Ask legendary architect Norman Foster what, if anything, he would like to change about Apple’s recently constructed headquarters in Cupertino, California, and he will need a moment to think. The famed architect, whose firm spent eight meticulous years perfecting the plans for Apple’s sprawling, glassy campus—often referred to as Campus 2 or Apple Park—is mostly pleased with the results. The circular, spaceship-like structure is widely considered a marvel of modern engineering and architectural design. But as Foster reflected during an appearance at the WIRED Business Conference, there is one specific element of the massive undertaking that gives him pause as he looks toward the horizon of urban planning and technological change.
That single hesitation centers not on the sweeping glass panels, the seamless interior finishes, or the sprawling natural landscaping that defines the corporate ecosystem, but rather on the changing patterns of transportation. Apple’s futuristic headquarters features a massive underground parking garage built to accommodate up to 11,000 vehicles. In the present era, such an amenity is essential for a workforce numbering in the thousands, ensuring seamless daily commutes and hiding vehicular congestion away from the pristine, tree-lined surface grounds.
However, looking down the road, Foster recognizes that the paradigm of personal transportation is shifting rapidly. In the not-too-distant future, it is entirely possible that privately owned cars and traditional parking structures will become far less central to daily life. Autonomous vehicles, ridesharing networks, and alternative transit methods could drastically reduce the sheer volume of cars needing long-term daytime storage.
Reflecting on this inevitable societal evolution, Foster noted that conventional architectural assumptions about parking must be reconsidered. If he could turn back the clock and approach the project a second time around, he said he would apply considerable persuasive pressure to alter the structural specifications of the subterranean facility. Specifically, he would advocate for increasing the floor-to-floor height of the car park. By designing those subterranean levels with greater vertical clearance and structural adaptability, the massive spaces could be far more easily retrofitted into habitable areas, community spaces, or alternative facilities if they are no longer filled to capacity with automobiles in the coming decades.
For Foster, this forward-thinking adaptability is central to the future of workplace design. It is a philosophy that might initially sound counterintuitive to those familiar with Steve Jobs and his unrelenting, microscopic attention to detail. Foster vividly recalls when the late Apple co-founder first approached him in 2009 to discuss the ambitious project of building a brand-new corporate campus that would reflect the company’s ethos and values.
From their very first conversations, Jobs had a remarkably clear and uncompromising vision for what the project needed to achieve. The late Apple CEO insisted that the massive main building lie low to the ground, ensuring it would naturally blend into the surrounding California landscape rather than dominate it like a traditional towering skyscraper. Jobs dictated virtually every minute aspect of the physical environment, ranging from the custom-designed door handles and the specialized building materials to the ultra-tight tolerances required throughout every phase of construction.
Among Jobs’s most notable obsessions was an uncompromising fascination with glass. He wanted to maximize transparency to encourage a continuous, unbroken connection between the indoor work environments and the natural outdoors. This dedication to eliminating architectural barriers was taken to extraordinary lengths, such as the engineering of a massive, custom door integrated into the campus’s expansive restaurant. This specialized door was designed to open completely in just 12 seconds, effectively dissolving the physical boundary between the interior dining space and the outside world.
Given such a strict, uncompromising adherence to a singular creative vision, observers might easily assume that flexibility would be stifled during the design and construction process. Yet, according to Foster, the exact reverse is true. The most enduring, successful buildings in architectural history actually require a strong, definitive point of view. They must be thoughtfully and rigorously designed not only to look striking in the present, but to intelligently adapt to the ways human beings and broader society will inevitably change over time. Achieving this level of longevity requires far more than simply relying on fashionable trends like open-plan office layouts; it demands structural foresight and deep psychological understanding.
Ultimately, Foster contends that the most enduring workplaces of the future will take into account the deep-rooted desires of the people who spend their daily lives there. Modern architectural design must prioritize smart paths of physical circulation that naturally help people connect with one another, fostering collaboration and spontaneous communication. Instead of sequestering employees into isolated glass boxes or sterile cubicles, forward-thinking corporate campuses should actively encourage workers to engage with nature, sunlight, and open green spaces.
To remain truly competitive in attracting and retaining top-tier talent, architects and corporate leaders must think far beyond basic productivity metrics. From the very beginning of his career, Foster has consistently protested the conventional notion that an office headquarters—whether it operates on a mega or micro scale—should be exclusively about work. In his view, a modern workplace is not merely a machine for generating output; it is fundamentally about lifestyle, well-being, and human connection.
