Biophilic Design in Corrections Facilities

# When I First Walked Into a Prison and Realized We’re Getting Everything Wrong About Human Spaces

Okay, so I never thought I’d find myself walking through a prison corridor thinking about houseplants and natural light, but here we are. It started about eight months ago when my cousin Jenny, who works as a social worker in the state corrections system, mentioned this documentary she’d watched about Scandinavian prisons. You know how sometimes someone says something that just gets stuck in your head? She said the inmates there had rooms with actual windows, and some facilities even had gardens where people could grow vegetables.

My first reaction was honestly pretty typical – “Well that sounds nice, but these are criminals we’re talking about.” But then I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I mean, I’ve been obsessing over biophilic design for my own tiny apartment for like two years now, reading everything I can find about how natural elements affect our brains and stress levels. And suddenly I’m wondering: what happens when you take people who are already dealing with incredible stress and stick them in environments that are completely cut off from anything natural?

So I started digging around online, which is basically how I spend all my free time anyway. There wasn’t a ton of research specifically about nature-based design in prisons, but what I found was pretty fascinating. There was this study from Washington state showing that inmates who participated in gardening programs had 24% fewer disciplinary infractions. Another one from Utah found that people with cells facing natural landscapes had fewer medical visits than those staring at brick walls or parking lots.

Jenny helped me arrange a visit to the facility where she works – nothing fancy, just a medium-security place about an hour outside the city. Walking through those doors was honestly jarring. I mean, I expected it to be institutional and sterile, but I wasn’t prepared for how completely dead it would feel. That’s really the only word for it. Concrete walls, metal everywhere, and these buzzing fluorescent lights that reminded me of the worst office building I’ve ever worked in, except worse.

The corrections officer showing us around – this guy Mike who’s been there for over twenty years – said something that really stuck with me: “These walls don’t just keep people in; they keep everything else out.” We were standing in this central corridor, and I realized you couldn’t see a single living thing from where we stood. No plants, no natural light, no views of the outdoors. Nothing.

I kept thinking about my apartment and how awful I felt during those early pandemic months when I was stuck inside all day with terrible lighting and no plants. That was temporary and voluntary, and I still felt like garbage. These people are living in spaces like this for years, sometimes decades. How is that supposed to help anyone become healthier or more stable?

So I went down another internet rabbit hole, reading about prison design and rehabilitation. I came across descriptions of some Nordic facilities that looked more like college dormitories than the concrete boxes we’re used to here. Individual rooms with windows, common areas with natural materials, access to outdoor spaces. Their recidivism rates are way lower than ours too, though obviously there are a lot of factors involved in that.

But it got me thinking about whether some of the biophilic design principles I’d been learning about might actually work in correctional settings. I know that sounds naive – trust me, I’ve gotten plenty of eye rolls when I’ve brought this up. “You want to put houseplants in prison cells?” is usually how these conversations go. But that’s not really what I’m talking about.

What I found in my research was that even small changes can make a difference. There was this study about a juvenile detention center in Illinois that renovated one wing with better lighting that mimics natural daily rhythms, some natural materials like wood panels, and a central courtyard with plants. Staff reported way less aggressive behavior from the kids after the changes. The facility director I read about said something like, “These kids often come from places where being outside was the only time they felt safe, and then we lock them up in concrete boxes and expect them to learn healthy coping skills.”

That really hit me, you know? I started thinking about all the research I’d read about how human brains are basically wired to need connection with natural elements. We evolved over millions of years in natural environments. When you completely remove those connections, you’re creating spaces that work against basic human biology. For anyone that’s problematic, but for people already under extreme stress? It seems almost cruel.

The security concerns are obviously real – I’m not suggesting we just tear down walls and plant gardens everywhere. But I started looking into what kinds of nature-based changes might actually be compatible with safety requirements. Turns out there are quite a few options.

Natural light is probably the easiest one. You can increase window area with security glazing that doesn’t compromise the building structure but makes a huge difference for people inside. I read about studies showing that adequate natural light improves sleep, reduces depression, and helps maintain healthy circadian rhythms – all super important for psychological stability.

Even just visual connections to nature can help. Strategic window placement and courtyard designs that let people see green spaces without necessarily giving them physical access. I watched this short documentary where they showed inmates at various facilities, and there was this moment where a guy paused mid-conversation because a bird landed on his window ledge. Just this tiny moment of connection with something alive and free.

The materials used in most prisons – concrete, steel, plastic everything – aren’t just ugly, they’re sensory deprivation. These materials create these harsh acoustic environments that amplify stress. I read about facilities that have started using natural materials like properly sealed wood, wool acoustic panels, even certain stone applications that meet security requirements but completely transform how a space feels.

There was this article about a facility in Colorado that replaced standard vinyl flooring with natural rubber that looks and feels like wood. It met all their security standards but changed the whole atmosphere. One inmate mentioned how different it sounded to walk on – “not that hollow echo that makes you feel like you’re in a cave all day.”

Water features sound impossible in prison settings, but I found examples of secured water walls and fountains that were designed to meet safety standards. The sound of moving water helps mask conversations in counseling areas and has this naturally calming effect that staff said helped de-escalate tense situations.

Circadian lighting seems like such an obvious thing to try. Replacing fluorescent fixtures with LED systems that mimic natural light cycles throughout the day doesn’t require major construction but provides real physiological benefits. I read about a pilot program at a women’s facility that showed improved sleep quality and reduced seasonal depression after they installed these systems in common areas and cells.

Even something as simple as nature imagery can make a difference. There’s research showing that looking at pictures or videos of nature can trigger positive physiological responses – reduced stress hormones, lower blood pressure, that kind of thing. In hospital studies, patients who looked at nature imagery experienced pain reduction similar to certain medications. In prisons, having nature scenes in counseling spaces and common areas creates these small psychological breaks from the intensity of confinement.

The plant situation is obviously more complicated. You have to worry about toxic species or plants that could be used as weapons or to make drugs or alcohol. But several facilities have successfully created secured planting areas with carefully selected species. Often the maintenance becomes shared work between staff and inmates, which creates meaningful activity that’s also therapeutic.

I read about this women’s facility in California that has a horticultural therapy program as part of their substance abuse treatment. The program director said something like, “Watching something grow because you take care of it – that changes people. Many of these women have never experienced being successful at nurturing anything, including themselves.”

Money always comes up as the main objection. Prison budgets are tight, and anything that looks like making things “nicer” for inmates faces pushback. But what’s interesting is that many of these changes actually save money over time. Better lighting systems cost more upfront but use less energy. Natural materials often last longer and need less maintenance than the standard plastic and metal stuff.

The biggest potential savings, though, relate to recidivism. I read that it costs anywhere from $25,000 to over $60,000 per year to incarcerate one person, depending on the state. If creating more humane environments leads to even small reductions in people returning to prison, the financial impact would be enormous. Obviously we need more research to prove that connection, but the logic makes sense to me.

What gets me excited is that I’ve been seeing more interest in this lately. I’ve read about several states starting to incorporate biophilic design considerations into standards for new facilities. Even existing prisons are exploring retrofit options, especially in rehabilitation and counseling areas.

The coolest thing I learned about was a facility in Washington that created a design committee including staff, administrators, and long-term inmates. They worked together to identify practical solutions that everyone could support. Not only did they come up with thoughtful ideas, but giving the incarcerated people a voice in their environment seemed to be rehabilitative in itself.

Look, I’m not saying prisons should feel like luxury hotels. There are real security concerns and budget constraints and public perception issues. But within those boundaries, it seems like there’s huge potential to create environments that support rehabilitation instead of working against it.

When I think about how much better I feel in my apartment after adding plants and improving the lighting, and then imagine spending years in spaces designed to exclude every natural element… it just seems counterproductive to what we’re supposedly trying to accomplish. The question isn’t whether we can afford to bring some nature into these spaces. Given what we know about human psychology and the costs of our current system, maybe we can’t afford not to.