Posted in  Relational Cognition Posts   on  July 15, 2026 by  Nigel Rawlins

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At a glance: your working environment is part of your thinking, in three layers

The physical room, the people around you, and the rhythm of your day all shape how well you think.

Interior designer Kay Sargent shows that the built environment is part of your cognition, not a container for it.

Valentine Gatard and Meredith Fuller add the social and temporal layers: the colleagues who spark an idea you wouldn't have had, and the reflection time that good thinking needs.

Knowing whether stimulation calms you or energises you is how you set the room up.

When you leave an organisation, you also leave the environment that supplied all three, so rebuilding them becomes part of the work.

AI belongs inside that system as a tool you place with care, not one you hand your thinking to.

Your desk is part of your thinking equipment, and so are the people you talk to and the time you leave yourself to think.


The place you work in is doing more than holding your laptop. It is part of your cognitive system — a finding from the science of the extended mind that changes the question of where and how you work from a matter of comfort into a matter of capability.

For an experienced professional who has left an organisation to work on their own, it is also a practical guide, because the environment that used to do some of your thinking for you doesn't follow you out the door.

Your desk is part of your thinking equipment, and so are the people you talk to and the time you leave yourself to think.

Diagram showing the working environment as three layers, physical, social and temporal, around how an independent professional thinks.

The working environment has three layers, and all three are part of how you think.

The room is part of the thinking

Kay Sargent has designed workplaces for more than 40 years and leads neuroinclusive design at HOK. When I spoke with her for the Wisepreneurs Podcast, she made the astute observation that for years, the environment, the body and the mind were treated as three separate parts. They are not.

The embodied cognition theory is that they aren't operating separately.
They're really working as a single system, and they are all interlocked. 

Kay Sargent

This sits inside a larger idea from cognitive science. Andy Clark and David Chalmers argued that elements of the world outside the head can act as mental extensions, letting us think in ways the brain could not manage on its own.

Annie Murphy Paul, in her book on the extended mind, gathers the evidence: we think with our bodies through gesture and movement, with our spaces through the cues around us, and with other people.

Three-dimensional space, she notes, lets us offload mental work, and that human strength is wasted when we sit still and try to think from the neck up.

Stephen Anderson and Karl Fast put it more bluntly still: our ability to think depends on the world outside our head.

For an independent professional, that changes the stakes of a home office. The room is part of the thinking, and a badly arranged one taxes your best work.

The six modalities, and the pureed office

Kay's practical framework is the six modalities of work:

  • concentrate, 
  • contemplate,
  • commune,
  • create,
  • congregate and
  • socialise. 

Each is a different kind of work, and each needs both a higher-stimulation and a lower-stimulation version, because some people get overwhelmed by too much input and others need more of it to engage at all. The mistake most offices make, and most home offices too, is to mix all six into one undifferentiated space.

Kay has a sharp image for it. If you have the right kinds of space but tip them all together, a quiet spot a few feet from a chatty collaborative one, you have pureed the office: good ingredients dropped into a blender and poured out as grey mush.

Her fix costs nothing: give different kinds of work different places to happen, then notice which places actually suit you.

 Kay Sargent's six modalities of work, each needing a quieter version for the hypersensitive and a busier version for the hyposensitive.

Kay Sargent's six modalities of work; each one needs a quieter and a busier version.

I wouldn't tell somebody to sit in one spot all day in an office, let alone in their house.

Kay Sargent

Her starting instruction is know thyself. Test a few spots. Watch where your attention holds and where it leaks.

Barbara Tversky's research on spatial cognition shows that we have designed almost the whole of the world we live in, and that the physical arrangement of that world feeds back into how we think. Arranging your own small corner of it deliberately is one of the cheapest improvements to your thinking available to you.

Are you hyper or hypo?

Kay's field is neuroinclusive design, and it started with a question she couldn't fully answer: how do you design a space for someone with ADHD? 

That led to a decade of research, and the most useful idea to come out of it applies to all of us, not only the roughly one in five people who are neurodivergent.

It's the difference between being hypersensitive and hyposensitive.

If you're hypersensitive, too much input overwhelms you, so you do your best work in quiet, with visual and acoustic control and some distance from other people.

If you're hyposensitive, you need the opposite: movement, a bit of buzz, something to fidget with, other people nearby. Same task, two very different rooms.

We all assume everybody functions like us. But they don't.

Kay Sargent

This is what know thyself actually means in practice.

Are you someone who needs the room to go quiet before you can think, or someone who wilts in silence and comes alive in a cafe?

Most of us have never asked, which is why we copy other people's setups and wonder why they don't fit.

Kay's design principle is that if you design for the edges, you get the middle for free: build a space that works for the most sensitive and the most stimulation-seeking, and everyone in between is covered too.

Movement, light and the fallow period

Kay is blunt about bodies: nobody was designed to sit stagnantly in one place for hours, and yet that is what most desk work asks of us.

Movement, even small movement, wakes the mind up. Annie Murphy Paul reports that fidgeting increases blood flow to the part of the brain used for focused attention. A short walk, a change of posture, a stretch between tasks does real cognitive work.

Access to natural light and a view matters too. Paul describes the soft fascination of looking at greenery, water, and open space, which restores attention rather than draining it.

The reflective side of this is where Meredith Fuller OAM, a retired psychologist of 45 years and a regular guest on the podcast, adds something the productivity conversation usually leaves out. Good thinking needs a fallow period, a stretch where nothing much appears to be happening before the useful ideas arrive.

Most brilliant leaps happen in space. The space where nothing much is happening.

Meredith Fuller OAM

For the person working alone, this is easy to lose. There is no commute to mark the edges of the day, no walk to a meeting, no enforced pause. You have to build the pause in.

I read on the floor in the morning and walk over the hill when my head is full, and Mayumi Kataoka, whose forest therapy work I covered in an earlier episode, takes people into a forest for three hours to walk barely a kilometre and a half.

The point of both is the same: recovery is part of the thinking.

The people the office used to supply

The physical room is only the first layer. The second is the people around you, and this is the one independents feel most sharply once it is gone.

Kay describes what an office does that we rarely credit: the chance encounter in the corridor that resets you, the discussion that sparks an idea you wouldn't have reached alone.

She points to a Microsoft study of 60,000 workers during the pandemic. People who already had strong ties kept talking to their close circle, but their secondary and tertiary connections dropped to almost nothing. The result was silos, and a slow loss of the loose contacts that bring a fresh perspective.

Valentine Gatard lives this. She has been self-employed in Paris for 15 years, and for most of that time she worked from a co-working space that gave her both energy and company. It closed last year. For the first time in 15 years, she told me, she feels lonely, and she has not found a space that suits her. Her instinct is right: we were not built, as she put it, to sit on a chair all day behind a screen and then come home to another screen.

Meredith names what actually helps, and it is smaller than a network. Three to five to seven people you can genuinely reveal yourself to, she says, is the marker of psychological health. A handful who see you, not a stack of contacts.

She is also clear about what a video call can't give you: it's flat, and it strips out the physical, embodied signal of being in the same room as another person.

When you go independent, that handful does not assemble itself. You have to find those people on purpose and protect the time to be with them.

It's the first time it has happened to me in 15 years, because I've always had some sort of community around me.

Valentine Gatard

The rhythm you have to protect

The third layer is time, and here Meredith is direct. Working from home is not one thing, because people are not one thing.

An introvert-preferred person can work deeply alone for hours and produce a great deal.

An extrovert-preferred person doing the same can wind down, get little done, and end the day flat and depressed.

The first move, again, is to know your own rhythm rather than copy someone else's.

She is also unusually blunt about pace. Most deadlines, she argues, are simply too fast, and quality improves when you lengthen the timeframe rather than shorten it.

That is a hard thing to hear in a culture that rewards speed, but it matches what Valentine calls agency: the capacity to act with awareness on yourself and your environment.

As an independent professional, you hold your own time. That is the freedom, and it is also the risk, because no one else will protect your reflection for you. Valentine worries openly about keeping her own thinking sharp while surrounded by tools that offer to do it for her, which is the right worry to have.

When working from home becomes a right

In Victoria this stops being only a personal question. From 1 September 2026, the Allan government's law gives eligible Victorians a legal right to work from home two days a week, written into the Equal Opportunity Act, with small businesses covered from July 2027. For a lot of people that's a genuine gain, and long overdue.

It also lands differently depending on who you are. For a hypersensitive person, two protected days away from an open-plan office is a relief. For a hyposensitive or strongly extroverted person, two days at home can drain the buzz and the contact they run on, the same split Meredith describes between people who go deep alone and people who fade without others. A right that treats everyone the same still meets very different nervous systems.

There's a second cost, the one I raised with Kay: the people who lose most from time at home are often the juniors, who learn by being in the room and watching how the work is done. Take away the bottom rungs of the ladder, as she puts it, and it gets harder to reach the middle.

None of this is an argument against the law. It's an argument for knowing yourself before you use it. Two days at home is the right default for some people and the wrong one for others, and the only way to tell is to notice where you actually do your best work.

Where AI fits in the room

AI is now part of the working environment too, and it deserves a deliberate place rather than a default one. Kay is precise about its limit. It can generate a good-looking space in seconds, but it can't tell you how a human being will feel and function in that space.

The capability it lacks is the one that took her four decades to build: knowing which of the options in front of you actually works for this person, in this situation, because you have seen how similar calls played out before.

Valentine uses AI only in areas she learned before AI existed, precisely so she can tell whether what it hands back is any good. She likes to know what she is thinking, and she treats the tool as something to check rather than to trust.

The research supports the caution. Gloria Mark, who studies attention, warns that as we hand more of our mind's work to a machine, we gradually lose our own agency and capabilities.

Fabrizio Dell'Acqua, reported by Ethan Mollick, found that recruiters given high-quality AI became careless and less skilled in their own decisions, a pattern he called falling asleep at the wheel. The better the tool, the greater the temptation to stop paying attention, and the attention is the job.

The way to place AI in your environment, then, is as a fast, tireless collaborator whose output you always weigh, not as a replacement for the thinking that makes you worth hiring. Used that way it extends your reach. Used the other way it slowly removes the very capability your clients pay for.

Rebuilding the environment on your own terms

An organisation gives you a building, a set of colleagues and a rhythm, and it does so without your noticing.

Leave, and all three go at once. The work of an independent practice includes rebuilding them deliberately: 

  • a room arranged for the different kinds of work you actually do, 
  • movement and light and genuine recovery built into the day,
  •  a small circle of people who see you and whom you make time for, and
  • a pace you set rather than inherit. 

Place your tools, including AI, inside that system with care.

This is what cognitive vitality looks like in practice for an experienced professional working on their own. It's the steady work of assembling an environment that thinks with you, and it pays off over years. 

Frequently asked questions

They are the six kinds of work Kay Sargent says we actually do: concentrate, contemplate, commune, create, congregate and socialise. Each needs both a higher-stimulation and a lower-stimulation version. Trying to do all six at a single desk, which she calls the pureed office, is why many home offices feel wrong.

Start with Kay Sargent's advice to know thyself: test a few spots and notice where your attention actually holds. Give different kinds of work different places, protect movement and natural light, and build in genuine pauses. You already have the rooms; the change is using them for distinct purposes rather than as one blur.

Because an organisation supplies colleagues and chance encounters you rarely credit until they are gone, as Valentine Gatard found when her co-working space closed. Meredith Fuller suggests the fix is small: a handful of three to seven people who genuinely see you, met in person where possible, rather than a large but shallow network.

No. Meredith Fuller points out that an introvert-preferred person may work deeply alone for hours, while an extrovert-preferred person doing the same can lose energy and end the day flat. The useful step is to learn your own rhythm and design your week around it rather than adopt a single model.

Use it as a collaborator whose output you always check, in areas where you already have enough experience to judge the quality. Research from Gloria Mark and Fabrizio Dell'Acqua shows that leaning on a capable tool without paying attention erodes your own decisions over time. The judgment about what actually works is the part worth keeping in your own hands.

It is the idea, argued by Andy Clark and David Chalmers, that the mind is not sealed inside the skull. Parts of the world outside, our tools, our notes, our spaces and other people, act as genuine extensions of our thinking. It is the foundation for treating your working environment as part of your cognitive capability.

The Wisepreneurs Podcast, hosted by Nigel Rawlins, features experienced professionals, authors and consultants on building sustainable practice on their own terms. The episodes with Kay Sargent, Valentine Gatard and Meredith Fuller behind this article are a good starting point.

Neuroinclusive design, Kay Sargent's field, arranges spaces so people with different sensory needs can all work well. It matters for everyone because the same idea applies to you: knowing whether you are hypersensitive (calmed by quiet and control) or hyposensitive (energised by movement and buzz) is how you decide where and how to work. Design for the edges, Kay says, and you get the middle for free.

From September 2026, eligible Victorians have a legal right to work from home two days a week. It's a genuine gain for many, but it lands differently depending on your sensory and social needs. Some people think best in the quiet of home; others fade without the buzz and contact of an office, and juniors in particular learn by being around others. The law makes knowing your own rhythm more important, not less.

References

Kay Sargent - Wisepreneurs Podcast, Kay Sargent Space and Cognition. Director of Thought Leadership for Interiors at HOK and author of Designing Neuroinclusive Workplaces (Wiley). Her account of embodied cognition and the six modalities of work anchors the physical layer of this article.

Valentine Gatard - Wisepreneurs Podcast (returning guest, first interviewed on episode 29). Self-employed in Paris for 15 years; her experience of losing a co-working space grounds the article's social layer and its point about isolation.

Meredith Fuller - Wisepreneurs Podcast (a returning guest since 2020). Psychologist of 45 years; her work on reflection, rhythm and the small circle of people who see you grounds the temporal and social layers.

Mayumi Kataoka - Wisepreneurs Podcast, episode 78, on forest therapy. Cited for the idea that recovery and attention restoration are part of thinking, not time away from it.

Annie Murphy Paul - The Extended Mind (and related essays). Synthesises embodied, situated and distributed cognition, including how movement and three-dimensional space support thinking.

Andy Clark and David Chalmers - the extended mind thesis: elements of the world outside the head can act as mental extensions. The conceptual foundation of the article.

Stephen Anderson and Karl Fast - Figure It Out. Source for the claim that our ability to think depends on the world outside our head, and that cognition is linked to place.

Barbara Tversky - Mind in Motion and related interviews on spatial cognition. Cited for how the designed physical world feeds back into how we think.

Gloria Mark - Attention Span, and the essay AI Will Do Your Thinking for You. Cited on the loss of agency and capability when we hand mental work to a machine.

Fabrizio Dell'Acqua - research reported by Ethan Mollick on recruiters who used high-quality AI and became less skilled in their own decisions, described as falling asleep at the wheel.

Victorian Government - the right to work from home two days a week, enshrined in the Equal Opportunity Act, commencing 1 September 2026 (small businesses from July 2027). Announced by the Allan Labor Government; see premier.vic.gov.au.

Episodes referenced (confirm numbers and URLs before publishing)

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