Evolution and Biophilic Design

Humans are a young species and still working with the same sorts of mental apparatus and ways of processing incoming information from our physical world that we had in our first few generations as Homo sapiens.  Lots of us, lots of the time, like to think we’ve come so far from our earliest days as a species—this is a thought that often comes to people in opera houses listening to Mozart—but really, we haven’t.

When we were just starting out, literally, there were a few things that really made us nervous.  They can be briefly summarized as:

1. Being eaten by some big carnivore
2. Starving to death
3. Dying of thirst
4. Freezing to death or the (maybe) opposite, overheating (baking) until dead
5. Being too mentally exhausted to deal with points 1, 2, 3, and 4 although we probably didn’t think in terms of “mental exhaustion” but may have focused on “being ready” for whatever we might need to deal with.

Our ancestors who were good at dealing with issues 1 – 5 lived and reproduced and we owe our existence today (however precarious it might be) to their efforts.

Human brains evolve very, very slowly, so the same sorts of mental apparatus that made our forebears successful at dealing with their world continue to fill our skulls today.  We are still comfortable in the same sorts of places today that those ancestors were way back then.  Replicating the sorts of environments today that kept us going, literally, way back then, at least conceptually, is what’s at the route of biophilic design.

Today, our minds and bodies work best in biophilicly designed spaces.

Right off the bat, it may be useful to share a quick rule of thumb that will help you decide what sort of steps to take when you’re trying to design biophilicly.  If you’re debating a good next step with yourself, think about chipmunks.

Yes, chipmunks.

Chipmunks are small (very, very cute) mammals who live in North America that are social with each other; they enjoy hanging out together, when they want to—chipmunks, like humans, can also relish spending some time alone, when they choose to do so.  (And, as a point of information:  not all chipmunks are called Alvin or form singing groups with their brothers).

The rule of thumb:  if chipmunks will feel comfortable and will relax in a space, so will humans.  All that being comfortable and relaxed is important because that’s when our brains get to do their best thinking, which can be really good for dealing with issues 1 – 5, above.

• Does a chipmunk want to be surprised by something approaching from the rear? You can be assured it does not.
• Does a chipmunk want to concentrate for hour after hour on resolving the significant issues in its world? Certainly not.  Chipmunks like to de-compress just like we do (there are some of us that keep going and going indefinitely like the Energizer bunny, but even they know they should be medicated).
• Does a chipmunk want to be blinded by glaring sun? Non. Non.
• You get the idea: chipmunks want an experience like being in a bucolic meadow on a lovely spring day, and so do people, at least conceptually.

So how can you design biophilicly, creating the sorts of places where you’ll live your best life?

Lots of people, ones who’ve only half read articles about biophilic design, think all there is to it is adding a few plants to a place and watering them from time to time.

Phewy.