​The Interior Life of an Elevator

A Whiteheadian Approach

One of the values of Whitehead's philosophy of organism, with its idea that something like "experience" goes all the way down into the depths of matter, all the way out into the expanses of the heavens, and all the way around us in the world of objects, is that it raises the question: "Is experience everywhere? Where is experience and where is it not?"
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Consider, for example, elevators: both the walls of the elevator and the empty space which is then occupied by temporary inhabitants who ascend and descend in it.  We know that the inhabitants have experiences? But how about the elevator itself: its walls, cables, and air? Here are some questions that arise:

1. Is an elevator merely a machine, or does it participate in the experiences of those who enter it?
2. Does an elevator absorb or retain the moods of its temporary inhabitants in any way?
3. Is the empty space of an elevator truly empty, or does it contain molecules, atoms, and energies that might interact with human emotions?
4. Can the physical structure of an elevator—its walls, cables, and air—somehow carry traces of past experiences?
5. If human emotions have a physical component (such as electromagnetic fields or chemical signals), do they leave an imprint within the confined space of an elevator?
6. In what ways does an elevator reflect the metaphorical nature of going up and down in life—our successes, our setbacks, our transitions?
7. How does stepping into an elevator change our sense of space and movement, given that we briefly surrender control to a machine?
8. Is there a kind of presence within an elevator—not consciousness, but a lingering effect of human activity?
9. If we think of an elevator as a vessel, does it act as a container for human movement, emotions, and moments of anticipation?
10. Do elevators, like well-worn spaces, develop a kind of character over time, shaped by the interactions they facilitate?
11. Could the subtle tension or comfort felt upon entering an elevator be due to something beyond psychology—an actual lingering of past moods?
12. What would it mean to treat an elevator as more than a passive object but as something that participates in the rhythms of life?
13. How might an elevator’s presence be different from that of a staircase, hallway, or other transitional space?
14. If an elevator does retain something, what kind of “memory” would this be—physical, energetic, or something else?

​​A Whiteheadian Response

A Whiteheadian might respond to these questions by emphasizing that while an elevator, as a whole, is not an experiencing subject, it consists of many actual entities—energy-events—that do experience at some level. In Whitehead’s panexperientialist view, no actuality is entirely inert. The walls, cables, and air of the elevator are composed of energy-events that interact with their environment. These micro-level actualities respond to their surroundings, even if in ways that are imperceptible to human consciousness.
From this perspective, the moods and emotions of passengers might indeed leave subtle imprints—not as conscious memories, but as traces in the ongoing flow of reality.

Whitehead’s concept of prehension suggests that each entity takes in aspects of its past and integrates them into its becoming. While an elevator does not “remember” in a human sense, the elements composing it—particles, forces, materials—are not wholly unaffected by the experiences occurring within its space.
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Thus, while an elevator may not be an experiencing subject in its own right, it is not wholly disconnected from experience. It is a participant in the ongoing interplay of relationality, where even the seemingly inanimate is woven into the fabric of feeling, memory, and existence. It is, to use Whitehead's language, a 'society' of energy-events that exists as long as the elevator exists, with traces of feeling, memory, and existence in its ongoing process of becoming.

Personality

Whiteheadian thought allows for the possibility that societies of actual entities, such as an elevator, can develop a kind of personality without having experiences of their own. Just as a city or an ecosystem might be said to have a distinctive character shaped by its constituents, an elevator's presence may be shaped by the cumulative effects of the interactions it hosts, even if it lacks direct subjective awareness. The personality of an elevator, however, is relational in nature—it depends on the architecture surrounding it, its use, and the people who ride in it. A hotel elevator, for example, may have a different feel than a hospital elevator, not just due to design but because of the emotions and activities it facilitates. The rhythm of its movement, the frequency of its use, and the nature of the conversations held within it all contribute to its evolving character.

What is said here applies to many other kinds of public spaces as well. A library, for example, has a different atmosphere than a shopping mall, shaped by the nature of activities and the emotional energies within them. A courtroom carries the weight of deliberation and judgment, while a playground is filled with the echoes of laughter and movement. Even a quiet waiting room, where people anticipate news or transitions, accumulates a certain presence over time. Each space, like an elevator, participates in the rhythms of life, shaped by the people who pass through it and the purposes it serves. In short, while an elevator and other public spaces may not have an interior life in the same way that people and other sentient beings do, it nevertheless has a 'public life.'

Beauty​

The idea of panexperientialism can rightly be extended to include the many kinds of humanly built objects that have public lives of their own and serve as contexts for people and other living beings with private lives.

This invites consideration of beauty—not only as an aesthetic quality but as an emergent property of relationality. An elevator, like any well-designed space, can carry a certain elegance, shaped by its form, materials, and the experiences it facilitates. Whitehead describes beauty as a harmony of contrasts, an achieved intensity of experience. In this sense, an elevator’s beauty is not just in its sleek design or mechanical precision but in the subtle ways it holds and reflects the rhythms of life within it. Its movement, its function, and its place in the larger architectural whole contribute to an aesthetic presence, revealing that even the most mundane spaces can possess a quiet grace.

The purpose of the quiet grace is to enhance the experience of the inhabitants of the elevator. From a design perspective, elevators are not only functional but also spaces that impact human perception and comfort. Ergonomics, the study of optimizing environments for human use, plays a crucial role in how elevators are designed and experienced. Button placement, lighting, floor space, and even air circulation contribute to the psychological and physical ease of passengers. Handrails provide stability, soft lighting reduces feelings of confinement, and accessible controls ensure inclusivity for all users. In this sense, the experience of an elevator is not only shaped by its relational presence but also by its intentional design, which mediates the human interactions within it.

​Here the beauty is itself relational and instrumental - a relation between the elevator and the users. It is how the users "concresce" their experience of the elevator, how they experience it from their own subjective points of view. Their subjectivity is the interior life of the elevator. It is not a single subjectivity but a manifold one.  A subjectivity that is different for every person. The person may not really notice the elevator at a conscious level, He or she may take it for granted, a mere means to the end of arriving at a location outside it. But the elevator is not jealous for gratitude. The elevator does what it does, with its unique personality, and helps the person travel. The elevator is a vehicle, a mode of transport, and humbly satisfied with its vocation. This humility is part of its beauty.