How do you make a great office? Step one, poison the pot plants
Have we reached peak pot plant? Over recent weeks, with my The Urbanist hard hat on, I have visited a lot of new office developments across London and in every lobby (or 3D render if the project is still at hard-hat stage) you are greeted by a jumble of plants arranged in a bid to create a this-is-a-cool-place-to-work vibe. Except, it doesn’t.
The first problem is the actual greenery. Over time people have discovered a group of plants that can survive despite erratic watering and a lack of light. Contractors call this waxy-leaved category “set and forget”. Trouble is, they look too perfect, you might as well just get plastic plants and be done with it.
And while I know that there’s a lot of talk about biophilia, how just seeing a leaf can make the grimmest of people happy again, I’m not buying it. Taking care of plants is what’s good for the soul, tending to their needs, getting your hands dirty with soil, pruning and enticing – bringing those that stumble back from the brink. It’s why a real dog is better than a stuffed toy. It’s why in the end you won’t replace the other half with, well, use your imagination. It’s the taking care of something with real needs that matters.
The best part about the various tours has been getting to pick up an industry’s lingo and start peppering it into your own vernacular as the day progresses. “Remind me, is this Cat A or Cat A plus?” You can ask to visit the “super loos”, which in British property speak simply means that the sink and the toilet are in the same cubicle.
But my real obsession has been with “end of journey”. The first time someone asked whether I was interested in the end of journey I panicked and wondered if they were booking me into Dignitas. But no, end of journey is a posh way of saying bike rack. Well, bike rack plus.
London is increasingly a city of cyclists, which includes me when it isn’t raining. It’s also a city of bike thieves. So bicycle parking is a concern. And if you are an all-weather devotee, so is showering, drying off your rain-splattered cagoule, and lockers. This week I have seen an end of journey that comes with a daily white-towel service, where there are hair straighteners even in the fellas section. And a clever bike-repair post from which dangled numerous tools. But often one thing was missing – bikes.
End of journey only makes sense if it marries up with start of journey. In London, lots of people live in apartments where there’s nowhere to safely store a bike. Last year a Transport for London (TfL) report said that there had been a 43 per cent jump in the number of daily trips taken on two wheels, to 1.5 million (this number is all encompassing, so includes couriers, for example, not just commuters). Some 10 per cent of that total was now done on dockless e-bikes. And here’s an interesting change: many of their users are no longer just youngsters or tourists but lawyers, bankers, chefs and architects. And they don’t care about end of journey. But me, I’m all in.
Crossing the city, seeing what it has coming to market or what has lingered empty for more than a year, has been a fascinating exercise and a helpful primer ahead of Monocle’s appearance at Mipim, the world’s largest real-estate event, in March (the full team from The Urbanist will be in Cannes with our very own radio studio). And also because the March issue of Monocle includes a special property section.
But before then, Monocle will also be at the World Governments Summit in Dubai this week with not only our own radio studio but also a Monocle Café. If you are attending the event, come say hello to us. Sadly, I don’t have anywhere for you to park your bike.
To read more columns by Andrew Tuck, click here.
