Biophilic design might not seem like a natural fit for 3D warehouses. After all, these spaces are typically not intended for connection with the natural world—quite the opposite, in fact. But in the minds of its creators, Amazon’s 3D warehouse is a structure that operates at the intersection of efficiency and the human experience, one that is designed for the well-being of its workers rather than for the robotic systems that might, in the not-too-distant future, do much of the work within these 3D boxes. The implicit philosophy shared by the folks at Amazon and the still-growing biophilic design movement is that spaces ought to look and feel good to the people who inhabit them. And what could be more radical—as a thought experiment or a feasible design philosophy—in 2024 than to create an environment that seamlessly combines human experience, technological efficiency, and sustainability within a 3D warehouse?
When I am tasked with creating a biophilic warehouse, one of the first things I examine is the potential for bringing in natural light. Most warehouses are enormous, windowless caverns that feel entirely cut off from the outside world. However, there is a strong trend among designers of biophilic warehouses to introduce daylight deep into these vast spaces, using big skylights and high clerestory windows. A good friend and colleague, Gus Bostrom, introduced me to a cutting-edge 3D warehouse that has been designed using this practice. I purposefully walked through the warehouse, taking in the space and the daylight I could feel in contrast to the artificial light I’ve experienced in every other warehouse I’ve been in.
Designing a warehouse that incorporates nature often means adding elements like natural light. While some might see this as purely an aesthetic concern, it’s actually about much more than looks. Including natural light in a space has been proven to do wonders for the human psyche—up mood and productivity, lower energy costs, and, in some contexts, even enhance the accuracies of tasks requiring a great deal of detail and focus. In a super warehouse—whether serving Amazon or any other distribution company—operational efficiencies are of utmost importance. Even slight gains made here can have dramatic effects on the bottom line. Staffers in warehouses where natural light has been implemented report feeling better and less fatigued. That’s a clear example of biophilic design in action.
Another interesting development I’ve observed is how much greenery there is in some of the innovative 3D warehouses I have toured. In the break areas of these facilities, there are living walls filled with low-maintenance plants in places that wouldn’t naturally have light. Plants are everywhere in these types of warehouses—in break areas, in common areas, and even along the edges of workspaces. The workplace plants not only create a more industrial feel, but they also improve air quality, reduce noise (especially in common areas), and provide a space that is almost a light and sound refuge for people who work in the environment. I visited one 3D printing operation that had plants in the break areas. The walls were filled with low-maintenance plants that thrived under the natural and artificial light provided by the unique lighting system of the warehouse.
What really piques my interest about biophilic design in a 3D warehouse is how it aligns with and encourages the shift toward sustainability in industrial spaces. It’s no secret that sustainable practices are designed not only to benefit the environment but also to bolster business. Biophilia in distribution centers, nevertheless, is still a nascent idea; I couldn’t find many Biophilically designed examples in warehouses, save for a project from 2016 mentioned by the International Living Future Institute. The logistics center in that example had incorporated a green roof. A significant statement in and of itself, it nonetheless also serves to insulate the building and reduce energy costs.
Integrating biophilic features like natural light and plants into warehouses is an essential move toward better employee well-being. But if you really want to put the “bio” in biophilia, you have to go beyond fetching nature’s lady qualities—like bioluminescence—into the built environment. And that’s where the idea of “Designing with Nature” in a 3D space comes into play. The human experience is the main focus of any environment. And that tall order is especially necessary when humans are working long hours under strenuous conditions that require repetitive, highly structured tasks. By utilizing the principles of biophilic design, I believe we can make warehouses more human-friendly.
The introduction of biophilic break zones is one of the most creative approaches I’ve encountered. These are specific areas within the warehouse where employees can take a break and reconnect with nature. I visited a facility where the management team had created a dedicated “nature zone” inside the operation. The nature zone had lots of plants, a small water feature, natural seating made with reclaimed wood, and ambient lighting. The area was designed to help employees recharge without being overwhelmed by the lightning-fast pace of the high-tech operation surrounding them.
The employees adored it. They would carry their midday meal to the wonderful space that had been created as an oasis amid the business of the workday. One employee said that they indeed only felt relaxed and unhurried in that space during the whole workday. These instances are perfect examples of biophilic design working in a warehouse setting to not just make a space more visually appealing but also to contribute positively and directly to the mental health and well-being of employees and their productivity.
Another trending development in 3D warehouses is the use of natural materials. I have observed more and more designers opting for natural woods, stone, and other organic materials in key areas, moving away from the purely industrial aesthetics of metal and concrete. In one warehouse, for instance, I saw that office areas and the meeting room had the same warm, inviting wood paneling for the walls and natural stone for the floors. I distinctly remember how the natural materials influenced not just the look of the space but also its overall vibe; workers remarked appreciatively on how much the natural materials reduced the chill of the sterile warehouse.
One project I remember consulting on involved integrating a lot of salvaged materials into the design process. The warehouse was being fitted with shiny, cutting-edge 3D printing equipment, and our client wanted to throw a little nature into the mix—more sustainable design elements, maybe even a campfire story, to help balance the high-tech atmosphere with something warmer and more inviting. Reclaimed wood ended up in the break areas, for instance, and most of the furniture was built from repurposed materials. The technology was so impressive, yet the space felt connected to something real and substantial when you considered all the work that went into the design and the stories that the team could tell about their reclaimed materials.
Another principal aspect of biophilic design that is crucial to warehouses is sustainability—especially now, as many companies redouble their efforts to slash their carbon footprints. I had an opportunity, not long ago, to tour a 3D fulfillment center that had been outfitted with biophilic design, with the sustainability part of the equation emphasized. The large windows on the building’s perimeter appeared to be the source of whatever ambient light was present within, which corresponded to the noon hour on the day of my visit. I can’t say that I was bowled over by the quantity of light—definitely more than enough to do what needed doing, but not what I would call comfortably illuminated. I do think the big windows are a good move anyway, corresponding as they do with one of the “Human-Nature Connection” principles of Illumination for which biophilic design advocates. And hey, if nothing else, they certainly reduce the need for artificial light, as well as the power plants that produce it.
Integrating the beauty of nature into a warehouse is just one part of the solution. The way a space is laid out and how people move through it are equally important to creating a biophilic environment that enhances productivity and well-being. Of course, the people who work in a warehouse may not have as much to say about the way the space is organized or how the flow is designed as, say, the person at a 10th Avenue art gallery. But all the same, the deliberate choice of form and pathway can make the difference between a place that feels good to work in and one that feels like nothing more than an efficient machine.
I participated in a project where we designed a series of pathways that imitated the sinuous movement of a river. The pathways were bordered by plants and natural stone, and they curved gently through the warehouse, directing people to different work stations and break areas. The intent was to provide an alternative to the straight-line routes found in most industrial settings. Those who move through the space—call them workers, if you wish—have commented on how much they appreciate this more relaxed arrangement. Paths that follow a natural form are easier on the eyes, not to mention the spirit; after all, none of us are really machines. And as for me, well, I found it rather pleasant to amble along these pathways.
An even more thrilling trend for next year involves technology and biophilic design converging in 3D warehouses. These usually cutting-edge spaces can feel very much at odds with nature, given their heavy reliance on automated systems, robotics, and sheer manpower. But 3D warehouses present a big opportunity to enhance both the efficiency of the technology and the well-being of the associates who work alongside it, especially in automated storage and retrieval systems. One of the most intriguing developments here is the use of biophilic design to make automated systems feel more natural and less alien.
Take a highly automated 3D printing facility, for instance. The designers had integrated natural elements into the various spaces where humans and robots might interact. Instead of a cold, sterile corridor filled with nothing but machines, the warehouse featured natural wood accents, plants, and windows that opened to views of greenery in the distance. Even the path the automated robots traveled was designed so that it would blend better with the surrounding. … But the combination of high-tech systems and biophilic design elements offered a sense of balance. The space felt like a place where technology and nature could coexist in harmony.
Integrating biophilia into tech-heavy spaces is especially important as industrial automation becomes more prevalent. Workers, after all, are human beings whose experiences, for better or worse, are the dimensions of their engagement, productivity, and well-being. The real challenge of biophilic design is creating an experience using natural elements in spaces where it might seem impossible to do so. How do you introduce the smell of fresh air; the sound of rustling leaves; the sight of nature, or even something natural, in a scene without actual trees, or “actual” anything, in areas where there can be no windows? Enter virtual reality. Some companies are using it to simulate natural environments in places like warehouses where adding traditional biophilic elements might be too much of a challenge, to “create” natural experiences without actually using nature to do so.
An increasingly important aspect of biophilic warehouse design is the use of natural ventilation systems. In my most recent consulting gig, my colleagues and I worked with a client on a 3D printing facility that was to be built in a former warehouse. We designed an airflow system that used natural ventilation to regulate the indoor climate. We didn’t rely on air conditioning or mechanical means of moving air; instead, we incorporated operable windows, large ceiling fans, and vents strategically placed at low and high points that drew fresh air in and allowed used air to escape. The result was an environmentally friendly, comfortable space that was directly responsive to both human and non-human inhabitants.
Incorporating natural air movement has the additional advantage of enhancing indoor air quality—an especially important aspect of well-being in warehouses, where chemicals, dust, and other pollutants can collect. By using large quantities of natural light and ventilation and by bringing in common plants found in the local area that act as air filters, we were able to create a far healthier indoor air environment. The experience of thinking this way, of designing for both air quality and a healthier indoor work environment, is one that many businesses are starting to recognize as beneficial.
A truly unforgettable assignment for me was converting a rundown, outdated warehouse into a state-of-the-art facility for 3D printing. This project held so much potential because it allowed us not just to retrofit a space but to reinvent it. The façade of the building, which opened to the roof, was an emblem for the whole undertaking. From an architectural perspective, we were creating a place aligned with biophilic design principles, with nature as our guide. That meant we needed to light the structure in a way that mimicked sunlight. It also meant we had to cover the walls, floors, and ceiling with plants—the space is filled with gardens—so that the employees could practically walk through the facility’s ambient soundtrack of nature.
The heart of the warehouse was the rooftop garden—a place that employees could escape to during their breaks, to lounge comfortably among the plants and enjoy the views of the surrounding city. The layout was conducive to low maintenance, and we used mostly native plants that would thrive in our local climate with minimal intervention. The garden’s even more practical purpose was insulation. It served as an energy-efficient layer, which helped the building maintain internal temperatures, thus reducing heating and cooling costs. The garden also provided a habitat for the local birds and insects, which is kind of a nice thing to think about. My coworkers, without exception, loved the rooftop garden. They told me that having access to it was transformative, that it made coming to work something beyond the mere for-future-paycheck drudgery that anyone in such a position is prone to feeling.
From my perspective, this project brought home the idea that biophilic design is more than just pretty pictures. When it comes to the spaces where we work and live, biophilic design is about fostering an experience that is well, sustainable, and connected to the world around us. Even in places like 3D printing warehouses, which by their nature are industrial and purely functional, there is opportunity for nature and, by extension, well-being. And as we continue to inhabit environments pushing the limits of Form and Function, biophilic design becomes more—and not less—necessary for the experience of the realm that it serves.
As I look toward the future, one thing excites me: biophilic design in industrial environments. This is the nascent field where natural aspects are brought into the kind of high-tech, high-stakes places that make up contemporary industry, from 3D printing workshops to vast data repositories. And I’m hopeful: if a really smart, human-centered design can work its magic in those hallowed cathedrals of tech, then it ought to be able to work in human-centered fashion all across the spectrum of biophilic potential—from living walls, to green roofs, to soundscapes, to lighting that channels the kind of energy available from the sun, to surfaces that tap into the textures and materials of our biomes.
