Who's Really in Control: You or Your Home?

When I began writing my book, Design Therapy, back in 2021, I had a fairly straightforward ambition. After spending more than three decades designing and renovating homes, I wanted to put some of what I'd learned into a book that ordinary homeowners could actually use. Not another oversized coffee-table book filled with beautiful interiors that most people could only dream of owning, but something practical that might change the way people thought about their homes. I completed the first draft in less than a year, although the difficult part wasn't finding things to write about. It was figuring out what the book was really trying to say. The interior design world already has more than its fair share of beautiful books. Walk into almost any bookstore and you'll find shelves filled with spectacular homes, perfectly styled furniture, and photographs of rooms that look as though nobody has ever spilled coffee, misplaced a television remote, or left a pair of shoes by the front door. There's nothing wrong with those books, but I wanted Design Therapy to accomplish something different. I wanted readers to understand why certain homes make us feel relaxed while others leave us feeling unsettled, why some kitchens naturally bring families together while others discourage conversation, and why a room that looks perfectly attractive in a photograph might be surprisingly uncomfortable to live in. More importantly, I wanted to explore how our physical surroundings influence what we actually do every day.

Over the next several years, the manuscript went through revisions, refinements, and a fair amount of rethinking. What began as a collection of design observations gradually developed into a broader examination of the relationship between our homes, our habits, and our well-being. Earlier this year, while continuing to refine the book, I began thinking about a simple relationship I'd observed throughout my career: Beauty + Function = Better Habits. And better habits can help us become better versions of ourselves. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that this was what I'd been trying to explain all along. We tend to think of interior design in terms of colours, materials, furniture, lighting, and architectural details. But those physical elements also influence our behaviour, often without our consciously realizing it. Consider a living room where every chair faces a large television. It's hardly surprising that watching television becomes the room's default activity. Turn one comfortable chair toward a window, place a reading lamp beside it, and suddenly you've created an inviting alternative. Or consider a kitchen with an island where family members can sit, talk, and participate while dinner is being prepared. Compare that with a kitchen where the cook is isolated from everyone else. Both kitchens might be attractive and functional, but they encourage very different kinds of interaction. Somewhere in all this thinking, I began to recognize that there was a much bigger idea hiding beneath the individual design principles I'd been writing about.

That's when the analogy occurred to me: YOUR HOME FUNCTIONS LIKE SILENT SOFTWARE™. Think about the software operating inside your computer. It's made up of countless lines of code that determine how the system behaves. Most of us never see those instructions, but they influence almost everything the computer does. Our homes work in a surprisingly similar way. Windows, doorways, furniture arrangements, lighting, storage, and circulation paths can all function like lines of code. They quietly encourage certain activities while making others less convenient or less appealing. A television positioned as the focal point of a room might encourage more screen time. A comfortable reading corner might encourage more reading. A cluttered workspace might make concentration more difficult, while a thoughtfully organized one might help us get into the flow of creative work. The exciting part is that we can rewrite that code. We don't necessarily need a bigger house, a major renovation, or an extravagant decorating budget. Sometimes moving a chair, changing the lighting, reorganizing a room, or reconsidering where we place our furniture can influence the habits we develop. The more I explored the idea, the more I realized that Design Therapy wasn't simply a book about improving our homes. It was about using design to improve the way we live. After more than 30 years in the interior design business, I finally had a way of explaining something I'd been observing throughout my career.

Having finally developed a way to explain the idea, I began wondering whether it might resonate with an audience beyond the world of interior design. TEDx seemed like an interesting possibility. I'd actually spoken at TEDxBCIT back in 2016, when I delivered a presentation called The Human Advantage: How to Stay One Step Ahead of the Machines. That talk explored the changes artificial intelligence might bring to our lives and how humans could remain relevant in an increasingly automated world. Ten years later, I found myself hoping to discuss another kind of software, although this time the subject was much closer to my professional experience. When I applied to TEDx West Vancouver, I had no particular expectation of being selected. TEDx events can attract hundreds of hopeful applicants, and there are only so many places available on the programme. Like many other applicants, I submitted my idea and waited to see what would happen. I was pleasantly surprised when I learned that I'd made the shortlist, and considerably more surprised when I discovered that I'd actually been selected as one of the 14 presenters. Suddenly, the idea I'd spent months developing wasn't simply something I could discuss in my book or newsletter. I had to turn it into a compelling presentation that could be delivered in approximately six minutes. Considering that I'd just spent five years developing a book containing nearly 58,000 words, reducing its central message to a six-minute presentation was going to be quite a challenge. And, as luck would have it, much of the preparation would have to take place while I was travelling through Europe on holiday.

I'll be presenting Your Home Functions Like Silent Software at the Kay Meek Arts Centre in West Vancouver on Sunday, November 15, alongside 13 other speakers with some fascinating ideas of their own. The programme includes a speaker discussing the experience of living with 21 distinct personalities, another exploring the advantages of building and living in smaller houses, and someone questioning whether homeownership is really everything we've been led to believe. I find that last subject particularly intriguing, considering that I've spent much of my career helping people improve the homes they own. If you're interested in ideas about housing, lifestyle, human behaviour, and the many different ways we experience the world, I think you'll find plenty to enjoy. There's also a $20 early-bird ticket discount available until November 1 using promotional code TEDXGV20. You can find more information and purchase tickets at tedxwestvancouver.com. Looking back, it's rather remarkable to think that something I began writing in 2021 has led to this opportunity five years later. I certainly didn't set out to write a book so that I could speak at TEDx. I simply wanted to share what I'd learned about making homes work better for the people who live in them. Next week, I'll share what happened after I received that acceptance, including the unexpected challenge of preparing a TEDx presentation while travelling abroad, the discipline of memorizing a six-minute script, and what I've learned about turning an idea into something that can connect with a live audience.