Developers are required to be bold. (At least the good ones are).
They have to test ideas before there’s proof. They have to spend money before there’s consensus. And they have to trust instinct when the spreadsheets can’t quite justify the line item.
Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t.
I’ve spent more hours than I can count arguing over amenities.
Years ago, I pushed hard to put a squash court into a building. It wasn’t obvious. It took space. It wasn’t cheap. It had never been done and there were plenty of reasons not to do it.
It ended up being the best amenity in the building and a compelling reason for some people to buy.
I remember fighting just as hard to install one of the first cold plunges in a residential building. The developer and design team weren’t convinced. It felt niche. Maybe too aggressive.
It became a resounding success.
And then there was the screening room in a building in Tribeca.
It looked great on a marketing deck. It photographed well. It sounded impressive. But it sat empty for years. A beautifully designed room no one actually needed. I walked in to that room last week and there was a group of 5 year olds playing dress up in Disney costumes. The space would have been better designed as a playroom or stage.
Amenities are bets on behavior.
The risk isn’t the construction cost. The risk is misreading how people actually live.
Right now, there’s an opportunity for a new type of amenity. One that reflects the way we live today.
Most people I know have started meditating. What used to feel fringe is now mainstream. Meditation studios are on every corner. Apps have replaced alarm clocks. Even the most high performing executives I know carve out time to sit quietly for ten minutes a day.
And yet, in dense urban buildings, quiet is the rarest luxury of all.
We build louder.
Bigger gyms. Bigger lounges. More programming. More activity.
But one of the most valuable things a building can offer in a city is the opposite.
Calm.
A meditation pod or dedicated meditation room wouldn’t require natural light. It wouldn’t need much space. It wouldn’t require staff. It wouldn’t compete with other amenities.
It would simply offer stillness.
In a world where every square foot is expected to entertain, perform, or impress, the bold move may be to create a room that does none of those things.
A room designed for silence. Not the same room as a podcast room, a recording studio, or a business meeting room.
A designated mediation room.
Luxury today isn’t always about spectacle but about restoration.
Because sometimes the most powerful amenity in a building is the one that doesn’t make any noise at all.
Let’s do this!
Shaun