DIGITAL HOME: A SHARED PLATFORM

Written by Prof. Sonia Livingstone, OBE. Professor of Social Psychology and former head of the Department of Media and Communications at the London School of Economics and Political Science.

Ever since the arrival of TV in our homes, we have been warned of the erosion of a golden age of familial closeness. Whatever the actual historical and social realities of family life, the technological transformations we see today are unquestionably more radical and far-reaching. They embed themselves into every part of the home, and even our bodies, and connect our every action to some form of data ecology, while the systems themselves become more opaque and hard to pin down – or to legislate, still less control.

Amidst the genuine concerns about the negative effects of digitally generated and accessed material on children – and on their families and homes – my work has been to understand how children, in particular, can and do benefit from the digital world. Going beyond protection to full digital agency and citizenship.

In most cases home is where the majority of under 16s’ digital activity takes place, and also (though less often realised) that it is at home where there is a potential for the majority of this content to be relationally and formatively interpreted and channeled. In a narrative of divisive online separateness, we can speak instead of the opportunity for shared digital learning, for informed and empowered choices.

Social media, digital information and entertainment platforms are frequently the technologies signed as fragmenting close family connections, implicated in replacing the real with the virtual. As with TV it is the “invasive” element of these platforms, in our homes, our bedrooms, the intimate spaces of shared human life, which provokes the greatest unease.

My recent work challenges the inevitability of fragmentation by looking at how digital technologies become embedded in family life across generations. How the reading of disconnection may be in fact part of a transition to new ways of connecting. What is suggested is that home relationships are transformed rather than interrupted through the emergence of new platformed practices. Just as when the media panicked about families who never spoke to each other or children addicted to video games, many families have quietly found new ways to regroup around their favourite digital contents and have found new connections.

This complex mechanism of connecting families often relies on the public display of intimacy and belonging on social media platforms, through mundane acts performed in everyday life. This display of everyday family life includes family time, parenting practices and intergenerational connections. More recent studies suggest that the digital world allows the co-construction of ‘micro-memories’ and narratives of family relationships in retaining moments of intimacy, by archiving and reliving them.

A good example of this is in how families can maintain close contact not only through messaging services, but through accessing the same content and comment options. This is not only for family members separated by geography, but for those sharing a home, able to share more intimately and less self-consciously with each other via digital platforms: remote technology bringing people closer, by not just seeing each other’s faces but by getting fuller glimpses of each other’s lives.

From family Whatsapp groups to photo stories and curated film/music lists, real daily relationships are enriched, valued and sustained. Platforms can be the means and expression of caring for each other. More than this, the evidence shows that technology affords new ways of giving and receiving intimacy and enabling practices of care in contexts where it would previously have been difficult, if not impossible.

Future research on families’ engagement with digital platforms needs to understand how these platforms work, while at the same time giving greater attention to family relationships beyond the often-studied parent-child relationship. In fact the intergenerational opportunities intrinsic in these applications already point to an enhanced experience of family life rather than a diminished one. Home as the platform supporting and hosting a wide-variety of people and needs can be not just a trite metaphor but a positive reality.

As a social scientist my research is grounded in ordinary people’s experience – the people who live in homes rather than design them; the people who generally understand little about technology, but love to buy the latest innovation. We cannot really grasp the meaning and consequences of the burgeoning digital scene without attending to our imaginative, cultural and emotional investment in the digital age. What we think (that is, if we do think) it is doing with us and what we are doing with it.

Much of this implied thinking and learning is because regardless of our own actual age we are all digital children. Even early adopters can be overwhelmed by current developments, and the perception (together with the language used in expressing that perception) that children are the digital natives can make the adults in their lives feel like vulnerable tourists. If we can see the terrain, instead, as demanding and liberating and to be travelled together, we can all feel more at home.

HRF is proud to celebrate 20 years as the Voice of Homes. This month, Professor Sonia Livingstone, OBE, DPhil in Psychology from the University of Oxford and Professor in the Department of Media and Communications at the London School of Economics and Political Science (LSE), reflects on the home as a shared digital platform for learning, intimacy, and intergenerational connection

WHERE THE COMMON GOOD COMES TO LIFE

Written by Maria Elena Critto

At university, while studying Sociology, I learned the theory that “the family is the basic unit of society”. However, in the day-to-day reality of my own life, that phrase has come to mean so much more. From my own experience, I have seen how my home was the central place where I learned and internalised the values, habits, and dreams that later helped me navigate the wider world.

Firstly, the family I was born into filled me with a zest for life and society. I learned how to love, respect, listen to, and care for others; I learned how to seek consensus and how to resolve problems without giving up. It was there that I also learned to prioritise the common good over my own, to refuse to stand idly by when others suffer, and to feel the love of God. I can never truly repay all that I received; but, as my mother used to tell me, the best way to show gratitude for what you have been given is by giving it to others—putting those gifts at the service of everyone else.

Later, Julián and I set out to build our own family. We dreamed of it and worked for it from the very beginning, yet even my highest expectations fall short of the treasure God sent us. In the first instance, there is Julián’s role; I have grown so much alongside him. I learned from his different perspective; he always saw much more in me than I saw in myself. He helped me spread my wings and bring to fruition talents I had kept hidden. His outlook was vital, especially regarding motherhood. Many times, I thought it would be impossible to balance work with raising children, but his confidence gave me the security to keep going during my most vulnerable moments. I remember the juggling act of trying to give my all to both worlds—professional and familial—and he was always there: if I was late, he was home early. He woke up with me during the night and, throughout our first year of marriage, he was the only cook in the house. He brought joy when things went wrong and stepped in physically when I felt I couldn’t go on.

My children are God’s other great gift. What can I say? They are pure light, pure grace, pure love, and unconditional support. When I am worried, they calm me with words like “it’s okay” or a simple hug; when I’m acting a bit “mad”, they let me know! They always have a wise word just when I need it most. To this day, I continue to learn from them—not only about unconditional love, but about life itself. They make me grow in ways that words on a page cannot describe; watching them flourish fills my life with joy, just as seeing them struggle draws out strength I didn’t know I had.

Truly, my family does more for me than I do for them. To give you a concrete example: when the pandemic hit, my high expectations for both work and home life caused me to collapse. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of tasks. They noticed immediately and were right there to help. They organised a “family plan” where each of the seven of us had an assigned daily task to contribute to the well-being of the whole family (cooking, doing the laundry, cleaning the bathrooms, watering the plants and so on). Seeing everyone pitch in for the greater good with such love, passion, and focus—some even singing while they worked—was incredible. Together we talked, shared our anxieties and joys, and grew immensely during those tough days of lockdown. I learned that everything is much easier as a family than alone; even major crises like a pandemic become easier to digest.

In a society filled with so many fears and obstacles to starting a family—whether economic, emotional, or the difficulty of finding a partner—I want to say that it is possible. Building a family is an adventure worth the effort because it ennobles us: it is embarking on a project where ‘we’ triumphs over ‘I’.  It offers us a far broader and more generous perspective on life. Although every family is unique and unrepeatable, I have no doubt that a shared and collaborative life is worth it. It is there that we discover our vocation, where we find the vital support to let our life projects take flight. It is where we develop as people and experience our first socialisation; it is the space where we discover ourselves and begin to develop our capabilities; It is there that we gather the strength to move forward.

Living as a family is the best exercise for learning to love more and love better. It is where one finds the support to keep going in the darkest moments, and where hope opens up to the transcendent, to God. Despite the fears I always had, it is worth leaping in pursuit of a greater good and keeping one’s focus in the right place. A family is not a perfect ideal, but a real construction of effort and overcoming obstacles, filled with joys and tears, mistakes and constant learning. It is built with patience, listening, communication, and a profound respect—loving the other exactly as they are, prioritising their well-being, and giving them the necessary time and care. The happiness a family gives us is an invaluable treasure beyond words; it doesn’t just transform us, it acts as a catapult for the growth of the whole of society.

WOMEN AS THE KEEPERS OF COLLECTIVE INTELLIGENCE TRADING POSTS

Written By Mei Lin Fung. Cofounder People Centered Internet

The New Frontline

All around us, institutions falter. Trust in governments wavers. Promises evaporate in times of crisis, when we need them most. So we must ask—where will help come from?

The truth is simple: it comes from us. In Texas Hill Country, I saw this firsthand. As rivers rose in a sudden flood, it wasn’t distant authorities who kept people alive in those first critical minutes. It was neighbours, mostly women, who pulled together: posting safe routes on group chats, checking in on elders, sharing food and shelter. What looks ordinary—coffee around a kitchen table, folding laundry together, chatting while cooking—becomes extraordinary when the unexpected strikes. The home, it turns out, is not just a refuge. It is the first node of resilience.

From Homes to Trading Posts

History offers a powerful metaphor. On the American frontier, pioneers relied on trail guides and trading posts to survive. Trail guides showed safe passages through unknown territory; trading posts became hubs of exchange, places where knowledge, supplies, and trust were shared. Without them, many would not have made it.

Today, our journey is different, but no less perilous. We face floods, fires, pandemics, financial shocks, and the accelerating disruptions of AI and climate change. We need new trail guides—and new trading posts. Women, long excluded from formal decision-making, are already quietly setting them up. Their homes, kitchens, and community spaces are the modern equivalent of those frontier hubs.

Reclaiming Collective Intelligence
In Reclaiming Collective Intelligence, we argued that humanity’s survival depends on “improving our ability to improve”. That means weaving together human judgment, shared purpose, and digital tools into systems that learn faster than the crises they face. But collective intelligence doesn’t emerge from think tanks or boardrooms alone. It starts where people actually live—around kitchen tables, in WhatsApp groups, and in neighbourhood meet-ups.

Women’s roles as caregivers, organisers, and connectors place them at the heart of this process. Yet their intelligence has been systematically undervalued. Only half of women receive official disaster warnings compared to over 70% of men. In many cultures, their voices are muted in community planning. Still, when disaster strikes, women are often the ones who mobilise, improvise, and stabilise. They are the living
repositories of “what works.”

By recognising women as keepers of the trading posts of collective intelligence, we can reclaim a vital resource for civilisational resilience.

A Phone, a Network, and Leadership

What makes this possible now is technology. With just a phone, free AI tools, and a trusted network, communities can:

• translate alerts into local languages so no neighbour is left behind
• generate checklists for evacuation or shelter-in-place in seconds
• share safe routes in real time, turning phones into lifelines when official systems fail.

AI is not a replacement for human judgment—it is an amplifier. Judgment, trust, and leadership are already in the community. Women, managing households and relationships, are often the first to act. Adding AI skills expands their reach: faster action, broader coverage, tailored advice.

Everyday Acts, Global Impact
Examples are everywhere. In Houston, neighbours practise a simple routine: share an AI-generated checklist, post the safest route, and check on elders with oxygen. In Bangladesh, women use flood alerts to organise boat rescues. In Mexico, mothers’ groups coordinate food kitchens that double as logistics hubs.

These are not headline stories—but they are the backbone of resilience. Just as frontier trading posts enabled migration west, these modern hubs enable survival in our age of cascading crises.

From Margins to Center
The Home Renaissance Foundation’s mission has always been to recognise the central role of the home in building flourishing societies. On this 20th anniversary, we can extend that vision: the home as the seedbed of collective intelligence.

When we empower women to lead trading posts of knowledge, networks, and action, we expand resilience far beyond what governments or institutions can deliver alone. The cavalry isn’t coming. But we are here, in our kitchens and living rooms, with phones in hand, ready to lead.

The Call Ahead
The question for the next twenty years is clear: will we continue to overlook women’s intelligence, or will we elevate it as a cornerstone of civilisational resilience?

If we choose the latter, we can transform homes from private spaces into public assets, each one a trading post on humanity’s collective journey. From there, communities can link together into networks of resilience, where local wisdom meets global tools, and where the overlooked become the indispensable.

Help is not on the way—it has always been here. In the hands of women. At the centre of the home. Building the trading posts of collective intelligence that will see us through.

THE POWER OF HOME

Written By Anne Fennell President of FEFAF (European Federation of Parents and Carers at Home)

‘Home’, the word itself evokes powerful emotions. It is where we start from, where we venture out, and ultimately where we hope to return to. This occurs on a daily basis but also on life’s journey. ‘Home’ is our root, where we are first known, where we form our first impressions and where we hope to be accepted and loved for who we are. It is from home we step out on life’s journey.

Homecoming can be at the end of the day, at the end of a voyage or at the end of self discovery – like Odysseus who has to wander 20 years before he can come home. We come home seeking rest, to lay down our burdens and ultimately to find peace within ourselves.

I have been Chair of the organisation Mothers at Home Matter for many years and more recently President of the European Federation of Parents and Carers at Home. The ‘at home’ is as important as the Mothering or caring. Home is the foundation. It is the place the child and mother can be at rest, can let the guards down, can experiment, can love, share, nurture, set the disciplines and boundaries. It is where the child feels at ease.

Home is not primarily a physical structure. As a family we have had to move several times in the past 7 years and I was always struck when we left our home it was no longer ‘home’ but just a ‘house’. The emotional charge left when we left and in each abode we recreated ‘home’ instilling the values we felt were most important to us. God was a central part, family another. Our aim was for our home to be a place for anyone to feel the warmth of family and be nourished physically, emotionally and spiritually if required. In a couple of locations we were only in a home for 5-6 months, we knew our future was uncertain and we were on a month’s notice but the decision was to create a ‘home’ from day one.

Now that we have built our own house the knot of uncertainty has eased and there are advantages to establishing roots knowing one will not be easily uprooted. But it still remains the case that the creation and power of home is in the vision. It is built with our love, our time, our presence and creativity. It reflects our values and quietly shapes who we become. It is where we can shed our tears and be restored. From this secure foundation we are strengthened to expand beyond ourselves – to serve our community, contribute to our nation and expand our vision to a universal level.

Ultimately, the power of home is not found in walls, but in the life that fills them.

LIVING TOGETHER IN LATER LIFE

Written by Lord Richard Best, Member of the UK House of Lords and Chair of the All-Party Parliamentary Group on Housing and Care for Older People.

My daughter, son-in-law and two grandsons have been living us while builders are working on their new home. It has been wonderful. Not only do we have the joy of seeing our grandchildren growing up but we get free IT lessons from them! We have decided, though, that intergenerational living is fine as a short-term treat; but for permanent living, as grandparents we need a degree of separation from our children and grandchildren and they from us…

I am currently chairing a UK Government Inquiry on “Creating Intergenerational Communities”. We have been looking at how the provision of accommodation can bring different generations together – rather than hold them apart. We have noted how the major developers when building new projects almost never include housing specially designed for older people. And we have seen developments of retirement apartments that seem designed specifically to exclude contact with younger people. 

So how then can the ideal spatial arrangement between the generations be delivered? How can the design and location of our homes help create and sustain fulfilling intergenerational relationships?
 
Sharing the home

With the acute shortage of affordable homes, intergenerational over-crowding is all too prevalent, particularly in some minority ethnic communities where economic circumstances have made this a necessity. But sharing the home is seldom a family’s first choice and the desire for “a place of your own” seems almost universal.

Nevertheless we have heard of some imaginative examples of how an older person can be supported by a younger fellow resident in the same home. The HomeShare charity, for example, matches two people: an older person who needs a bit of support (perhaps a few hours a week) and a young person who helps them and gets compensated with their accommodation on very favourable terms. Such arrangements can be enormously beneficial with some lasting intergenerational bonds of friendship being formed; but these relationships require some sensitive handling and can only be expected to cover a relatively small number of households.

Sharing the building

A scheme for both young adults with learning difficulties and older people in need of some support has found neighbours in the two age groups have provided mutual support as an advantage of living alongside each other. In another development designed for 40 older single people and couples, there are also 8 undergraduates who provide social activities, help with outings and shopping, and assist with IT problems.
 
Projects like these that mix the generations in adjacent apartments are unusual, requiring flexibility from public sector funders and private sector financiers. We found these initiatives highly commendable but unlikely to be replicated at a time when achieving the maximum number of new homes requires simplicity and economy in new housebuilding.
 
Nonetheless, there is surely merit in designing all the homes in a new apartment block to be suitable for all age groups. Inclusive design, with level entrances and easy access in the home – meeting  “Lifetime Homes” standards – makes possible the creation of informal, “unintentional” intergenerational communities.   
 
Sharing the location

We find two compelling reasons why planning systems should require a mixture of homes that can create intergenerational communities wherever significant new housing developments are constructed.

First, demographic trends mean far more homes are needed to meet the specific needs of an ageing population – and these needs can only be met if, despite the developers making bigger profits from concentrating entirely on younger households, a proportion of tomorrow’s new housing is designed for the older generation.

The second reason why we advocate a planning requirement to ensure a multi-generational approach to housebuilding is the added value this brings. A place that is shared by different age groups makes possible mutual support that demonstrably enhances the lives of the old, young and very young.  The generations may not want to live in the same home or even the same building, but there is widespread appeal in living in the same place, the same location. Older residents may have the time and patience to attend to the community’s affairs and social life; while younger households can look out for the older ones in myriad ways – from clearing snow outside their front door to trimming their garden hedge!

Separate but integrated

Finally we have looked at the phenomenon of  “retirement villages”: whole communities designed for older people without any homes for younger families and their offspring. Are these the very antithesis of intergenerational living? Can they fairly be described as “ghettoes for the elderly” that deprive their residents of the chance to mix and mingle with the rest of society?
 
Operators of retirement communities, as well as their residents, see that a key attribute of a successful development is the integration of the “separate” project into the fabric of its wider neighbourhood. Strenuous efforts are made to ensure strong connections between the development and the “outside world”: a café/ restaurant that caters for the area around; a gym, or even a swimming pool, that has non-resident members; a club-house available for local events of all kinds. 

Naturally, shared facilities will sometimes mean disagreements between their users. But the firm consensus from those experienced in managing integrated retirement communities is that intergenerational mixing adds immeasurably to the quality of life of all the participants.

HRF is proud to celebrate 20 years as the Voice of the home. This month, Lord Richard Best, Member of the UK House of Lords and Chair of the All-Party Parliamentary Group on Housing and Care for Older People writes about Intergenerational Living

Who cares? A human perspective in the age of AI

Written by Marta Bertolaso, Director of HRF and Professor of Philosophy of Science and Human Development at the University Campus Bio-Medico of Rome (Italy)

My question is not dismissive; it is a genuine enquiry into the nature and provision of care today. In my work in ethics and philosophy of life and organisational sciences, a consistent theme is what makes us human, and how those human attributes are challenged by changed social structures and in the development of technologies designed to augment or replace human activities.

A distinctive human attribute and activity is the giving and receiving of life-long care. This means not just for the nurture of the young as is seen across animal species, but at each stage of life, relating to needs and different vulnerabilities. This includes the care of the sick and the elderly certainly, but also the continuing daily care patterns seen in the home, which are explicit in the provision of food, clothing, hygiene and shelter, and implicit in the emotional nurture of the household.

Such an emotional and intentional dimension of nurture is what more radically qualifies caring as specifically human. It does not consist merely of functional tasks but of an intentional style in care, and of stewardship of the home, of relatives, and of the environmental and social contexts: of the constitutive relational dimensions of our human existence.

Care, at the core of human flourishing and well-being, has seen a significant shift over the last decades, not in its ongoing need but in the understanding of where the responsibility (and, when fully understood, the privilege) of providing care resides. Thus I began deliberately by citing the home as the self-evident place of care-giving. Self-evident because the home remains the most obvious experience of daily care, and because for much of human history it was “the given” context of such care. Intergenerational living, once the commonplace of the home, provided under one roof the support network and material goods for all from the youngest to the oldest family members. This family-home model of care has been at the heart of human experience, though it may be noted that ‘household’, as a more elastic term, can be useful here. Whatever word we use, the expectation of care-provision was that it would be available within the relationships of home.

From the perspective of the Global North, post-1945 developments in ideas of a welfare state, more fluid relationships and life-choices, increased mobility for study and employment have all challenged the static model of care. Put simply, in a society where children routinely move away from their home towns and where relationship breakdowns impact the reliability of life-long care, the state has an enhanced role in filling the gaps – or rather in changing the whole model – of care.

On one hand, care homes for the elderly and children “in care” became the province of the state, but as the language used suggests, the care offered is still ostensibly mirroring the human care provided by the birth-home. Those employed in this work are deemed “carers” or “care-assistants” though the low-pay and often poor conditions of such workers, most often women and frequently migrants, reveals a society which fundamentally undervalues their contribution. (This also mirrors the generally low-level of state financial support for the so-called “invisible carers”, family members providing complex care for relatives at home.)

On the other hand, questions arise when AI machines are supposed to perform better than us — in some functional aspects of the healthcare processes, for example. This demands disambiguation of the factual and intentional dimensions of caring, as has been said. It also asks for a deeper understanding of the value of caring as an action and work ‘of presence’. Caring in fact means being present, supporting, accompanying others, often taking care of common relationships, things and environments. The intrinsic relational dimension of caring therefore emerges, shedding light on what should be evaluated beyond functional or transactional facts: love and benevolence, gift and gratitude, freedom and hope, human co-existence (which etymologically interestingly means weaving together).

It is not unconnected that social analysis of the social and economic cost of providing the care needed for a fast-growing elderly population has risen. The development of machines to assist human care or to replace it altogether has, as previously stated, gathered momentum along with the exponential possibilities offered by AI.

The value of AI in diagnostics, surgical procedures and medical therapies is broadly uncontested. We see this in the academic literature and in datasets from healthcare providers. We also see it in the wide uptake of people buying and wearing digital devices to measure vital signs, sleep, exercise and diet patterns. The step from this to machine-led personal care is, nevertheless more controversial, in social debates too.

Reported patient resistance to Assistive Technologies (ATs) in the form “care-robots” reveals a threshold in perceptions of care. It is not that the care offered by such ATs is not competent or effective, but that it is not a specifically human encounter, one where the whole person’s welfare needs and vulnerabilities are encompassed: an encounter which meets the explicit and implicit care needs– material and emotional – experienced in the home and family context. We need to understand this, not to make better robots but better humans.

In my own recent research, “Specifically Human: Human Work and Care in the Age of Machines”, with Dr Marta Rocchi, we addressed this directly in arguing for a change in our current thinking about care, not framing it as a primarily economic problem but as an essentially human gift. In this way will see each succeeding generation ATs in their proper perspective, as extensions of the human need for and impulse to offer responsive care.

This helps inform our expectations when we imagine, or invest in the scenario in which machines might eventually be able to take over all our functional tasks including care. Human beings will always have the possibility of employing their energies and resources in creating the culture, making the homes, and making the choices that enable true human flourishing. Perhaps this will also be the right moment to (re)discover the essential, perennial feature of human work: knowing the world by caring for it.

In italics is adapted from the peer reviewed version of the following article: Bertolaso, M., & Rocchi, M. (2020). Specifically Human: Human Work and Care in the Age of Machines. Business Ethics: A European Review. https://doi.org/10.1111/beer.12281 which has been published in final form at https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/beer.12281. This article may be used for non-commercial purposes in accordance with Wiley Terms and Conditions for Use of Self-Archived Versions. Specifically Human: Human Work and Care in the Age of Machines Marta Bertolaso, University Campus Biomedico Marta Rocchi, DCU Business School.

HRF is proud to celebrate 20 years as the Voice of the home. This month, Marta Bertolaso, Director of HRF and Professor of Philosophy of Science and Human Development at the University Campus Bio-Medico of Rome (Italy), writes about the Home as a place of care defining Care as an essential human gift, not just a functional task.

Between Oikia and Polis:the home as the foundation of social life

Written by Doctor Rafael Hurtado, Panamerican University, Mexico

Reclaiming the Foundation of Culture

The understanding of the concept ‘home’ as a fundamental reality of human life has undergone progressive weakening over the past decades. As daily life has become more technified, family life more fragmented, and so many domestic functions outsourced, home has tended to be reduced to a practical structure or a mere physical space for ‘coming and going’. But a more careful reading of contemporary proposals for domestic life allows for a deeper and more radical notion: home as the human core and bedrock of culture.

The Home as an Existential Homecoming

From this perspective, home cannot be understood merely as a place where one lives; but rather, as ‘the place to which one returns’, as my teacher and mentor Rafael Alvira (1942-2024) used to say. This expression, far from being trivial, contains a deeply anthropological intuition: that the home constitutes a realm of existential homecoming. It is not only a physical return but a ‘returning to one’s own origin, one’s own personal identity, and to existential belonging. In this sense, home is configured as a space mediating between individual and social life: between oikia and polis, being the point of emergence of culture itself. There is no society without the home insofar as there is no fully constituted person outside of a realm in which they have been welcomed and cared for.

Overcoming the Contemporary Crisis of Meaning

Now, the contemporary crisis of the home does not seem to derive exclusively from a lack of material resources or an overload of responsibilities, but from a deeper issue: the loss of clarity regarding its purpose, as stated by Dia Boyle in the introduction to her recent book (The Thoughtful Home, 2024[1]). When the meaning of home becomes blurred, domestic practices tend to become erratic, fragmented, or subordinated to external ways of thinking, particularly those dictated by consumerism. Faced with this scenario, a philosophical recovery of the home is essential before attempting any practical reorganization. A reflection on the ‘what’ and the ‘what for’ of the home thus becomes a condition for any possible reconstruction.

A Space of Gratuity and Human Flourishing

Within this framework, home can be defined as the space where ‘domestic family life’ unfolds in its integrity. It is not limited to satisfying material needs: rather, it addresses the emotional, intellectual and spiritual dimensions of the person. Its fundamental purpose is care, understood not as mere functional assistance, but as a condition for human flourishing. This conception introduces a decisive element: in the home, belonging is not based on merit or utility, but on being. It is therefore a space of gratuity, where a person is recognized for the simple fact of existing.

This feature of gratuity is especially relevant when we consider contemporary utilitarian or individualistic models, in which human relationships tend to be instrumentalized. By contrast, home appears as a realm which cannot be reduced to the logic of performance. As G.K. Chesterton noted, “the home is larger inside than out”, thereby emphasizing that its true breadth is not spatial, but interior. Within the home, human life happens in its totality which overflows any attempt at functional reduction.

The Architecture of a ‘Thoughtful Home’

However, this reality is not automatic or functionally mechanical. Home does not emerge spontaneously as a consequence of coexistence or as a by-product of sharing space and time. On the contrary, it requires shaping intentionally, purposefully. It is a construction that implies conscious attention to the specific needs of those who inhabit it, together with a clear orientation towards its own purpose. It is in this sense that the concept of ‘the thoughtful home’ acquires a central relevance: it refers to a home that does not allow itself to be carried away by cultural inertia or external models; rather, it introduces a framework of practical reasoning – thoughtfulness – in order to achieve its purpose.

Consciousness, understood in this context, is not reduced to a psychological dimension, but implies a form of practical lucidity. It involves knowing what the home is, why it exists, and what it demands. This knowledge is not merely theoretical. It translates into ‘concrete functions’ that order domestic life towards the care and flourishing of its members. Professor Alvira himself spoke of three domestic functions: economy, education and intimacy. From this viewpoint, the home can be conceived as an ‘instrument’ in the classical sense: a reality at the service of an end, requiring design, maintenance and constant correction.

Reclaiming the Role of the Homemaker

Historically, the person who was at the helm in directing this process of consciously building the home was the homemaker, the so-called ‘mistress of the house’ whose role referred not so much to the performance of domestic labour as to giving the home its heart and enabling its occupants to flourish. Far from reductive or stereotypical interpretations, this figure, whose role has become somewhat obscured or misrepresented in today’s world, exercises domestic functions in a loving and devoted way, configuring a space where life can be welcomed, ordered and oriented towards its fulfilment. It is not simply about the execution of ‘housework’, but an intellectual and practical labour that involves discernment, foresight and integral care.

The Quiet Catalyst for Cultural Regeneration

Finally, the relevance of the home transcends the private sphere to sit at the very heart of social life. The home constitutes the foundation of society as it is the place where those who comprise it are formed. Cultural regeneration, therefore, cannot be proposed separated from a reconstruction of the home. Without thoughtful homes, it will be difficult to form fully developed subjects or ensure the stability of social structures.

Consequently, the study of the home should not be considered a marginal topic within the academic field, but a matter of the highest magnitude. It is within the heart of the home where the type of humanity that is formed – and, ultimately, the type of society we wish to build – is decided, silently but decisively. Recovering a proper understanding of the home presents itself, thus, as an urgent task, from both an anthropological and a cultural point of view.

HRF is proud to celebrate 20 years of being the Voice of Homes. This month Dr. Rafael Hurtado, HRF collaborator and professor at Pan American University, Mexico, writes about the Home as the foundation of social life

[1] The Thoughtful Home, Scepter Publishers, inc., New York, 2024.

Practising Home: Architecture, People and Place

Prof. Gamal Abdelmonem, Director of HRF and Dean of the School of Architecture at the University of York [1].

The study of the contemporary home has always been problematic — in terms of what is meant by the word, what its boundaries are, and how it is defined. Home is one of those humanistic ideas that often seems to correspond better to the concerns of environmental psychology and social investigation than to professional design – to bricks and mortar.

The sense of home has been associated with personal perceptions of safety, security, comfort and passion. Home means a place more than a space. And from this perspective, experience, memory, feeling, interaction and context are more relevant than form, size, or precise dimension. Home is an everyday notion but one at the centre of human life and architecture. Everyday, but not simple.

Home remains an ambiguous term that retains different meanings within different cultural contexts. In Spanish, hogar is a very rich word for the place where one lives, emphasising the warmth and comfort associated with a family and dwelling. It can also refer to the physical structure of the house itself, but it more often carries a connotation of family and domestic life [2]. It distinguishes itself from casa just as, in English, there is a distinction between home and house [3].

Much of my work is concerned with cultural heritage, including that in the Arab world. Home, in Arabic, is bayt, a term the proper meaning of which is a covered shelter where one may spend the night. It describes a place where people may feel safe during the hours of darkness. This original connotation further emphasises how the concept is not bounded by specific physical forms; rather, it may be applied to a room, a house, a community, or even a city. I would argue that this breadth of understanding – explicit in Arabic – is implicit in all thriving experiences of feeling at home in a physical space.

This broad but culturally particular understanding of people and place presents big questions to architects and planners of spaces. How do you conserve this sort of place in order to keep it a living community and not a museum? How do you build places like this which allow people to feel bayt and at home in the built environment and not constrained by it? How do we as architects ‘practise Home’?

Responding to these questions, and criticisms, architectural design has been challenged to reintegrate the spatial and economic aspects of the unit of accommodation — the house — and its environmental performance, with the home as a whole. This means looking at the key decisions of residential building with an emphasis on the existing or proposed people and place. For example, in choice of materials, to consider not only what fits with requirements of the landscape, sustainability, durability and –inevitably – costs involved, but also the lived-in benefits of one architectural choice over another: How easy is it to keep clean? How sound-proof is it? Can a householder easily maintain it without specialist support?

To these basic but impactful questions should be added those deeper ones concerning how people live and thrive in communities. Where is the potential for new residential areas to evolve with use – where is the breathing space for new activities if everything has been pre-designed? Do we expect people to fulfil the requirements of the architecture or do we expect the architecture to respond to the needs of people over time? Learning lessons from our own cultural heritage and that from further afield is vital in this.

One timeless lesson made increasingly relevant in our technologically fast-moving world is that thriving communities are connected communities. The designation SMART HOMES, a now well- established concept, indicates the potential for the physical home to allow, via networked devices and services, the offer of social support to those living in them. This has immediate relevance to elderly residents or those with impaired mobility. My own research has shown the personal benefits of this as well as economic ones in the provision of healthcare [4], not hitherto an academic architect’s domain but one which speaks to the practice of home as an integrated whole.

More than this technological connectedness is the need of people to connect with each other where they live, as neighbours and within neighbourhoods. Recent work looking at loneliness as a public health crisis [5] has concluded that designing for connection should be as fundamental as designing for accessibility or sustainability. Whether it is planned opportunities for intergenerational living, shared gardens, porous yet secure boundaries, the vision should be for human connection rather than cellular efficiency. Reminding us all – professionals, policymakers and homemakers – that the places we live in shape the way we live, and how long and well we live. We need to practise home together.

HRF is proud to celebrate 20 years of being the Voice of Homes. This month, Prof. Gamal Abdelmonem, Director of HRF and Dean of the School of Architecture at the University of York, writes about Home and Space Design, one of the four pillars of research we conduct at the Home Renaissance Foundation.

[1] Most of the first section of the article is drawn from the author’s work published in Volume XXIII, Number II (2012), pages 3–5. Traditional Dwellings & Settlements Review

[2] DeepL Translate https://www.deepl.com › translator › hogar › home

[3] This article first appeared in a Spanish magazine, hence the the word ‘hogar’ appears before the English ‘home’.

[4] Abdelmonem, M. G., & Krawczyk, E. (2013). ICT developments impacting on older people’s living conditions and environment. European Commission-Value Ageing. http://www.value-ageing.eu/outputs/deliverables

[5] HLINViewpoint_111_Loneliness.pdf

It is Such a Pleasure to Celebrate Good Projects!

Written by Marta Ponikowska

With this short blog post I want to say “Happy 20th anniversary, and keep up the good work!” to the HRF Team.

I was granted an opportunity to cooperate with the HRF Team Members during preparations for the “Home in the Digital Era” event in Warsaw, in April 2019 https://homerenaissancefoundation.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/05/Warsaw-Booklet-2019.pdf -. What back then seemed to be just one more policy stakeholders meeting and ‘business as usual’ in the vibrant Polish capital city turned out to be a remarkable experience from which I am still drawing inspiration.

As a lawyer and policy analyst I must admit that “home” as a policy or law concept did not exist in my work, be it writing or speaking engagements. One is certainly familiar with “family policy/ law” or “housing policy/law” but not really with laws or policy on “the home”. The Home Renaissance Foundation and its excellent work helped me to learn and discover that “home” is a missing puzzle, and so often omitted when it comes to national law and policy development. I am delighted to see how HRF’s work over the years has brought, and continues to bring, awareness of this missing element in national and international forums – just to name a few: universities, NGOs, parliaments, international organisations.

At the very same time there is still an enormous amount of work ahead for HRF: advocacy activities, educational activities for stakeholders helping them to understand the multi-dimensionality of “home” as a law and policy concept. Lastly, strengthening the voice of the unrepresented minorities, the homemakers, who usually don’t have enough time and tools to educate the stakeholders on the meaning of “home”.

Personal Reflection on Home

Written By Susan Peatfield

As a small child I did not think about “home” in any real sense; it was simply where my mother was. She was a good homemaker and gifted cook, and we had simple and well-ordered patterns of meals and activities, but I did not realise these things until my circumstances changed when I was nine years old.

My mother had to take a job where she could not always be at home when I finished school, and so a couple of times a week I went to friends’ homes for tea. To reciprocate they all came in turn to my home on the days my mother wasn’t working. It was during this time that I now believe I learnt a lot about home.

In Mary’s home the meal was always laid ready. We were sent to wash our hands and tidy ourselves before the simple meal, when either Mary’s mother or father would say “Grace.” After the meal we all helped clear and wash-up and would then play games with the whole family.

In Cathy’s home things were busier as Cathy was one of a big family and they were very involved with work for the church and the Scouts, including running “Jumble Sales” when all the donations of second-hand goods ended up in the hall. Cathy’s mum was a great baker and once the table was cleared and the tablecloth was on we had a very happy time enjoying the meal and laughing and talking. At the end we all “mucked in” (as Cathy’s dad said) to clear and wash-up.

At Theresa’s house nothing was ready and we always began by Theresa asking her mother for some money and us walking to the local shops to buy things for tea. We would make the tea ourselves and then eat it on the sofa watching television by ourselves.

At Linda’s house the tea was laid but we had to eat and then play in silence so as to not disturb Linda’s parents, who never joined us or really spoke to us at all. My favourite days, apart from my own lovely homecomings to my mother, were when I went to Mary’s and Cathy’s and felt part of their families. Although I liked both Theresa and Linda, I dreaded going to their homes; I always felt awkward and in the way. With the benefit of over fifty years’ hindsight, I wonder now if Theresa’s parents were struggling financially and Linda’s maritally.

So I make no theory of home from these limited childhood experiences, other than the simple truth that the warmth of relationships, the culture of welcome, of gratitude and working together makes homes places which are good for everyone. Places of true hospitality, where there was a seat at the table for my nine-year-old self to feel gratefully “at home.” Experiences that have led to my life-long belief that happy homes are built on happy patterns of relationships and activities – and which lead to happy lives.