My “museums designed by blankfaces” series: London Science Museum

Three times in my life, I’ve gone to museums where I had such a horrifying experience, and was treated by museum staff with such blankfaced contempt, that the only way I could restore any feeling of cosmic justice was to use this blog to impose some cost on the museum for what it did to me. The first time was when my family was turned away from the Mark Twain House in Hartford, CT, after we’d made a long detour there. Turns out it was guided tours only (idiotic policy right there), and while the last guided tour hadn’t yet left and wasn’t full, the blankface behind the desk arbitrarily decided that we’d come too late, and that therefore we should just leave. The second time, a couple months ago, was when my son and I were kicked out of the only decent room in Washington DC’s “Planet Word” — when we were singled out as criminals despite not having passed any sign telling us not to enter — after my son had found the only exhibit in the museum that held his interest.

Today, alas, it was the London Science Museum, which was the very first thing we chose to visit on my kids’ very first visit to the UK. Every positive review of this abomination on the Internet is a lie, every British person should feel ashamed to have the museum represent him or her, and every visitor should avoid it at all costs.

For an hour, my son desperately needed to use a bathroom. But there’s apparently only one set of bathrooms in the whole museum, hidden away in the basement with no signs leading to them. I asked multiple employees. Not one of them could clearly answer the “where is the bathroom?” question — as if I’d asked them for an interdimensional platypus, or as if the English don’t speak English. Eventually I called out loudly: “WOW, OH MY GOD, THERE ARE NO BATHROOMS ON THIS ENTIRE FLOOR! WHAT KIND OF MUSEUM IS THIS? WHAT IDIOTS DESIGNED IT? HOW HORRIBLE COULD IT POSSIBLY BE?” Many employees heard; not one offered to help. May they feel shame until the day they die.

Beyond that, each exhibit was a depressing touch-screen job designed by morons, like the iPad games that otherwise fill my kids’ lives except even less educational and certainly less fun. And I haven’t even mentioned the neverending lines (sorry, “queues”). Belying the English reputation for politeness, other patrons constantly butted ahead of me and my son, so that the queue for each exhibit got longer the longer we stood. In an hour, my son got to see a grand total of two exhibits. They both sucked.

Apparently there are amazing historical artifacts elsewhere in the museum, including a Babbage Analytical Engine. Alas, we felt forced to leave before we got to see any of those.

There’s one other part of the museum that apparently doesn’t suck, called “WonderLab.” But our extra-cost WonderLab tickets were for 4pm, and the rest of the museum sucked so badly that my son and I stormed out beforehand. We instead took a long walk through Hyde Park, talking about all the plants and birds we encountered and ending up at the Diana Memorial Playground. It was an infinitely better experience than the one we’d paid for.

Speaking of which, we got scammed. Just like at Planet Word, the entrance fee — we might as well call it that, for all you’ll realistically avoid paying — is called a “suggested donation.” But then, after the blankfaces twist the knife and ruin your family’s entire vacation, you’re not entitled to a refund, because after all, you technically never bought anything … you just “donated”!

I feel like my standards for museums are rock-bottom. Just provide me and my kids a non-horrible experience. Have stuff for my kids to play with, right now, without directing me or them to go through your blankfaced processes or systems. Have chicken tenders if my kids are hungry, water fountains if they’re thirsty, benches if they’re tired, and bathrooms if they need bathrooms. And most importantly: if you see guests suffering because of the idiocies of your museum’s design, be helpful and apologetic rather than blankfaced and contemptuous.

The London Science Museum failed on each of these counts.

And yes, I know, I know: I’m the crazy one. To paraphrase a famous Londoner, the reasonable man adapts himself to blankfaced museums, while the unreasonable man persists in trying to adapt those museums to himself. Therefore all progress in making museums non-horrible depends on unreasonable men.

We have another week in London and Oxford. I hope and expect it will be better than this!