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ACTIU Berbegal y Formas, S.A.
Blog / Inspiration / ACTIU Talks with Sophie Schuller: architecture and wellbeing in office design
ACTIU Talks with Sophie Schuller: architecture and wellbeing in office design

ACTIU Talks with Sophie Schuller: architecture and wellbeing in office design

JUNY 2025
·
5 minutes

"Too often, we just accept the default: one table, six chairs, job done. But different types of work require different cognitive support and, from a neuroscience point of view, that means different environmental cues."

Since beginning her research career at the intersection of urban strategy and public health, Sophie Schuller has sought to understand how the spaces we inhabit shape our everyday lives. From large urban landscapes to the details of every workplace, her work explores how design decisions influence social outcomes, health and well-being. Today, his research is taking on new dimensions through interdisciplinary collaborations that reveal the profound and measurable effects our environment has on mental and physical health.

What first attracted you to explore the intersection between neuroscience and architecture? Is this a well-trodden path in terms of existing research?

As I began my career in real estate, where offices have historically been treated as mere financial assets, I realised how unhealthy and uninspiring they were: designed for efficiency, not for real people. That disconnect led me to study neuroscience and psychology. I wanted to understand how the spaces we work in influence our brains, our bodies and our behaviour.

Now I'm involved in neuroarchitecture - applying science to workplace design. It's about creating environments that don't just look good, but actually help people feel better, think more clearly and perform at their best.

Can you explain how a typical meeting room can fall short in supporting health and wellbeing?

For me, it all starts with intentionality. Design is always the result of choices, but have they been the right ones? Has anyone stopped to ask themselves what this space is really for? In a meeting room, we need more and more spaces that can adapt, but that adaptability has to be based on purpose. Too often, we simply accept the default: one table, six chairs, job done. But different types of work require different cognitive support and, from a neuroscience point of view, that means different environmental cues.

What are the biggest myths or misunderstandings about sensory design in architecture that you commonly encounter?

One of the biggest myths comes from blanket statements that something is universally good or bad. I often see articles stating that we should design spaces that eliminate cortisol, but this has nothing to do with how the body functions. Cortisol is not inherently bad; it helps us to concentrate, to be alert and to think in complex ways. It only becomes a problem when it is chronically elevated.

Part of the problem is that many of these claims are based on small, unrepresentative studies, which then become bold, oversimplified design rules. This kind of one-size-fits-all thinking flattens the science and slows progress between academia and design practice. Instead of pursuing universal truths, we should focus on building frameworks of understanding, creating spaces that support people's natural rhythms and help them regain balance. Sensorial design is not based on fixed rules, but on intentionality, adaptability and context.

"Every choice sends a message. A space filled with cheap, utilitarian materials indicates one thing. But thoughtful details, such as acoustic panels that are functional and beautiful, communicate care and value."

How do we rethink the choice of materials, often motivated by cost or aesthetics, in the service of behavioural and neurological health?

Good sensory design doesn't have to cost more, it's about making intentional choices. For example, investing in a high quality finish for chairs rather than expensive flooring makes sense, because people interact more with chairs. Touch is fundamental to experiencing space, and if we understand the sensory homunculus - which maps the areas of the body with the most sensory input - we begin to see where investment in design really counts.

We also need to rethink how we define value. Workplace design is often reduced to budget items: furniture, finishes, totals. But what about long-term results: staff retention, wellbeing, creativity, fewer sick days? These are not soft metrics; they are measurable and financially relevant. Moreover, design is never neutral. Every choice conveys a message. A space full of cheap, utilitarian materials indicates one thing. But thoughtful details, like acoustic panels that are functional and beautiful, communicate care and value. That matters.

In practical terms, how can good design encourage healthy movement through spatial design, without seeming prescriptive or forced?

Furniture is an extension of architecture and plays a key role in how we experience spaces, and it is true that our 'object system' identifies us. It not only complements design, but also defines the relationship between the user and their environment, influencing comfort, functionality and well-being.

Companies such as Actiu can contribute to improving people's health through ergonomic design, the use of healthy materials and solutions that favour flexibility and comfort in work and living spaces. Architecture and furniture must be aligned to create environments that optimise the user experience and promote their wellbeing.

How can we measure or evaluate the success of "spaces that care"? Is there a framework or indicator to recommend?

One of the most important things you can do is simply ask people. But you have to do it well. Traditional methods, such as surveys or interviews, often fail. People tend to give socially desirable answers, what they think you want to hear, especially in short time frames. What we really need is proper ethnographic research, long-term observational studies of how people actually behave and interact with their environment. For example, if you paint stairs nicely to encourage movement, do people climb them more? You can't find that out from a survey. But ethnographic observation allows you to check this over time. The other problem is that there are now so many wellbeing frameworks and tools that people often end up focusing more on the framework itself than on the real goal: improving how people feel. This is the biggest risk, because you lose sight of the goal.

Where do you see the next frontier of neuroscience-based design going? What excites you most about what's to come?

What really excites me is the increasing intersectionality between disciplines. Right now, we have designers who know something about neuroscience and neuroscientists who know something about design, but often the expectations don't match. Designers can expect clear, practical answers from science, while scientists deliver results without knowing quite how they will be used. What we need is true collaboration, not compromise: that's when things start to get exciting: when you build a feedback loop that advances both fields simultaneously. I believe the future lies in breaking down silos, so that we can jointly create environments that are not just smart or efficient, but that truly support human health and flourishing.