We measure how people feel when they buy a coffee or a pair of socks. But we never ask how they feel when they pay their rent. The forgotten experience of living.
We measure how people feel when they buy a coffee or a pair of socks. But we never ask how they feel when they pay their rent.
Last week, I bought a few pairs of socks in my favorite store. A few hours later, an email arrived: a neat digital receipt, attached to a friendly message. And of course, the familiar question: "How did we help you today?"
I actually like that. Not because I'm eager to fill out surveys, but because it signals something simple: someone cares about how I felt.
Later that day, I opened my bank app and saw that my rent had been withdrawn. And that's when it struck me: no one has ever asked me how that feels. Not my housing company, not the property manager, not the developer.
Who is the customer, really, in housing? And why does nobody seem to take responsibility for their experience?
I started my career at fifteen, working at the bottle return belt of a supermarket. Even then, I was fascinated by people: by who they were, what kind of evening they'd had, what story sat behind each returned bottle.
That curiosity grew into a career in Customer Experience. In retail, I learned that true service isn't about selling; it's about seeing. In hospitality, I learned that a customer can become a guest: that experience stretches beyond the transaction into memory, emotion, belonging.
And then, years later, I entered the world of real estate. Suddenly, the guest became a resident. But the experience stayed behind.
Maybe it's time to design living with the same attention we give to shopping.
In real estate, we obsess over square meters, yields, and cost per build. We optimize timelines and spreadsheets. But rarely do we ask: what do we actually want people to feel here?
We spend millions designing materials, but almost nothing designing emotions. We measure NPS scores after a coffee purchase, but we don't ask how people feel when they come home every night.
There's no satisfaction survey for the most important journey of all: life inside our walls.
That realization became the start of a new mission, a kind of modern crusade I'm on. Together with developers, architects, and technology partners, we're working to bring experience thinking into how we design and operate living environments.
I use the same four pillars that have guided me through years in CX: brand, journey, operations, and technology.
- Brand: What identity and emotion should this place evoke? - Journey: What moments shape the resident's story, before, during, and after moving in? - Operations: How do we embed hospitality and human care into everyday maintenance? - Technology: How can digital infrastructure support well-being, safety, and connection?
These pillars are not marketing tools. They are design principles for human-centered living.
In one of our recent projects, we're developing 200 apartments for young adults. Instead of starting with blueprints and budgets, we started with empathy: What do young people need most right now?
The answer was clear: connection. Loneliness and social isolation are growing challenges.
So, we redesigned the program. Smaller individual kitchens, and shared spaces for cooking, eating, belonging. Digital infrastructure that helps people connect and care for each other.
We did the same for senior housing: less focus on clinical safety, more on digital care and emotional ease. Because technology isn't just an operational tool: it's part of daily life. Every resident walks in with a smartphone that's more powerful than the computer Nixon used to govern a nation. So why not design for that reality?
"The true journey of living only starts when the building is complete."
We're currently conducting a national study in the Netherlands, analyzing online reviews of residential buildings, from social housing to luxury apartments. Because, interestingly, residents are already talking about their experiences. Just not to the people who built them.
Their opinions live in WhatsApp groups, neighborhood forums, and Google reviews: a rich stream of human insight that no one in real estate seems to be listening to.
And what we're finding is honestly stunning.
Even in the most high-end towers of Amsterdam, the level of service is alarmingly low. Residents paying thousands of euros a month still walk downstairs to collect their packages while a receptionist sits behind the desk.
Across every segment, social, mid-range, luxury, the same pattern emerges: a complete lack of service design thinking in the living experience.
Because during development or transformation, no one truly asks: what does it take to live well here?
Architects believe their job ends when the drawings are delivered. Builders think they're finished when the key is handed over. But that's actually the moment when the real experience begins.
A developer who understands this, and builds an infrastructure around resident experience, doesn't just sell apartments. They earn lifelong loyalty. Students grow into families, families into downsizers, and the cycle continues.
Because whether it's rent or ownership, the true journey of living only starts when the building is complete.
"Experience is not a layer we add; it's the lens through which we should build."
Ironically, real estate is now repeating the same mistakes retail made twenty years ago: investing millions in software, platforms, and dashboards, without a human vision.
Experience isn't a system upgrade. It's a mindset. A way of thinking, designing, and empathizing.
Retail eventually learned that the store isn't just a place to sell. It's a stage for feeling. Real estate is about to learn the same truth.
A conceptual model for designing spaces, services, and systems that prioritise human connection. This framework positions the living experience as the central organising principle, supported by four interdependent pillars that work in harmony to create meaningful, empathetic environments.
Each element serves a distinct yet interconnected role. Brand establishes the emotional foundation and cultural meaning. Journey maps the human touchpoints and lived moments. Operations translates intentions into consistent, caring delivery. Technology weaves systems together with sensitivity and purpose.
The framework's strength lies not in the individual components, but in their integration. When aligned, these four pillars create environments where people feel seen, understood, and genuinely cared for, where experience transcends transaction and becomes something truly living.
I believe the greatest innovation in living won't come from sustainability metrics, or modular construction, or AI-driven property management.
It will come from empathy.
From the courage to ask, before we build anything: What do we want people to feel here?
Because when we design with that intention, we don't just construct buildings. We create belonging.
The customer became a guest. The guest became a resident. And maybe now, it's time we relearn what it truly means: to come home.
This article is part of my weekly Deep Dive series, exploring how experience design can transform the way we live, work, and belong.
I'm Jeroen, working at the intersection of experience design, real estate, and technology. Through research, strategy, and partnerships, I help developers, architects, and brands create places that don't just function, they feel.
Currently exploring how empathy can become the new foundation of living.
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