What Is Biophilic Office Design & How Can Metal Mesh Help?

At its most basic level, biophilic design is any created space or object that has been at least partially inspired by nature. It has been made to replicate a feature or mood of something natural. At the least convincing, biophilic office design means an arrangement of barely watered houseplants along a windowsill, and at its very best, it is an entire building designed around the idea that people prosper and do their best work when not in a space that is completely disconnected from the outside world. They are more motivated, have more energy, better mental health and don’t hate going into the office. Or so the studies say.

The term itself comes from the word ‘biophilia’ as first written by biologist Edward O. Wilson, to describe man’s innate pull towards the natural world, no matter how advanced we become. This, of course, is the exact opposite of what many urban jobs look like: dusty commutes on the tube (no daylight), lunch at a desk (no fresh air) and plain white walls lit by fluorescent overheads.

In terms of office design, biophilic design seeks to reverse that and bring in a bit of the outside world inside, but in a way that is not disruptive. This could be maximising daylight exposure via oversized windows – and ones that open to allow actual airflow, not AC units – the introduction of natural materials with various textures, the use of plants, or even the design of the building itself, either by replicating the curves of nature, or by opting for a layout that is instinctive rather than productivity-fuelled.

The wellbeing case for this is, frankly, embarrassingly strong. Study after study links biophilic workplaces to lower stress, sharper concentration, and staff who don’t immediately start refreshing LinkedIn the moment they sit down. For employers trying to lure talent back into an office rather than a kitchen table in their pyjamas, that’s not a soft benefit. It’s the entire pitch.

When done properly, biophilic interior design is about more than an aesthetic choice. There is a methodology behind it, which is very much informed by the patterns that we respond to in the natural world. These include:

Direct nature: daylight, plants, water, fresh air. The unglamorous basics that somehow keep getting forgotten.

Natural analogues: materials and patterns that gesture at nature without literally being a tree, an organic mesh texture, a rippling metal finish, that kind of thing.

Prospect and refuge: a bit of open view, paired with a bit of shelter. Humans, like cats, like to see the whole room while sitting somewhere slightly hidden.

Mystery and complexity: spaces that unfold gradually instead of announcing the entire floor plan from the lift doors. A bit of intrigue, basically, rather than a single flat reveal.

And once you know that these concepts exist, it is almost impossible not to start spotting them in offices and public spaces. Modern benches that curve to meet your spine, water features that look like they have grown up out of the ground, the dimming of a light in response to the time of day, all of these have been quietly improving the area that they sit within, doing it so well in fact that they largely go unnoticed.

When we discuss natural materials in architecture, wood, stone or even a living wall are most people’s first answer. It makes sense; they are tactile, come from actual nature and are easy to identify. But as mentioned earlier, biophilic interior design is about a thought as much as a literal style. 

The nature-informed materials shortlist is longer, and vastly more interesting, than you might expect and a fair amount of it isn’t natural at all in the literal sense. Water introduces movement and sound. Cork and wool bring texture underfoot. And increasingly, designers are reaching for metal and mesh to do jobs that timber and stone are, frankly, hopeless at, mainly anything involving light, air, or pattern, three things solid materials are constitutionally bad at providing.

This is precisely the gap most modern offices actually need filled, because most biophilic ambitions eventually run into the unglamorous realities of acoustics, fire regulations, and the fact that nobody wants a literal living wall dripping onto the boardroom table.

Okay, so we know that at first glance, the idea of metal as a natural material may seem paradoxical. It is not, on the face of it, very “nature”. Yet, look a bit closer, and it actually solves several of biophilic design’s trickiest problems with rather more elegance than a tree could manage.

Letting light and air move through a space

are the unglamorous backbone of biophilic design, and woven mesh and expanded mesh are both, conveniently, full of holes. Use either as a partition or ceiling feature, and light filters through rather than slamming into a solid wall and giving up. Simple physics, frequently overlooked.

Creating prospect and refuge without building walls

Open-plan offices are excellent at “prospect” and catastrophic at “refuge”. Stick up a solid wall for some peace and quiet, and you’ve murdered the open, breathable feel everyone was so proud of. Take a metal mesh room divider as an example. It will split the space neatly by screening off a focus pod or a quiet corner, while also letting everyone else see through to the rest of the floor. This duplicity is exactly what allows a space to be both intimate and open, without having to resort to a maze of faceless cubicles.

Living walls and climbing plants need structure too

Living walls get all the Instagram attention while their supporting structure gets none, which is a shame because most of them would collapse without it. Metal mesh makes a discreet, long-lasting frame for climbing or trailing plants to grow against, and once the planting matures, you genuinely can’t see it. All the credit goes to the plants. The mesh, like most good infrastructure, gets none.

Mimicking natural patterns and movement

One of the most underrated elements of biophilia is that it doesn’t actually require anything green. Our water ripple sheet recreates the gentle, shifting movement of water across a solid metal surface, handy for the many offices that would quite like a water feature right up until someone mentions the words “maintenance contract”. Spiral mesh and Alpha Mesh, meanwhile, bring the kind of organic, repeating pattern the brain quietly files under “natural”, regardless of the fact it’s actually metal.

Bringing in natural tones without the maintenance

Timber and stone bring warmth, certainly, along with a faint, lingering anxiety about scuffs, stains, and what the cleaning contractor is doing to them. Finishes like powder coating and anodising replicate those same earthy, natural tones, bronze, brass, soft greens, in a material that shrugs off a decade of office life without complaint.

Adding movement overhead

Ceiling drapery and our Kriskadecor metal chains, or even water ripple sheets can bring a bit of movement and light diffusion to what is normally the most neglected surface in any building. Think of it as a tree canopy; dappled light; the vibe of this, except nobody has to sweep up the leaves.

Bringing the theoretical into reality is the obvious next step, and that is what happened at 58 Mosley Street in Manchester, where the brief, built around the concept of an aviary, called for a reception that felt genuinely welcoming rather than merely expensive. Our Kriskadecor ceiling drapery went in in green and sand tones, creating a centrepiece that diffuses light rather than just hanging there looking decorative, while woven mesh partitions throughout reinforced the airy, layered feel the design was chasing. Not a single leaf required. Thinking of bringing biophilic design into your next project?

Biophilic design may be the latest fad in architecture and interior design, but that doesn’t mean that this evolution is not in it for the long haul. It has the potential to substantially alter how we see our workspaces, and office designers would do well to take note of its profound effects on the workers they are trying to entice back into the workplace.

Biophilic office designs look set to stay, as it poses a simple question that no one else seems to be asking: does my building design make the workers inside feel worse?

And answering that means taking a hard look at what in-person locations are offering us when you take away the dress-down Fridays and discounted coffees. If it feels like a prison at 2.33 pm on a Tuesday afternoon, then something is wrong.

Metal mesh isn’t here to replace timber, stone, or greenery. It’s here to do the jobs they can’t, light, air, pattern, and a sense of openness without sacrificing privacy, while everything else gets to take the credit.

If you’re working on a biophilic office project and fancy talking it through with people who think about this rather more than is strictly healthy, get in touch.