By Students might see a crowd forming while walking by the GO BEACH sign on campus at Long Beach State during the busy hours of the day.
A small gap, intended for something other than mainline traffic, has been utilized as such by students for years. This gap, or desire path, has constantly been sought out over the actual walkway in front of the GO BEACH sign.
According to 2011 Alumni and Alumni Engagement Associate Ilana Tel-Oren, this space, colloquially known as “the gap,” is located directly behind the tail-end of the GO BEACH sign. This crevice, no wider than two feet, has had students and faculty squeezing through it for generations.
Even before the GO BEACH letters were placed, “the gap” was used so often that it has become a historical tradition among faculty and students, including third-year health science major Payton Luke.
“I noticed the gap in my first year… I saw other people go through it, and it’s kind of just a habit now,” Luke said.
The phenomenon at the GO BEACH sign can be defined as a “desire path.” Desire paths form when animals, typically humans, repeatedly walk along an unintended route, creating a “path” over time.
One example of desired paths off campus would be offshoots of bike paths or hiking trails. These alternate paths are utilized so much that they become recognizable and more used than original trails.
Andrew Furman, an architecture professor from Ryerson University, spent many years researching this concept and said desire paths show the endless human desire for choice and agency in the book, “Sustainable City VII.”
“Well, the shortest distance between two paths is a straight line, so people see the shorter distance and follow that way—we are creatures of habit,” CSULB Psychology professor David Whitney said. “In terms of people waiting or crowding around the gap, we tend to double down on our choices even when there is a cost.”
From a social psychological perspective, desire paths exemplify the human desire for efficiency, agency and the inherent desire to be part of a group. Due to this convergence of desires, going through “the gap” has become a ritual amongst students and faculty.
Many incoming students see the crowd push through “the gap” and follow in their footsteps, creating the current cycle.
This innate desire for efficiency and choice has created a collective mindset that the GO BEACH gap is necessary for the campus landscape.
Interviews with dozens of students on campus suggest the gap feels like a more efficient route than the one provided by the larger, laid-out walkway. Students and faculty have taken it upon themselves to define this crevice as the optimal travel method.
This habitual choice reflects the human desire to pave their own way, whether in life or for something as simple as traveling up and down campus.
“I feel like it’s shorter,” Matthew Delmar, senior art major, said. “Sometimes I have to go around when I have a lot of stuff and can’t fit through the gap. I think it’s kind of funny when people with a lot of stuff are so dead set on going through the gap, even if they are carrying like five bags.”
Though “the gap” is innocuous, it is a historically social phenomenon contributing to a slice of CSULB history. Its use shows that something as trivial as a gap in a walkway’s architecture can significantly impact both CSULB students and faculty—past, present and future.
