
It’s easy to take ceilings for granted. Most of the time for the majority of us they’re a non-event, they’re up there blocking our view of the sky, part of a structure that keeps the rain and the wind and the cold out.
Certainly, being a “non-event” is better than being a problem, so the fact that most of us don’t think about ceilings a lot may, in some respects, be a good thing.
BUT – not thinking about ceilings during the design process is an opportunity missed, to make an impact, to do good things, for our minds and our bodies.
From a design perspective, one of the best things you can do design- and ceiling-wise is to make sure that the ceiling above your head is a light colour, ideally a lighter colour than the four walls perpendicular to the floor and the floor. This sort of colour organization, lightest overhead and darkest underfoot is what those of us who are Earthlings prefer, it’s what we’ve become accustomed to over our long history as a species and the one that continues to make us most comfortable today.
A light-coloured ceiling doesn’t need to be white, you have lots of options, with a sky reminiscent of very light blue likely to be the most popular of all the alternatives available. There is something tremendously refreshing and positive for the most primitive parts of our brains about seeming to be under a fair-weather sky, even today, even when we’re pleasantly ensconced in a marvellous weather-tight structure that our earliest ancestors (or even our ancestors from a couple of centuries ago) could not even have imagined.
A light-coloured ceiling makes the surface over our heads seem a little further away than it actually is, which makes wherever we are seem a little more spacious than it would otherwise and also directly improves the operation of our minds. When we have the impression that a ceiling is a little higher than standard, we think more creatively, for example.
If a ceiling is brightly lit, it will also seem higher than it otherwise would. So, turning off and on lights can make a space seem more relaxed and informal or reverse that impression.
“And how high should that ceiling be?” you may be asking yourself. Research indicates that in residential settings we respond very well to ceilings that are about 10 feet high and start to feel somewhat scrunched when they get much below 9 feet at home. When ceilings get much above 12 feet, we start to feel like we’re in a formal situation, which is a real negative at home because formal settings are not ones where you’re going to relax or have a pleasant, casual time mingling with others—which is why so many “great rooms” in American homes are really anything but great. Outside the home, it can be wonderful to inspire people to think about being in a formal situation because when we do so, we’re most likely to be on our best behaviour, socially.
Another response to ceiling height: the taller the ceiling gets, the more physically active you’re likely to be, which is a plus if you’re exercising and not so great if you’re trying to fall asleep.
And yet one more: as ceiling heights get lower, we feel better with larger personal spaces, so position seats, etc., accordingly.
If you have a high ceiling in a space you want to have a wonderful time relaxing, hanging out with other people, paint it a darker colour, which will create the impression that it’s a little lower than it actually is, but there’s only so much you can do to friendly-ize a really high ceiling space without installing something. The reason is that our ears can tell when the sound waves from a conversation we’re having with someone else are bouncing off a higher ceiling, and when our ears get the impression that the ceiling is a formal height, that effect is hard to overcome.
What can you do?
Lower the ceiling in the space where you’d like to be having a good time with others—and there are some easier ways to do this than you might at first realize.
It is always possible to install a dropped ceiling, one that’s a large rigid plane closer to the floor than the true ceiling. This requires professional help or the efforts of a really skilled amateur.
There are other alternatives—such as a cocoon- or egg-like chair where you sit inside a pod whose sides extend from under your seat to above your head – which works well for solo relaxing and can ease a situation if you include multiple seats like this within normal chatting distance of each other.
Lots of cocoon- or egg-like chairs clumped together can create an odd visual effect and is somewhat stressful because when people are in a group and don’t have their usual amount of peripheral vision (which they can’t in the sorts of chairs we’re discussing because of their side walls), those gathered together are slightly ill-at-ease.
The best is to create some sort of overhead cloud-like structure, formed from a lightweight material that hangs over the heads of anyone who’d be spending time together. This element could be reminiscent of a cloud, actually, and made out of some sort of puffy, light-coloured material or it could be a lovely light-coloured textile or something else entirely—if you hang it yourself make sure whatever you’re working with is lightweight enough for you and your helpers to lift and manoeuvre easily and lightweight enough so that if you miscalculate and the material falls to the floor, no one will be injured, only your pride will be hurt.
A bonus of having the ceiling be slightly lower: people are apt to speak more quietly when a ceiling is lower because of the speed and intensity with which they hear the reverberation of their own voice from the ceiling (you perceive this “echo” effect whether you consciously realize it or not).

This is quite a low ceiling, but note it is painted white to make it feel less oppressive.
If you’ve read some of our articles about biophilic design (for example, this one or this one), you may be remembering that regular places where humans like to be, those where we feel safe and where we have a view over the world around us (those that in psych-speak are known as having prospect and refuge) have slightly lower ceilings—for example, they’re inglenooks beside fireplaces or walkways or window seats or canopy beds, for example. These biophilic spaces remind the core, more primitive parts of our mind of sitting protected in a tree high above the ground or in the mouth of a cave on the side of a hill, for instance, and to our most ancient of selves, those were very good times indeed.
Sometimes ceilings are not parallel to floors intentionally. When that’s the case, the best options for those sloping ceilings are between 3/12 and 5/12 (that means for example, 3 feet of change in height for every 12 feet of movement along the floor. Our favourite slopes are no slope at all (in other words we do like our ceilings to be parallel to our floors) and 4/12. We respond particularly negatively to slopes that are just off of parallel, such as 1/12.
Unpainted wooden ceilings can be good options for bedrooms, there is some evidence that we fall asleep faster when the light in the room we’re in is bouncing off them—but if you’re placing cool light in a space, which make us more alert, better able to concentrate, and more energetic, put it in light fixtures overhead, it’ll be more effective.
Variations in ceiling heights can signal different zones in a larger space, they can be handy cues encouraging people to conduct themselves in one way or another (to silently focus on the task at hand, for instance) or to consider doing something or other (to exercise or to eat).
Consider ceilings as you consider the other planes in a space; the rewards of doing so will make the crick you get in your neck from all that looking up worth it.