to me, is…”

…when students walk away feeling they truly gained something. 
That requires a balance between approachability and professional distance. Instructors need to connect with students, but also maintain enough distance to challenge them and point out where further growth is possible.

Above all, good teaching requires reliability. It’s not something you can quickly recalibrate. I often compare it to a tanker: even if you cut the engine, it keeps moving—and changing direction takes time and energy. That’s why short-term interventions rarely work. What’s needed is careful planning, shared understanding, and the freedom to shape teaching. That freedom is essential—but it’s not a license for poor teaching. And teaching should not be reduced to mere administration.

During your time as Vice Dean, you introduced and implemented numerous structural changes. Which were most important to you?

Internationalization was key—not just in terms of language, but as a broader cultural opening, particularly in the ED’s master’s programs. 
Equally important was the expansion of context studies, which give students the opportunity to engage with social, political, and ethical questions both within and beyond their disciplines. We also worked toward more flexible program structures, including steps toward a major-minor model. That’s a long-term effort, but it will ultimately allow for more individualized academic paths.

What role do these contextual competencies play for students in engineering and design?

They are essential. Contextual competence means understanding your field not in isolation, but as part of a broader system. What impact does my work have? Who benefits—and who doesn’t? How are decisions made? 

Especially in areas like sustainability, technical solutions alone are not enough. You also need to understand how these solutions are framed and accepted in society. That requires looking beyond your own discipline—something we aim to foster through context studies.

What have you learned about students over the years?

How diverse they are—and how much they change over the course of their studies. The pandemic made that especially clear. It highlighted just how important the academic experience is. It was remarkable to see the level of commitment students showed when working toward a shared goal. We collaborated closely with them at the time to preserve studio culture, and it worked better than we might have expected.

What advice would you give students today?

Don’t let the rules overwhelm you. University is a unique phase of life with a great deal of freedom—use it. Experiment, pursue your own projects. I wasn’t a particularly rule-bound student myself. I carved out space for my own interests, and in retrospect, that made all the difference.

In the end, it’s not about doing everything perfectly. It’s about recognizing problems—and taking initiative to address them.

You are trained as an architect. Did that background shape your work as Vice Dean?

Less as an architect, more as an urban planner. Urban planning involves a high degree of uncertainty. You can’t fully control outcomes—you have to create the conditions that allow good outcomes to emerge. A former mentor of mine, Prof. Kees Christiaanse, once said: good urban planning is designed so that even the worst architect can work within it—and the city will still turn out well. That perspective influenced me greatly. It’s not just about defining end goals, but about designing the mechanisms that allow those goals to take shape over time—and to be accepted.

After ten years in this role, is it difficult to let go?

Very much so. The biggest challenge will be stepping back and resisting the urge to weigh in on every detail. But it’s time for the next generation to take over—and that’s as it should be.

At the same time, I’m looking forward to returning more fully to my own teaching this fall. I’ll need to rethink many things—probably much like when I first started out.

You’re now heading into a research sabbatical. What are you most looking forward to?

Stepping out of the constant pace. The past few years have been intense, with multiple parallel processes and a rhythm that had little to do with conventional working hours.

I’m looking forward to slowing down—to having more time again for research, for teaching, and for life beyond the university. And perhaps for things that have taken a back seat—playing the piano, for instance, or simply spending time outdoors.

Finally, what would you like to say to your successor, Prof. Fernaß Daoud?

Fernaß Daoud doesn’t need advice from me. But perhaps this: not everything is entirely rational. You need a sense—a kind of compass—for what is possible within a system, along with the flexibility to act accordingly. And one thing is certain: he’ll have an excellent team by his side.