Mise au point denotes an act of careful preparation—bringing a material or an object to the point where it begins fulfilling its purpose. If we apply this notion to the built environment, then mise au point is a good way to describe Switzerland. The place rarely feels chaotic or uncontrolled; inevitable accidents are put right; excesses, such as they are, kept under cover. As a rule, the appearance of the Swiss built environment is defined by order, an order entrenched at a cultural level. Buildings, infrastructure, and the landscape are organized so as to enable efficiency—of action, movement, enterprise. Regardless of things in flow, the fixed elements are in their rightful place, discreetly helpful, giving rise to a sense of smoothness that is alternatively inspiring and infuriating, liberating and suppressive. This atmosphere is palpable as soon as one crosses into Swiss territory: it is not merely a cultural imperative but also a political device.

In its role as administratively ratified cultural production, architecture plays a major role in this status quo. It willingly complies with the demands placed upon it, and leading by example, it invites its users to do the same. Individual exceptions are not glorified as acts of wonder but are more likely to be read as brash and arrogant. Follies, of which there are quite a few, are nevertheless discouraged, cancelled out. Paradoxically, outstanding architecture is judged by its capacity to fit in with its surrounds, no matter how commonplace. However, this fine balancing act required between camouflage and interpretation opens a sufficient discursive range. In the pedagogical method developed by ETH Professor Miroslav Sik under the banner of analoge Architektur, ordinary