I have become preoccupied with the idea of architect David Dewane’s Eudaimonia Machine that Cal Newport describes in his wonderful book Deep Work. Although I read the book a while ago, the idea of this “machine” has been tickling the back of my mind ever since, particularly as I read and think about innovation. There’s a rather self-serving but effective visualisation of the idea here (pictures, 1000 words, etc) if you are curious about what this machine might look like. The “machine” is no machine at all but rather a conceptual series of interlocked rooms, consisting of:
- chambers (cells in my mind) with soundproof walls and no windows where one can work uninterrupted and with no distractions;
- a “work” room with the usual office accoutrements like whiteboards and desks, where you can work out ideas with colleagues or get admin support;
- a library, with all the catalogued knowledge and retrieval/storage systems necessary for you to do your work. In my mind, these are all “inputs” of some variety so it could also be the place where you might run structured interviews, or focus groups, or host guest speakers and brown-bag lunches
- the salon in which one drinks lots of one’s beverage of choice and discusses, debates, and argues with others about great ideas. Ideally, for me, this is with people from a wide range of backgrounds; and, finally,
- the gallery where the work coming out of the chambers is displayed to spur on yet greater work, create a competitive spirit, inspire, and generally show off the product of the machine.
Eudaimonia is an ancient Greek idea about achieving the highest level of human good so the purpose of the machine is to achieve great work by using these hypothetical rooms as aids to deliver it. Of paramount importance to Mr Newport’s hypothesis (and also what’s in the rear of the “machine”) is the ability to sequester oneself away and think deeply. Mr Newport (who expands conversationally on his ideas in this Q&A) expounds in his book on how certain architectural arrangements such as, for example, the ones at Bell Labs improved the opportunity for collaboration while being set up to allow work to be performed in isolation.
This obviously brings into question whether open plan alone is going to create the innovation many companies still believe it will stimulate.
If we are to do deep work as we must to differentiate ourselves and offer up our greatest personal value, I increasingly subscribe to the idea that all of these rooms are necessary as physical spaces of some sort. But most office locations and even academic institutions do not offer these as consciously interconnected spaces whose purpose has been well thought out for the benefits it may bring to the organisation. I do not get any impression from what I read about building design this is explicitly considered when we think about how work is done within them. Read, for example, this article on the new Apple, Facebook and Google buildings, a critical piece about how the exterior of the buildings occupy their spaces rather than how humans occupy the interior space of the building. Much writing I happen upon about architecture is preoccupied in this manner. I would love to know how the work spaces of the interiors of these new structures from the big tech giants have been configured and how much consideration has been given to that aspect of the architecture. Has it been explicitly considered (as one assumes they must have done) how space is used purposefully for innovative outcomes? And what could we learn from this? This 2013 article about a Facebook office refit, however, is suggestive that even Facebook may have the same (mis?)conceptions about open plan as the rest of us:
“Another urban design strategy was to increase the density of employees by tearing out all of the old private office infrastructure and replacing it with an open environment. Increasing density gives way to additional opportunities for unplanned collaborations, and were something we learned Steve Jobs was fanatic about…”
The machine also has a temporal dimension. To achieve the state of personal eudaimonia, it is necessary for us to spend time in each room, over time. So not only do we need to give consideration to how we create space and place in the physical world to improve the odds of innovation and serendipity occurring, we also need to go back to a kind of creative turn on Taylorism where we examine the balance of our activities to ensure we are feeding our machine for the kinds of outputs we want to see it produce. But in a very different work environment from Taylor’s day, and for quite different reasons.
I had the chance to explain the idea of the Eudaimonia Machine to some colleagues today so it was on my mind as I headed home from the meeting on a rather lengthy commute that involved trains and planes. I am currently reading a set of essays by the architect and writer Denise Scott Brown and, in a moment of splendid circularity, I came upon the following passage in an essay from 1999 entitled The Hounding of the Snark :
“…in designing a building, the unique way two activities or spaces are brought together may give rise to the option of a third: A and B, as they are joined, may allow for C, which would not have been possible had A and B been differently arranged. Sometimes these serendipitous activities and their spaces become the most loved parts of the building. They often occur at junction points in the circulation system where corridors meet, or perhaps opposite a stairway, especially if there is a window and a place for a seat or two. We watch for such opportunities in designing, in our firm’s Lewis Thomas Molecular Biology Laboratory at Princeton, for example, at each end of the building, beyond the lab grid, there is a bulge off the corridor. Here a bay window, window seats, a blackboard and a coffee machine offer scientists a rest, a shift of vision, perhaps a conversation with a colleague.”
I am sure many architects have a great sense of obligation as to how their spaces are used. It’s just sometimes difficult to see in the open plan offices that so many of us now occupy. If we are to improve our skills as collaborators and innovators at both the personal and corporate levels, consideration of our office planning conventions could probably do with a rethink.