Order is often mistaken for care. This world questions how discipline becomes spatial. Institutions built to contain are often presented as spaces of reform. Their forms are rational, repeated, symmetrical, and durable, as if morality could be laid in rows like brick. What appears stable is assumed to be just. What repeats is assumed to work. Architecture becomes the argument. Red brick signals control without speaking it. Its weight implies safety, its texture suggests history, its order implies logic. But the structure does not protect. It contains. And that containment is framed as correction. Design here plays the role of silent enforcer. Interiors are stripped of privacy and softened only by routine. Objects are issued, not chosen. Movement is timed. Clothing is made to erase difference. Each element is minimal, but none are neutral. Together they enforce compliance while posing as infrastructure. The space does not rehabilitate. It organizes. Behavior is shaped by walls, not by dialogue. The visual language of stability conceals the mechanics of punishment. Repetition is mistaken for reliability. Material permanence is confused with institutional legitimacy. This world critiques how architectural logic is used to naturalize control. It exposes the belief that reform can be constructed, that confinement can teach character, that symmetry can stand in for empathy. To hold someone is not to help them. But architecture makes that difference difficult to see. - Based on Angela Y Davis Are Prisons Obsolete