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Reviewed by Jeff for Biophilic Flair
Look, I’ll be honest — when I first picked up Biophilic Design for Beginners by Laurel Ashby, I was skeptical. I’ve read enough design books that spend 200 pages throwing around terms like “spatial cognition” and “anthropogenic stressors” before finally telling you to… buy a plant. Maybe two plants if you’re feeling wild.
This book is different. Really different.
Ashby gets straight to the point: your space probably feels kind of blah, and there are actual, doable things you can try to make it better. No renovations. No expensive consultants. Just practical moves that work whether you’re in a rental apartment (hello, that’s me) or a suburban house with kids running around.
What Actually Works About This Book
The structure is smart. Instead of dumping everything on you at once, Ashby breaks biophilic design into digestible chunks — light, air, plants, materials, sound, layout — and treats each one like its own mini-project. You’re not trying to transform your entire home in a weekend. You’re learning one thing, trying it out, seeing how it feels, then moving on.
I especially appreciated the chapter on indoor plants for beginners. Because here’s the thing: I’ve killed a lot of plants. A lot. And most plant guides make you feel like an idiot for not knowing the difference between “bright indirect light” and “medium indirect light” (spoiler: even after reading those guides, I still don’t know). Ashby actually explains which plants are forgiving, what “drainage” really means in practice, and — bless her — includes notes about which ones are toxic to pets. That’s the kind of detail that matters when you’re living in the real world.
The section on light and lighting hit home too. I’d always vaguely known that natural light was “good” and fluorescent bulbs were “bad,” but Ashby explains why in plain language, then walks you through actual adjustments — where to put your desk, how to use sheers to stretch daylight, how to layer task lighting without making your apartment look like an operating room. I moved my reading chair closer to the window after reading this, and yeah, it made a difference. Small thing, but real.
The Stuff That Surprised Me
I wasn’t expecting a whole chapter on soundscapes and water features, but it turns out I needed it. My apartment has that weird city echo where every footstep and closing cabinet feels loud and harsh. Ashby talks about softening sound with rugs, curtains, and books (finally, a use for all those paperbacks I keep meaning to donate), and then gets into tabletop fountains — complete with warnings about moisture, outlets, and cleaning. It’s not just “buy a fountain” — it’s “here’s how to do this safely and not ruin your furniture.”
The layout chapter on “prospect and refuge” was another revelation. Basically, humans like being able to see out (prospect) while feeling protected (refuge), which explains why I always gravitate to the corner of the coffee shop with my back to the wall and a view of the door. Ashby shows you how to create that feeling at home — sightlines to windows, one cozy nook where you can actually relax, using plants and lamps to mark different zones. I rearranged my living room based on this and it genuinely feels less chaotic now.
Who This Book Is Actually For
If you’re a renter, a beginner, someone on a budget, or just generally winging it with your living space — this book is for you. Ashby clearly wrote this with real constraints in mind. She talks about vertical solutions for small spaces, portable furniture, balcony etiquette (yes, apparently you can annoy your downstairs neighbors with plant runoff — who knew?), and how to make a home office look decent on video calls without spending three hundred dollars on a ring light.
Parents and pet owners will appreciate the safety notes scattered throughout. Nothing’s more frustrating than reading a design tip that sounds great until you realize it involves a plant that’s toxic to cats or a water feature that’s a toddler hazard. Ashby flags these things upfront, which shows she actually gets how people live.
The Thirty-Day Plan Is Gold
Here’s what sold me: the book ends with a thirty-day starter plan that walks you through everything in a logical sequence. Day one is literally “clear surfaces and open curtains.” That’s it. Day five is about adding one plant. Day twelve is testing a new lamp. It’s so low-pressure and manageable that even someone like me — who tends to get excited, buy six things at once, then get overwhelmed and do nothing — can actually follow through.
I’m on day eighteen right now. My apartment still isn’t magazine-worthy, but it’s calmer. Brighter. It feels more like a place I want to be instead of a place I just happen to sleep. And that’s kind of the whole point, isn’t it?
A Few Small Nitpicks
The book could’ve used more photos or illustrations. There are a few moments where a visual would’ve helped — especially in the layout and lighting sections — but honestly, the descriptions are clear enough that I mostly figured it out.
Also, if you’re already deep into biophilic design or you’re a pro, this book might feel too basic. But that’s kind of the point. It’s for beginners. It says so right in the title.
Bottom Line
Biophilic Design for Beginners is the book I wish I’d found two years ago when I first started trying to make my rental apartment less soul-crushing. It’s practical, honest, and respectful of real-life constraints like budgets, leases, pets, and the fact that most of us don’t have a clue what we’re doing.
Laurel Ashby doesn’t talk down to you, doesn’t assume you have unlimited funds or expertise, and doesn’t try to sell you some complicated system. She just gives you tools, explains how they work, and trusts you to figure out what fits your life.
If you’ve ever looked around your space and thought, “This is fine, but it could feel… better,” pick up this book. Try a few things. See what happens. You might be surprised.
I know I was.
Rating: Highly Recommended
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Jeff writes about bringing bits of nature into everyday living spaces — not as a designer, but as a curious renter who experiments, fails, and keeps trying again. He shares what he’s learned about light, plants, and small changes that make big differences for real people living in ordinary apartments.
