You know those little booths that have appeared in every modern office — the ones we're told help us focus, collaborate, work better? I have a confession: I hate them.
Not because they don't work. Because they seem to work for everyone except me. Whenever I step inside one, I become strangely aware of the walls, the door, the limited air, the fact there's only one way out. Within minutes I'm looking for an excuse to leave — no longer concentrating on the meeting, but on getting out. Which is strange, because these boxes were designed to improve wellbeing and productivity. For some people, they absolutely do. For me, they're functional but not somewhere I want to stay a second longer than required.
Not everyone experiences the phone booth the same way — for some of us, this is exactly how it feels.
One person's sanctuary is another person's nightmare
When I mention my phone-box problem to others, some look at me like I'm crazy. For them, these boxes are the best thing that happened to the modern office — finally, privacy, concentration, no interruptions. And honestly, I envy them a little. The problem isn't the phone box. The problem is assuming everybody experiences the same space the same way. What feels safe and comfortable to one person can feel restrictive to somebody else — and maybe that's one of the biggest challenges in office design: not creating the perfect environment, but creating enough different environments for different people to thrive.
We keep solving problems with new problems
We embraced open-plan offices because we wanted collaboration. Then we introduced phone booths because people couldn't concentrate. We created focus pods because people needed privacy. We designed breakout spaces because some people felt isolated. In many ways, we've spent the last twenty years solving problems created by our previous workplace solutions — solving a problem by creating a problem, then designing another product to solve that.
What about the space in between?
Personally, I look for something in between the open office and a tiny sealed box: a place to take a call without disturbing everyone around me, but without shutting myself behind a door. A bit of privacy and shelter, while still feeling connected to what's happening around me. And if there happen to be a few plants nearby, even better — a natural space within a space.
This is why biophilic design has become so interesting to us at SQUARELY. Not because plants magically solve every workplace problem, but because nature rarely creates hard boundaries. Instead, it creates transitions and layers. Spaces can feel protected without feeling enclosed, private without becoming isolating. Greenery, natural materials and subtle spatial divisions often achieve this more gently than walls and doors ever could.
Our answer: Shoji
Our own response to the phone-booth problem is Shoji — a freestanding, modular room divider built from solid oak, with an integrated planter and an acoustic felt panel. It creates a sheltered pocket of privacy for a call or a quiet conversation, without a door, a ceiling, or a single wall. You get separation without isolation.
Shoji Room Divider
A modular oak partition with an integrated GrowWIDE planter and acoustic felt panel — configure it straight or in an L-shape to carve out a sheltered spot inside an open office.
Shop Shoji Room Divider →
Shoji II Free Standing Room Divider
A single-module version for smaller footprints — just as effective for creating one sheltered corner in a shared space.
Shop Shoji II →
Shoji in a studio, and Shoji at home:
In the studio, Shoji shelters a workstation without closing it off — daylight, sightlines and air all stay open. At home, the same dividers quietly separate a sofa corner from a dining table, using plants and a felt panel instead of a wall. Same product, same logic: shelter without confinement.
Case study: dividers for networking, not isolation
We saw a version of this same problem at Trifork's Nordhavn office. With self-managed teams spread across dozens of business units, they didn't need more sealed rooms — they needed places for spontaneous conversation to happen without becoming an open free-for-all. We placed modular, reused-wood planters as flexible dividers in common areas: enough separation to create a sense of place, not enough to shut anyone out.
Case study: Trifork, Copenhagen
Modular planters used as dividers in common areas, fostering relaxed networking and dialogue between 72 business units — without a single phone booth.
Read the full Trifork case study →
Of course, Shoji will never replace a phone booth when complete acoustic privacy is needed for a confidential call. But it offers something a sealed box can't: a space you can step into without your body bracing for the door to close. And perhaps that's what the future workplace needs most — not one perfect solution, but more choice.
Designing for diversity
The older I get, the less I believe in universal workplace solutions. For every person who loves a mute box, there's another who avoids it whenever possible. Neither of them is wrong. What if the real challenge isn't finding the right solution, but creating enough different solutions? A workplace that recognises this diversity — in how people work, think, concentrate, communicate and recharge — isn't more complicated. It's more human.
Explore our Office Solutions →
See Shoji up close →
Browse more case studies →
Why I Can't Last 10 Minutes in a Phone Booth (And What It Says About Office Design)
You know those little booths that have appeared in every modern office — the ones we're told help us focus, collaborate, work better? I have a confession: I hate them.
Not because they don't work. Because they seem to work for everyone except me. Whenever I step inside one, I become strangely aware of the walls, the door, the limited air, the fact there's only one way out. Within minutes I'm looking for an excuse to leave — no longer concentrating on the meeting, but on getting out. Which is strange, because these boxes were designed to improve wellbeing and productivity. For some people, they absolutely do. For me, they're functional but not somewhere I want to stay a second longer than required.
Not everyone experiences the phone booth the same way — for some of us, this is exactly how it feels.
One person's sanctuary is another person's nightmare
When I mention my phone-box problem to others, some look at me like I'm crazy. For them, these boxes are the best thing that happened to the modern office — finally, privacy, concentration, no interruptions. And honestly, I envy them a little. The problem isn't the phone box. The problem is assuming everybody experiences the same space the same way. What feels safe and comfortable to one person can feel restrictive to somebody else — and maybe that's one of the biggest challenges in office design: not creating the perfect environment, but creating enough different environments for different people to thrive.
We keep solving problems with new problems
We embraced open-plan offices because we wanted collaboration. Then we introduced phone booths because people couldn't concentrate. We created focus pods because people needed privacy. We designed breakout spaces because some people felt isolated. In many ways, we've spent the last twenty years solving problems created by our previous workplace solutions — solving a problem by creating a problem, then designing another product to solve that.
What about the space in between?
Personally, I look for something in between the open office and a tiny sealed box: a place to take a call without disturbing everyone around me, but without shutting myself behind a door. A bit of privacy and shelter, while still feeling connected to what's happening around me. And if there happen to be a few plants nearby, even better — a natural space within a space.
This is why biophilic design has become so interesting to us at SQUARELY. Not because plants magically solve every workplace problem, but because nature rarely creates hard boundaries. Instead, it creates transitions and layers. Spaces can feel protected without feeling enclosed, private without becoming isolating. Greenery, natural materials and subtle spatial divisions often achieve this more gently than walls and doors ever could.
Our answer: Shoji
Our own response to the phone-booth problem is Shoji — a freestanding, modular room divider built from solid oak, with an integrated planter and an acoustic felt panel. It creates a sheltered pocket of privacy for a call or a quiet conversation, without a door, a ceiling, or a single wall. You get separation without isolation.
Shoji Room Divider
Shop Shoji Room Divider →A modular oak partition with an integrated GrowWIDE planter and acoustic felt panel — configure it straight or in an L-shape to carve out a sheltered spot inside an open office.
Shoji II Free Standing Room Divider
Shop Shoji II →A single-module version for smaller footprints — just as effective for creating one sheltered corner in a shared space.
Shoji in a studio, and Shoji at home:
In the studio, Shoji shelters a workstation without closing it off — daylight, sightlines and air all stay open. At home, the same dividers quietly separate a sofa corner from a dining table, using plants and a felt panel instead of a wall. Same product, same logic: shelter without confinement.
Case study: dividers for networking, not isolation
We saw a version of this same problem at Trifork's Nordhavn office. With self-managed teams spread across dozens of business units, they didn't need more sealed rooms — they needed places for spontaneous conversation to happen without becoming an open free-for-all. We placed modular, reused-wood planters as flexible dividers in common areas: enough separation to create a sense of place, not enough to shut anyone out.
Case study: Trifork, Copenhagen
Read the full Trifork case study →Modular planters used as dividers in common areas, fostering relaxed networking and dialogue between 72 business units — without a single phone booth.
Of course, Shoji will never replace a phone booth when complete acoustic privacy is needed for a confidential call. But it offers something a sealed box can't: a space you can step into without your body bracing for the door to close. And perhaps that's what the future workplace needs most — not one perfect solution, but more choice.
Designing for diversity
The older I get, the less I believe in universal workplace solutions. For every person who loves a mute box, there's another who avoids it whenever possible. Neither of them is wrong. What if the real challenge isn't finding the right solution, but creating enough different solutions? A workplace that recognises this diversity — in how people work, think, concentrate, communicate and recharge — isn't more complicated. It's more human.
Planning a workplace that offers more than one kind of space to focus in?
Book a Meeting →or email us directly to talk through your layout.
Explore our Office Solutions →
See Shoji up close →
Browse more case studies →