IMPACT COMMUNICATION
AND INNOVATION
AND INNOVATION
Originally created in Japan in the late 1970s, capsule hotels emerged as a low-cost lodging option designed to accommodate more people, hence the need to create capsule-sized rooms, measuring about 2 meters long and 1.25 meters wide. These establishments began opening in major Japanese business districts, as that was where their target audience was located.
Many salarymen, as white-collar workers are called in Japan, would spend the entire day at the office and then enjoy the night drinking at izakayas, a type of Japanese pub where people often go after work. The concept of capsule hotels was to offer an overnight stay so these professionals could have a place to shower, change clothes, and start their day over for a price equal to what they would pay for a long train ride back home. Instead, the option was to sleep in an individual capsule equipped with a TV and alarm, very close to work.
More than just a compact lodging concept, capsule hotels have spread around the world as a business model and have also captured the imagination of pop culture, especially when we think of science fiction works. This is because capsule hotels, since the 1970s, were already designed to look like lodging from the future. This has a lot to do with the period Japan was going through.
Since the end of World War II, a new architectural movement had been gaining strength in the country. Metabolism (shinchintaisha) emerged as a way of thinking about the combination of the synthetic and the organic by designing megastructures that grow just like a biological body.
One of the developments of Metabolism was the creation of the Nakagin Capsule Tower, a building composed of both apartments and offices, also in the style of a capsule. The project, signed by Kisho Kurokawa, took only 30 days to be built in Tokyo in 1972, and remains to this day one of the few buildings of the movement that remain preserved. These apartments were also designed with single salarymen in mind, so these compact homes offered only the basics, such as a control panel for heating and lighting, cabinets, a small stove and refrigerator, a television, and a bathroom similar in size to those on an airplane.
As they spread to the rest of the world, capsule hotels lost some of that harsher Metabolism aesthetic to gain a more digital and connected design—that is, much closer to an environment inside a spaceship than a retro-futuristic lodging. LED lights began to be incorporated into the decor, as well as mirrors, to provide a bit more depth and soften the feeling of claustrophobia.
Although most hotels opt for an astronautical inspiration, with capsules made of hard white plastic and a decor that also maintains minimalism and strong lighting as key themes, there are also examples like the KLIA2, at the Kuala Lumpur airport, where the predominance of white is replaced by black to create a more industrial environment with the incorporation of shipping containers as a structure.
As with hostels, bathrooms and common areas, when they exist, are shared. Since these lodgings were traditionally designed to serve a more male audience, the opportunity also arose to create a capsule hotel just for women, the Nadeshiko —which, on the other hand, has a "cozier" aesthetic that blends a bit of traditional Japanese culture into its decor.
In Brazil, the accommodation Capacete was the first capsule hotel to open in South America and is located in the Santa Teresa neighborhood of Rio de Janeiro. For $12 a day, guests can enjoy a capsule, though with simpler decor than international models. As noted on the establishment's website, the capsule format of the Capacete hotel was a response to the rising cost of rent in the city, also becoming an option for housing the artists the house hosts for its cultural programming, which includes shows, lectures, and meetings.
In October, I went to Mexico City to follow the Halloween and Day of the Dead festivities, but I also had the opportunity on my last day of the trip to visit the capsule hotel Izzzleep, which is located in Terminal 1 of the Mexico City International Airport. I didn't stay there, but I made a point of paying for the nap option, which includes a minimum of 2 hours of stay for $120 (approximately R$25), just to check it out.
Following the same minimalist, white, and space-inspired design, Izzzleep also offers capsules filled with LEDs and mirrors, fully embracing the Japanese and science fiction aesthetic. From personal experience, and also because I don't suffer from claustrophobia, I found it quite comfortable and would certainly prefer something like this over hostels where you literally share a room with at least one other stranger.
As soon as you arrive, you receive a kit with socks and earplugs, although I found the soundproofing to be quite good, and people are quiet the whole time in the capsule area, since you go there specifically to sleep and relax.
Industry entrepreneurs believe that capsule hotels and/or smaller-sized accommodations, such as the 7m² hotel rooms at London Gatwick Airport, are cheaper yet still comfortable options for travelers looking to save on their stay—especially in expensive cities like London.
This year, Forbes also reported that capsule hotels are projected to reach an investment of up to $226 million. According to market research by WiseGuy, Japan is undoubtedly the main player in this market, but China is also growing rapidly in the sector.
But why have people been opting for smaller and simpler accommodations during their trips, whether for leisure or business? According to researcher Frank Sorgiovanni, many travelers just want a room with the basics, such as fast WiFi, a place to charge their mobile devices, and a small desk to work at if necessary. "They don't need a full minibar and other amenities like spas or many food and drink options." According to Sorgiovanni, these hotels have been gaining more and more ground in cities with higher accommodation prices, making them major competitors to older 3 or 4-star hotels.
According to Alex Kot, co-founder of SLEEEP, a capsule hotel in Hong Kong, the combination of increasing population density, long hours in traffic, and a greater awareness of personal well-being is making people value the quality of their sleep.
Furthermore, Forbes points out that the new guests of capsule hotels, unlike the old Japanese salarymen, are young workers who are often part of creative sectors in large urban centers. As such, these individuals are much more likely to have a greater sense of sustainability than older generations.
Thus, just as there was no great demand for luxury in 1970s Japan, today's capsule hotels offer technology and comfort as their main differentiators rather than excess. Moreover, as the Forbes report argues, the futuristic design of these spaces has caught the attention of millennials—after all, if you're going to post a photo of a hotel on Instagram, it's much better if it looks like you're in a rocket ship!
In Kyoto, capsule hotels have also been offering IoT-enabled amenities, as well as co-working spaces that encourage guests to build a community and exchange experiences—something quite common in hostels, but without the lack of privacy at bedtime.
In science fiction, such as in the video game Deus Ex: Human Revolution, these accommodations can appear as a dystopian offshoot of uncontrolled global population growth, coupled with increasingly unaffordable housing prices and exacerbated social inequality. But you don't have to look far; in London, rental prices have been the cause of student strikes and listings like this one, where you have to shell out £430 a month—about $550—just to sleep on a mattress on the floor in a shared room.
In China, the situation is even more unsanitary. Beyond the fact that it is the most populous country in the world, the population density in Hong Kong is approximately 690 people per square kilometer. This is why some of the metropolis's inhabitants have resorted to a housing option that has become known as "coffin homes" (coffin homes), which demonstrates the dark side of the real estate boom. It is estimated today that about 200,000 people live in these conditions, where it is barely possible to stretch your legs, in spaces that can cost around $580 a month.
Now, while on one hand younger generations are giving up major luxuries, the accumulation of objects, and unnecessary expenses, it is through technology that they can trade a minibar full of drinks and room service for fast Wi-Fi and a Netflix account connected to a smart TV inside a capsule lit by colorful LEDs.
On the other hand, however, this possibility, combined with the idea of Moore's Lawas technology advances and costs decrease, it must also reach places beyond airports and commercial hubs frequented by creative young people: peripheral areas and low-income populations should also be covered by these housing solutions.
If the trend is to act more consciously in our consumption, understanding that access and collaboration are far more important and useful than ownership, we must first make these solutions accessible to audiences beyond the current one. If the future is shared and collaborative, then it must also be inclusive, so that it isn't just me—a creative millennial living in an urban center—who has access to it.
