The backlash against performative, photogenic workplaces that look great on social media has transformed into a growing demand for authenticity in design.

In 2023, we saw the rise of the Instagrammable office —or the trend of corporate image making on social media with shots of super hip offices. The hope? That social media aesthetics would bring resistant workers back to the office. 

Today, we’re seeing another trend: the anti-Instagrammable office—or the workplace designed for function, authenticity and beauty. 

“People don't want fake,” says Jeremy Reding, global workplace leader and senior principal at global integrated design firm DLR Group. “You’ll see some do a beautiful space, but you get in, and it’s this awful environment to work in.” 

A meaningful way to work. 

People want spaces that reflect the true essence of not only an organization, but its people and how they work. They want functionally appropriate and holistically-designed spaces—that are also beautiful and novel. “People want to come into the office to be with people in a meaningful way, so the space has to authentically work,” says Reding.

Those concepts didn’t quite land with the rise of the Instagrammable office, driven by Etsy, WeWork, Airbnb and Instagram itself. Leaders hoped the social images would help retention, recruiting and luring people back in the return-to-office game. 

Plenty of young tech companies began to copy the aesthetic: polished concrete, lots of reclaimed wood, bright colors, neon signs and colorful murals, exposed brick, open floor plans, minimalist desks, and communal “living room” setups and exposed ceilings.

Social media commenters roasted the New York Times’ post that explored the office-as-content movement. Wrote one commenter: “Have they tried listening to their workers, giving them raises, and reducing their weeks to four days without increasing hours?”

Snapshots don’t tell the whole story.

Add to that: those pictures didn’t necessarily reflect the realities of working in those spaces. The open floor plans, communal “living room” setups and exposed concrete ceilings? In reality, they were ripe for acoustic discomfort and distraction. 

The stylish sofas and unpadded wooden benches? They looked great in photos, but were not necessarily comfortable or great for posture during a workday of screentime. 

“You had a lot of people trying to copy that aesthetic without understanding that you've got to do more than create a beautiful space and expect people to be happier,” says Ricardo Nabholz, studio creative director at TPG Architecture in New York City. “It's a failure to underestimate how sensitive the people in your office are to authenticity.” 

Often, the images didn’t reflect the whole experience of what it was like to actually work there—having a functional workplace that meets the needs of each employee. An office where people can find privacy when needed or acoustic separation when needed, where the temperature isn’t too hot or too cold.

A demand for authenticity.

Today, leaders are going deeper than pictures to consider the functionality of design. They’re ensuring, for instance, that those conference rooms are designed appropriately—understanding who is using them, how and why. They’re taking more time to understand—before the actual design begins—what’s working and what’s not, how employees do their work, what they need, and how they feel in a space. They’re understanding what matters most to people and how work gets done there. 

“There’s something in a workspace’s DNA that is being expressed in every detail, and it’s very subtle,” says Nabholtz. 

Designers are now working with employers to layer materials in a very intentional way, and choosing the materials that evoke a feeling and brand identity. 

Hospitality designers are often part of the design team, creating warm, inviting spaces in which you want to spend time, says Reding.

Real materials, and unplugged rooms.

“I will say there has been a really big push away from materials that are not authentic,” says Reding. “They want real leather. They want real wood, they want real steel, not a laminate that looks like steel.”

That may be a perspective shift driven by the greater uncertainty in the world and the rise of artificial intelligence, says Reding. He says more clients are requesting quiet rooms that have no technology —no Internet, no phone, no screens allowed. There are other centers, akin to a campfire, that are meant to bring employees together for real, authentic human interaction. 

“It’s kind of this counter-movement to AI happening at the same time, this desire for realness,” says Reding. “They want to stay in touch with the earth, literally, and ensure the design doesn’t get stripped and artificial and you lose sight of who we are designing for.”