Jony Ive once said: "Who here would actually want to spend time in a conference room? I can’t think of a more soulless and depressing place.” In their heyday, Apple’s design team used to meet in a team member’s living room once per week. Looking back on it, I swear you can feel the fruits of that ritual in the products Apple released. Think of the click-wheel on the original iPod, the sleek futurism of the original iPhone, or the theatrical elegance of opening up a new MacBook. I doubt that joy could’ve been dreamed up from under the fluorescent lighting of a sleek corporate boardroom. We know our spaces shape our thinking, but our actions betray this obvious truth. It’s a strange feature of our modern world that we doubt the mind-body connection between the spaces we inhabit and the thoughts we produce in those spaces. Take churches. We once built grand cathedrals with vaulted ceilings where light and sound reverberated in ways that awakened a divine connection with us. Now we build square boxes in strip malls. The ornamentation is gone. At some churches, you won’t even find a cross on the walls. Stained glass windows, too, have been replaced with LED screens of the sort you’d see at Coachella. Sometimes I wonder if God is dead because we killed him with bad architecture.