My friend Michael Mehaffy and I are writing a series of essays on the future of design, hosted by Metropolis. They can be accessed on their site, and the latest one is entitled "Frontiers of Design Science".
In the meantime, let me point readers to earlier stuff that might be of interest, and which is sorely in need of being expanded and presented to a wider audience. For example, the Chapter I wrote with Kenneth Masden for the book Biophilic Design, 2008, is entitled "Neuroscience, the Natural Environment, and Building Design". Here is a brief extract:
"On many levels, what it essentially means to be human is lost in the practice of architecture today. The denial of human nature acquired greater authority at the turn of the twentieth century, coinciding with the rise in scientific and technological applications. A likely explanation is that people became infatuated with early scientific advances, which confused technology with science itself. They misinterpreted crude technological applications as a substitute for a more complex reality. The promise of science — but a promise based on false premises, eagerly followed by people who did not understand science — has over time stripped humanity of some of its most important non-measurable qualities. What could not be quantitatively measured was presumed not to exist, and was relegated to superstition; a vestige of the past that merited only contempt.
…
Human beings feel most alive in their spiritual moments. In such instances, we feel connected to our environment, in a deep sense belonging to it and to the universe. This stage of inseparable reality has been described in spiritual terms. The experience is unmistakable. It enables us to inhabit the material and spiritual worlds at the same time. The impression of material transcendence is connected with the sacred. Religious architecture of the past helps us to achieve this type of connective experience; indeed, that was its original purpose. The only problem is that traditional explanations of what is going on tend to be non-scientific. Christopher Alexander’s life work provides a scientific foundation for this observed phenomenon. His results raise many questions about the nature of reality (Alexander, The Nature of Order, 2001-2005).
As far as architecture is concerned, we accept the highest level of connectivity of human beings to the material world as real. When this occurs, the built environment may be said to transcend its materiality. All traditional cultures have built sacred spaces in which one experiences an unusually high degree of connection. Sacred spaces are nourishing to whoever occupies them. How is this achieved? We believe that it’s the same process that underlies the biophilic phenomenon. Rather than any mysterious force field unknown to physics, informational fields act to establish a manifestation of the requisite connections. Those who love nature can experience a transcendent communion with it. Ancient religions explain this mystery as sacred communion with nature. Consciously working with the mechanism of informational exchange, we can re-create buildings having the same intense degree of connection. Such buildings will provide the highest level of neurological nourishment.
Hassan Fathy grew increasingly to interpret architectural and urban form in sacred terms. He was not referring to religious buildings, but to everyday dwellings for the poor, a project that occupied him throughout his entire life (Fathy, Architecture for the Poor, 1973). Fathy saw in simple built spaces, surfaces, textures, and configurations an expression of the sacred. This unfortunately brought him into conflict with post-war industrialization, which his colleagues adopted as the only rational solution to the world’s housing problems. Many other architects, including Louis Sullivan and Frank Lloyd Wright, were likely to talk in mystical terms about their architecture, trying to express something they felt instinctively — and could build — but could not formulate very clearly. Our explanation of how architecture connects to human beings therefore rests on considerable precedent, and can now be more clearly understood in neurological terms.
We are aware, however, of a tremendous existing confusion on how to actually achieve architectural transcendence. This is most evident in contemporary religious architecture. According to their architects, some new churches built in a stripped, minimalist style are supposed to represent transcendence. They do nothing of the sort. Without natural elements, figurative art, or ornament, they fail to engage the user in any positive way. Their empty informational field only communicates sensory deprivation, provoking physiological unease. Far from working on the transcendent level of human existence, this design style is a throwback to the mechanical conception of humans. We see a form imposed on top of this presumption ignoring human connective needs. Despite any probable good intentions, the result amounts to a triumph of the architect’s will over human nature."
Best wishes,
Nikos