Designing Our Physical Environments
This is a repost from my newsletter on the design of our physical environments, shared at the end of November 2021. Reposting here after the overwhelming positive feedback. Sign up below if you want to see more. Enjoy!
I've been thinking a lot lately about environments. In my work, I realize that I handle situations differently based on the setting. I'm sure you would say the same. Your space sets the foundation for how you can spend your time, so let's be intentional about its design.
Let's clarify. I am most interested in the environments where we think and create. Further, because I'm in a mostly solo endeavor, I'll frame this as a personal environment. Your spaces in a shared workplace may not afford everything in this discussion, but your home office would (unless you have a cat like Pixel).
Many brilliant folks have written about this before. One of my favorites on the topic is Andy Matuschak, who describes these as enabling environments. Here's Andy's definition:
Enabling — I like that. I want my environments to enable me to think more clearly, produce things of value (for you!), and promote a healthy level of batshit thinking. Being kind of kooky makes me who I am, so let's not eliminate that outright.
In short, the ideal enabling environment puts us into our ideal space to bring value to the world so we can reap financial rewards* from it.
So, what does the ideal enabling environment look like, and how do we create it?
It's funny, most of the research (Dul et al, 2011, Meinel et al, 2017) around this topic is in shared workspaces. That makes sense, of course, but it shows you how limited the understanding of our own thinking environments is! We didn't anticipate Covid to wipe out an underlying constant of how we work. Fortunately, this also meant we could shape our own environment from scratch.
Personally, I got my ass kicked in the first few months of Covid. Amidst the pandemic panic, my work — educational technology — was in hugely increased demand. You can imagine how that played out. In the early days, I was working mostly on a laptop on my couch. Like many of you, I was constantly on video calls. Meetings rolled into each other with little time to think. My back hurt. My eyes hurt. My soul, most notably, hurt.**
Fortunately we got many of those things squared out. A second monitor gave me a familiar setup. As did a desk and a whiteboard. And my chair, my goodness!
When I ultimately determined I didn't want any more of that company's work environment, many of these challenges went away entirely. Today, my video calls are a fraction of the time then. I can choose when I want to focus. I realize my incredible fortune in being able to do this, but I'm grateful to have solved the soul pain for now.
Yet, that's not sustainable for most anyone, so let's explore an intentional design of our environment.
Before we go any further, and we've already gone far, I need to specify two things.
First, I'm assuming you're a knowledge worker, as that's my primary readership. In the case you're reading as a laborer, teacher, or other public performer, consider these insights for your personal space.
Second, because this is an incredibly important topic, I need to distinguish between the types of environments we inhabit. We'll talk here about our physical environment. A separate newsletter will discuss our digital environments, and...yeah, I have some opinions on what we're putting into our brains.
Show me! Show me!
I work in two environments. They're both on the newer side of things. I ruptured my Achilles in July and couldn't get to my desk for around 2 months, so Donna and I moved my workstation to the great room, overlooking Lincoln + Ashland.
And...it's kind of delightful. Being in a high-ceilinged room affords creativity (Meyers-Levy & Zhu, 2007), which I get paid for and is the focus of this note. The brightness in our main room and proximity to nearly everything I needed (see: food for me + Pix) makes it quite nice. I also can use it late night and not disturb Donna, which is mission critical when I find my second wind.
There's some downside, too. I noticed how easily distracted I was with the sound and sidewalk views (see: swarms of interesting and/or attractive people). We are in Chicago, after all. Pix also sensed my constant availability and made it his mission to eat whenever he damn well pleases. Le sigh.
The workspace also runs off a laptop, and its power is the last limiter. It's what I mentioned last month as a key driver of building my own computer. So, workspace two runs on my built computer in the bedroom nook.
This is a proper machine (specs inside), even if you can't see the tower. A behemoth AMD Ryzen CPU with integrated graphics, 1TB SSD with 32 MB of RAM powers a 34" curved screen manipulated by a mechanical keyboard + designer mouse. In legible terms, that's a bad motherfucker. The single, massive screen immerses me into what I'm doing. This is the archetype of a personal experiment gone incredibly right.
Flanked on the left is a 3x4' two-sided whiteboard that's been with me since the jump. Respect on its name. To the right is the bedframe...which actually gives me walls to hold fleeting thoughts (on post-its). Behind it is a pegboard with shelving and hooks to hang my mic, when I'm struck to record my voice. I had to paint these green and brown (away from their initial red), because well, colors drive emotions (Valdez & Mehrabian, 1994), and I don't like being angry.
The result is a space that I've managed to craft for deep thought and focus — a direct alternative to the creative, airy great room space where I take calls and float between ideas.
If this feels at all familiar, this maps to Christopher Alexander's vision of the home workshop in the brilliant A Pattern Language trilogy (see patterns #156. 157, and 183). Each of our 7 variables determine the feel of our environment. So, let's play within their bounds.
Match the work to the space
Our core finding is that the type of work we do should match the space in which it can best be done. This makes sense! I design in the great room; it's a naturally creative space. I write code in the bedroom; I can focus there.
I'm sure this will continue to evolve, but the principles of choosing 1) free form or focused and 2) creative or analytical (including reading) work help guide the environment I decide on. This almost forms a 2x2 we can optimize for.
Admittedly, I realized this was a 2x2 about 90% into writing this, but I think it works!
I doubt your map will resemble mine. Our environments and work are surely different, but let's make it practical for you. This should take no longer than a few minutes.
List out the different types of work you do. You will probably find 5-10 different themes. In my case, there are approximately 9: writing (research), writing (code), writing (for fun), reading, design (UX/UI), video calls, whiteboarding, finances, and life management.
Think about the characteristics of your workspace. These tie to our variables listed above (ceiling, light, sound, view, power, walls, colors).
Plot your work types and workspaces to this blank map.
Assess what gaps exist between your work and your spaces.
If you're inclined to do this yourself, send me your map. My guess is that some aspect of your workspace can be tweaked, and it’s always a season for gifts as propellers.
What's important here is that the design of our spaces is intentional. Our workspaces afford the type of thinking we are able to do. Why not design our environment to enable us to create more meaning?
Footnotes exist!
* It's not about money, but freedom of time...which money affords. A further distinction: aiming to make money rarely results in me enjoying my time; I much prefer to make meaning.
** I will say, moving to virtual work made me much more confident in my ability to execute in stressful situations. Being in an office environment, constantly around the humans contributing stress, surely made me less effective. I was prone to react with my heart on my sleeve, and I am rarely clear-headed when that's the case.