As we move into 2024, biophilic design is not just about how we construct spaces; it’s also about how we engage with the environments we occupy. Biophilic design is bringing nature into our built surroundings, but it’s doing so much more than that. Its applications have become more intentional, thoughtful, and powerful. What I’m especially excited about, though, is that the pathway biophilic design is on as we head into 2024 is toward achieving something far deeper, which is really a blend of aesthetics and biophilic engineering that allows for (and even encourages) the profound manifestations of health, sustainability, and even technology within a built context.
I have always been attracted to places that are vibrant with life, where the natural world is part of the very essence of the design. I love biophilic design because it feels so intimate. It’s about much more than just pulchritudinous places. It’s about environments that are good for us; that are, on some level, tailor-fit for our presence within them; environments that—and here’s the real kicker—biophilic design is meant to construct, whether or not designers work on the level of conscious, deliberate intention—offer us moments of connection with nature.
When you enter a biophilic space in 2024, it’s impossible not to engage with all the sensory channels. Yes, there are the plants—immensely more than you’d find in typical biophilic design today. They’re truly what’s next in biophilic design. Unlike in conventional indoor gardens, this is not about having a handful of large, impressive plants spaced around the room. The plants here are small, and there are lots of them. The idea is to create a thigmotropic—”touch-growing”—environment, where plants are crawling all over everything and you’re always almost touching them.
Biophilic Design in 2024: Moving Toward Holistic Life
One of the most thrilling developments in biophilic design this year is the increasing acknowledgment that the field encompasses much more than adorning spaces with plants. It is becoming clear that biophilic design aspires to an even loftier goal: It aims to create true ecosystems in our homes, offices, and public places—ecosystems that are conducive to our mental and physical well-being. This burgeoning understanding has led to a shift in biophilic design toward something even more impressive: designs that incorporate not just singular systems like plants but also complex natural systems within our built environment.
I recently had the chance to tour a newly opened office building that had taken biophilic design principles in a completely different direction than what I had seen before. Its lobby featured a vertical forest—serving not just as a beautiful backdrop for the entrance, but as a key component for real air filtration and acoustic control. The designers had not stopped at the usual green walls, but were integrating a rainwater harvesting system that fed the plants, and that also provided greywater for the restrooms. Standing there, bathed in natural light, it felt more like a waystation on a forest hike than an office building. All of which made me feel deeply engaged and not in an “I’m going to be good to the environment” kind of way, but in a “this is what living architecture can feel like” way.
Biophilic design in 2024 takes things a step further than simply crafting appearances that are reminiscent of nature. Today’s top pros are going for the gusto and creating environments that deliver a full sensory experience. Sound is one area where some of these projects have taken real liberties, and one we’re excited to explore in this chapter. It might seem odd to think about integrating something as basic to nature as sound, especially since so many of us might have indoor spaces designed to minimize sounds from the outside world. But as the team behind this book has explored, using sound as part of a space’s design can have profound effects on nearly all of our vital functions and faculties, not to mention our sense of well-being.
Biophilic design is breaking out of the luxury design category, and I think that’s really exciting. More and more, people are understanding that you don’t have to spend a ton of money to bring nature into your world. In fact, many of the most powerful biophilic moments are totally free and very easy to achieve—like placing a plant somewhere that makes it really visible and accessible, framing a view with your window, or using a natural material. That’s very doable. And those “cheap” moments can really work if you’re also considering the natural light and sound variables, as well as the beauty and aesthetics of your space.
Biophilic Design Trends to Keep an Eye on in 2024
One of the most captivating trends I’ve observed this year is how the fusion of technology and nature amplifies the biophilic experience. Increasingly, I’m seeing smart homes outfitted with biophilic elements that respond to their environment. Our homes are now more than ever potential partners in Health, necessary to the life and rhythms of our experience. Think for instance of our sense of hearing; the average person’s aural experience is 24/7.
One of my current favorites is the burgeoning use of adaptive biophilic technologies. Picture a living wall that knows when it needs more water or sunlight, thanks to integrated sensors. These systems are becoming more common, allowing biophilic spaces to be more self-sustaining. I came across a residential project where the entire facade of the building was covered in greenery that adjusted to weather conditions—closing the shutters on hot days to reduce heat, and opening them during rain to gather moisture. It was as if the building—and its architecture—were part of the ecosystem, rather than something imposed on it.
Another trend that is gaining traction in 2024 is biophilic design being used in urban planning. Not only are city blocks being reimagined with this design principle, but it is also being seen in whole city districts. These biophilic districts take not only nature into consideration but also humanity. They aren’t just pretty places; they fulfill their urban role as sustainable, hierarchical, and effective as well as profoundly enjoyable. These districts are planned to be biophilic, which I think is a pretty cool word. It means that they serve humanity while also being profoundly enjoyable. They invite a bird, bee, butterfly, or other wildlife into the area.
I recently had the pleasure of visiting one such district, and it felt like stepping into a green oasis in the middle of the city. Strolling along tree-lined streets, witnessing flourishing rooftop gardens, and hearing the bird songs that were instead of the serenade of the city’s automobiles as I walked into this district were all reminders of the powerful effect biophilic design can have on the urban experience. What struck me most was the total integration (not just visual) of nature and the built environment. The design was not an add-on; it was integral to the way this entire district functioned.
Biophilic Design in Daily Life: My Personal Reflections
What fulfills me most about the ascent of biophilic design in 2024 is its influence upon the daily lives of people—something that extends far beyond the realm of large architectural endeavors. Individuals—more than ever—are looking for ways to weave nature into the very fabric of their homes and workspaces. And whether they realize it or not, the shift has been nothing short of tectonic. At its core, biophilic design rests on a simple premise: Nature should be as much a part of human life as it is a part of the human genome.
Consider, as an example, the move toward the use of organic materials in domestic architecture. For whatever reason, I’ve always been drawn to wood, particularly in its unrefined state. Left virtually untouched, wood is a marvel of nature’s art, and every plank, post, or beam is unique. Therefore, building with it almost guarantees a house that will never be exactly replicated—an architecture of individuality. And yet even what we might call “defects” in wood, such as knots, which also render it less structurally sound, make it an even more interesting natural material, one that plays with light and shadow and offers beautiful textures and patterns.
Biophilic design owes its dividends to plants, but what’s increasingly interesting in 2024 is awareness regarding our plant choices. While many early adopters of biophilic design fell back on the most trend-driven, domesticated, and often unsustainable plant choices, the conversation has matured. Now, a growing number of folks consider using native—more sustainable, beneficial, and eco-friendly—species a hallmark of their biophilic spaces. I, too, have embraced this plant design evolution. I look at it as a reward for being part of the still young biophilic movement. One of my first acts: purchasing a more diverse selection of native flora for my home gardens.
Another design element to which I have become particularly attracted in recent years is water. Water is an element found in both small and large forms, indoors and out. I have visited places that have used water in such thoughtful and immersive ways that it has magically calmed me as I experience their spaces. I remember a spa where water became the main design motif. You entered the spa and immediately heard the sound of water as small streams welcomed you into the space. Treatments were given in rooms alongside the sound of gently falling water. Can design become a form of therapy? I don’t know, but this place almost made me feel like I was in a kind of engineered zen state. Since then, I have tried to include water features in some of my design projects. Hearing the sound of water somehow makes people calm down and relax. Even a small element can create a pleasant auditory experience in a space.
Biophilic Design: Its Community and Connection Role
Over the years, I’ve come to understand that biophilic design reaches far beyond personal health benefits. It’s about building connections with the broader community. I know firsthand how these designs pull people into public spaces, making them momentarily pause and attend to their immediate environment—and sometimes even to other human beings sharing that same environment. One potent instance of all this is the rise of community gardens in urban areas.
I have been fond of community gardens for the longest time. But in 2024, they have morphed into something even more relevant—that is, spaces that might be better referred to as biophilic community gardens. The term “biophilia,” which literally means “love of life,” was popularized by the Harvard naturalist E.O. Wilson in his 1984 book of the same name. In it, Wilson describes how humans have an innate tendency to seek and develop deep connections with nature and living things. Urban biophilic gardens are not only places to grow food and vegetables; they’re places where communities can reconnect with nature and each other.
Individuals of all ages would assemble to undertake the interrelated activities of planting, attending to that which had been planted, and reaping that which had been sown. Generations mingled and conversed while doing these activities—and the conversations were as nourishing as the food produced. I remember one hot afternoon. I had been at the garden for a while, tending to my patch and wondering if I might be able to use this kind of space for detainment. I had no idea what I was doing out in the heat, but I stopped long enough to watch some kids dig for the very first time.
The profound connection we humans have to the natural world is finally making its way into architectural and interior design. This is the essence of biophilia: a love of life that centers adaptive, sensible, and often beautiful designs around our primal need to connect with nature. You can hit the refresh button on your neuroscience. Biophilia is the new ecstasy in the design world. But instead of making it rain with a deluge of consultants and big fees (and beautiful drawings, of course), we ought to try biophilia on for size in real spaces that people actually use. That way, we can understand the effects of natural elements and the removal of all-natural substitutes or their synthetic near-equivalents can have on our brains, our communities, and our modern workspaces.
Anticipating the Future: How Biophilic Design Will Matter in 2024 and Subsequent Years
When I consider what lies ahead, I see biophilic design not merely as a trend but as something fundamentally concrete in the spaces we inhabit, no matter the function. Biophilic design will grow in relevance to the kind of sustainable and resilient spaces we want to create for 2024 and beyond. This movement isn’t satisfied with just coexisting with nature; it takes methods of actively supporting and strengthening ecological systems as spaces are being created.
I really see potential in something that hasn’t grabbed a lot of attention yet: the integration of biophilic design with urban agriculture. I’m fascinated by the historical interest in city farming and the potential for it to not just solve food deserts but also integrate mental and physical health components into the architecture of the built environment, thanks to biophilic design. I believe wholeheartedly that as we move toward a more urbanized future, growing food in cities is one of the best opportunities we have to expand the definition of “nature” in our daily lives and reintroduce the restorative qualities of green space into the lives of city dwellers.
What excites me the most about biophilic design as we approach 2024 is how it’s developing in tandem with the needs of inhabitants and the environment. Biophilia doesn’t just make nature available as a premium design feature; it now makes nature frontline and fully involved in and with the lives of its inhabitants. Shifting our perspective in this way isn’t just about having pretty places to live and work. It’s about having places that purposefully enable our lives, foster our sense of community, and help us realize the unfathomable beauty of (as well as our unlimited potential in) the natural world.
As I further delve into and add to the field of biophilic design, I am often struck by how potent such spaces can be. It’s not just a biophilic design brings the kind of nature we can experience—such as the sounds of running water or the sight of a well-placed cay in nearly any line of sight—that brings us into a basic, visceral connection to nature. It’s also that, within the very essence of the biophilic design, there lies an opportunity to make virtually any place on our planet better for us in nearly countless ways.
By 2024, biophilic design has developed into something more than an aesthetic ideation—it has become a vital construct for developing and creating sustainable, health-promoting spaces, leading to an environment filled with a more profound relationship between humanity and nature. Biophilic designs have ramifications reaching far beyond just the immediate space someone occupies, calling forth ecological relationships that have urban planning, community service, and “smart growth” in mind. There is a strong aesthetic element to biophilic design that cannot be ignored; after all, who would want to live in a space that looks like something out of a dystopian novel?
