Designing Homes, Not Hotels: Why Care Environments Must Feel Like Sanctuary - A Reflection by Shrien Dewani

By: Shrien Dewani 

This week, one of my absolute highlights has been working with ADG Architects and John Bell as we continue the design journey for our new build projects. 

I always enjoy working with John. He is a seasoned architect with decades of experience in the care sector, but more importantly, he is someone who genuinely cares about creating communities that work for the people who live in them. That matters, because buildings shape lives. In social care, they shape emotions, identity, autonomy and connection. 

My ongoing concern with the “hotel model” of care 

For some years now, I’ve held a quiet but persistent reservation about the way parts of the UK market have moved towards a hotel-style care home. 

I understand the commercial logic, these projects require large capital investment, and naturally investors seek a return. But I remain unconvinced that a “hotel” genuinely supports the lived experience of people on a dementia or cognitive journey. 

Hotels are wonderful for a week’s break. But after a few days, most of us start craving something deeper: 

the safety of our own space; the comfort of the familiar; the ability to be ourselves without performance or pretence. 

What do people really mean when they say, “I want to go home”? 

At Evolve Care Academy, we often ask our teams a very simple question: 

If someone living with us says, “Please take me home,” what are they really communicating? 

If we physically took them back to their previous address, would they recognise it as home? For many people on a dementia journey, the answer is often no. 

So, what does “home” mean? 

It is not bricks and mortar. 

It is psychological safety. 

It is emotional regulation. 

It is the sense of being known without judgement, where you don’t have to dress up, perform or be “on show”. 

In my own home, on a quiet day, you might find me in pyjamas at 3pm, curled up on the sofa, with friends coming and going, and a level of “organised chaos” that makes perfect sense to me. That is home: the freedom to exist as your authentic self. 

Why hotel-style environments can inadvertently work against this 

The hotel aesthetic risks giving an impression, not intentionally, but subtly, that life should be polished, curated, “on display”. 

But people living with dementia deserve the opposite: spaces that allow them to feel grounded, soothed, and deeply safe. 

So how should we design for emotional safety? 

This is the question John, and I explored together this week. 

How do we build communities that truly support: 

• Psychological comfort 

• Sensory calm 

• Relational connection 

• Autonomy and everyday rhythms 

• The dignity of being oneself 

It was inspiring to hear his creative thinking on how architecture can actively nurture emotional security. And it reaffirmed something I believe strongly: the environment is not a backdrop; it is an active ingredient of care. 

Care homes must feel like home 

As we progress with our new build projects, our ambition is simple but profound: 

To create communities that feel like sanctuary. 

Not hotels. 

Not institutions. 

But genuine homes, places where people can live, breathe, belong, and be their truest selves. 

That is the standard we must hold ourselves to. 

And it’s a privilege to design with people who share that vision.