Architecture as Science - How Walls Affect Our Brains

In the 1950s, American virologist Jonas Salk was at a dead end. He was working on a polio vaccine, but in a dark, basement lab at the University of Pittsburgh, he suffered a cognitive block.

In search of a solution, the exhausted scientist traveled to Italy, to the Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi. The unique architectural features of the 13th-century monastery – the play of light, geometry and profound silence – opened his mind . It was to this environment that Salk attributed the breakthrough that later made the creation of the vaccine possible.

He concluded: if the environment can hinder or enhance our cognitive functions, then architecture is a crucial part of human health and scientific progress.

For centuries, the success of a building was measured by Vitruvius' triad: strength, utility, and beauty. However, the 21st century has brought a fundamental shift, called the "neuro-spatial revolution."

Neuroarchitecture views buildings not as passive containers but as active biological stimulators . The question of how space shapes the mind is no longer a philosophical speculation—it is now a matter of clinical measurement. We can measure the “feel of a building” through biomarkers such as neuronal activity and stress hormones.

But how does this happen technically?

When we enter a room, we don't just "see" it, but our brains instantly process data about safety and emotion.

The main character in this process is the Parahippocampal Place Area (PPA) – a brain region that acts as a “spatial scanner” . Studies confirm that the PPA is much more active when a person looks at an architectural space than when they look at a face or an object. This area analyzes the geometry of the walls and the volume of the room, thereby creating a structural framework for our experience. Simply put, our brains are evolutionarily programmed to constantly “read” architecture.

Have you ever felt heaviness in a room with low ceilings, or vice versa – lightness near tall columns? There is a scientific explanation for this.

In neuroarchitecture, there is a theory of “bodily simulation,” which is based on mirror neurons. These neurons are activated not only when we act, but also when we observe the environment. When we see a stretched column, our body “feels” this tension; when we see a heavy roof, we subconsciously feel the compression. We, in effect, co-experience the architecture, which creates a deep emotional connection with the building.

Design elements are directly related to our survival instincts. For example, the brain has an evolutionary bias towards rounded shapes.

In nature, sharp objects (thorns, rocks) are often associated with danger. Therefore, when we see aggressive, sharp corners in the interior, the amygdala – the fear processing center – is activated in our brain. Conversely, round and organic shapes activate the “reward centers” and make us feel safe.

Jonas Salk's story and modern neuroscience lead to the same conclusion: we don't live in buildings, we live in dialogue with them. We already know that high ceilings activate abstract thinking , and rounded shapes calm our amygdala, but that's just the beginning.

The ultimate horizon of this field is “neuroadaptive architecture.” This is a future where buildings are no longer static, but rather become “living organisms” that sense our state. Imagine an environment that operates on a “feedback loop”: a building “sees” that our stress levels are rising and responds by dimming the lights or releasing a soothing scent.

As architect Philip Beasley puts it, buildings must be transformed into “empathic membranes” that regulate our biological state. This places a whole new responsibility on the architect. We become not just stewards of brick and concrete, but also “guardians of the neural and hormonal health” of people.