Doolittle, E. (2018). Off the grid. In S. Gerofsky (Ed.), Contemporary environmental and mathematics education: Modelling using new geometric approaches (pp. 101–121). Springer. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-319-72523-9_7
Introduction
In “Off the Grid,” Edward Doolittle critiques the widespread
reliance on grid-based ways of organizing space and time, arguing that
grids—rectangular plots, straight borders, fixed schedules, and Euclidean
geometry—create an illusion of order and fairness while often distorting
reality. Drawing on Indigenous knowledge (particularly Rotinonhsonni
traditions) and advanced mathematics, Doolittle shows that grids work only
under ideal conditions and frequently fail in natural, social, and educational
contexts.
Through examples from urban planning, land surveying, agriculture,
and mapping, Doolittle demonstrates how grids clash with uneven terrain, the
curvature of the earth, ecological variation, and lived experience. He links
grid thinking to control, ownership, and colonial power, noting how imposed
grids have contributed to Indigenous land dispossession and rigid schooling
practices. In contrast, Indigenous spatial and temporal frameworks emphasize relationship,
responsiveness, and place, such as defining territory by watersheds rather than
straight lines, or timing agricultural practices by animal and plant behavior
rather than calendars.
Doolittle proposes moving “off the grid” by embracing alternative
geometries—including Riemannian geometry, fractals, complexity theory, knot
theory, and weaving—which better reflect natural systems and change over time.
He concludes that these “geometries of liberation” can help free mathematics
education from rigid abstractions and reconnect it to ethics, ecology, and
lived reality.
Reflection
Reading Edward Doolittle’s Off the Grid made me think deeply
about how mapping and geometry differ across countries, cultures, and
histories. One contrast that stood out to me is the way political boundaries
are drawn. In Canada and the United States, many provincial and state
boundaries appear as straight lines, reflecting grid-based surveying systems
imposed for administrative efficiency. In contrast, in China (and similarly in
Korea and some other regions), boundaries are often nonlinear, shaped by
natural features such as rivers and mountain ranges, as well as long-standing
political and historical processes.
In addition, I remember that in Chinese history education, even
though I am not good at it, there is a commonly referenced natural division
between northern and southern China, often defined by a major mountain range
and river system. This geographic boundary is not just a line on a map; it
shapes people’s sense of belonging. Many people still identify themselves as
being “from the north” or “from the south,” and these identities correspond to
clear differences in climate, agriculture, food cultures, dialects, and
lifestyles. These differences emerged because people adapted to the land and
environment around them, rather than forcing the land into a uniform grid. This
resonates strongly with Doolittle’s argument about thinking “off the grid,” and
it also makes me wonder whether this difference reflects, at least partly, the
contrast between immigration countries and non-immigration countries in how
land is conceptualized, divided, and governed.
This chapter also reinforced my belief that bringing this kind of
knowledge into mathematics education is critical. Geometry should not be
limited to straight lines, right angles, and rectangular grids. To me,
mathematics is better understood as a discipline of reasoning, pattern
recognition, and sense-making. The way people live differently on the two sides
of a mountain or river in China is not random—it reflects patterns shaped by
geography, climate, and history. These patterns can be analyzed mathematically,
but only if mathematics is allowed to connect with geography, history, ecology,
and culture.
Doolittle’s work reminds us that mathematics is not separate from
lived reality. Teaching students to see math as a tool for understanding
human–environment relationships, rather than just a set of abstract rules,
opens powerful possibilities for cross-disciplinary learning and more just,
meaningful education.
Question
Because Off the Grid is primarily an ideological and
philosophical piece rather than an empirical study, I find it difficult to pose
a highly technical question about it. Instead, could you share an experience,
observation, or example—from teaching, learning, mapping, or everyday
life—where grid-based thinking failed to capture reality, or where thinking
“off the grid” offered a deeper or more just understanding of space, time, or
relationships? How does this example help you interpret Doolittle’s argument?
