Yet, if you’ve ever used the NYC Subway, carried a “Big Brown Bag” from Bloomingdales, or flew on American Airlines (before 2013), you’ve been guided by his invisible hand.

Born in Milan in 1931, Massimo was fascinated with art and design at a very early age. Formally trained in architecture (though never finishing his degree), Vignelli was first hired as a draftsman for an Italian Firm. In 1957, he realized his passion lay not in physical buildings and structures, but with their renderings. This led him down a winding path that ended with the enlightenment of realizing his passion was design.

Armed with what little money he had, and a dream, he arrived in New York City for a design fellowship. There he learned the art of metalsmithing, designing forks, spoons, and other cutlery for a popular kitchen product firm. He returned to Milan in 1960, but by then his realization that a life lived without design was one wasted. In 1966, Massimo was tapped to be a founding member of Unimark, a company that would be one of the most reputable design firms of the 1970s. He and his wife moved back to New York City, where he would spend the rest of his life.

At Unimark, Massimo’s focus was around designing logotypes and corporate identities for some of the biggest companies in the world, including American Airlines, Bloomingdales, Knoll, the US Parks Service, and more.

What drew people to Vignelli’s work was its utter simplicity. In the 1960’s, design was going through a rebirth. This marked the exact era when businesses began discarding complex illustrative branding for unified, highly disciplined, simple grid-based design systems.

Notwithstanding his initial success and iconic designs, Massimo’s magnum opus wouldn’t be for another 10 years after founding his firm, when he was selected to design the new New York City Subway System map.

Obsessed with geometric proportion and tasked with bringing order to something increasingly confusing and complex, Massimo refused to let the mess of New York City’s three very distinct transit systems and over 468 operating stations win against his perpetual quest to simplify the everyday and to fight against what he called ‘visual disease’; removing all the unnecessary noise in a piece.

The map was praised by the design community. Sticking only to combinations of 90 and 45 degree angles, erasing the actual curved tracks and disproportionate lengths between stops, the Map became a minimalist bible and almost a blasphemous representation of the five boroughs. But the Map was never intended to be used above ground. It was supposed to simplify directional travel on the trains by removing every piece of information that was not essential to transit under the city.

New Yorkers, being New Yorkers, pushed back in outrage. Central Park was a grey square. The water was an ugly colour of beige (even though beige was THE colour of the 70s) and the proportions and lines didn’t match the maps people were used to. The City demanded Geography; Vignelli gave them data.

The back and forth of Vignelli’s map continues to this day, with the MTA still modifying the map with the occasional hat tip to the designer himself.

Vignelli’s (less controversial) work for the MTA also included the wayfinding system which is still in use today, famously known for its white lettering on black signage.

In 2014, and at the age of 83, Massimo Vignelli died in New York City.

Design is Fucking Hard

I remember when my friend Jeff gave me a license key to Adobe Creative Suite in 2013. (Hoping the statute of limitations has passed on this one!).

I loved photoshop. Playing with all the features and layers were amazing, and in a truly non-destructive workflow, I had no fear that what I was doing could not be reversed.

Then I moved to the rest of the suite. And in a moment of pure hubris, I tried illustrator. It’s now 2026 and I still have a Creative Cloud License, yet still can’t figure out the pen tool.

But watching the program and software suite evolve over the last 13 years gave me an admiration for the designers who continually mastered it. People like Aaron Draplin, Tobias Van Schneider, Dan Mall and Karl Hebert were gods to me; not only did they have a creative eye for the everyday, they were able to translate that to a digital design system in a way that I envied.

I truly believe that if you want to appreciate the work that goes into something, you have to try it yourself. Understanding what a challenge it is to design (both the mechanics and the process) is something that has given me a love for seeing it in the everyday.

I think design is also one of those things you have to look for. Typography, for example, hides in the mundane. Humans read an estimated 1,000 words every single day, and I bet not one of you could tell me a single font you saw in the last 24 hours.

The Design Ship is (at risk of) Crashing

AI is getting increasingly good at adopting the aesthetic of a system of design. As text-based GPT programs master their craft and then turn to more complex, visual challenges, we will only see this mimicry get better and better.

But the issue with AI is that it completely bypasses the discipline required to achieve it. It’s a seductive shortcut, a siren, leading design ships into an area of rocky waters as they lose their creative edge. If we aren’t careful, we risk accepting a world flooded with designs that look perfectly structured on the surface but lack the deep, human-centric logic that actually makes them communicative and functional.

There’s another risk too: we lose the skillset.

Ask anyone you know that has integrated AI into their workflow HOW it has changed their ability to do things the manual way, and I assure you the answer will be the same: the skills once honed to complete a task have started to dull, like that one knife in the kitchen drawer (which Vignelli probably designed).

This isn’t speculation, either. Scientists have referred to this phenomenon as cognitive atrophy. Based on the principal of cognitive offloading (removing micro-decisions from our to-do list because we simply don’t have the brain power), if we constantly put decisions on AI, we can run the risk of atrophying the areas of our brain that make those very decisions.

If we aren’t careful, we risk creating a world flooded with designs that look perfectly structured on the surface but lack the deep, human-centric logic that actually makes them functional.

THIS is why AI in design is so incredibly dangerous. Not only do we continue to push the button and create designs that are simply sloppy copies of great works, we are slowly, but surely, killing those capable of creating greatness once again.

Redirection

Steve jobs famously called the computer a bicycle for the mind. And if that analogy holds true, then AI is likely on the order of being a spaceX Falcon 9 rocket. We have already seen and will continue to see advancements and efficiencies we cannot simply imagine.

So, to be clear, I’m not here to voice against the use of AI in design; I think that approach would be folly. AI will allow us to rapid prototype, to try and fail at speeds our ancestors could only dream of. We don't need to reject AI entirely, but we must use it as a tool, not a crutch.

Massimo Vignelli did not leave behind a template, but a discipline. His iconic grids and stark typographic systems were never meant to be a static aesthetic endlessly replicated. They serve as symbols of a human mind wrestling with chaos until only the most essential artifacts remained.

When we prompt AI to recreate this aesthetic, we are not practicing that discipline. We are simply summoning a ghost. This is where the illusion of order becomes actively dangerous. It masks cognitive atrophy.

By outsourcing the struggle, we lose edge. We are no longer architects of intent. We are merely editors of statistical averages. Throwing a fistful of pasta against the wall and keeping the noodles that stuck.

Relying on algorithms trained on the triumphs of the past guarantees a future of automated nostalgia. Sure, the work will be beautiful, attractive, attention getting. But we risk checking ourselves into the Hotel California of creativity. Stuck in an endless loop of derivative nostalgia.

So, to the designer, to the dreamer, go out and do something hard. Make something, even if it’s shit. You might be the only thing left holding the subway car between art and atrocity.

For Massimo, and for us.

-Baron

Mostly to see friends, sometimes to see business associates. Each time I’ve gone, I’ve made a habit of trying to explore the world beyond the boroughs. Manhattan is nice, but expensive. So is Brooklyn. Very expensive for a bunch of trust fund hipsters trying to cosplay poor people.

Growing up in Toronto and going to school in Miami, the train was something that took me time to understand. My exposure to a subway system was a “U” with the bloor-danforth line that only the destitute would frequent.

And trains? Never heard of them. A train trip was something you did once with your ageing grandfather or uncle across Canada, or to Ottawa or Montreal to see university friends if you were desperate and couldn’t find a porter flight.

So imagine a kid growing up with no rail exposure being introduced to the concept of the railroad. Penn Station, Grand Central. Very quickly, these transitioned from movie sets to actually useful tools.

30 minutes north on the Metro North would yield remarkably more affordable long-term stays.

Greenwich was not a fictional white-picket fence destination where some friends grew up, it became a reachable base when my flight landed in Laguardia.

But as my world continued to open to these additional locales where some spend entire lives, I began to see an emerging pattern: the slop.

New York is sexy because it’s old dressed up as new. Trending restaurants in a spot with stamped ceilings. Mosaics at every subway stop. An ice cream parlour in a prohibition-era speakeasy.

But the areas around the city don’t seem to carry the same grandeur.

It’s a dumb concept. Most of these areas have been around as long as the city itself.

But they aren’t nearly as attractive.

I accredit this to bid-rent and agglomeration. Land value peaks at the center and decays outward; only the core can economically justify monumental buildings, because only there does the land command the rents that pay for grandeur.

Manhattan's grandeur is also a timing artifact…most of its monumental fabric (Beaux-Arts civic buildings, the great terminals, the early skyscraper canyons) was built during the Gilded Age when enormous capital was concentrated in a tiny footprint.

Suburbs like Mamaroneck largely developed later and for a different purpose: they were built to be quiet bedroom communities, not civic showpieces.

Defining “Slop”

Remember that SpongeBob episode where the Krusty Krab becomes a restaurant chain, leading them to mass produce krabby patties?

I’ve often thought that SpongeBob was actually well ahead of its time. This may have actually proved it.

Because we saw this in restaurants that went corporate. Think of a burger restaurant. Those same exposed bulbs, fry baskets, and high top tables with barstools. Walking in you know the food will be mediocre and the bill about $20 more than it should be.

Turning homeward, we have the same issue. Toronto is facing an extreme bout of NIMBYism. Like, not in a ‘boomer with a sign’ way. In a dizzying, insane, shut down debate, rally the troops, mob at the steps of city hall kind of way.

As a result, planning applications have had to think un-creatively. An approved condo building is usually approved because it fits with the form. Translation? It’s identical.

If you live in Toronto (my apologies if you do) go downtown and count the number of buildings with the following characteristics:

- historical facade or some kind of brick or fake stone

- 3-4 storey commercial retail at the street level

- 30-40 storey 12 foot setback tower above

I’ve found this cancerous trend to be extremely fertile in cities with less or no history. Take Austin, for example.

The city was incorporated December 27, 1839, so it's about 186 years old on paper. But its population has doubled roughly every 20 to 25 years since its founding, and it crossed one million residents for the first time in 2026.

A city that keeps doubling has almost no old building stock left as a share of the whole…the physical Austin you walk through is mostly a product of the last two or three growth spurts. There's no deep sediment for character to accumulate in.

Same can be said of its population…who’s average age is just 33!

• South Congress (SoCo) is the clearest before/after. A strip of local shops (Mi Casa, Sunroom) has been increasingly replaced by Hermès, Lululemon, Alo, and Aviator Nation; the same luxury-mall lineup you’d find in any affluent zip code.

• Verts: an Austin-born döner spot that got taken over, gutted into a Chipotle-style knockoff, and then died anyway. Great example of the hollowing-out pattern, which is almost worse than a straight closure.

• Jumpolin: an East Austin piñata store, was literally bulldozed in 2015 without the owners’ knowledge to make way for redevelopment. The on-the-nose parable of “soul demolished for slop.”

• The “Keep Austin Weird” slogan itself: coined ~2000 by librarian Red Wassenich, then trademarked and sold on mass-produced mugs and t-shirts. The anti-sameness slogan became sameness merch. If you want one perfect irony to open or close the Austin section, that’s it

If you’ve read this far, you probably think I’m extremely cynical. And you’d be right. But I’m not. The cynic, as Oscar Wilde said, knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.

So what do we do to fight against this growingly concerning trend? I think the answer is very simple: serendipity.

Stop looking for the restaurants with the highest Beli rating or OpenTable stars. Go off the beaten path. Walk into a spot with no context. Order a coffee, talk to a barista. Ask for local recs.

We’ve been able to optimize everything and its slowly killing us

There’s an ancillary benefit to supporting an anti-slop culture too. And its within yourself.

Steven Bartlett got dragged for this a few weeks ago. One night of drinking set him into a tailspin equivalent to a first time chemo patient.

Optimization to the extreme has made us extremely fragile creatures. Imagine going from sleeping outside and killing bears to being upset when the air conditioning is off by one degree Fahrenheit.

So the next time you’re planning a drink with your friends. Don’t. Just go hit the local wine bar, find a spot with a line, talk to a stranger and ask for local recs.

Water flowing in a stream erodes rocks in its way. If all we do is chase highly rated slop, we will end up in a culture that has no history.

Edges define an object. Don’t lose them.

-Baron

But theres a certain danger that degrees carry. See, when you enter University, the President sits the incoming class down and gives them the pep talk. “You can do anything! Believe in yourself and work hard, and nothing will be of impasse.”

Four grueling years later, after too many late nights turned into early mornings, you emerge from your cave. A blinding light shines down on you and a degree is thrust into your hand. The same leader you saw 4 years ago comes back and says “Congratulations! Now go change the world.”

Even though the feelings to follow this event are euphoric, its important to remember that some things really cannot be taught in a classroom. Mastering the design process requires doing.

Lesson One: There’s No Solution Manual.

I know this sounds so cliché but hear me out…theres a good lesson here!

It was 2016, and every tech editor was speculating that 360 video was about to take off. Wanting to be ahead of the curve, I decided to find an affordable solution to filming 360 video.

The unfortunate truth was that no consumer-level 360 degree video solution existed yet. I could buy 16 GoPros and mortgage my house, or buy a professional unit using my firstborn. After a few hours of research, a question popped into my head:

I was an engineer, why not build one?

School conditions you to find the solution to problems. At times, this could be an actual solution manual. It may, however, just be a generally accepted principle. Classes teach us theres always a ‘right’ way to do things and a ‘wrong’ way. And there are never questions that we can’t answer.

I fell back on this principle and started Googling for home built, pre existing solutions. I stumbled upon a few options of 3D printed rigs. I found some templates, downloaded them, and started printing. (Did I mention I had a 3D printer? I was such a nerd.)

Eventually, USPS delivered the Chinese ‘action’ cameras and I assembled everything. I was ecstatic and excited to try out my new creation!

The two main problems with this rig were:

1. There was no way to remotely control the cameras. This meant individually powering each camera on, and ‘clapping’ to sync 6 clips in premiere. It was a NIGHTMARE. My mac almost caught fire.

2. Like an idiot, I hadn’t done my due diligence with the cameras. , There was no way to change the aspect ratio. I was filming in 16:9, not 4:3. The frames were too narrow in places and it wasn’t overlapping enough to make seamless 360 video.

I had failed.

Feeling defeated, I headed back to do the only thing I knew how to do, GOOGLE AGAIN.

A second attempt landed me right back where I started. Different mount, similar issues. This trial was much better. The hexagonal shape gave enough overlap for some decent stitching. But, I wasn’t satisfied with this form of ‘360 degree video’.

Lesson Two: Theres a beautiful art to Bodging, and sometimes Poetic License is ok.

Tom Scott gives the best description of “bodging” that one ever could. Its the mashing of two separate ideas or entities to make them work together, usually in a clumsy way. Round peg, square hole.

After some more googling, I decided that the problem was not with my original rig, but the cameras! I upgraded to some pricier Chinese cameras. These ones had the 4:3 aspect ratio, as well as wifi! I set to work at slotting them into my original design. Thanks to some nifty open source firmware by Stephen Jones, I was able to reverse the camera’s wifi. By default, modern-day cameras act as a hotspot that your phone connects to. This mod let me convert these hotspots into listeners. I could then create a hotspot from my phone, and connect all 6 cameras at once. Then, with the click of one button, I could start and stop recording with ease.

I used a 3D printed rig from one site, and some open-sourced software from somewhere else. Bodging these two together caused something that was somewhat stable-looking. My lollipop monstrosity worked. But was I satisfied? Hardly! My bodged together pseudo masterpiece didn’t feel like it was the best thing I could make.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not advocating for cheating, plagiarism, or copycat of any sort. But sometimes, bodging smaller solutions creates your big solution. It’s okay to admit that someone else has done it well, and there might not be a way to do it better.

School, unfortunately, teaches us this is wrong. Shortcuts, quick memory tricks, or alternate methods are often frowned upon. This is most likely done so engineers can grasp core concepts. After-all, who is going to solve a 3rd order differential equation without Matlab in the real world? Regardless, its important to not let this sort of thinking indoctrinate our problem solving strategies.

Lesson Three: Think small.

No, Smaller. Keep going. Okay, there you go.

Discouraged, I arrived back at my drawing board. I had accomplished my goal. My camera was working, waterproof, and the footage was stitchable. But it didn’t feel like victory to me.

I kept investigating the concept cameras that were soon to come to market. The majority of action-cameras were two fisheye lenses back to back. Could I make something like that?

Turns out, these Chinese cameras have a pretty standard lens mount. You can actually buy a few different lenses and swap out the ones on your unit. What if I fired up OnShape, and threw together a back-to-back idea?

A few days later, more Chinese product showed up on my doorstep. I finished the CAD and my printer set to work. The result was incredible. I had made seamless video that only required some simple back-to-back stitching of 2 clips!

This might not be school’s fault, but we often think “that can’t be the solution, its too easy.” This kind of thinking tends to get in the way to seeing the ultimate solution. If the problem seems too easy to solve, it is.

Lesson Four: Sometimes the long road is necessary.

Its natural to feel like shit when you see the shortcut you should have taken, so don’t feel bad about it.

I know this seems to contradict the last point. Sometimes we end up taking the long way because there is no other way to get there. We’re taught to master subjects in one go. This is reinforced with tests, quizzes, and grades. If we don’t execute 100% every time, our academic standing suffers. The reality of the real-world is that most of the time, we need to try and fail…a lot. In this failure we learn things about the process that we never could have learned another way. Stop thinking of failure as the by-product of success. Start thinking of it as a necessity for success.

“Failure is an option here. If things are failing, you’re not innovating enough” -Elon Musk

Keep building, keep dreaming, and keep failing.

-Baron

While we didn’t necessarily agree on everything (benefits of WFH, productivity loss, etc.), we did agree on one core point: rarely do professions mandate 100% attendance unless it’s crucial to the job.

Practically speaking, unless you’re a receptionist, have a hands-on position (mechanic or doctor), or carry the keys to the office, you’re likely going to be offered some form of work-from-home incentive with your employment offer.

In fact, it seems even receptionist jobs may not be safe from the onslaught of WFH. Recently a Miami hotel went viral for outsourcing the front desk to India via telecommunications equipment. Perhaps the individual wasn’t at ‘home’ per-se, but it did spark discourse about redefining roles that are traditionally thought of as being ‘boots on the ground’.

And if you think about it, from an employer’s perspective, it makes a lot of economic sense.

Fewer total bodies means less square footage on the lease, obviously. By rotating employees in and out on a hybrid space, you can effectively 3–4x your usable office space in any given week without paying one cent more.

But there are secondary benefits beyond a smaller footprint that have the Mckinsey consultants salivating. Fewer parking spaces, less water for toilet flushes, less pizza for the parties, a smaller & more affordable coffee machine lease….the list could go on forever.

By spinning ‘work from home’ from being confined to your isolated prison into an employee empowerment initiative (after all, think of your FREEDOM!), companies have been successful in silently and sneakily passing on once-immovable fixed overhead costs to their employees without them being the wiser.

And the drawbacks to the employer for WFH seem to be pretty concrete and explored. Yes, its been undoubtably proven that productivity sinks as fewer bodies attend the office, somewhere in the range of 10–20%. But if the fixed costs are reduced more than that 20% drop in productivity, then does it really matter?

As for the ancillary issues? Employee mental health, retention, or office culture? Those effects may not be known for years and are too hard to track anyway. So why care?

It’s not my intention to paint a bleak future of remote work, or to try and convince you the idea is sinister. Admittedly, remote work has enabled people to live happier and fuller lives. And the overall benefits to the individual may outweigh the drawbacks, though only time will tell.

Losing Where we CAN Work

However, the biggest issue I’ve found with WFH is that, since COVID, we’ve put ourselves on a trajectory from which there is no return. As companies abandoned their space in droves, Developers and Landlords (who also tend to reduce ideas to numbers) realized they had an issue: Traditional office Space demand was cratering.

Armed with a problem and determined to find a solution that worked for no-one, real estate holders turned to space transition. If everyone was to work from home, then why not convert the office space into the home, or at least home-adjacent amenities?

Take 1 Saint Clair West, for example. The owners determined that demolishing a historic and rather large 37 storey office building at Yonge & St Clair (With a subway directly below), was not financially viable (or that was the PR story…it’s far more likely that it was not feasible).

The developer, Slate Asset Management, enlisted architect firm Gensler to repurpose the building as a vibrant mixed-use development.

Since the pandemic, there’s been roughly 70 Toronto office buildings assessed for conversion suitability to a variety of uses, including Condominium, wellness, retail, medical, and more. About 25–30% were found to be plausible candidates.

Given that Toronto has about 74 million square feet of office space in its downtown core, I don’t think we’re witnessing a renaissance of any kind. No, we don’t need picket lines outside the Atrium on Bay with employees shouting “Save our Office!”

But the prominent examples and thought-experiments we are seeing are indicating one core tenet: Office space is not returning to the way it once was.

We may not see the effects tomorrow, or even next year. But in 5–10 years, real estate experts are predicting that the supply of new office space will dwindle significantly, to try and keep in line with that declining demand.

Death of The Third Place?

It’s impossible to have a conversation regarding return to office without also bringing up the concept of the third place.

If you’re not familiar with the third place, its this concept that every happy human should have a space that isn’t home, and isn’t work. These spaces should be familiar, frequently visited, and give the belonger a sense of community beyond utilitarianism.

Ideally, the third place should be built around casual connection and optional activity. Not every facility will be seen as a third place to everyone, but everyone should see somewhere as their third place.

To everyone, the venue will be different. But generally, coffee shops, pubs, libraries, bookstores, gyms, etc. can all be safely considered a third place for some section of the community.

Blurring the Lines

As home spaces shrink, the work tends to shift from being ‘at home’ to ‘at the third place’. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it starts to blur the lines between business and pleasure, and converts these third places into…1 and 1/2 places?

Third place puritans may disagree. There are those that argue that a true third place cannot be a place of living or a place where work is done. I don’t necessarily agree with this line of thinking, because doing so would require a fourth or potentially fifth place. A third place is what you make it.

And, like all zeitgeist, third places can shift and grow with the community around it. While traditional media loves to run pieces about how the third place is dying, perspective would argue that the third place has simply morphed into something less recognizable. It’s even going online.

Serendipity Please

Notwithstanding the resurgence of the third place, importance should be placed on re-prioritizing the idea of serendipity, finding a pleasurable experience by happenstance.

The largest issue with re-creating serendipity is that we’ve programmed it out of our world. Menus are posted online, event information is fully described, there’s even a Google indicator to estimate how busy a particular spot is before leaving the comfort of your couch.

The only way to be serendipitous is to go back offline. We are already seeing this in the dating world, where users are tired of swiping and clicking, only to chat and get lost in cyberspace.

Popular reformed dating app turned irl matchmaker FIRST ROUNDS ON ME tried to solve this by creating a physical space in which we could actually start to revive the idea of the third place.

The idea is to provide membership-based access to a coffee shop, hangout spot, and community where natural connection can just happen. The space can host people before, during, or after working hours, and they occasionally host nights with a specific intention (i.e. a singles night).

This third place trend is creeping back into living as well. As the actual living space shrinks, emphasis is placed on the immediate amenities surrounding the space traditionally defined as ‘home’.

In Miami, FLOW House, the latest project by Adam Neumann (yes, THAT WeWork Adam Neumann) is taking direct aim at this concept by integrating wellness into living. The buildings amenities (apparently) feature a yoga studio, sauna, cold plunge, and more.

This points to a larger trend in the health and wellness space. OTHERSHIP’s success in Toronto and New York coupled with its ambitious plans for a 10,000 s.f. wellness-focused facility on the upper east side illustrate just how desperate people are to get out of their one bedroom apartment and re-engage in community.

How Office Space Can Learn from the Third Place

In 2026, we’re starting to see studies that disprove the theory that office space is a thing of the past. Productivity improves, employee retention improves, and overall general wellbeing improves when workspaces are clearly defined rather than blurred, though your mileage may vary.

The issue is, no one WANTS to return to the office full-time. Let’s face it, corporate America of the 90s and 2000’s did a fantastic job at painting a truly dystopian picture of office life.

This is the second time in a month I’ve mentioned the movie Office Space, not because its an incredibly funny and entertaining movie, but also because Mike Judge did an incredible job at depicting suburban corporate nightmare land.

The very plot of the movie revolves around the idea that the protagonist and his friends lead a semi-revolt around the office with a desire to never return. (Filmed in 1999, but oh so timeless.)

So HOW do we solve the problem of willpower? We bring back spaces people want to be in.

Part 1: Make Offices Beautiful Again

It’s often easier to look backward than it is to look forward. Office space wasn’t always grey walls, drop ceilings, and cubicles. It was, at a time, and in some places, beautiful to be in.

The SC Johnson Administration Building, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, is a perfect example. In addition to being the perfect next set for a Wes Anderson movie, it features a ‘lilypad’ design, naturally drawing the eye up and making them aware of the space. The habitants feel as though they are under the surface of the pond and not working on Ziploc advertisements.

You might also recognize the layers of glass and cantilevered walkways, and massive open atrium of the Bell Works building in Holmden, NJ. The building was featured as being the headquarters of “Lumon Industries”…the fictional employer from the Apple TV Show, Severance.

One final example, and looking closer to home, would be the Evergreen space at the Don-Valley Brickworks. Not only does this space feature expansive halls and community collaboration spots, but it also incorporates the idea of biophilia, harping on the concept that humans want to be around plants and trees (touch grass).

Part 2: Make Offices Functional Again

An office should be more than just a place to work. Employees should go from feeling like cogs in the corporate machine, to members of a society. It should really feel like Bay Area 2006 once again. Here are a few examples:

• Google — St. John’s Terminal (NYC): described explicitly as meant to lure workers back, with extensive amenities; ENR reports ~26% of space dedicated to amenities, including fitness/medical, cafés, lounges, auditorium/events hubs.

• Amazon Spheres (Seattle): biophilic “nature as amenity” workspace; Amazon describes it as a natural oasis and a different way to work.

• Salesforce “Ohana Floors” (multiple towers): top-of-building community/event amenity floors are a signature part of their workplace strategy (good “amenity as culture” example).

So, what’s stopping why aren’t developers doing this? Same reason people don’t do anything they could: its freaking Expensive.

Office construction costs have climbed materially over the past several years, particularly in major North American markets. According to Turner & Townsend’s International Construction Market Survey (ICMS), the cost to build a high-rise prestige office in New York City was approximately US$573 per square foot in 2018, rising to about US$627 per square foot in 2021.

By 2024, premium high-rise office projects were reported at roughly US$990 per square foot.

The price jump is simply a symptom of higher costs across the board. Post-pandemic material inflation, labour pressures, higher financing costs, and elevated performance standards.

Where to From Here?

If companies can reduce their footprint, shift overhead onto employees, and maintain “acceptable” productivity numbers, there’s little short-term financial incentive to build beautiful, human-centric offices. Especially when construction costs are pushing toward $1,000 per square foot in major markets. The spreadsheet does not reward grandeur.

But culture does.

The companies that win the next decade will understand something simple: space is strategy. You cannot demand presence in a place that offers nothing in return. If work is going to compete with home, with the gym, with the café, with the third place, it has to be intentional. It has to be differentiated. It has to feel worth leaving for.

The future of the office isn’t full-time attendance or permanent exile to the spare bedroom. It’s selective gravity. Offices that function like civic spaces. Like creative monasteries. Like places where serendipity is possible again.

We are not witnessing the death of the office.

We are witnessing the death of the mediocre one.

And the next chapter will belong to whoever is bold enough to build something people actually want to walk into.