Month: June 2025

Walk into any college dining hall today, and you’ll feel it before you taste it: a quiet revolution is underway. It’s not just about gluten-free labels or oat milk options anymore. This is generational. Deep. Uncompromising. And if you’re in the food business, especially agri-food, foodservice, or campus dining, it’s time to tune in.

Because Gen Z won’t tolerate being ‘othered’ by your menu.

They don’t just read ingredient lists. They read intent. They look for signals that the food experience was designed with them, not for them. And if they don’t see themselves reflected in the sourcing, labeling, flavor profiles, or the values behind the offerings, they disengage. Worse, they walk.

I’ve spent the better part of my career studying the relationship between dining and human connection on campus. Through our work at Porter Khouw Consulting, and inspired by thinkers like Sid Mehta, who pushes the boundaries of sustainability, food equity, and agri-food innovation, we’ve come to understand that dining is more than just a service. It’s SOCIAL ARCHITECTURE™.

And if your menu feels like a barrier instead of a bridge? Gen Z will call it out, opt out, and tell their friends to do the same.

What Does It Mean to Be ‘Othered’ by a Menu?

“Othering” occurs when individuals feel excluded, ignored, or relegated to the status of an afterthought. On a college campus, this can show up in subtle but powerful ways:

• A lack of halal, kosher, vegan, or allergy-safe options
• “Plant-based” sections that feel like a compromise instead of a celebration
• Menus that reflect one dominant culture or flavor profile
• Confusing signage, hidden ingredient info, or no labeling at all
• A dining room environment that signals, “this isn’t for you”

To someone from Gen Z, arguably the most diverse, identity-conscious generation in history, these are not oversights. They are rejections. They say: “We didn’t think about you.”

And Gen Z? They’ll believe you.

Why Gen Z Is Different and Demanding

This generation grew up on identity affirmation. They expect personalization. They demand inclusion. But more than that, they are exquisitely attuned to authenticity.

They’ll walk into your dining venue, take one look at the signage, and know if you’re faking it.

And it’s not just about identity markers like race, religion, gender, or dietary needs. It’s about values. They ask:

• Was this food sourced ethically?
• Does this vendor support fair labor practices?
• Is this packaging compostable, or is it just greenwashed plastic?
• Did anyone even ask students what they wanted before putting this concept here?

Food, to them, is personal. Its identity. It’s activism. It’s a community. And when you exclude them, even unintentionally, it’s personal too.

The Campus Dining Experience Is Ground Zero

Here’s why this matters so much in higher ed:

Dining is the only required daily gathering space for most students.

Think about that. Gen Z may skip class. They may ghost clubs. But they have to eat. And when they do, that moment at the table becomes a catalyst for trust, for friendships, and for feeling seen on a campus that might otherwise feel overwhelming.

At Porter Khouw Consulting, we refer to this as SOCIAL ARCHITECTURE™: designing dining programs that serve as emotional infrastructure for student success. When dining is done right, students build friendships, feel a sense of safety, and establish social anchors. This increases retention, mental health, and even GPA.

However, if dining is done incorrectly, if students feel excluded or invisible in the food experience, they detach. And institutions feel the ripple effects in enrollment, housing occupancy, and student outcomes.

How the Agri-Food Industry Can Respond

This isn’t just a foodservice issue. It’s a call to arms for everyone in the agri-food supply chain, from producers and processors to marketers and distributors. Here’s how you step up:

1. Design with Students, Not Just for Them

Co-create menus and programs with Gen Z voices at the table. They’ll tell you what matters. They want to collaborate, not just consume.

2. Center Transparency Over Optics

Label everything clearly. Tell the story of where food comes from, how it was grown, and why it matters. If you’re not walking the talk, Gen Z will find out, and they’ll let others know.

3. Celebrate Cultural Plurality, Don’t Tokenize It

Offer global flavors not just for “International Week” but as core menu staples. Acknowledge food as a cultural identity, not just a trend.

4. Make Inclusion the Standard, Not the Special Request

Don’t bury vegan or halal dishes under “alternatives.” Bring them forward as essential. Normalize variety.

5. Invest in Sustainability Beyond Marketing

Move beyond compost bins and “local” stickers. Work with campus partners on real impact: food waste recovery, regenerative sourcing, reusable packaging. Let students see it, feel it, own it.

The Risk of Doing Nothing

Here’s the bottom line: If your dining program, even your farm, food brand, or product, makes students feel like outsiders, they won’t fight to be included. They’ll find someone else who already sees them.

And in today’s competitive higher ed and foodservice environment, that’s not just a missed meal. That’s a lost student. A lost advocate. A lost future customer.

The Future Is a Table Everyone Feels Welcome At

It’s time we stop designing menus like they’re checklists and start designing them like they’re invitations.

An invitation to belong.

To be nourished not just physically, but emotionally.

To see your identity reflected in a sauce, a spice, a story.

To feel that your presence at the table was anticipated and celebrated.

Final Thought: Don’t Be a Byproduct. Be a Bridge.

Whether you’re a food producer, a chef, a university administrator, or a distributor, your role isn’t passive. You’re not just part of the system. You’re part of the solution.

So, ask yourself:

What in our menu says: “We see you, Gen Z”?

If you don’t know the answer yet, start by listening. Then act boldly. The future of food on campus, and the future of your business, depends on it.

 

Written by David Porter (with the insight of Sid Mehta)

David Porter is CEO of Porter Khouw Consulting and creator of SOCIAL ARCHITECTURE™. Sid Mehta is a sustainability strategist and thought leader in the global agri-food ecosystem. Together, they challenge the food industry to design with empathy, purpose, and the power to connect.

 

“Your MIT degree is learning how to learn, and how to socialize and making contacts, it’s not what you actually learned.”
— Peter Diamandis

When Peter Diamandis made this comment, he wasn’t being flippant, he was telling the truth. As someone who has spent decades working with colleges and universities across North America, I can confirm that the most significant return on investment (ROI) from higher education is not just the content of the curriculum, it’s the human capital built along the way. MIT’s “hidden curriculum,” as Peter implies, isn’t differential equations or thermodynamics, it’s learning how to think, how to adapt, how to connect, and how to create value through networks of relationships.

Diamandis’s insight hits at the heart of something we’ve known for years but have only recently begun to value in strategic higher education planning properly: the social eco-systems of a campus can be more valuable than a lecture hall. Next-generation residential and retail dining crafted through the lens of SOCIAL ARCHITECTURE™, aren’t just sidebars; they are where the magic of human connections happens.  Where friendships and teams are established that can transform a student’s life over the next 50 years. 

Beyond the Transcript: Why Learning How to Learn is the Real Credential

A diploma may represent mastery of a subject, but mastery has a short half-life in a world where industries are constantly disrupted. What stays with you? The ability to adapt to figure things out quickly, and to solve problems creatively, regardless of the problem set.

At MIT, or any rigorous institution, the pace and scale of what’s expected force students to develop meta-skills:

• How to deconstruct complex challenges.
• How to learn something completely new, fast.
• How to collaborate under pressure.
• How to lead a team without being the smartest person in the room.

Those who thrive at MIT learn how to iterate, prototype, revise, and persist. These are survival skills for the innovation economy. And this is where the environment matters. MIT is not a solitary experience; it is a pressure cooker of talent, energy, and intellect. If you don’t connect, you don’t succeed.

Social Capital: The Currency That Doesn’t Expire

The second part of Diamandis’ quote is equally important: “how to socialize and making contacts.” Social capital is the most underrated and misunderstood asset of the college experience. It is the human moat around your ideas, your career, and your life.

What makes MIT, or any transformative institution, so powerful isn’t just its research labs, endowment, or Nobel laureates. It’s the density of talent and the collisions of people. In that rare environment, you build a network and collection of relationships that will power startups, career pivots, collaborations, and friendships for the next 50 years.

You are in an incredibly talent-dense environment, and it’s rare. If you take advantage of it while you’ve got it, you’ll make lifelong friendships, establish lifelong connections, and build many things together, including businesses, movements, and research breakthroughs. But if you waste this window by keeping your head down, focusing only on your plan, and not looking up to engage with the brilliant people around you, you will have let one of the most valuable opportunities of your life quietly slip away. You won’t get that opportunity later, at least not at this scale, and not this naturally.

Transforming Dining as a Catalyst for Human Connection

At Porter Khouw Consulting, we’ve built our entire philosophy SOCIAL ARCHITECTURE™ around the belief that our purpose is to transform dining as a catalyst for human connection. It is the missing ingredient in higher education strategies for student success. Every freshman who doesn’t start finding their tribe within the first 45 days is statistically more likely to leave. It’s that simple.

The dining program is one of the most underutilized and potentially the most potent tools colleges and universities have to build and nurture these connections. Unlike orientation, sporting events, student programming, SGA or RA meetings, meals are served (and ordered for delivery) multiple times a day, everyday, 24/7 throughout the academic year. They are a natural, habitual and necessary part of life. When we reimagine dining and create even more value with our next-generation residential and retail campus wide dining programs, through the lens of SOCIAL ARCHITECTURE™, we’re not just to feeding their bodies. Still, more importantly, we are feeding their souls through human connection. We can change the entire trajectory of the student experience and their lives. It’s the reason why we’ve pioneered SOCIAL ARCHITECTURE™, next-generation residential and retail dining programs and novel strategies like “The Freshman 15”, not for pounds gained, but for 15 intentional new friendship connections initiated in the first 45 days.

MIT may not have explicitly marketed this aspect, but, as Peter notes, it’s baked into the experience. You don’t get through the MIT gauntlet alone, and the sooner institutions realize this and design next-generation residential and retail dining environments to foster richer levels of student engagement, the stronger their retention, enrollment, and alumni networks will become.

A Lesson for Institutions: Build the Greenhouse, Not Just the Syllabus

MIT, Stanford, and a few other elite institutions operate like greenhouses. They don’t just plant seeds of knowledge; they create social ecosystems where growth is inevitable because of the soil, the sunlight, and the face-to-face proximity to other growing minds.

That’s the lesson for every college, especially those outside the top 50 rankings. You don’t need a $20 billion endowment to create meaningful social capital. You need:

• Intentional spaces that encourage connection.
• Next generation residential and retail dining programs that make spontaneous combustion of face-to-face conversations inevitable.
• Programming that teaches students how to build their personal networks.
• And an institutional commitment to creating moments of “serendipitous collision.”

The ROI on this kind of design is enormous. When students leave with a strong network, a sense of belonging, and the skill of learning itself, they are recession-proof, disruption-proof, and future-ready.

A Message to Students: Don’t Miss the Real Curriculum

If you’re in college or heading there soon, listen carefully to Peter Diamandis’ words. Yes, work hard. Yes, get the grades but don’t mistake the syllabus for the education.

Invest your time in:

• Building friendships with people who are smarter or different from you.
• Learning how to ask better questions, not just give better answers.
• Partnering with classmates on impossible side projects.
• Eating meals with intention, break bread, don’t just grab it while feeding souls.

The friendships and contacts you form, as well as the collaborative skills you develop will serve as the foundation for everything you build later in life. That’s the unspoken credential that separates those who just got a degree from those who got a transformative experience.

Final Thought: The Degree is the Receipt. Mindset and Purpose are the Product.

Diamandis’s quote captures something profoundly true about the college experience, especially at institutions like MIT. The diploma is merely the artifact. What matters is how you changed, who you met, and how you learned to learn your mindset and sense of purpose. Those are the things that will most significantly influence and shape your character, career, contributions to the world, and longevity.

If you’re a college administrator and your primary strategic goals include increasing enrollment, improving student retention, and achieving 100% housing occupancy, then your institution’s survival and long-term success depend on more than just academic programs and facilities. You must ensure that you’re building social eco-systems of human connection campus-wide ecosystems that actively foster richer levels of student engagement and social capital. Think of your campus as a potential Blue Zone for belonging: a place where students feel seen, supported, and connected. By intentionally designing spaces and programs that nurture friendships, encourage collaboration, and eliminate social isolation, you create an environment where students don’t just enroll. They stay, thrive, and succeed.

If you’re a student, don’t just chase grades, chase growth. Seek out the moments that challenge your thinking, expand your social network, and shape the person you’re becoming. College isn’t just preparation for life it is life. The relationships you build now will become the foundation for your future partnerships, ventures, and support systems.

And if you lead dining, space planning, or student life, recognize that the table is far more than a place to eat. It has the potential to be the a daily epicenter of human connection an intentional space that sparks conversation, fosters friendships, and ignites the kind of collaboration that defines a truly transformational college experience.

Because in the end, the real education isn’t what’s taught, it’s what’s caught in this once-in-a-lifetime face to face college experience. community.That’s what shapes your mindset, your sense of purpose, and your ability to become a lifelong game changer.