Coworking as a design style (or Why that beanbag is not just for comfort)
By: Filipa Pajević
Tags: Coworking, Work, Workplace, Design, Culture

Written by Filipa Pajević and Dragana Panić

Photo credit: iStock/Getty Images

The benefits of coworking as a style of work are the subject of ongoing inquiry and debate. These benefits arguably include (and are not limited to) all the usual suspects: productivity, creativity, and innovation. Digital and digitally mediated work (either routine tasks that have been digitized, or idiosyncratic tasks that are digitally supported) are especially poised to gain by adopting this style of working. On the one hand, coworking is an antidote to the boredom of constricting, highly regimented jobs. On the other, it is an alternative to the isolation of freelance and remote workers, who spend less time (or no time at all) at their employer’s place of work. Employees, employers and self-made entrepreneurs anticipate positive results: individual workers will perform better — better, together — and share their resources to come up with innovative solutions to help their businesses.

However, coworking as a style of work has also become a style of space. The coworking space, with its exposed brick or concrete walls and metallic substructures, long desks, bar chairs and designer coffee, is nowadays a recognizable style, or rather a popular design plan. What is more, the combination of these coworking styles — the work and the space — help transform the workplace into a service that caters to both the bored full-time and the isolated part-time employee. Certainly, if their proliferation across cities is any indication, coworking spaces are a rather successful business model.

Indeed, coworking seems to be growing into a splintering market, with “new” types of coworking spaces satisfying varying demands (coworking spaces for women, coworking spaces for social justice warriors, coworking spaces for hackers and coders… the list goes on). What is more, they are spreading like wildfire, occupying spaces of various shapes and sizes, and undoubtedly contributing to gentrifying forces as a result. WeWork, for example, is now the largest private office tenant in London and NYC, and Spaces (Regus’s answer to WeWork) is adding new locations across Eastern Europe and the Americas as we speak. The number of coworking spaces worldwide in 2015 was 7,805 — last year it was 16,599[1]. Coworking spaces spread because they promote themselves as accessible, communal and easily replicable. In other words, they are true to coworking as a style of work and cater to the coworking type of worker. Seeing as both are embedded in the design of coworking spaces, coworking as a design style is worth interrogating.

So what can coworking as a design style tell us about the changing nature of work, working, and workplaces? What is more, what can it tell us about who consumes these coworking spaces and why? Finally, can it offer clues as to how coworking has become a resource for corporate exploitation?

The changing nature of work

The fundamental characteristic and differentia specifica of the coworking space is its break from tradition — the fragmented and defined, in favour of the communal — the functionally integrated. Coworking spaces are “hybrid spaces” that cater to multiple needs — work, rest, antihierarchical socialization — in other words, they blur the lines that separate the personal from the professional and the employer from the employee. Workers can perform their work at long coworking desks or bar tables; they can sit on bar stools, stability balls, beanbags, you name it. They can make confidential calls in phonebooths and get comfortable at one of the diner booths if their work requires prolonged concentration. Meeting spaces are glass aquariums with moveable walls to accommodate a party of any size. Coworking spaces are transparent and accessible — and they have the relaxed, optimistic atmosphere of a café. Working here is not a chore. It is creative and it is fun.

Digital work has less need for a designated, purpose-built facility. Spaces no longer have to be tailor-made to suit a digitally-supported sector; rather, spaces need to be adequately equipped to temporarily support a work-related activity. This means that any architectural form (irrespective of its original function) can be put to use with minimal changes to its basic infrastructure. The objective is to make spaces amenable to a variety of uses (and users) by making them as flexible and as cost-efficient as possible. This is why coworking spaces can be found in former factories, warehouses, train stations, in exhibition halls, cinemas… What is more, they occupy any space whose principal function (be it production, distribution or entertainment) has been “switched off” by modern technologies. This also feeds nicely into the “breaking free from tradition” thesis: by transforming mono-functional spaces into multi-functional ones, coworking spaces inject novelty and rebellion into spaces of rigidity and limitation. In other words, coworking celebrates the integrated, communal vibe that most organizational structures lack. But herein lies the tension: as a temporary antidote to boredom and as an alternative to isolation, to what extent do coworking spaces indeed produce an integrated, communal workplace? A recent study out of the Harvard Business School shows an inverse relationship between open, coworking spaces and collaboration between colleagues. Not only is there less face-to-face interaction (by 70%), but a rise in digitally-mediated communication (by 50%)[2]. In other words, coworkers would rather use FaceTime than actually engage face-to-face. If this is indeed the case, why do coworking spaces remain so popular?

The changing nature of working

Coworking spaces are often promoted as the meeting places for digital nomads — the hyper-connected, mobile and flexible workers, whose work can be performed from anywhere and at any time. These workers operate across multiple geographical and virtual scales — they are, to use Paul Virilio’s term, “temporarily omnipresent”. Everything is in constant flux, and space — as a result — becomes temporary and transitory so as to reflect and support an increasingly fluid set of values and practices. Coworking spaces are the spatial expression of this fluidity.

To achieve this effect, coworking spaces need to be stripped of a function and/or identity — they must become what Marc Augé’s called “non-places”. Each design element must involve, or be shared by, anyone and everyone — coworking spaces must be universal. What is more, they must not be binding: the digital nomad works flexibly, both spatially and temporally. Workers must be able to use the space whenever and however they want. This is why when it comes to coworking as a design choice, the aesthetic is often a jumble, an odd combination of the rigid and the playful — the sandbox in a warehouse.

Spaces favored by coworking providers are usually derelict, industrial sites — symbols of the Fordist style of work. At the time of the crisis of manufacturing, these spaces were often appropriated for culture and shelter — artists and squatters. This appropriation has been perceived as innovative and inspiring, and therefore has been subjected to re-appropriation by wealthier entrepreneurs ever since. Indeed, turning traditional office spaces into cool, lofty workplaces is an expensive affair. Commercial property developers go through great lengths to expose the brick walls, the pipework and the air-ducts that traditional offices tried hard to conceal. But why are these spaces so alluring? Why claim and replicate them? Because in addition to being inspiring and cool, these spaces have traditionally been occupied by temporary visitors. The artist and the squatter — both nomadic, both flexible. However, unlike the digital nomad, this was not by choice but by necessity. The playful décor would have been an attempt to humanize spaces that were never meant to serve as creative spaces, let alone homes. To the digital nomad, this playfulness is an incentive to enjoy work — enjoy being productive.

Indeed, everything from the furniture (beanbags, bar tables, foosball tables…) to the motivational slogans in neon (“Get sh*t done!”, “Do what you love!”, “Get connected!”), is meant to make work seem less stern and more playful. However, what happens when a professional environment is transformed into an arcade? The worker works to be entertained. It is both an attraction and a retention strategy. Why would anyone ever want to leave?

Design, in this case, is a tool — a means by which the coworking space provider can visually stimulate a desirable, accessible and recognizable universal culture. It is important to remember that designers follow a directive, so even if the end result is meant to be relaxed, accessible and organic, the process is anything but.

The Coworking Culture

Coworking enjoys its popularity because it benefits from and feeds into a culture that expands on the basis of a visual style that speaks to a particular brand (i.e. Google, Facebook, Apple…). In other words, it speaks to trends or what is currently en vogue, and promotes the values of its apostles through social media. For this reason, coworking spaces often mimic the Google aesthetic, but also make it accessible to the general public. While Google workplaces remain exclusive to their employees, the coworking space is an accessible experience. (Read: Instagram worthy.)

By remaining accessible, the coworking space promotes itself as the ultimate mainstream #goal.

Because of their transitory, temporary, and universal character, coworking spaces are also a popular real estate play — an effective means of extracting rent from vacated sites until a more permanent tenant is found and secured. This is why coworking spaces can also be found in more traditional office buildings. Developers and companies alike are introducing coworking as a tool to balance rising real estate costs. Ergo, coworking spaces are not only a good choice for the bored, isolated worker — but also a reasonable cost-effective strategy for a budget-minded employer.

At the same time, coworking spaces have started to occupy prestigious heritage sites. Spaces is unveiling 100,000 square feet of coworking space at the Chrysler Building this summer. How can we interpret that move? Is it about injecting novelty into tradition, or is it about establishing coworking as a prestigious style of working —and coworking spaces as a lucrative business model?

To conclude, a beanbag is not just for comfort. It is also a symbol of spontaneity, flexibility and playfulness that signals a profound change in how we view and experience work and workplaces. However, coworking as a design style shows that contrary to popular belief, there is nothing spontaneous about these choices — coworking is a planned, premeditated work experience that is carefully curated so as to extract the most of out its user and the space that it occupies.

Filipa Pajević is a PhD Candidate at the School of Urban Planning, McGill University in Montreal, Canada. She studies changes in ways of working and their spatiality.

Dragana Panić is an interior designer. She was a professor of design at the College of Fine and Applied Arts in Belgrade, Serbia.

[1] https://www.coworkingresources.org/blog/key-figures-coworking-growth

[2] https://www.hbs.edu/faculty/Pages/item.aspx?num=54899