Digital Space Is Still Space


CATEGORY—Design, Perspective
Words: Natasha Maben

2 min read

At some point, everyone decided the internet was a communication problem.

So brands hired copywriters. Headlines were optimised. Subject lines were A/B tested, and captions debated: question or full stop. Digital presence became a language problem, something to be written, sent, received, measured. A considerable amount of time and money went into this.

But. Digital space is still space. It has proportion, threshold, atmosphere, sequence. It can make you feel located or disoriented, welcome or peripheral, trusted or suspicious. Those are spatial effects. 

Buildings have managed without copywriters for centuries. A well-designed space never announces that it is serious or warm or considered. You feel it in the ceiling height, the quality of light, the way the entrance orients you before you’ve decided where to go. Juhani Pallasmaa spent a career articulating what architects had always known: that buildings speak through proportion, shadow, texture, through the way a hand meets a door handle.¹ Meaning arrives through encounter.

What you show first, what you withhold, how fast people are moved through, what sits next to what: each is a decision, made or not. The digital environment is no exception. It never was.

The negative space on a webpage makes a claim about what a brand values. The order in which information is revealed is a choreography, and friction is a spatial experience too. People have decided something about you before they reach your about page.

If what arrives is a thoughtfully written letter, delivered from a building that makes you uncomfortable the moment you walk in, the words don’t stand a chance.

The brands that understand this feel like places. Aesop is the obvious one. The site unfolds at the same unhurried pace as the stores, with the same atmosphere and no seam where one ends and the other begins. You know the moment you arrive. Something settles. Or it doesn’t.

1    Juhani Pallasmaa, The Eyes of the Skin: Architecture and the Senses (1996) 




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