The office that breathes: When nature reinvents our way of working
Imagine an autumn morning in Tokyo. You step into a building of glass and steel, and suddenly, the air changes. A light breeze brushes your face, carrying the scent of damp earth and leaves. Instead of sterile corridors, cascades of greenery line your path: giant ferns cling to the walls, bamboo whispers in the drafts, and at the center, a pool reflects the sky through a canopy of branches. Welcome to the e-commerce giants Spheres, where 40,000 plants from around the world have transformed a workspace into a miniature tropical forest. Here, meetings take place in suspended "tree pods," and employees eat lunch beneath the canopy of century-old fig trees. The goal? Nothing less than reinventing productivity.
By Artedusa
••12 min readYet this idea is hardly new. It draws from centuries of history, where nature has always been a discreet ally of intellectual work. Medieval monks meditated in cloistered gardens before writing their manuscripts. Leonardo da Vinci sketched his inventions in studios bathed in natural light, surrounded by climbing plants. Even the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, often seen as mere architectural marvels, were in fact spaces for reflection for the king’s scribes and advisors. So why did we forget this obvious truth? Why do our modern offices, with their harsh fluorescent lights and gray walls, resemble cages more than places of creation?
The answer lies in one word: industrialization. In the 19th century, the factory imposed its rule, along with the idea that work should be a mechanical activity, disconnected from its environment. Windows were sealed to prevent distractions, plants were banned in the name of hygiene, and natural light was replaced by fluorescent tubes. The result? Sterile spaces where we suffocate, where creativity fades, and where stress thrives. Yet today, neuroscience reminds us of a simple truth: our brains are not made to live cut off from the living world. Studies show that the mere presence of a plant on a desk increases concentration by 15%, while a view of nature reduces cortisol, the stress hormone, by nearly 40%. So how do we reintroduce this breath of life into our urban workspaces? How do we turn an office into a place that lives, inspires, and—above all—makes us more effective?
01The forgotten legacy: when nature was an ally of work
If you step into the abbey of Mont-Saint-Michel, you’ll notice an inner courtyard surrounded by galleries. This is no accident. This cloister, with its herb garden and shaded walkways, was designed as a space for meditation and work. Monks copied manuscripts here, studied theology, prayed. Nature was not mere decoration—it was a condition for concentration. Aromatic plants—lavender, rosemary, sage—purified the air and stimulated the mind. Fountains, with their constant murmur, masked distracting noises. Even the architecture, with its slender columns and airy vaults, mimicked the structure of trees, as if to remind us that humans are but one link in creation.
This intuition was not unique to the West. In Kyoto, the shoin-zukuri—the scholars’ work pavilions—were built around dry gardens, or karesansui. Not a drop of water, just gravel raked into waves, precisely placed rocks, and carefully tended moss. The idea? To offer the mind a minimalist landscape, a visual meditation that fostered clarity of thought. The Zen monk who sat before this garden to practice calligraphy or meditate knew one thing: nature, even in symbol, is a mirror of our own interiority.
Yet with the Industrial Revolution, this wisdom was swept away. Factories imposed a new model: that of the functional space, where every square inch had to serve productivity. Windows were reduced, walls painted white to reflect artificial light, and plants dismissed as useless distractions. Even Frank Lloyd Wright, a pioneer of organic architecture, had to fight for his ideas. In the 1930s, when he designed Fallingwater—a house suspended over a waterfall—his clients initially thought it madness. Today, that house is considered a masterpiece—and proof that nature is not a luxury, but a necessity.
02The awakening of neuroscience: why your brain needs chlorophyll
In 2014, a study from the University of Exeter sent shockwaves through the working world. For months, researchers observed 7,600 employees across 16 countries. Their conclusion? Those who worked in offices with plants were 15% more productive than their colleagues in sterile spaces. Even better: their job satisfaction rose by 40%, and their stress levels dropped significantly. How to explain such a gap?
The answer lies in our brains—specifically, in what scientists call the biophilia hypothesis. Popularized by biologist Edward O. Wilson in the 1980s, this theory posits that humans have an innate affinity for the living world. For millions of years, our survival depended on our ability to read nature’s signs: the rustling of leaves warning of predators, the scent of rain signaling a storm, the color of fruit indicating ripeness. Today, even as we live in concrete cities, our brains remain wired to seek these cues. When deprived of nature, it’s as if part of us is missing. Hence that feeling of suffocation, that chronic fatigue, that difficulty concentrating.
Neuroscience has confirmed this intuition. In 2019, a University of Chicago team showed that merely looking at a tree activates the same brain regions as meditation. Another study, from the University of Michigan, found that employees exposed to images of nature during breaks solved problems 50% faster than those staring at blank walls. And that’s not all: the sound of water, the scent of flowers, even the texture of wood under our fingers have measurable effects on well-being. A solid oak table, for example, reduces stress by 25% compared to a metal one, according to a University of British Columbia study.
Yet despite this overwhelming evidence, most offices remain mineral deserts. Why? Because we’ve confused efficiency with sterility. Because we’ve believed that productivity is measured in usable square footage, not air quality, natural light, or the presence of life. Fortunately, things are starting to change. Architects like Stefano Boeri, with his vertical forests, and designers like Oliver Heath, a specialist in biophilic design, are reimagining our workspaces. Their credo? An office shouldn’t just be functional. It should breathe.
03The art of bringing the forest into an open-plan office
How do you transform an ordinary office into a living space? The answer isn’t just about placing a few potted plants on the shelves. It’s about rethinking the entire space, integrating nature at every stage—from architecture to materials, lighting to sound.
Take the e-commerce giants Spheres in Seattle. These aren’t just giant greenhouses—they’re entire ecosystems. Architects at NBBJ designed three glass domes, each housing a different climate: a humid tropical forest, a Mediterranean garden, and a desert space. Inside, 40,000 plants from 30 countries coexist, while waterfalls and pools create a soothing soundscape. Employees can work in suspended "tree pods" or simply stroll during breaks. The result? A 20% boost in creativity, according to team feedback.
But you don’t need to build a tropical forest to reap nature’s benefits. Sometimes, small details are enough. In Paris, L’Oréal’s offices were redesigned by architect Jean-Michel Wilmotte. Instead of a classic open-plan layout, he created an organic space where partitions are replaced by living walls, and natural light is maximized through skylights. The materials? Solid wood for tables, natural stone for floors, linen for chairs. Even the colors were chosen to evoke nature: mossy greens, ocean blues, sandy beiges. The result? A space that breathes, where employees feel less stressed and more inspired.
So where to begin? Here are a few ideas, inspired by the best projects:
Light first. Nothing replaces natural light. If your office is dark, opt for skylights or strategically placed mirrors to reflect light. Avoid harsh fluorescent bulbs, and choose full-spectrum bulbs that mimic daylight., Plants, of course. But not just any. In a dimly lit office, go for hardy species like snake plants or ZZ plants. If you have space, a fiddle-leaf fig or kentia palm adds a majestic touch. And don’t forget living walls—a cascade of greenery that purifies the air and soothes the mind., Natural materials. Replace plastic with wood, stone, or bamboo. A solid oak table, terracotta floors, or rattan shelves radically change the atmosphere. Even textiles matter: opt for linen, wool, or organic cotton., Sounds and scents. A wall fountain, an essential oil diffuser (lavender for concentration, lemon for energy), or a playlist of nature sounds (forest rustling, ocean waves) can turn a room into a haven. et Views. If you don’t have a window overlooking a park, create an artificial one: a landscape painting, an aquarium, or even a screen looping nature scenes.
04The office as an ecosystem: when work mimics life
What if the office of tomorrow wasn’t just a place, but a living organism? That’s the vision of Stefano Boeri, the Italian architect behind Milan’s Bosco Verticale. His two residential towers, covered in 900 trees and 20,000 plants, aren’t just a technical feat. They embody a philosophy: architecture should draw inspiration from nature, not dominate it.
Boeri applies this idea to his office projects. In Milan’s Torre Verde, employees work amid trees. Balconies become hanging gardens, and facades turn into full ecosystems. The goal? To create microclimates that regulate temperature, purify the air, and attract birds and insects. "An office shouldn’t be a concrete box," Boeri explains. "It should breathe, like a living being."
This approach goes beyond aesthetics. It’s based on a simple idea: nature is the best model for designing sustainable, human-centered spaces. Take termite mounds. These structures, built by insects, maintain a constant 30°C temperature, even in the desert. Architects now use them as inspiration for passive buildings that don’t need air conditioning. Or consider lotus leaves, which repel water and stay clean. This property has led to self-cleaning materials used in hospitals and offices.
But perhaps the most fascinating aspect is how these spaces evolve over time. In Google’s Zurich offices, plants grow freely, and employees are encouraged to tend them. The result? A place that changes with the seasons, ages gracefully, and reminds those who work there that time, too, has its own rhythm. "An office shouldn’t be static," says Oliver Heath. "It should grow, like a garden."
05Pitfalls to avoid: when nature becomes a gimmick
Yet beware: nature in the office isn’t a magic formula. Used poorly, it can turn into greenwashing—a mere marketing ploy without real substance. Take WeWork. In 2019, the company was criticized for its artificial living walls—plastic plants with no benefit for air quality or well-being. Worse, some of its poorly designed spaces developed humidity and mold issues, turning offices into toxic greenhouses.
So how do you avoid these pitfalls? Here are a few golden rules:
Prioritize the living. A real plant purifies the air, regulates humidity, and creates a sensory connection. A plastic plant is just decoration., Adapt species to the environment. A monstera needs light; a snake plant thrives in shade. Choose local, hardy plants that don’t require constant care., Think about maintenance. A poorly watered living wall becomes a dead wall. Plan an automatic irrigation system or designate a "plant manager" on the team., Avoid excess. Too many plants can create a stifling atmosphere or attract insects. Balance is key: one plant every three meters, according to experts. et Integrate nature from the start. Adding plants to an existing office is good. Designing a space around nature is better. Consider window orientation, airflow, and materials.
06Tomorrow: the wild office
What if, in the future, our offices looked more like forests than open-plan spaces? That’s the vision of some pioneers, who imagine rewilded workspaces where nature reclaims its rights.
In Tokyo, the Pasona Group turned its headquarters into an urban farm. Employees grow vegetables in hydroponic gardens, and walls are covered in vines. In Chicago, The Plant—a former factory—has been converted into a self-sufficient ecosystem: organic waste is composted, algae purify the water, and employees work amid greenhouses.
This trend, called rewilding, goes beyond aesthetics. It’s based on a radical idea: the office should be a place of regeneration, not just production. A space where we reconnect with the earth, learn to observe nature’s cycles, and understand that work, too, has its own rhythm.
So what would your ideal office look like? A light-filled, minimalist space? A hanging garden where plants climb the walls? Or perhaps a treehouse, like the ones Google installed in its California offices?
One thing is certain: the office of tomorrow won’t be a place where we merely survive. It will be a space where we live. A place that breathes, inspires, and—above all—reminds us that we are part of something much greater than ourselves. As the American poet Gary Snyder said: "Nature is not a place to visit. It is home." So why not make it our workplace, too?