It’s About Time to Unlearn Aesthetics

We need to be designing better spaces for an anxious world using the science of emotion, attention, and safety.

We’ve been designing for photographic singular moments and spatial efficiency metrics. Meanwhile, the nervous system, the first and most honest responder in any room, has been largely ignored.

We call it a vibe. Neuroscientists call it neuroception: the way the body evaluates a space for safety before the brain has time to form a single conscious thought.

In a time when anxiety disorders are skyrocketing and attention spans are collapsing, architects and hospitality professionals should be asking a different question: what does this space do to the body?

Here are some principles that may contradict what we are experiencing in the world today.

I.

Aesthetics Won’t Save A Badly Designed Space

Before thought and language occurs when entering a space, the body subconsciously asks: am I safe here?

Stephen Porges coined the term “neuroception” to describe the unconscious way the nervous system scans for danger or ease. This scan happens in milliseconds- triggered by posture, light, facial expression, and spatial context.

In hospitality, neuroception is the silent handshake between space and guest. High ceilings can open the breath. Warm-toned lighting relaxes the vagus nerve. Clear sightlines reduce vigilance.

Design suggestion: If a space demands effort to relax in, no amount of aesthetic polish will save it. Beauty that isn’t biologically informed is just another layer of performance.

II.

Curves Are Not A Trend

Architects love the drama of angularity.

But the brain doesn’t.

A study by Bar and Neta (2007) showed that sharp angles activate the amygdala — the same brain region that lights up in the presence of perceived threat. Curves, by contrast, are neurologically processed as safe and familiar.

Ignore this at your own risk. Harsh geometry may impress on a portfolio page, but it keeps the body alert in ways that feel small at first, and cumulatively exhausting over time.

Ask yourself: Is your design impressive or inhabitable? You may not get both.

III.

Light Is Not Decorative

Every lighting decision is hormonal. Samer Hattar’s neuroscience research revealed how light exposure affects not only circadian rhythms but also mood-regulating brain regions.

Blue-spectrum LEDs, commonly used for “clarity,” suppress melatonin and heighten arousal. Too much artificial exposure, or the wrong kind, will leave people wired, restless, or emotionally flat.

Challenge this:
If your lighting scheme was chosen primarily for aesthetics or energy efficiency, it's probably working against the nervous system. Position communal spaces to receive sunrise or golden hour. Use warmer, amber-toned fixtures in rest areas. And in windowless rooms, emulate the softness of dawn or dusk — never the glare of a screen.

IV.

Color Theory is Elementary

Red raises cortisol. Blue slows heart rate. Green regulates autonomic balance. These are biologically encoded responses.

If your palette doesn’t account for the neurochemical implications of hue, then it's decorative, not strategic. Elliot and Maier’s color-in-context theory outlines how saturation, hue, and contrast can alter everything from attention span to emotional tone.

Controversial but true:
Minimalism in grayscale may look sophisticated to designers — but for the average guest, it often reads as cold, overstimulating, or void of warmth.

V.

Memory Is a Spatial Pattern

Our brains remember places through patterns of transition, texture, sound, and emotional resonance. O’Keefe and Nadel’s theory of cognitive maps shows how spatial memory is formed through movement and emotional intensity — not static visuals.

When a space evokes emotional clarity, the memory of it becomes neurologically adhesive. When it overwhelms or fragments attention, it vanishes.

Translation: Architectural drawings don’t move. Humans do. Don’t just furnish spaces, choreograph them. Create narrative through spatial rhythm: compression and release, light and shadow, intimacy and openness. Allow emotional pacing, like a well-structured novel.

VI.

Visual Clutter is Brain Pollution

Designers love to talk about “richness,” “layering,” and “storytelling.” But to the part of the brain tasked with filtering, regulating, and focusing — it’s all noise. Visual clutter drains executive function the same way urban smog drains breath.

Every material shift, every contrast, every busy wall asks for neural processing. Collectively, they mimic a threat-rich environment. The body doesn’t know you’re in a boutique hotel or a high-end restaurant, it just registers overwhelm.

Be Honest:
If your design makes people feel the urge to check their phone, scroll, or look away, you’ve created a neurological escape hatch, not a sanctuary.

VII.

Most Design Fails in the Places No One Photographs

Everyone obsesses over the lobby.

No one thinks about the hallway.

But the nervous system does. It tunes in precisely when you tune out- in the elevator vestibule, in the stairwell, between the dining room and the bathroom. These liminal zones are where the body updates its map of safety.

We’ve trained ourselves to see these in-between spaces as “functional.” But transition is emotional. It’s where the mood either builds or breaks.

The Challenge: If your transitions feel dead, your design isn't alive.

We talk about aesthetics like they’re enough. They’re not.

Beauty that doesn’t regulate is just performance.

Design can do more. we can do more.