Where does the development of young minds truly take place? It happens in schools—those cherished environments where children can be children, spaces that, we hope, allow an experimentation of sorts with the very nature of existence, albeit in a protected framework. Yet even in schools, architects and designers have long adored the drool-worthy unsung hero of—
Wait, don’t leave just yet. I promise it’s not an unsung hero for no reason. Functionality is the obvious reason. And safe spaces that foster environments conducive to learning? That’s another reason. But here’s the key reason: the physical space itself affects psychological well-being. And how do we know this? Because here’s where biophilic design comes in—light, color, space, and greenery make for an enriching, not to mention holistic, learning experience.
The typical school design for decades has embodied concrete walls, sterile hallways, and closed classrooms far removed from the vibrant outside world. But biophilic design, which encourages a rethink of this school design, aims to in immerse students in natural environments or, at the very least, to provide them with an en suite view of some portion of the outside world. Why is that important? Because, it turns out, there is a human genetic imperative to bond with the natural world. School designs that pay troth to nature—in whatever form they might take—are destined to confer benefits on student occupants in a way that the designs of yesteryear manifestly do not.
One of the most unforgettable episodes I’ve experienced was visiting a recently built elementary school in a suburban area. The forward-thinking design team that worked on the school placed such a strong emphasis on biophilic design that it could have been labeled a “nature school.” I stepped into a world so filled with nature that it was hard to imagine the inside of a school could harbor that much wildness. The spaces were filled with light coming through huge windows. Big plants inhabited every corner. Even the roof was a “nature zone.” Out in the main area was an open-air courtyard. It had a great deal going on. There were all kinds of native plants. Two resident birds—it couldn’t be anything but a great pairing for a bird—had plenty of places to nest. Both would be in trouble if they tried to nest in any of the nearby aviaries.
When conversing with the students and staff, it became obvious just how much this biophilic approach had impacted the school. Teachers reported a significant decrease in behavioral issues, and students appeared more engaged and focused. In a classroom I observed, students sat at large, floor-to-ceiling windows that fronted on the view of a small forest adjacent to the school. Between classes, students enjoyed the opportunity to spend some time recharging in the calm of the courtyard. It was all so delightfully remedial; signs of life were everywhere inside and outside the building. Nature was with us and leading us to some deep behavioral learning.
The specific experience under discussion teaches us an invaluable lesson about the direct effect of biophilic design on the mental and emotional well-being of students. This research is based on an understanding that children—especially in their formative years—are acutely attuned to and affected by their environment. One could almost say that they are “wired” to respond to environmental stimuli in ways that enhance their development, both physically and neurologically. This adds much to the argument for the kind of design that brings biophilia into play. Our ongoing studies are measuring—at a level of rigor and depth not attempted before—the impacts that biophilic design can have in the very special context of learning for students.
The earlier discussion of the suburban school under examination can serve as a springboard for delving deeper into what really gives the atmosphere of biophilic schools its distinctive quality. The natural materials expressing either the school’s construction or its furnishings ought to serve as the first substrate within begging my case. They were chosen for their aesthetic qualities—especially their ability to look as though they belonged in a scene expressing a natural atmosphere. But they’ve been chosen for more than just their good looks. They’re an invitation to a more natural, multi-sensory experience—a way for expressing the value of biophilic design principles as they might apply in a school.
I remember a specific conversation I had with the principal during that visit. She told me about a student who had come to them from another school—two other schools, actually. He’d had a rough time at them, mostly because he was never able to really concentrate for long, and he was almost always on the edge of anxiousness. And what had happened was that since attending their specific, biophilic school, this kid had taken it to a whole other, much calmer place of being. He was now actually engaging with life. He was now also actually engaging with what his teachers were serving up as subjects. Biophilia? Whatever it is, they nailed it in the outdoor biology garden.
Biophilic school design is connected with some pretty solid academic benefits. Isn’t it remarkable that the very spaces in which we dwell can be calibrated to have significant beneficial effects upon our persons? What a powerful concept! Our environment can be built, quite literally, to promote specific kinds of effects regarding memory and other cognitive functions, even creativity itself! And our schools can be these places where not only is academic performance enhanced but also where the kind of silly but oh-so-sweet “enthusiasm for learning” is somehow more often observed.
Biophilic design can be achieved in any structure, even those with a smaller budget, such as educational facilities. Schools can apply biophilic principles in a multitude of ways, from the most minimal to more adventurous undertakings. Adding indoor plants and cultivating a small outdoor learning space are profoundly simple and effective ways of engaging with what biophilic design offers. Biophilic design espouses elements of nature. Indoor plants and availability of a small outdoor learning space are enactive elements of nature. They are components of biophilic design.
From my many visits to schools and work with a range of educational institutions, I know firsthand how effectively biophilic principles can be put into place, even within the confines of existing school structures. One way is to use outdoor spaces that many schools already have and to use them in better, more natural ways. That can happen with playgrounds, where children can engage with natural materials like wood, as well as in settings that give students a curriculum-based reason to tend to the kind of gardens that schools have, over which they can have a natural, if somewhat idiosyncratic, kind of control.
At a different school where I worked, the administration sought to cultivate a portion of their campus that wasn’t being utilized. They had an idea to transform a largely barren space (with a trivial amount of grass and some concrete benches) into an outdoor classroom. They brought in landscape architects and environmental experts to help them realize this vision. The result is impressive; the area now has various features (including raised garden beds and a small pond) that make it an appropriate space for environmental and other types of instruction. Eco-reality: At this school, the garden is part of the curriculum. Teachers use it to instruct students in ecology, local geology, and a few other subjects that intersect with their vision of the space.
In the same way, indoor environments can be turned into more biophilic settings. One of the simplest and most impactful ways to do this is by adding natural materials and textures. When I visited a high school in a densely populated city, I was astounded by the transformation of their main gathering space. What had once been a typical cafeteria with fluorescent lights and plastic chairs was now a space furnished with wood, vertical gardens, and lighting so “soft” it could have been a reading lamp. The presence and use of the natural materials had been scaled up considerably. And the impact was apparent. Students dove into this retreat between classes to do homework and chill معهم.
Another compelling instrument available for biophilic school design is color. Biophilic color schemes—evocations of nature in hues and saturations—can have profoundly calming effects on students. My experiences in classrooms painted in natural palettes have shown beyond a doubt that calming colors do result in calmer kids. These hues, when paired with the right kind of light—natural light if at all possible—make for a much more harmonious and soothing learning environment. My favorite example of how color does this comes from a school in North Carolina that converted a hallway painted prison gray into a wooded environment by painting the space with various shades of brown and green.
Light is just as important. In a unique project I participated in, the fluorescent library light was switched for something more natural, and that moved the peninsula. Windows were added to form a half-wall, so that here, above the tops of the books, the readers could look into the conversing world outside. The “artificial” lighting used was chosen for that same daylight look that the human eye can no longer, in our technologically driven world, take for granted. But the difference, not only between what classroom lighting is now and what it can be, but also between what it can be and what it essentially ought to be, is almost beyond imagining or belief. Once you’ve experienced “good” light, “bad” light is almost an unbearable burden.
What is perhaps most thrilling about biophilic school design is that it goes beyond mere aesthetics and even the enhancement of student performance; it is about nurturing a profound connection between students and the natural world. At a moment when children are spending an unprecedented amount of time indoors and apart from the environment, schools have a prime opportunity to work against this trend. By incorporating biophilic elements, they can serve as a counterbalance to this in-the-second-space-without-light, virtually connected, social media moment. They can, by marrying sustainability with aesthetics in a way that is accessible and doable to them, renew in students the nature of nature in five important ways.
Having spent years watching, designing, and studying biophilic spaces, I have come to understand their profound effects, especially in schools. Biophilic spaces elevate the power of biophilia, our innate affinity for nature. Biophilic design takes that power and deploys it in the built environment of our schools. It does not isometricly replicate or replace nature but rather employs natural elements as the conduits to confer nature’s myriad benefits to students of all ages—benefits that radically change how students think, feel, and engage with the world.
When we design schools using biophilic principles, we are not only remaking the physical structures of our educational institutions but also the very nature of the way students engage with their surroundings. We are opening the door to potentially far more creative, healthy, and immersive learning environments than have existed up to this point. For new schools being built and for old schools being renovated, there is a real and present opportunity to integrate biophilia into the structures’ design and thereby make nature an intrinsic part of the learning students are doing.
