Evolutionary Roots of Flat Land Preference
Figure: An open, flat landscape with distant horizons, similar to the African savannas where early humans evolved. Early human ancestors spent formative millennia on open flatlands (such as the East African savannas), which offered crucial survival advantages. One influential idea, the Savanna Hypothesis, proposes that humans developed an innate affinity for savanna-like settings – flat or gently rolling terrain with scattered trees and water – because such environments provided abundant resources and safety . In evolutionary terms, wide-open landscapes allowed early humans to spot prey and predators from afar, affording both hunting opportunities and early warning of danger. Psychologists note that humans tend to prefer landscapes where they can “see without being seen,” a classic prospect-refuge scenario . Flat terrain with low vegetation offers this high visibility, letting one observe the surroundings while avoiding hidden threats.
Mobility was another key factor. Traversing long distances to forage or migrate is easier on flat ground than on rugged hills or dense forest. Researchers have found that humans instinctively favor environments with “spaciousness” and ground surfaces conducive to movement, reflecting the adaptive value of unhindered locomotion on open plains . In our evolutionary past, a flat, unobstructed landscape meant tribes could travel and follow game herds with relative ease, crucial for a nomadic lifestyle.
Flat lands also supported early tool use and social cooperation in hunting. The open savanna enabled persistence hunting (chasing prey until it tired) and cooperative strategies that might be impossible in tangled forests. Some anthropologists argue that the challenges of open environments – like finding water or tracking herds – spurred cognitive development and social organization in hominins . Raymond Dart, describing humanity’s African genesis, envisioned “a vast open country with occasional wooded belts” as the “laboratory” of human evolution, where intelligence and bipedalism were honed by the demands of life on the plains .
Importantly, as the Pleistocene gave way to the Holocene, humans began practicing agriculture, and again flat lands beckoned. The first farming societies took root in fertile river valleys and floodplains – flat landscapes like Mesopotamia, the Nile Valley, the Indus Valley, and China’s Yellow River basin. These areas offered rich soils and water for irrigation, making them ideal for cultivation . It is no coincidence that the earliest civilizations emerged on flat alluvial plains where food could be grown in abundance. Archaeogeography confirms that flat, arable land was prized by early settlers because it was easy to plow, fertile for crops, and amenable to building infrastructure and roads . In short, from the hunter-gatherer era through the agrarian revolution, humans repeatedly gravited to flat lands for their practical benefits: safety through visibility, freedom of movement, and productive capacity. These ancient preferences form the deep evolutionary bedrock of our modern attraction to wide-open spaces .
Psychological and Neurological Appeal of Open Spaces
On a psychological level, humans today continue to find flat, open landscapes soothing and inviting in ways that are rooted in our cognition and neurology. Research in environmental psychology shows that people generally feel safer and more relaxed in open areas than in confined or closed-in settings . This aligns with our innate prospect preference – we feel at ease when we can survey our environment without obstruction. Wide horizons and expansive vistas unconsciously signal that no predators or threats are immediately lurking nearby, which lowers stress. By contrast, enclosed spaces or dense thickets can induce wariness (too many hiding spots for danger) or claustrophobia. As Appleton’s Prospect-Refuge theory describes, humans seek a balance of prospect (clear view) and refuge (a sheltered spot) for optimal comfort . An open plain with a few trees at the edges is the archetype of such a comforting environment – we can see everything, but also retreat under a tree if needed.
Modern neuroscience has begun to illuminate how our brains respond to open versus enclosed spaces. In controlled experiments, participants consistently prefer high-ceiling, open rooms with views to the outside over windowless, tight spaces . Not only do people report liking open settings more, but their brains respond differently as well. Notably, one study using fMRI brain scans found that viewing open scenes activated neural areas associated with vision and spatial movement, whereas enclosed scenes activated regions involved in fear processing . In essence, open spaces encourage an approach response – the brain perceives an opportunity to explore – while cramped spaces can trigger a mild defensive reaction. Participants even showed quick “approach or avoid” instincts: they were more likely to say they’d move toward and enter an open room, and to call that space beautiful, whereas they instinctively balked at entering a confined room . Enclosed environments have also been shown to heighten stress – for example, a study found that being in a windowless, tight space prolonged people’s stress responses after a stressful task, compared to being in a more open room . We intuitively relax in open settings, but remain on guard in enclosed ones, reflecting ancient survival programming.
Even visual exposure to flat, open nature has measurable calming effects. Gazing at a wide horizon – whether an ocean, a prairie, or just an open sky – can induce a tranquil, almost meditative state. Neuroscientist Andrew Huberman explains that when we broaden our gaze to take in a panoramic view, it triggers a shift in the brainstem that reduces vigilance and anxiety . In our evolutionary past, scanning a broad horizon and seeing no immediate danger would signal that it’s safe to let our guard down. Modern “horizon gazing” reproduces this effect: as we look at a distant, flat horizon, our field of view expands, our breathing may deepen, and the body switches from “fight-or-flight” mode to a relaxed mode . In fact, simply widening one’s eyes and unfocusing on any single point (as we do when admiring a vast landscape) is a quick technique to reduce stress – it tells the brain that it can stop searching for threats and instead enjoy the scenery .
Psychologically, flat open spaces are often described as giving a sense of freedom and clarity. Many people report that standing in a wide plain or looking out over a flat desert brings feelings of peace, insignificance, and awe – a reminder of the vastness of the world. Studies on creativity and awe have even suggested that such expansive environments can boost creative thinking and induce awe, a positive emotion linked to improved well-being . With fewer visual distractions or clutter in view, the mind is freer to wander and reflect. This is akin to how minimalistic, open-plan architectures make occupants feel calmer and more focused. Without a jumble of objects or walls confining our sight, our cognitive load lightens – the brain has an easier job processing the scene . In open, simple environments, we experience less sensory overstimulation and can mentally “breathe” easier. Emotional clarity often follows environmental clarity; hence, people seek out beaches, grasslands, and flat mountaintop plateaus for inspiration and relief. The flat land gives space for the mind. In short, the human brain seems wired to respond positively to flat, open settings – reducing fear, lowering stress, and even sparking moments of creative or spiritual calm.
Cultural Significance of Flat Landscapes
Flat lands have not only guided human survival – they have deeply influenced our cultures, arts, and beliefs. Different societies, based on their geography, have ascribed varied meanings to flat landscapes, ranging from sacred abundance to desolate freedom. One prominent example is the culture of the North American Great Plains. For centuries, both Native American Plains tribes and later Euro-American settlers developed a cultural reverence for the vast prairies. The Great Plains were seen as the embodiment of frontier freedom – an open realm where the only limit was the horizon. 19th-century writers and artists often described the prairie with awe, emphasizing the “vast expanse of earth and sky, at once uplifting and humbling” that shaped those who lived under its canopy . The plains became a symbol of opportunity and spiritual renewal in American lore. As one account notes, Americans framed their young nation’s identity around its spacious nature: Europe had history, but America had endless Nature, epitomized by the flat prairies that offered a near-transcendental communion with the divine . Even today, Midwestern culture cherishes the image of rolling wheat fields under a “big sky,” associating it with honesty, hard work, and God’s plenty.
Agrarian societies around the world have similarly venerated flat, fertile land as a source of life. In Japan, for instance, where arable flat land is scarce amid mountains, the rice paddy holds special cultural importance. Japanese farmers traditionally honor Ta-no-Kami, the god of the rice field, as a guardian of harvests . Little stone shrines to this rice-field deity dot the edges of rice paddies. The existence of a rice field god underscores how flat, arable fields are seen as sacred gifts – the flat land that feeds the community is personified and worshiped in Shinto belief. (In Shinto cosmology, mountains are revered too, but it’s notable that the flat rice plain has its own deity.) Similarly, across Southeast Asia and other rice-growing cultures, harvest festivals and rituals center on the planted flat fields, celebrating them as symbols of prosperity, nourishment, and cyclic renewal.
In European art and literature, flat landscapes have carried rich symbolism as well. The Dutch, living in the low flat Netherlands, famously produced landscape paintings with very low horizons and expansive skies during their Golden Age. These paintings often emphasize the flatness of Dutch polders and pastures, sometimes to signify humankind’s humble place under heaven (the sky dominating the scene). Artists like Jacob van Ruisdael would place tiny human figures or buildings against a sweeping flat horizon, a visual metaphor for humanity’s smallness in God’s vast world. In the 19th century, Romantic painters took this further: Caspar David Friedrich’s “Monk by the Sea” (1809) is an iconic example featuring a featureless flat shoreline and an immense sky . The tiny monk stands on a low, level strand, dwarfed by a nearly infinite horizontal expanse of sea and clouded sky. By eliminating mountains or trees and using a flat horizon, Friedrich evoked feelings of melancholy, awe, and the sublime – the flat emptiness was symbolic of the infinite (and of God or nature’s overwhelming scale) . Thus, in art, flat lands can symbolize eternity, openness, and sometimes desolation, depending on context. Literature likewise uses plains and flat ground metaphorically: for example, Russian novels and poems often use the endless steppe as a backdrop that represents freedom but also loneliness. In classical mythology, it’s telling that the Greek paradise was the Elysian Fields – depicted as sunny, peaceful meadows – implying that a flat, wide field full of gentle life was the happiest of realms.
Cultural attitudes toward flat vs. hilly landscapes can also vary. Some cultures born in dense forests or mountains initially saw open flats as empty or even intimidating. For instance, recent cross-cultural studies found that while Western city-dwellers consistently prefer semi-open or open landscapes, certain indigenous groups from forested regions actually favor thicker vegetation and do not rate open plains as highly . This suggests that familiarity and experience shape how a culture values flat land. Nomadic steppe peoples like the Mongols, on the other hand, celebrated the flat grasslands in their poetry and songs as the embodiment of freedom and the eternal sky. The Mongols had a concept of the “Tenger” (sky) and the open steppe as spiritually significant – for a rider on the steppe, no walls hindered the soul. Meanwhile, settled societies like ancient Egyptians identified their flat Nile floodplain as the providence of their gods (the god Osiris was mythically the giver of barley and wheat on the flat fields). In religious narratives, flat places are often where important events occur: the Bible speaks of “valleys” of vision or decision, and plains as sites of assembly (e.g. the Plain of Megiddo for the final battle, or the flat plains of Moab where Moses addressed Israel). Even in language, we find echoes of valuing openness: to “have broad horizons” means to be open-minded and free in thought, whereas “narrow” horizons imply limitation. Across many cultures, the idea of the “open field” is positive – it connotes honesty, opportunity, and a level playing ground for all – whereas being “up against a wall” or “in a box” is negative. In sum, flat lands have been imbued with meanings of freedom, abundance, and even spiritual promise in human culture. Whether as the endless prairie of the American West, the idyllic pastoral meadow of poetry, or the holy rice paddies of East Asia, flat landscapes resonate deeply in our shared imagination.
Aesthetic Attraction to Flatness and Minimalism
Beyond survival and culture, there is an aesthetic and philosophical allure to flatness and simplicity that permeates fields like art, architecture, and design. Humans often describe flat, minimalist scenes as beautiful or tranquil to behold. This aesthetic preference is visible in everything from how we design our cities to the art we hang on walls. At its core is the idea that “less is more” – a flat, unembellished space can be calming and elegant, whereas complexity and unevenness can feel chaotic.
In visual art, the power of a flat horizon or large unbroken plane has long been recognized. Photographers, for instance, love capturing images of salt flats, deserts, or calm seas precisely because these flat expanses create striking compositions and evoke emotion. A photograph of a lone traveler walking across a flat desert at sunrise, with the horizon nearly at mid-frame, conveys solitude, clarity, and infinity. The flatness simplifies the scene, drawing the eye to colors and light. Many landscape photographers wait for moments when land and sky flatten into bands of color (such as a glowing horizon line at dawn/dusk) to produce an image that feels almost abstract in its simplicity. Viewers often find such images peaceful and expansive, as if they could mentally step into the open scene. The aesthetic concept of the sublime in Western art often involved overwhelming scenes (like towering Alps), but just as often painters achieved awe through empty space and flatness – letting a huge flat cloud or ocean fill the canvas to dwarf the observer. Mark Rothko, the abstract expressionist, even created large canvases of blurred, flat blocks of color; he intended viewers to stand close and feel enveloped by these expansive “horizons” of color, hopefully reaching a meditative, emotional state. In these ways, artists leverage flat simplicity to engage the viewer’s imagination and feelings.
Architecture and interior design also harness our attraction to flat, open spaces. One clear example is the Prairie School of architecture founded by Frank Lloyd Wright. Wright was explicitly inspired by the broad, flat Midwestern prairie and designed houses with low-pitched flat roofs, strong horizontal lines, and open interior spaces to echo that flat landscape . His Prairie houses (like the Robie House) have extended horizontal profiles and rows of windows, making the building appear ground-hugging and integrated with the flat earth around it. This horizontal emphasis creates a sense of stability, calm, and connection to the land . Wright believed a flat, spreading house felt more organically tied to nature than a vertical, multi-story one. In modern urban planning, flat terrains have enabled the creation of gridiron city layouts (like Manhattan’s streets or the orderly avenues of many capital cities) that many find aesthetically pleasing for their regularity and openness. Grand urban parks are often designed around flat open lawns – think of the sweeping flat Mall in Washington D.C. or Central Park’s Sheep Meadow – providing visual relief and communal space in the dense city. Planners know that people psychologically enjoy a balance in cities: some enclosure (interesting skylines) but also open, flat areas to congregate and relax.
The principles of minimalism in design further illustrate why flatness appeals. Minimalist design in graphics and user interfaces, sometimes called “flat design”, deliberately avoids excessive ornamentation, shadows, or 3D effects in favor of clean flat colors and simple shapes. Users often find such interfaces more intuitive and calming because the flat simplicity reduces cognitive overload . Our eyes and brains don’t have to decipher clutter or complex depth cues; instead, we can focus on the essential content. In interior decor, many people find a spare, open-plan room more relaxing than a busy, crowded one. A flat white wall with maybe one piece of art can be more satisfying than a wall crammed with decoration. Psychologically, empty or flat space “calms the eye and allows the mind to wander,” as described in the context of Japanese Zen gardens . In a Zen rock garden, wide flat expanses of raked gravel represent the sea or emptiness; these gardens celebrate space as much as objects, using flatness to induce contemplation . The gravel’s flat surface, with subtle ripples, is intentionally minimalist – it’s a visual metaphor for a still mind. Observers often report that sitting before a Zen garden’s flat plane of sand and stone is deeply calming; the simplicity reveals beauty rather than hiding it. This idea has permeated modern design: architects and designers strive to create environments with clean lines, open sight lines, and flat surfaces (floors, roofs, tables) to foster a sense of order and tranquility. We intuit that a flat, uncluttered space is harmonious.
- For example, contemporary minimalist homes often feature flat monochrome walls and large floor-to-ceiling windows opening onto a flat vista, blurring indoors and outdoors and giving a liberating sense of space.
- In product design, the popularity of sleek, flat forms (from flat-screen TVs to smooth glass smartphones) speaks to aesthetic preferences for simplicity. These designs “feel” easier to engage with, just as a flat path is easier to walk.
Ultimately, the aesthetic draw of flat lands and flat design stems from the balance and clarity they offer. Our eyes find rest in uniform surfaces and horizontal lines. Our minds find meaning in negative space and levelness – perhaps a subconscious recall of peaceful horizons. Minimalism’s mantra of simplicity aligns with the visual effect of a flat landscape: both strip away the superfluous to let us appreciate form, color, and light in a pure way. Whether it’s a photographer capturing the endless flat horizon of the ocean, an architect aligning a roof with the horizontal plane of the ground, or a designer choosing a flat layout for a website, the choice to favor flatness reflects a desire to invoke calm, focus, and an elegant beauty. Flat lands, in life and art, give us a canvas on which the drama of existence can unfold clearly – a space where we can breathe, roam, and imagine without impediment.
Sources:
- Evolutionary and anthropology perspectives on landscape preference
- Psychological and neurological studies on open vs. enclosed spaces
- Cultural and historical examples of flat land significance
- Aesthetic and design insights on minimalism and flat landscapes