When I enter a shopping mall, I often yearn for the serenity and organic feel of nature. Retail spaces could be a lot more than merely sterile environments with bright lights and an overwhelming amount of stuff to buy. The “magic” of biophilic design isn’t really magic at all; it’s simply an exciting opportunity to rethink how we experience retail environments. What if malls weren’t just places to buy things but also refuges that delight the senses? What if a biophilic shopping mall could be a sensory experience that appeals to our bodies and minds, as well as to our desire for material goods?
One of the most unforgettable biophilic shopping centers I’ve experienced is Parkview Green in Beijing. Unlike the usual steel-and-glass behemoths, this mall has green spaces at every turn. Your first impression upon entering is the sheer amount of natural light pouring in through the glass walls and ceilings. It creates such an atmosphere of openness and clarity that you would think you were in an art gallery instead of a shopping mall, particularly since there are also abundant indoor plants. Yet, despite my raptures, the mall was never intended to be biophilic. Rather, it was designed under “eco-dreaming” principles.
The architect’s aim was to create a space that is low in energy consumption and light that is effective yet pleasant.
So why shouldn’t biophilic design extend to the shopping experience? An exciting prospect of biophilic design in shopping malls is, in fact, that organic materials, and even water, can be incorporated in creative ways. Water, in particular, has such a calming and almost meditative effect on people. I remember walking through a biophilic shopping center in Singapore that had a cascading waterfall front and center in the food court. The sound of the water created a peaceful atmosphere that muffled the usual mall sounds one would associate with. The waterfall wasn’t merely a decorative piece but a functional space as well, being a gathering place for shoppers who would sit beside it relaxing and recharging between bouts of consumption.
Traditional shopping malls are often monotonous box structures designed for retail efficiency rather than for a pleasant shopping experience. Working within the confines of commercial necessity, architects have not typically considered the emotional needs of mall-goers when designing these oft-dubbed “retail prisons.” What if, instead, architects synthesized the latest knowledge of human behavior in the natural world and the therapeutic qualities of natural elements (biophilia) to design not just an okay space but a mall with the emotional and mental effect of improving wellness? I recently came across something similar in a “biophile mall” in Scandinavia that had reclaimed timber flooring and living walls in vertical gardens.
Every floor felt like an accessible, park-like stroll. You didn’t feel any chaos, just calm, and the space hardly resembled a mall with sensory-stressing, bright, flashing lights.
Here, earth tones, plants, and soft lighting create an inviting atmosphere that encourages shoppers to pause and savor their experience. It’s interesting to consider how biophilic design principles can influence the psychology of the built environment. Spaces with natural elements not only look good; they also feel good. … One of my favorite examples of this was a project I came across in Vancouver. They had designed seating areas around large, healthy indoor trees, creating mini “urban oases” for shoppers to relax. You could see how people gravitated to these spots, sitting down with their shopping bags, taking in the fresh air from nearby ventilation that integrated natural scents, and just enjoying a moment of peace.
Integrating biophilic design principles into architecture and urbanism is not only about adding “green” to the built environment; it is also about the intelligent and thoughtful combination of natural and “nature-like” elements within our spaces. These elements are primal—they resonate with our ancient instincts and are therefore easy for people to understand and relate to immediately. For example, consider the impact of natural light in our spaces. It can drastically alter the feel of an interior and, consequently, the mood and energy of the people inside. Big-box stores or enclosed shopping malls can feel pretty terrible—dark, airless, and oppressive.
But what if, instead, you found yourself wandering through a shopping center that incorporated biophilic principles? You might be in a space that included natural light from overhead, giving the interior a heft that makes an enclosed linear corridor feel open and airy.
Biophilic design in shopping malls is beautiful and enhances the retail experience, as it is about much more than mere appearances. The best designs look good and feel good as well. Imagine being in a mall and hearing the sounds of flowing water. A stream or a pond—the sort of tranquil experience you might have at a spa—could be part of your shopping journey, giving you a break from the digital distractions and sensory overload of life, like when your phone pings or when someone makes an urgent business call nearby. The Dubai Mall, for instance, has a series of fountains that, along with the carefully curated music accompanying them, are part of the Biophilic Design experience there.
The water’s sound was tranquil. It was as if one were standing beside a mountain stream, with the rhythmic bubbling and lapping of water against stone. There was something about liquid in the desert that seemed so precious, so alluring. And it wasn’t just this pool—there was a fountain in the food court above, and a waterfall feature in the main concourse of the mall. In the midst of this vast urban temple to consumerism, the Wishing Shrines spoke to some inner longing for the connectedness to nature that is part and parcel of the human experience.
Aside from the obvious wow factor, there’s something about biophilic design that just flat-out works at a psychological level.
In reality, I’ve talked with a number of mall retailers whose shops are in so-called biophilic malls—a term that refers to environments designed to connect people more closely with nature. These retailers have noticed increased foot traffic and heightened customer satisfaction. Why? Because their stores are located in these more thoughtfully designed, nature-connected environments. I haven’t conducted any formal research leading to this conclusion, but I think it’s a case of biophilia translating into happier shopping experiences. And can biophilic malls serve as a model for environmentally responsible retail design?
I stumbled across a shopping mall in Melbourne that had an actual rooftop garden where they harvested rainwater. It was a peaceful little spot where they said that most of the plants were native. And while they didn’t say so in those exact words, I got the impression that they were kind of proud of the garden because it was just one small part of a much-larger holistic approach to the design of the mall itself—an approach that considered not just the people who would be inside the building but also the planet as a whole.
That is the kind of design philosophy that I see as the future of biophilic malls.
In the decade ahead, I foresee shopping malls transforming into something akin to living ecosystems. These multifunctional spaces will cater to the needs of a mall’s human population while serving the greater purpose of enhancing the health of the environment. Picture walking into a mall where living plants grow on every surface. Everywhere you look, the air is getting cleaner; the energy is coming from solar panels and geothermal sources; and the water features are part of a larger, utterly fabulous conservation and recycling scheme. A good example of this sort of forward-thinking, “biophilic,” environment is the Jewel Changi Airport in Singapore.
The Jewel is more than a mall; it is an experience centered on nature. With the iconic Rain Vortex—an indoor waterfall—and verdant, multi-level gardens, the Jewel expresses how retail can become immersive, biophilic environments. The Rain Vortex is a cooling system, but let’s face it, it’s also a cool feature. It’s hard to tell which part of the experience is more stunning: the sound of crashing water, the sight of a downpour (or ‘vortexing,’ as an airport employee ominously put it), or the rock walls that flank the Rive Droite and Rive Gauche with their water-sculpted curves, each ‘shore’ a level of the Jewel.
An additional trend I’ve been tracking is how our cherished outdoor spaces tend to integrate with the indoor spaces of retail environments. Under the conventional model, malls have always been closed, self-contained ecosystems. But in the future, El Corte Inglés intends to go down a different path with its Spain-based shopping center, which features a full floor of open-air garden accessible from way, way too many points inside the mall for my comfort. The plants have the potential to create a strong atmosphere that connects the mall with the environment in which it exists.
This method seems trim and effective to me. It’s not merely a matter of scattering a few plants here and there; biophilic design demands thoughtful placement of nature in a space and pays attention to the composition of that natural element in a way that makes it feel coherent with a dynamic, shifting environment—one that might be better described as “retail ecology.” Such thoughtful use of natural elements allows our shopping spaces to become places of reflection.
I don’t think the future of retail is just about hawking more stuff. I think it has to be, and is beginning to be, about creating environments that amplify the human experience. That is what is happening in the biophilic shopping center—not merely a place to conduct transactions but a sense of space that enhances the experience of being alive in a world that, let’s face it, is often too fast and too disconnected. When we move through these environments, they invite us to move in ways that connect us with the natural order of things and the overturned, often fragmentary, sense of space through which we pass when we conduct our daily lives.
