
I have a few comments on The Third Teacher, especially regarding Idea 9 "Let the sunshine in. And the gray skies too...."
Of course you remember the famous Louis Kahn quote, about schools beginning "with a man under a tree, who did not know he was a teacher, discussing his realization with a few, who did not know they were students."
But you might not recall that he went on to say (more than once, I'm sure – he often repeated himself – but, apparently, in his 1973 Pratt Institute lecture, “Between Silence and Light”):
"You get an order from the school board that says, 'We have a great idea. We should not put windows in the school, because the children need wall space for their paintings, and also windows can distract from the teacher.' Now, what teacher deserves that much attention? I'd like to know. Because after all, the bird outside, the person scurrying for shelter in the rain, the leaves falling from the tree, the clouds passing by, the sun penetrating: these are all great things. They are lessons in themselves. Windows are essential to the school. You are made from light, and therefore you must live with the sense that light is important. Such a direction from the school board telling you what life is all about must be resisted. Without light there is no architecture."

The Third Teacher is a beautiful book, and it appears to be a finished product, in that we have an attractive black and "Revolutionary red" cover (not unlike Vignelli's Oppositions covers, for example), wonderful graphic design of both text and of visual images – some of which (like the butterflies and goldfish) are just there to pull the reader into the text – and an apparently stable framework of concepts, chronicles, reports, case studies, guides, interviews and workshops interspersed with the "79 Ideas".
So, I began to think about the presentation of all of the stuff in between Ideas 1 and 79 (I didn't read every word; I read large chunks of it and skimmed almost all of the rest) and I realized that, on the first 10 pages of The Third Teacher – with text-as-frame/text-as-infill (or subtext-within-text) – most of the "infill" consisted of quotations, or else statements of some statistical facts (essentially, a quotation as well). Then I noticed the two-page spreads with a central graphic (butterflies, goldfish, a wad of paper, a "school-crossing" sign) were also filled with quotations or statements of statistical fact. Then I realized the workshop pages had quotations from the kids. Then I noticed that most of the context/concept/guide/precedent "folios" were quotations from other sources. Of course, the interviews consist of quotations, in a less fragmentary form.

So maybe it's not really a finished product, but, rather, a work-in-progress.
Therefore, one of the things that struck me about the book is its kinship with The Arcades Project, Walter Benjamin's incomplete, posthumously-published work-in-progress that was never formally organized into a finished book; the 30 or 40 or so "folios" found together were, however, organized by theme/topic (by Benjamin). As is, it is a collection of fragments – 90% quotes and 10% Benjamin's commentary, more or less – a work-in progress, a research project for a book. But who knows what the finished book would have been like?
So, in many ways, it is a Benjaminian research project, a work-in-progress. Which is fine, because the subject matter is continually evolving and, education is, by its very nature, a work-in-progress – an ongoing research project.
And having Bruce Mau involved is especially clever because, as I well remember from the Massive Change exhibition at the MCA, he and his colleagues are very good at making the infinite seem finite (and vice-versa).
So, it's a very clever book and, ultimately, in concert with the website, The Third Teacher is, I think, a very useful and important book, much of which, like Christopher Alexander's A Pattern Language (which is referenced), or Jane Jacobs' Death and Life of Great American Cities, is really just common sense – stuff that should be obvious to any K-12 architect, teacher, student or principal. But the brilliance of the book is in its stating the obvious.
And so, I return to Idea 9, "Let the sunshine in." How did we ever get to the point where the school boards (and the parents and voters and taxpayers that comprise them) thought it made sense to have schools without windows? The fact that that idea took hold, however – all over the U.S., in suburbs as well as the inner city, regardless of region or climate – shows the urgency of stating the obvious and trying to restore common sense to the conversation.
Which is probably as revolutionary an idea as the "Vignelli/revolution red" color scheme might indicate.