Neuroarchitecture, a Movement at the Forefront of Design
Neuroscientists explore our love of texture, curves and symmetry and explain how our brains respond to different spaces
Have you ever felt uneasy or, worse, trapped within a room or building? Maybe it was a long, narrow corridor without a discernible exit, or a dimly lit room with a low ceiling or an oppressive feel. Conversely, have you ever felt a surge of awe and wonder when looking at or walking through a building? If you’ve visited any ancient architecture, be it Rome’s Pantheon or Cambodia’s Angkor Wat, chances are you know the feeling well.
Ancient builders and architects instinctively understood what lies at the heart of neuroarchitecture, even if they lacked a word for it or didn’t have the tools to measure it. Our reactions to the built environment date back to our earliest beginnings; what’s new is our ability to measure how and begin to understand why we react the way we do. This is where neuroarchitecture comes in.
What Is Neuroarchitecture?
Neuroarchitecture stands at the crossroads of two very different disciplines: neuroscience and architecture. Using our growing knowledge of how our brains work, it aims to account for our responses to the built environment.
“What’s distinct about neuroarchitecture is that we’re now approaching a time when our understanding of brain function has progressed to the point where we can start to say sensible things about its relationship with architecture and design,” says Colin Ellard, an author and professor of cognitive neuroscience at the University of Waterloo in Canada who measures how our brains and bodies respond to spaces and places.
Neuroarchitecture stands at the crossroads of two very different disciplines: neuroscience and architecture. Using our growing knowledge of how our brains work, it aims to account for our responses to the built environment.
“What’s distinct about neuroarchitecture is that we’re now approaching a time when our understanding of brain function has progressed to the point where we can start to say sensible things about its relationship with architecture and design,” says Colin Ellard, an author and professor of cognitive neuroscience at the University of Waterloo in Canada who measures how our brains and bodies respond to spaces and places.
What’s All the Hype About?
Most movements and “isms” in architecture and design have been informed by an aesthetic style or the philosophy that drives it. Neuroarchitecture, on the other hand, is less about architecture and more about people.
“One of the really exciting things about this science is that we now have an incredibly strong set of tools that we can use to measure physiological responses to place,” Ellard says.
Most movements and “isms” in architecture and design have been informed by an aesthetic style or the philosophy that drives it. Neuroarchitecture, on the other hand, is less about architecture and more about people.
“One of the really exciting things about this science is that we now have an incredibly strong set of tools that we can use to measure physiological responses to place,” Ellard says.
How Are Our Responses to Buildings Measured?
Along with other neuroscientists, Ellard conducts studies in virtual reality settings and in real spaces, measuring people’s physiological responses. “The advantage of VR is that we can build any kind of model that we want, but the disadvantage is that no matter how good the rendering might be, people know that it’s not real, and I suspect that their responses are just pale reflections of how they respond to real places,” he says.
Along with other neuroscientists, Ellard conducts studies in virtual reality settings and in real spaces, measuring people’s physiological responses. “The advantage of VR is that we can build any kind of model that we want, but the disadvantage is that no matter how good the rendering might be, people know that it’s not real, and I suspect that their responses are just pale reflections of how they respond to real places,” he says.
“But in both kinds of settings, we rely on a set of traditional psychological tools — that is, we ask lots of questions and administer many different kinds of tests — and on small, body-worn sensors that measure heart rate, body temperature and something called skin conductance, which is just a measure of sweat glands and tells us about arousal,” Ellard says.
“In some studies we also measure brain waves (using simple visors that can even be worn on the street) and eye movements (using glasses that contain a small camera that watches your pupils).”
“In some studies we also measure brain waves (using simple visors that can even be worn on the street) and eye movements (using glasses that contain a small camera that watches your pupils).”
How Do Our Brains and Bodies React?
Special cells found in the hippocampal region of the brain are tuned in to geometry and how spaces are organized. Whenever we enter a room, home or any other environment, these cells are busy navigating and storing spatial information in the form of cognitive “maps.”
As an experiment, tune in to a memory of how it felt to be in a space where you were uncomfortable and wanted to leave. Did your heart pump faster, your breathing quicken? That’s the hypothalamus telling your adrenals to release adrenaline and cortisol, the “stress” hormones.
Special cells found in the hippocampal region of the brain are tuned in to geometry and how spaces are organized. Whenever we enter a room, home or any other environment, these cells are busy navigating and storing spatial information in the form of cognitive “maps.”
As an experiment, tune in to a memory of how it felt to be in a space where you were uncomfortable and wanted to leave. Did your heart pump faster, your breathing quicken? That’s the hypothalamus telling your adrenals to release adrenaline and cortisol, the “stress” hormones.
Were you edgy, alert? You can thank these stress hormones for enriching your blood with oxygen by quickening your breathing. Did you feel skittish or ready to burst into action? That was your blood vessels constricting to divert this oxygen-rich blood to your muscles, which would have tensed in preparation to ward off the perceived threat (in this case, to propel you out of the room or building as quickly as possible).
Our physiological state has a huge impact on our health, so considering that many people spend most of their time indoors, “healthy” homes, workplaces and buildings are paramount to our well-being.
Our physiological state has a huge impact on our health, so considering that many people spend most of their time indoors, “healthy” homes, workplaces and buildings are paramount to our well-being.
But People Respond to Design Individually, Right?
Correct. There is no universal reaction to a singular space, and neuroscientists take this into account. To complicate matters, our initial reaction to a space is often different than our reactions after that space becomes familiar. Add to this our experiences within these spaces and our reactions are affected even more — for example, your brain will respond very differently to the same room if you were hired in it versus fired in it. Ellard also suspects that demographics — such as age, cultural background and possibly gender — might affect our preferences.
Correct. There is no universal reaction to a singular space, and neuroscientists take this into account. To complicate matters, our initial reaction to a space is often different than our reactions after that space becomes familiar. Add to this our experiences within these spaces and our reactions are affected even more — for example, your brain will respond very differently to the same room if you were hired in it versus fired in it. Ellard also suspects that demographics — such as age, cultural background and possibly gender — might affect our preferences.
“We’ve seen how one’s level of physiological arousal varies as one moves from room to room,” Ellard says. “Walk into an impressive, large, open space and your level of arousal will generally increase. But that’s an initial response to a space you’ve never seen before. What’s probably much more important, and about which we know much less, is how the design of a home might influence you over the months and years of your life. That’s a much more complex and nuanced question and harder to get at with our probes and our VR models.”
What Are We Unconsciously Seeking in a Home?
Not everything on our wish list for the perfect home springs from biology, but neuroarchitecture can tell us something about those elements that do. “Essentially, when we look at how humans respond to built spaces, we are really looking at a very basic biological problem called ‘habitat selection,’ ” Ellard says.
“In the further reaches of our evolutionary history, the problems we’d want to overcome would be much the same as those of a fox finding a good spot for a burrow or a bird looking for a good location for a nest. What’s the spot that is going to maximize our resources and minimize the likelihood that we’ll become prey? Modern humans, and happily so, most often don’t have to think explicitly about those problems as much anymore, but those kinds of factors still exert pressure on our preferences.”
Not everything on our wish list for the perfect home springs from biology, but neuroarchitecture can tell us something about those elements that do. “Essentially, when we look at how humans respond to built spaces, we are really looking at a very basic biological problem called ‘habitat selection,’ ” Ellard says.
“In the further reaches of our evolutionary history, the problems we’d want to overcome would be much the same as those of a fox finding a good spot for a burrow or a bird looking for a good location for a nest. What’s the spot that is going to maximize our resources and minimize the likelihood that we’ll become prey? Modern humans, and happily so, most often don’t have to think explicitly about those problems as much anymore, but those kinds of factors still exert pressure on our preferences.”
What Do People Find Pleasing in Experiments?
Because personal preferences play an undeniable part, Ellard cautions against the idea of a one-size-fits-all approach; instead, he focuses on common themes.
“We prefer locations in a space where we experience both high refuge (protection of some kind) and high prospect (the ability to sense our surroundings, to know what’s going on, to have vistas),” he says. “Even something like the perennial popularity of a wingback chair might be related to this. In home settings, small alcoves set into larger spaces are often the places that people gravitate towards.”
Because personal preferences play an undeniable part, Ellard cautions against the idea of a one-size-fits-all approach; instead, he focuses on common themes.
“We prefer locations in a space where we experience both high refuge (protection of some kind) and high prospect (the ability to sense our surroundings, to know what’s going on, to have vistas),” he says. “Even something like the perennial popularity of a wingback chair might be related to this. In home settings, small alcoves set into larger spaces are often the places that people gravitate towards.”
Ellard also highlights the importance of being able to inhabit different types of spaces within our homes.
“As we’ve shown in some of our work in virtual reality, people might like a grand, open space when they’re socializing but a small, enclosed space when they’re dealing with a problem or with difficult emotions,” he says.
Ellard’s research has also shown that we’re strongly affected by building facades. “We have discovered that symmetric facades cause participants to indicate higher levels of pleasure and attraction,” he says.
“As we’ve shown in some of our work in virtual reality, people might like a grand, open space when they’re socializing but a small, enclosed space when they’re dealing with a problem or with difficult emotions,” he says.
Ellard’s research has also shown that we’re strongly affected by building facades. “We have discovered that symmetric facades cause participants to indicate higher levels of pleasure and attraction,” he says.
Ellard has also shown that we gravitate toward facades that are complex, interesting or textured and shrink away from ones that are plain, monotonous or unvaried. In fact, when his students walked past a long, dark glass storefront in one of his experiments in Lower Manhattan, their moods and arousal decreased while their pace increased in an unconscious effort to get past the store.
“I think it’s probably because of our craving for information,” Ellard says. “For human beings, information is critical to survival and complexity signals information. I think it may be as simple as that.”
“I think it’s probably because of our craving for information,” Ellard says. “For human beings, information is critical to survival and complexity signals information. I think it may be as simple as that.”
Ellard believes his findings on textured building facades can also be applied to our interiors. “In fact, we’ve studied this quite comprehensively in virtual reality settings and we do find similar results to those for the exteriors in fieldwork,” he says. If you’ve never found minimalism appealing, this could be one reason why.
Ellard isn’t alone in his discoveries about neuroarchitecture. Roger Ulrich, a professor of architecture in Sweden, found that hospital patients with views of nature were discharged earlier than those surrounded by walls.
Scientists at the Salk Institute in San Diego have collaborated with architects to explore how different types of light in buildings — blue-based morning light versus red-based afternoon light versus artificial light — affects us cognitively.
And Oshin Vartanian, a professor of psychology in Canada, has observed that we respond positively to curvature in architecture.
“At a very simple level, it may just be that curved surfaces (compared, say, to jagged ones) are less likely to harm us on contact — again suggesting an ancient adaptive origin for these preferences — but I think there’s more to it than that,” Ellard says.
Scientists at the Salk Institute in San Diego have collaborated with architects to explore how different types of light in buildings — blue-based morning light versus red-based afternoon light versus artificial light — affects us cognitively.
And Oshin Vartanian, a professor of psychology in Canada, has observed that we respond positively to curvature in architecture.
“At a very simple level, it may just be that curved surfaces (compared, say, to jagged ones) are less likely to harm us on contact — again suggesting an ancient adaptive origin for these preferences — but I think there’s more to it than that,” Ellard says.
“We also like curved walkways, for example, possibly because they generate something that environmental psychologists call ‘mystery’ — the idea is that we like to be in situations of what you might call ‘unveiling.’ We like settings where we are lured inward by the promise of further information. Again, information-seeking is a key here,” Ellard says.
“One of the most robust findings in environmental psychology has to do with the profound impact of nature settings on psychology, physiology and health. Something as modest as an indoor plant or even a picture of plants can exert an effect.”
That’s perhaps no surprise when you consider that before buildings, human beings lived in nature, where our primitive instincts were first honed.
“One of the most robust findings in environmental psychology has to do with the profound impact of nature settings on psychology, physiology and health. Something as modest as an indoor plant or even a picture of plants can exert an effect.”
That’s perhaps no surprise when you consider that before buildings, human beings lived in nature, where our primitive instincts were first honed.
What Do Architects Think?
Ellard says architects’ responses to neuroarchitecture have been “wildly mixed” since the discipline began gaining momentum a decade ago. “With the formation of organizations like the Academy of Neuroscience for Architecture — which is a group of scientists and architects who hold a biennial meeting to communicate findings and advance the field — I think that most architects have at least a passing familiarity with the notion that we might use principles from neuroscience to advance design,” he says.
Ellard says architects’ responses to neuroarchitecture have been “wildly mixed” since the discipline began gaining momentum a decade ago. “With the formation of organizations like the Academy of Neuroscience for Architecture — which is a group of scientists and architects who hold a biennial meeting to communicate findings and advance the field — I think that most architects have at least a passing familiarity with the notion that we might use principles from neuroscience to advance design,” he says.
“There are many who are quite excited about the possibilities for a field that is just now beginning to define itself,” Ellard says. “I think there are others, and I’ve certainly heard from and met a few of them, who are much more skeptical — sometimes perhaps even a bit worried that this movement might represent a step backward into a reductionist, perhaps even Corbusian view of architecture that has previously been tried and found wanting.”
How Can I Approach Neuroarchitecture at Home?
According to Ellard, the key to applying neuroarchitecture principles at home lies in understanding yourself and how your proposed design will impact the way you feel.
“Your personality will, to some extent, dictate your preferences,” he says. “For example, if you’re a strong introvert, you’re probably not going to be happy in a large, open-plan environment.”
Ellard encourages people to immerse themselves in the designs they’re looking to reproduce and to be aware of how they feel in these spaces.
According to Ellard, the key to applying neuroarchitecture principles at home lies in understanding yourself and how your proposed design will impact the way you feel.
“Your personality will, to some extent, dictate your preferences,” he says. “For example, if you’re a strong introvert, you’re probably not going to be happy in a large, open-plan environment.”
Ellard encourages people to immerse themselves in the designs they’re looking to reproduce and to be aware of how they feel in these spaces.
“And if you’re looking for a home, think about your past experiences with residential spaces carefully to get clues as to what might work for you,” Ellard says.
“I can apply my sensors to tell me whether your brain waves suggest that you’re relaxed and happy, whether your skin conductance response suggests that you’re aroused or bored, but human beings are generally fairly good at being able to sense that about themselves. It takes lots of patient and mindful attention to your feelings, and some trust in yourself.”
“I can apply my sensors to tell me whether your brain waves suggest that you’re relaxed and happy, whether your skin conductance response suggests that you’re aroused or bored, but human beings are generally fairly good at being able to sense that about themselves. It takes lots of patient and mindful attention to your feelings, and some trust in yourself.”