So here’s the thing – I’ve been obsessing over plants and urban green spaces for like three years now, ever since I realized my tiny Chicago apartment was slowly killing my soul. But it wasn’t until I started really digging into this concept of “biophilic cities” that I understood why some places feel so much better than others, even when you can’t quite put your finger on why.
I first came across the term in some Instagram stories from an urban planning account I follow (yes, I follow urban planning accounts now, what’s happened to me?). The basic idea is that biophilic cities go way beyond just slapping some plants on buildings and calling it good. The term “biophilic” literally means “love of life,” and these cities are designed around the fact that humans are basically wired to need connections to nature to function properly.
Think about it – we spent like 99% of human history living outside, and then suddenly in the last century we’ve locked ourselves in concrete boxes and wondered why everyone’s anxious and depressed. Biophilic cities acknowledge that this isn’t working and try to design urban spaces where biophilic design principles are woven into literally everything – the architecture, infrastructure, public spaces, all of it.
The difference between traditional cities and biophilic ones is huge once you start paying attention. Most cities I’ve lived in treat nature like an afterthought. You build your concrete grid first, then you designate some leftover spaces for parks if there’s room. But biophilic cities flip that approach completely – they start with natural systems like watersheds, wind patterns, soil conditions, and then build around them. It’s like the difference between trying to squeeze a plant into whatever corner gets decent light versus actually designing your apartment layout around where your plants will be happiest.
Singapore is probably the most famous example, and honestly their approach is incredible. They have 47% canopy coverage (compared to like 15% in Chicago) and places like Gardens by the Bay where they’ve created these “Supertrees” – massive vertical gardens where actual birds build nests in the steel branches. When I saw photos of this I was like, wait, you can have technology AND nature in the same space without it feeling weird?
Oslo has these “bee highways” to support pollinators throughout the city. Copenhagen redesigned their cycling infrastructure to mimic natural flow patterns – like how water finds its path downhill – so moving around the city feels intuitive instead of forced. Melbourne is aiming for 40% canopy coverage by 2040, and Milan has actually mandated that new developments include specific ratios of green space.
What’s really cool is that biophilic cities don’t look the same everywhere because they’re supposed to respond to local ecosystems. Those vertical forest buildings that work in Milan’s climate would be a disaster in Phoenix. Singapore’s water features make sense in a tropical environment but would freeze and crack in Chicago winters. The best examples feel like they grew naturally out of their specific place rather than being imposed on it.
The mental health benefits are honestly what got me interested in this whole topic in the first place. When I was stuck in my apartment during the pandemic, getting basically no natural light and never going outside, my mental health absolutely tanked. Then I started adding plants and better lighting, and I could feel the difference in my stress levels and sleep patterns within weeks.
Turns out there’s tons of research backing this up. Even brief exposure to natural elements – like a view of trees from your window, the sound of water, or being able to touch natural materials – can measurably reduce stress hormones and improve cognitive function. It’s not just “nature is nice,” it’s actual biological responses that slow your breathing, relax your muscles, and calm your thoughts.
This is especially important when you think about who has access to these benefits. Biophilic cities aren’t just good for people’s wellbeing – they’re also good business. Research shows people will pay more to live and work in spaces with strong natural connections. Property values spike around green infrastructure projects, and companies see better employee retention in offices that prioritize natural lighting and living elements. In one study I read, residential units facing preserved trees sold for 15% more than comparable spaces.
But here’s the thing that really gets me – most cities weren’t planned with any of this in mind, so we’re basically trying to retrofit systems that were designed around cars and commerce, not human wellbeing or ecological health. I’ve seen this trying to improve my own building. Simple things like adding living walls can require extensive structural analysis because buildings weren’t originally designed to handle the weight of saturated soil.
Even getting permission to create our rooftop garden was a months-long process because no one had considered whether the roof could support planters when the building was designed in like 1920. It’s frustrating but also makes you appreciate cities that are actually planning for this stuff from the beginning.
What gives me hope is seeing different cities adapt these principles to their specific contexts and constraints. Louisville is turning abandoned lots into pocket forests. Detroit is integrating food production into public spaces. Phoenix is creating cooling corridors using native plants that barely need any water. Portland requires green roofs on buildings over a certain size. Each approach is different but they’re all working toward the same goal – cities that support both human and ecological health.
The technology keeps getting better too. Smart irrigation systems that respond to weather patterns, LED lighting that mimics natural circadian rhythms, building materials that actively clean the air. I recently read about buildings with sensors that adjust interior humidity and air circulation based on outdoor conditions, basically making the building respond to weather the way plants do. This is the kind of urban innovation that makes me excited about the future instead of just depressed about climate change.
I think about this stuff a lot when I’m up on our rooftop garden, looking out over Chicago and imagining what it could look like with more trees, better green corridors, buildings designed to support both people and wildlife. Most of the affordable housing in cities is in areas with the least access to green space – which isn’t a coincidence, it’s a result of decades of planning decisions that prioritized some neighborhoods and neglected others.
But biophilic design doesn’t have to be expensive or exclusive. Some of the most effective interventions are things like preserving existing trees instead of clear-cutting, designing walking paths that follow natural contours, using native plants that don’t need irrigation systems. It’s often cheaper to work with existing natural systems than to fight them.
Right now I’m trying to grow herbs on my kitchen counter using grow lights, which is my tiny attempt at bringing food production into urban spaces. The first round died within a week (overwatering, again), but I’m trying different varieties and better drainage. It’s not exactly revolutionary, but it’s something.
The bigger picture is about recognizing that we’re not separate from nature – we’re part of it, and our cities should reflect that reality instead of fighting it. When I see examples of biophilic cities done well, I get this feeling that we don’t have to choose between urban living and connection to the natural world. We can have both, but it requires completely rethinking how we design and build the places where most people now live.
And honestly, given the mental health crisis, climate change, and growing inequality in cities, we can’t afford not to figure this out. The future needs to be cities that are more alive, more responsive, more supportive of the complex relationships between humans, plants, animals, and the ecosystems we all depend on. Cities where everyone – regardless of income – has access to natural light, clean air, and green spaces. That’s the goal, anyway.
Robert is a retired engineer in Michigan who’s spent the past few years adapting his longtime home for accessibility and wellbeing. He writes about practical, DIY ways to make homes more comfortable and life-affirming as we age — from raised-bed gardens to better natural light.
