In September 1983, BAM published a cover that was both playful and prophetic.
A parade of boxy, grinning computers marches out the Van Wickle Gates—books in hand, screens beaming—as if they’d just earned diplomas in English lit and semiotics. It was charming. It was weird. But behind the cartoon was a radical idea—and a series of serious questions. What if everyone at Brown—students, professors, staff—had their own personal computer? What would the future of higher ed look like? Would machines elevate or erase the human element of learning?
Remember: this was 1983. The Cold War was still on. Reagan was in office. The floppy disk was still cutting-edge. Most people still thought of computers as mysterious mainframes or the clunky beige boxes slowly creeping into corporate offices. Apple’s new computer “Lisa”—with its friendly interface and sky-high price tag—felt practically sci-fi.
Brown was ready to bet $70 million that computing belonged in the liberal arts—that it could revolutionize teaching and, depending on who you asked, elevate or erase the sacred book. Faculty from every field weighed in. Some were thrilled. Others, terrified. “We’re the one-eyed in the land of the blind,” said CS Chair Andries van Dam. “And we’re about to change everything.”
And change it did. Today, laptops outnumber students. Artists sketch on iPads. CS and quant bros stare into three-monitor setups like they’re decoding the Matrix. VR headsets make casual cameos on College Hill. Professors teach via portals that require two-factor authentication and the occasional call to IT. First-years show up to orientation with MacBooks, AirPods, Smart Watches, and an emotionally codependent relationship with Google Calendar.
And this is just the beginning. As we flip to the AI chapter, machines aren’t just helping us learn—they’re starting to write, teach, and think alongside us.
In ’83, computers were knocking at the Gates. And now, they are on the tenure track.
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Brown’s first coed dorm, 1969: More family-style dinners, less sex
PHOTO: BROWN ARCHIVES / BROWN ALUMNI MONTHLY, VOL. 70 NO. 3, DEC. 1969
In fall 1969, 57 Pembroke students moved into the top floors of Diman House in Wriston Quad, joining 61 Brown men to form the University’s first coeducational dormitory. What started as a fraternity’s pitch to offer women associate memberships quickly snowballed into a full-on housing experiment (greenlit by skeptical deans, of course).
Brown was joining a national trend: turning dorm life into something that looked more like real life. The pilot was hailed as “quality interaction between the sexes,” but residents described it more simply: “normal.” Sunday mornings meant swapping New York Timessections and half-hearted attempts at the crossword. Pumpkin carving, pancake breakfasts, and unicycle lessons replaced mixers and parietal rules.
Sure, there were concerns—about privacy, propriety, and “undue sexual activity” (undefined, but definitely quoted). But the vibe was more chill. Most students reported an increase in friendships, not hookups—and a general sense that the opposite sex was no longer some elusive Saturday night mystery. Most residents ended up dating people outsidethe dorm. Turns out the great coed experiment was less sexual revolution and more family-style dinner.
Fast-forward to today and Brown’s dorms are almost entirely coed. But it all started here, with the big surprise that living together could be completely unremarkable.
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