Biophilic design aims to reconnect humans with nature, countering urban stress. However, clothing creates barriers that hinder sensory interaction with the environment, resulting in sensory dissonance. Designing Aletheic Spaces can foster deeper connections to nature, emphasizing authenticity and sensory engagement for overall well-being.
Note: This post explores the psychological and wellbeing benefits of naturism within biophilic environments. It contains illustrations depicting nudity and the human form.
Pushing the envelope of biophilic design
The architecture and design world is obsessed with biophilic design. It is a multi-million-pound architectural principle that acknowledges our innate, evolutionary need for nature.
Organizations frequently strive to get a ‘Well Building’ certification by adding elements of biophilic design to the built environment. These are powerful interventions, and can make buildings less uncomfortable by creating a more coherent sensory experience. However, the pervasive sense of urban stress suggests this is only a partial antidote.
Biophilic design is supposed to improve wellbeing in the built environment. Its aim is to soothe our anxious, urban minds. However, our deepest connection to the natural world is still blocked by a simple, social barrier.
Skin: our largest sense organ
One way in which I believe we are failing to achieve true sensory coherence is because we are ignoring a fundamental sensory organ of human connection: the skin.
Biophilic design tries to re-establish harmony, but clothing acts as a permanent, often unnecessary, barrier. It insulates us, muffling the vital signals of the environment – the exact feel of the air as it moves, the subtle shift in temperature as the sun ducks behind a cloud and the gradual changes in humidity that affect whether (and how much) we perspire.
Our brain cannot relax into nature whilst it is making an effort to understand it, and that is because we are dulling our senses.
Clothing covering the skin is like smearing Vaseline on your spectacles
Our bodies evolved naked on the open savannah, where all of our senses worked in harmony. The vista of the landscape, the rustle of the wind, and the feeling of warmth or coolness on our skin all delivered a single, coherent message to the brain: you are safe.
But in the built environment of today – with its hard surfaces, artificial climates, and constant noise – our senses are in a perpetual state of low-grade conflict, or sensory dissonance.
The natural conclusion to biophilic living, and the simplest way to achieve total sensory immersion, is to engage with nature as we evolved: unclothed.
The interior life of the body
The practice of naturism is not about challenging social mores; it is about hacking into a deeper pathway to wellbeing.
In a hyper-visual, social-media saturated culture, we are trained to treat our bodies as objects to be judged, groomed, and displayed. This constant self-objectification is mentally exhausting and fuels anxiety. It separates us from our physical selves, turning the body into a source of stress rather than a reliable instrument.
Nudity directly confronts this by shifting our focus inwards. When you are fully exposed to the elements, your body’s self-regulation mechanisms become immediately apparent. You become acutely aware of your goosebumps, the tingle of a breeze, the hairs on your arms standing upright or the warmth spreading across your back.
Naturism significantly enhances Interoceptive Awareness (IA) – the ability to accurately sense and interpret signals from within the body, such as one’s heartbeat, tension, or gut feelings. There are multiple studies that support this.
Interoceptive Awareness
Research has shown that individuals who regularly engage in naturism have higher Interoceptive Awareness. This matters profoundly because high Interoceptive Awareness seems to be negatively correlated with self-objectification. When you learn to trust your body’s internal signals, you stop seeing it as an external image and start seeing it as a competent, reliable system.
This is the psychological leap: the body moves from being a passively viewed object (even from its owner’s perspective) to an actively trusted subject, creating an embodied earth kinship that is profoundly grounding. Naturism is a simple, non-consumerist way of combatting the pervasive body image anxiety plaguing much of the Western world.
Designing for unconcealedness
If this is the most direct route to genuine human-nature connection, how do we translate it into the built environment?
We must begin designing for authenticity. We need to move past the idea of biophilic design as merely a way to increase productivity and start seeing it as a genuinely useful tool for wellbeing.
This means creating an Aletheic Space, a concept drawn from the Greek word meaning ‘unconcealedness’ or ‘truth’. An Aletheic Space is an environment – natural or constructed – that offers safety and privacy. It allows the occupant to experience the profound vulnerability – and subsequent liberation – of being totally uncovered and authentic.
This is not a space for public display, but a deeply private retreat.
For an architect or an interior designer, it demands a focus on:
Boundary management
Eliminating any sightlines or sound leaks that might trigger social anxiety, whilst still allowing a complete exposure to, an immersion in, the environment. This could, and should, include the use of plants to create natural barriers that allow light and breezes to penetrate into the space.
Sensory richness
Using materials (stone, rough timber, natural fibre, moss, bark, cork, etc.) that provide varied, non-jarring tactile feedback to the skin.
Microclimates
Designing sheltered courtyards or enclosed garden rooms that allow for comfortable, full-body exposure to air, light, and subtle temperature shifts, even if the weather is against us.
The ultimate aim of biophilic design is human flourishing.
We are adept at creating visual connections, but until we design environments that invite our largest organ into the conversation, we will only ever be scratching the surface of our restorative potential. It is time for us to stop hiding from nature, and perhaps, stop hiding from ourselves.
If you would like to discuss how to make biophilic design truly immersive or would like some ideas about the practical ways to create aletheic spaces, please get in touch.
Wellbeing stems from comfort, defined as feeling secure both physically and psychologically. Radical Comfort emphasizes a fundamental approach to design, prioritizing user needs over superficial aesthetics. It integrates physical, psychological, and environmental elements, aiming for spaces that foster true ease through biophilic elements and understanding human sensory experiences.
Note: This post explores the psychological and wellbeing benefits of naturism within biophilic environments. It contains illustrations depicting nudity and the human form.
Wellbeing is a direct result of comfort. When you are comfortable, you have greater satisfaction with your life (and work) and you are better able to achieve your goals. So, what is comfort? And, why radical comfort?
Comfort is about feeling at ease. It means that the physical environment is telling your senses that you are safe. It means reducing confused and contradictory inputs and it is very much about our psychological state.
Wellbeing is not just about design
Research on workplace wellbeing has consistently shown that the single biggest influence on wellbeing isn’t the design of the environment, but the culture of the organization. No amount of state-of-the-art biophilic design will cancel the effects of toxic management styles, lack of agency and extreme monitoring of every keystroke or toilet break.
The same applies in society. Authoritarian regimes seem quite keen to develop fabulous biophilic environments. Whilst I would never want to see those environments removed, they will never lead to true comfort when press freedom is restricted, political discussion is regarded as a threat to the state and human rights are abused. There is a whiff of ‘Bread and Circuses‘ about such installations.
So, what does ‘Radical Comfort’ mean?
The word ‘Radical’ is often thought of as being related to being revolutionary or promising major change, which it is. It also has an older meaning: of, belonging to, or from a root or roots; fundamental to or inherent in the natural processes of life.
Radical Comfort is a philosophy that seeks to satisfy human comfort at its root – at its fundamental, and unmediated level. It is the uncompromising pursuit of a state of physical, psychological, and environmental ease.
Radical Comfort moves beyond standard ideas of biophilic design by acknowledging that the most fundamental connection to nature and a sense of belonging in nature occurs when the individual is free from artifice, pretence and psychological barriers, which enable to them encounter their true selves.
Radical Comfort and design
Most design only achieves surface comfort, but Radical Comfort is a more holistic and evidence-based way of doing things. It could lead to spaces where the environment is perfectly tuned to the users’ needs. This evidence-based approach actually asks questions about what the user needs rather than simply assuming and imposing.
This approach to biophilic design is founded on the belief that human wellbeing is inseparable from our biological reality. It is a design language that honours the body as a natural component of the ecosystem, not an alien presence requiring separation and concealment.
Our search for aletheia (truth / unconcealment) drives the pursuit of Radical Comfort: the authentic truth of human wellbeing.
Physical Radical Comfort
This is design for the needs of the highly sensitive, unencumbered body. Specifically, thermal regulation, tactile sensation, acoustics and movement.
When our senses are free to work together, we are able to understand our environment with minimal mental effort. This reduces stress, frees up mental capacity and increases comfort. Our senses most effective at telling us the truth about our environment when they are unblocked and .
The touch points
By designing for the comfort of our largest sense organ, the skin, we need to reject materials that feel artificially cold, rough or sticky to bare skin. High quality, sustainably-sourced natural materials are worth investing in.
Textures make a big difference too. Wood, cork and moss not only offer greater visual interest, but the variety of different textures add to the tactile interest too.
Furniture should be designed without pressure points, harsh seams, or restrictive forms. The design should accommodate the fluid movement of the unburdened body.
We must also consider our feet
They are in near constant contact with the environment. When you think about it, our feet are remarkable parts of the body. We are naturally unstable structures – tall and top heavy – and by rights we should be constantly falling over. Our centre of gravity is about two thirds of the way up from the ground, yet our feet have a total area in contact with the ground of about only four hundred square centimetres (about two-thirds the area of a sheet of A4 paper). The nerve endings in our feet and the fine control of the muscles in our feet and legs work constantly to stop us crashing to the floor.
This means that we should allow our feet to experience the full properties of the surface. Fine changes to textures and warmth can be excellent, yet subtle, signposts to help us navigate a space more easily.
Invisible and untouchable elements: thermal and acoustic comfort
The unclad human form is highly sensitive to temperature fluctuation. A Radical Comfort space should allow, as far as is possible, as much individual control of heating, cooling and air flow. This is relatively easy in the home, but somewhat more difficult in an office or other commercial space. Having said that, some office furniture manufacturers have started to incorporate adjustable heating and cooling elements in desk tops that provide warmth around the wrists – an especially sensitive area that can help regulate body temperature.
I mentioned in a previous post about how getting into a state of flow can make the work day seem easier. Distractions can break that flow state, and it can take a long time to get back into it. One of the most frequent and annoying distractions is noise. Radical Comfort requires quiet (not necessarily silence) and the absence of distracting sound.
This can be achieved with a number of biophilic elements: plants and moss are good at absorbing and diffracting noise, and synthetic soundscapes that produce subtle non-rhythmic sounds, reminiscent of a breeze or waterfall, or even the lapping of waves on a stony beach have been demonstrated to be very effective at masking distracting noise.
Light and shadows
Radical Comfort takes into account our natural biorhythms and how we respond to light throughout the day. In our wild, ancestral state, humans evolved to respond to changes in light intensity and quality throughout the day. As the light changed, so various hormones were produced or supressed affecting our mood, alertness, appetite and sleeping patterns.
Fortunately, biodynamic lighting is available to replicate these natural patterns. In the home, smart lighting can be programmed to approximate the changes during the day, but in commercial buildings, really sophisticated systems can be deployed to great effect. Biodynamic lighting is even used in some aircraft to reduce the impacts of jet lag.
As well as the quality of light, we should think about how the light plays around a space – the shadows cast, the direction it comes from, glare produced and the interaction with paint colours. This requires careful consideration of wall finishes, ceiling heights, and reflective surfaces – even the use of mirrors to move light around a space to borrow views from the outside and bring them in.
We can even consider the Golden Hour effect in the context of an aletheic environment. The space could be designed to maximize soft, warm light during the hours of rest and relaxation. Low light levels can enhance relaxation and the feeling of wellbeing as well as reducing self-consciousness through shade and deeper shadows – a key step toward psychological Radical Comfort.
Psychological Radical Comfort
Comfort is not just physical, it is psychological as well. A good sensory environment is critical for our sense of safety, but we must also consider the mental environment as well.
In fact, good psychological comfort can outweigh the problems of a poor physical environment as long as there is a feeling of security and the ability to be one’s self without judgement or interference.
In design terms, a place of Radical Comfort is about creating a space where the user feels absolute security, privacy and agency. The user of the space decides who is let in, and under what conditions.
Such a space minimizes stress and the feeling of the need to perform, or to conceal, any aspect of the self.
This could mean the use of materials such as privacy glass in windows – allowing a view out, but restricting a view in – or the careful placement of screens and plants. These could be permeable to a degree to allow light and breezes in without ever fully exposing the private space.
On the other hand, places where complete trust and acceptance are found, such as in naturist venues, can be ideal spaces for being completely, authentically, uncovered without fear of judgement or objectification. The creation of new kinds of aletheic, naturist environments away from traditional settings is one that I am particularly interested in exploring.
The biophilic envelope
Radical Comfort seeks to guarantee a restorative environment by creating a seamless interaction with living systems (biophilia). This could mean designing interior and exterior spaces that are fully private and secure, creating a sense of being enveloped by nature. The space will allow for the safe experience of the liberated state, and is the key to turning a garden or room into an aletheic environment rather than just a pretty space.
Plants, water features, and textures are not merely decorative but should be used to deliver an optimized, positive sensory input. This could include using plants with pleasant scents (which is easier in a garden than indoors) and tactile qualities that invite one to touch and feel the foliage.
Plant displays can also be used to optimize the acoustic environment too. Research carried out as long ago as the 1990s showed how plants and plant displays could absorb, diffuse and refract sound. Indoors, they can be placed to reduce echoes. Outdoors, trees are especially good at absorbing noises.
Biophilic elements can be actively used to improve air quality and humidity to a therapeutic level, even exceeding standards such as the WELL building standard. Green walls, and especially the new generation of active air green wall systems, are very good at improving indoor air quality by reducing pollutants and improving humidity – something that would be especially beneficial to uncovered skin. When used well, the synergy of function and biophilic beauty can have a significant benefit.
My background in plant science and horticulture, as well as my long experience of biophilic design, allows me to focus on the use of greenery and other aspects of interior landscaping to maximize Radical Comfort. If you would like to learn more or would like some advice on a project, then please get in touch.
… or how an intersection between Greek and Danish philosophies might improve our wellbeing
In this post, I explore the interactions between Greek concept of aletheia and Danish idea of hygge as tools for enhancing wellbeing during winter, looking at how creating a cosy environment fosters introspection, authentic connections, and a deep appreciation for sensory experiences.
Note: This post explores the psychological and wellbeing benefits of naturism within biophilic environments. It contains illustrations depicting nudity and the human form.
We are past the autumn equinox and, even though the weather remains warm(ish), thoughts turn to winter.
I don’t much like winter. I miss the sunshine and it makes me feel gloomy. I do wonder whether I might experience a mild form of seasonal affective disorder.
A few years ago, the Danish concept of hygge was popularised. The idea of cosy contentment and hunkering down in a warm room with flames, blankets and subdued lighting can be comforting and a good way to get through the cold, dark months.
Aletheia, a Greek concept, is about a process of revelation. It is not about finding an unchanging truth, but rather about uncovering something that was previously hidden or obscured.
In the context of a cold, dark winter, this could mean a few different things
Uncovering inner truths
The introspective nature of winter, with its shorter days and more time spent indoors, naturally encourages quiet reflection. Hygge, with an emphasis on warmth, soft lighting, and stillness, creates the ideal physical environment for this kind of ‘un-forgetting’. If you consciously create a comfortable, safe space, you are better able to let go of distractions and consider deeper thoughts and feelings that might be buried beneath the busyness of the other seasons.
The truth of a moment
Hygge is fundamentally about being in the moment. This could be as simple as experiencing the warmth of a fire, the taste of a hot drink or the comfort of a blanket. This is a form of aletheia. The truth being uncovered is not a grand philosophical statement, but the simple, profound reality of a specific sensory experience. The cold weather outside serves as a stark contrast that highlights and uncovers the preciousness of the warmth and comfort inside.
Uncovering our nature through human connection
Hygge often involves shared experiences with friends and family. Intimate gatherings around a table or fireplace might lead to people having more open and honest conversations. In this context, aletheia is the uncovering of mutual understanding and the deepening of relationships. The shared experience of being together in a cosy, protected space can allow for a more authentic form of connection to emerge.
Aletheia, biophilia and hygge
I have a professional interest in biophilic design, so this intersection is very more compelling to explore. The choices you can make in creating a hygge-inspired space, such as the materials, the lighting, the arrangement of plants, are not just about aesthetics. They are a deliberate process of uncovering the potential for a space to be a sanctuary. The truth you are revealing is that a human-made environment can be a profound source of well-being and connection to nature, even when the natural world outside is dormant or unwelcoming.
So, where are the intersections and what do they look like?
I think very visually. I like diagrams and I often imagine and describe things as shapes and colours. So, I tried to create a Venn diagram of the relationship between aletheia, hygge and biophilia.
Introspection and self-reflection. Confronting inner thoughts, understanding one’s character, intentions.
Authenticity. Stripping away artifice, being genuine with self and others.
Clarity and insight. Gaining deeper understanding, seeing what’s essential.
Presence. Being fully aware of the current moment and its realities.
Revelation of nature’s cycles. Understanding life, dormancy, resilience.
Truth of human connection. Deepening relationships through shared vulnerability.
Biophilia (love of life and connections with nature)
Sensory coherence. Engaging all senses with natural stimuli (sight, sound, smell, touch).
Natural light and views. Maximizing natural light, connecting to external landscapes.
Natural materials and textures. Incorporating wood, stone, water features.
Plants and greenery. Indoor plants, conservatories, gardens.
Patterns and forms in nature. Fractals, organic shapes, natural rhythms.
Sense of place. Environments that evoke natural settings and processes.
Hygge (cosy contentment and wellbeing)
Warmth and comfort. Soft blankets, cushions, fires, gentle heating.
Atmosphere and ambiance. Soft, layered lighting (candles, lamps), quiet sounds.
Presence and mindfulness. Appreciating simple pleasures, being in the moment.
Social connections. Shared experiences with loved ones, community.
Safety and security. Creating a sanctuary, a protected space.
Simplicity and decluttering. Focusing on what is useful for comfort, without it being distracting.
What happens in the middle?
When you get to the middle of the Venn diagram and look at Aletheia X Biophilia X Hygge, what do we find?
Holistic wellbeing
The combination creates an environment that supports physical comfort, mental clarity, emotional authenticity, and a deep connection to the natural world.
Mindful nature immersion
By creating cosy, nature-rich meditative spaces, you can encourage deep, present-moment reflection and the uncovering of personal and universal truths.
Winter sanctuary for revelation
To get a more complete connection with nature, try and adapt spaces such as a conservatory to offer warmth, natural beauty, and a safe, freeing environment for introspection and genuine connection during the dormant winter months.
Naturism as an extension of hygge
While hygge often focuses on being cosy and wrapped up, nudity presents a compelling alternative perspective. It is a way to achieve a feeling of comfort and contentment by embracing vulnerability and freedom.
Comfort in one’s own skin
Hygge is about creating a space where you feel completely comfortable. For a naturist, this includes being comfortable in one’s own skin. A warm, comfortably-lit living room with natural textures provides the perfect environment for this. To experience a sense of comfort that is not dependent on external layers of clothing, a form of naked hygge.
Simplicity and presence
Both hygge and naturism champion simplicity. Hygge focuses on the simple pleasures of life, and naturism removes the complication and consumerism associated with fashion. This shared emphasis on simplicity makes it easier to be present in the moment and appreciate the authentic truth of an experience.
Naturism as an aletheic experience
When you are in your sanctuary you are not on show. The people you are with (if not enjoying solitude) are those that you are close to and who you choose to be with. Being naked in a biophilic, hygge space allows for the ultimate un-forgetting of societal artifice, fostering body acceptance and a direct, authentic sensory connection to a nature-inspired sanctuary.
Nudity is a powerful, practical extension of both aletheia and hygge. It is a way to achieve the desired state of comfort and wellbeing, not just a lifestyle choice.
The key connection is that naturism is fundamentally about truth and authenticity. Uncovering the body strips away the layers of clothing that can serve as both physical and social barriers.
Uncovering truth
In the context of aletheia, naturism is a profound act of truth telling. It challenges the societal norm that our bodies should be hidden, uncovering a more authentic self-image.
Truth of self
Unclothed, you confront the truth of your own body, without the adornments and artifice of fashion. This can lead to a deeper sense of self-acceptance and body positivity.
Truth of connection
In a social setting, naturism removes a major psychological barrier. Without the social cues and judgments that clothing can impose, people can interact on a more fundamental, human level. This can “uncover” a truer, more egalitarian form of human connection.
Truth of nature
I am not at all religious, nor even spiritual. However, as both a humanist and a biologist, I appreciate the organic and natural world and I am always very conscious that we are an integral part of nature, not just a bystander.
Naturism is a direct way to dissolve the boundary between the person and the natural environment. Being outside in a garden or a natural space without clothing – even for the briefest of time in winter – can create a profound sense of integration and belonging, a physical expression of biophilia. A few minutes of enveloping your body in fresh, crisp air reveals the simple truth that you are a part of nature, not separate from it.
When you combine aletheia, hygge, biophilia and naturism in your home, you are not just creating a cosy space. You are building a sanctuary that actively promotes self-acceptance, authentic connection and a deeper, more truthful relationship with both your body and the natural world.
Moving from the philosophical to the practical – how to create an aletheic hygge space in the home
The living room is the perfect place to start, as it is often the heart of the home and a space for both solitary contemplation and shared connection. Combining aletheia and hygge in a living room means creating an environment that is not just cosy, but also revealing of natural truth and human well-being.
Here are some practical ideas for your living room, broken down into key design principles:
The aletheia of light
Winter can be a time of darkness, but light is a key element of both hygge and aletheia. The truth of the outside world is found in the limited natural light, and aletheia indoors is about a conscious revelation of light in your space.
Let’s start by making the most of what natural light is available. It might be limited, so try and squeeze as much benefit out of it as possible.
Position furniture to take advantage of any natural light coming through windows and use mirrors opposite windows to reflect and amplify the light you do have. This is a subtle yet powerful biophilic principle. Even on a grey day, you are consciously acknowledging and maximizing the natural world outside.
Make use of technology. Smart lighting can be a real boon at this time of year. Intensity and colour temperature can be adjusted, and even automated, to complement the changing conditions outside and if you get it right, the connection between indoors and out can become almost seamless. This not only looks better (as the tone of the light from natural and artificial sources can be matched), but it might reduce eye strain too.
Placing lamps behind objects, such as furniture, so that it washes the wall or ceiling with light rather than being directed into the room can also be calming and is also more naturalistic.
Next, especially in the evenings, consider layered lighting. Instead of using, harsh overhead lighting, use multiple sources, such as table lamps, with warmer toned bulbs. Think about adding a floor lamp near your favourite armchair, a table lamp on a side table, and even a cluster of candles (including the very realistic LED flame versions) on the mantlepiece or a coffee table. The soft, shifting glow of candles is an excellent way to create a warm, calm atmosphere.
The biophilic truth of texture and materials
Our connection to the natural world is fundamental, and biophilic design is all about recreating some of those links in the artificial environments of buildings. This can be expressed through the materials that are used.
Tactile textiles are a good place to start. Layering is key for both visual warmth and physical comfort and for breaking up the harsh shapes created by straight lines and sharp corners.
A chunky knitted woollen throw draped over the sofa, a pile of textured cushions, and a deep pile wool rug would both look and feel warm. Natural colours will add a biophilic touch as well. These textures encourage you to physically engage with the space and feel the comfort. The feelings are definitely amplified and more sensual when naked.
Natural materials that tell a story of their origins are a good way of reconnecting with nature during the cold, damp months of the year. Wooden furniture, a wicker basket for blankets, or a stone or ceramic vase all bring a sense of the outdoors in. The ‘truth’ revealed here is that these elements are not just decorative – they are part of a larger, living system. You might even consider collecting some winter elements from outside, such as logs for the fireplace or a simple arrangement of pinecones and evergreen branches.
Horticultural aletheia: bringing life indoors
In winter, when the garden is dormant, the truth of nature’s persistence can be revealed indoors. Houseplants grouped together can create a mini-ecosystem. Wall mounted planters or moss panels can bring vegetation to eye level. Choose plants that are tolerant of low light levels, and consider a variety of textures and sizes to create a naturalistic look.
As well as house plants, consider some seasonal botanical displays. Cut winter branches, dried grasses, pine cones, seed pods or even a small basket of nuts are all worth considering. The beauty of these elements is in their stripped-back, honest form. They remind us that even in stillness, there is a quiet, powerful life force.
The human truth: hearth and sanctuary
Finally, the living room should be a sanctuary for the human experience. Hygge is about creating a space for this, and aletheia is about the profound truths that can emerge within it. So, it makes sense to be comfortable.
Create a cosy nook with a comfortable armchair and a small table for a book and space for a hot drink or a glass of wine. It’s a place designed for introspection and quiet contemplation, where you can be alone with your thoughts.
If you have a fireplace, it’s the natural heart of the room – a literal hearth. If not, you can create a similar focal point with a well-curated bookshelf, a gallery wall of art, or a collection of cherished objects. These elements tell the truth of your identity and your journey, making the space uniquely your own and a place for genuine self-reflection.
By combining these elements, your living room becomes more than just a place to escape the cold. It becomes a space where the sensory comforts of hygge facilitate the deeper process of aletheia, uncovering the truths of nature, beauty, and your own inner world.
Need some advice?
Get in touch for advice on creating a snug, biophilic and aletheic nook in your home to get through winter.
The post discusses the benefits of biophilic design in home offices and other remote working environments. I explore whether performance, effectiveness and job satisfaction can be improved when the body is relaxed and the mind in a state of flow. I mention my personal experiences with naturism and, and advocate for comfort and sensory coherence in workspace design. I also suggest potential revenue opportunities for naturist venues.
Note: This post explores the psychological and wellbeing benefits of naturism within biophilic environments. It contains illustrations depicting nudity and the human form.
A different way of working from home
In a recent post, I wrote about creating spaces for meditation, especially naked meditation. It is a practice that gives an opportunity to notice one’s feelings and a place in the environment in a pure, unconcealed form.
That purposeful activity can be good to aid relaxation, decompress and clear the mind. I often start my working day with some meditation. Sometimes I will take a break from the desk and meditate during the day as well.
I work from home, and have done for almost twenty years, so when the pandemic hit and lockdown was imposed, I found it easy to adapt. I had a garden office and, at the time, lived in house in the countryside. The only thing that really changed was that even more of my work was conducted online and visits to offices and customers stopped completely.
Garden office in winter
This was also the time that I started my own business and ceased to be an employee (although not necessarily in that order!)
It was also a period when I contemplated naturism as more than just the beach activity that I had previously enjoyed.
I’ll get back to that.
Flow
Flow is a state that, when you get into it, seems to allow you to work with great clarity and almost without effort. When you get into that state, time flies and work gets done. However, every distraction or interruption can take you out of the flow state, and it can take several minutes to get back into it.
In many offices, noise is a major distraction. In an open plan space, it is impossible not to tune in to conversations taking place nearby. This is probably an artefact of our evolution – if there is a threat (or opportunity), it’s a good idea to know about it quickly and act accordingly. However, the brain tunes in before realising that the conversation is only about someone cooking fish in the office microwave. At that point, flow has stopped and it takes a while to get going again. This is one reason why a lot of people wear headphones in the office – not just to take calls, but to block out inane chit-chat.
It’s not just noise. Flow can be disrupted by any distraction, and that distraction can be the result of getting confused sensory inputs. This is where biophilic design comes in.
Biophilic design for sensory coherence
A lot of people think that biophilic design is just putting plants in buildings. Plants are certainly a vital component, but biophilic design is really about creating spaces that allow all of our senses to work together in harmony. The things we see should be reinforced, not contradicted, by what we hear, touch, feel and smell. It is about creating built environments that evoke a feeling of nature that relates to our evolutionary history.
An organization called Terrapin Bright Green has been at the forefront of biophilic design thinking, and it has produced its famous and insightful publication about the 14 Patterns of Biophilic Design (to which a 15th category, Awe, has recently been added).
The fourteen patterns are grouped into three categories: nature IN the space, nature OF the space and natural analogues.
A truly biophilic workspace is a significantly better place to be compared with a more conventionally-designed office, and is probably more productive. Certainly, a lot of employers are investing a lot of money into workspaces that are more comfortable and aid wellbeing.
Home working
Many office workers (maybe even the majority in some countries) work from home at least some of the time, and the home office is rarely as expensively fitted out as the most modern office building. The home office may not be free from distractions. However, there are things that can be done to help get into a state of flow. Including a couple of things that can’t easily be done in an office.
A few years ago, I was involved with a research programme carried out at the University of Exeter, which demonstrated that the more autonomy and empowerment office workers had over their working environment (from furnishings to decoration, and even the positioning of pot plants), the more comfortable they were.
When they were more comfortable, they were happier, had greater job satisfaction and, ultimately, were more productive.
The home office is where autonomy over the working environment is almost complete.
Sensory coherence and connection with your environment are the key to success. A working space that provides a true, aletheic connection with nature can be very effective.
Let’s start with the basics.
Comfortable furniture and good lighting are priorities
Without those, then the chances of working comfortably, and productively are diminished. Lighting, in particular, is important and I would recommend investing in a good quality desk lamp as well as making the most of smart lighting and windows.
Next,
Temperature and ventilation need to be considered
Most homes don’t have air conditioning, so managing the indoor climate is under your own control. You have the power to turn on the heating, light a fire, open a window or use a fan as you wish.
Admittedly, the recent heatwaves here in England have made keeping cool quite difficult, but there are ways to make it bearable – especially if you can shift your working hours to the cooler parts of the day.
Working in a home office also means that clothes are much less important and can be worn (or not) for comfort rather than image and convention. Video calls, however, might require one to wear something more business-like.
Biophilic design in the home office
Once the basics of a home workspace are in place, we can look at some more biophilic elements. Here are a few tips.
Give yourself a view
If possible, arrange your desk so that when you look up from the keyboard or screen you can see out of a window. Even if the view is of another building, it will be something distant to focus on, and that will ease eye strain and bring give you a sense of what is going on outside – it might help you decide whether to venture out on a break, or hunker down in the warm, but whatever the weather, you will connect to the world outside.
Open a window
An open window will refresh the air and flush out excess carbon dioxide and other pollutants generated inside the home. It will also bring the sounds of the outside world in – you may hear voices or birdsong or the sound of the wind. It might also be traffic noise, but even that can sometimes be a relief from silence.
Buy some houseplants
This is the eye-catching, Instagram-friendly intervention that will illustrate the pages of the colour supplements and lifestyle websites. However, it is an effective way of bringing some life indoors.
Houseplants need not be expensive or huge. Ikea, for example, has some terrific plants and pots at very good prices (and I know a lot about indoor plants, so you can trust my judgement on this). They add green interest to the indoor environment and also demand some care. Watering (not too much), cleaning and trimming, and arranging plants can be very therapeutic.
Follow your nose
Our sense of smell is our most primitive – detecting chemicals in the environment (which is what the sense of smell is all about) was the first sense to evolve in the animal kingdom. We often react to scents instinctively and before we are consciously aware of them, so we can use fragrances to create a multi-dimensional sensory environment very easily. The range and quality of home fragrances is more comprehensive than ever before, so there is bound to be something appealing.
I’m not going to go down the road of recommending particular scents for particular settings or tasks – we risk straying into pseudoscience – just choose something that you, and your housemates, like.
Water
We use our sense of hearing and smell to detect the presence of water, often before we see it – this is a survival mechanism. As wild animals, we needed to be able to find safe water – not just to drink, but to find prey that also needed a drink.
The sound of rainfall or babbling streams can be found easily just by asking Alexa (or other smart speaker system). A fish tank or small indoor water feature can also be soothing.
Take care of your skin
The skin is your largest sense organ. As well as stopping your insides from escaping, your skin is home to sensors that detect temperature, pressure, movement and resistance, shape and texture. It even senses changes in humidity and static electricity.
Don’t starve it of sensation. Use different textures around your workstation and allow your skin to be stimulated – maybe all of it, not just the hands and face. Someone once suggested to me that clothes on skin were akin to a blindfold for the eyes.
Create a breeze (not a draught), experience some sunlight or even take a shower for pleasure rather than utility.
Comfort is the key
Biophilic design isn’t just about plants. It isn’t about bringing nature indoors. It is about being comfortable – physically and mentally. Comfort brings happiness and happiness is the key to both life satisfaction and also job satisfaction. A little investment in comfort can pay huge dividends for the individual and employers relying on home-based workers.
Non-rhythmic sensations: shadows and sounds
Nature is pretty random. The sites and sounds of nature are rarely regular. Think of the sounds made by wind or rainfall, the rustling of leaves or the play of shadows across the ground. These non-rhythmic stimuli can be replicated in the home too: flames in fireplace or candle, the sounds of rainfall (as mentioned earlier) or even the impact of water droplets on the skin from a shower can be comforting and calming.
Working naked
I mentioned earlier that during the Covid lockdowns of 2020 my exploration of naturism shifted. Before then, I occasionally visited naturist beaches, often on holiday, because it felt comfortable and liberating. Swimwear seemed pointless and nude swimming was a revelation.
However, during lockdown, with access to a secluded garden and with time on my hands, I started to think more deeply about naturism, its philosophy (or philosophies – there are as many as there are naturists) and the reasons for it feeling so good.
I took to spending time in the garden naked, which was wonderful. The complete, uncovered connection with my environment revealed more about me than just my body. Something deeper stirred.
Then I experimented with not getting dressed for work unless I had a video call. I don’t think I was alone in that. If anecdotes on social media are anything to go by, lots of people experimented with naked working.
Mental clarity
My own experience (and this may not be everyone’s) was one of clarity. I could enter a flow state more quickly, think more clearly and get more stuff done. This may be coincidence, but it may also be as a result of the holistic, coherent sensory environment that I had created. My home office was already pretty biophilic, but now it was not just the stuff in the office, it was the interaction between my environment and my whole self that seemed to work.
These days, unless it is very cold, or if I have to take part in video calls, I will probably be naked when working in my home office.
Try it for yourself – you have nothing to lose, and you might find that you work better as a result.
Get in touch if you would like some advice on how to design your own aletheic home office – there’s a contact form at the end of this post.
Opportunities for naturist-friendly venues
I cannot foresee a time (certainly in my remaining lifetime) that companies will create nude working zones in their office buildings. It is true that wellbeing and biophilia are informing design choices in offices, but enabling naturist work is unlikely to take off. There may be some opportunities to use the plethora of wellness rooms that are appearing in office buildings, but I don’t see it happening as a mainstream way of working.
Remote workers and freelancers often find themselves working from coffee shops, coworking spaces or even motorway services. These are not always ideal places to work, and are often noisy, distracting and very far from being biophilic. However, there may be some spaces that could be used.
According to a recent survey highlighted by British Naturism, over 6 million people in the UK have taken part in naturist activities. A lot of those people will be office workers. Some of those office workers may well rely on remote locations for some of their work.
I think there is an opportunity for naturist clubs to take advantage of this potential market. There is an opportunity to open up a new revenue stream and make some extra income during the winter months, or during periods of bad weather when traditional naturist activities are limited.
Many clubs have pavilions or club houses. With a few biophilic interventions, maybe an upgrade to their internet connections and some desks and office chairs, they could set themselves up as co-working spaces for those that would like the opportunity to work unconfined by clothing.
Access could be given to members of British Naturism, or a network of venues could set up a membership scheme (subject to the usual vetting processes) and users could join a subscription scheme or just pay as they used a space.
If you run a naturist venue and think that this is an idea worth looking into, get in touch. I would be happy to have a chat about it with you, and maybe even visit your location see what might be possible.
Get in touch for advice about creating an aletheic home office or remote working environment
