Architecture for Digital Twins of People

Building design
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Architectural photography of the Pier 27 condominiums in Toronto with a glass facade, taken by Justin Ziadeh

Architecture for Digital Twins of Humans: Mapping the Self as the Architectural Task of the Future? Anyone who thinks the digital twin is just another buzzword from the tech world is underestimating the explosive potential of this development. For what happens when we no longer just recreate buildings and cities in bits and bytes, but ourselves—precisely, simulated, and connected? Welcome to the playing field between utopia, control mania, and design avant-garde.

  • The human digital twin is more than a 3D avatar—it is a representation, an analytical tool, and a predictive model all at once.
  • Germany, Austria, and Switzerland are still hesitant by international standards, but initial pilot projects point to a paradigm shift.
  • Digital twins are revolutionizing the planning, operation, and use of buildings—and challenging traditional roles in the field of architecture.
  • Artificial intelligence and big data are the drivers, but also the stumbling blocks on the path to individualized modeling.
  • Sustainability, data protection, and ethical issues are the greatest challenges—and the greatest opportunities at the same time.
  • Technical expertise in BIM, IoT, and data management is becoming a must for architects, engineers, and developers.
  • In the tension between commerce, control, and creativity, entirely new business models and design approaches are emerging.
  • Global pioneers such as South Korea, Singapore, and the U.S. are showing where this journey might lead—with both opportunities and risks in tow.
  • Critics warn of algorithmic bias, surveillance, and digital fatalism—but also of the fear of losing one’s own creative power.
  • Architecture for digital twins of humans is not a distant vision, but has long been part of the current professional discourse—and it will fundamentally transform building culture.

From Avatar to Reflection: What the Human Digital Twin Can Do Today—and What It Cannot

Digital twins of humans are not pixelated avatars from the video game shelf. They are networked, data-driven simulations of individual bodies, behaviors, and even preferences. While the digital twin of a city has long been established as a dynamic governance tool, its human counterpart is still in its infancy—at least in Europe. In Germany, Austria, and Switzerland, the industry is primarily focused on modeling buildings and neighborhoods, but research into human digital twins is gaining momentum. Why? Because the possibilities are dizzying. From preventive medicine to workplace design to tailored user experiences in architecture and real estate management: the digital twin promises to make the invisible visible and the complex manageable.

The technical foundations have already been laid. Sensors, wearables, medical imaging, motion data—everything is collected in real time, analyzed, and translated into digital models. In architectural practice, this means that user flows in office buildings, thermal comfort, or even a resident’s individual lighting preferences can be simulated. The key point: The models aren’t static; they learn and adapt. They become a reflection of real people—with all their strengths, weaknesses, and quirks.

But where are the limits? There is still a lack of standardization, interoperable platforms, and—not least—social acceptance. Who wants their movement patterns in the office or their sleep habits in a smart home to become a planning factor? The debate over data protection and privacy is not only justified but long overdue. At the same time, pressure is mounting to address these issues, because competitors from the U.S. and Asia aren’t standing still.

It is primarily the major tech companies and research institutes that are setting the direction here. In South Korea, for example, digital twins of people are already being used in medical planning and urban development. Singapore is testing them as part of smart infrastructure projects. And in the U.S., startups are emerging that offer the digital twin as a service for smart buildings and health management. Europe is still watching—and debating just how much self-representation is actually healthy.

The human digital twin is thus neither a gimmick nor a mere replica. It is a complex model that takes the planning, operation, and use of architecture to a new level—with opportunities, risks, and a healthy dose of disruption for this time-honored discipline.

Digitalization as a Catalyst: How AI and the Flood of Data Are Transforming Building Culture

Digitalization is the lubricant that makes the human digital twin possible in the first place. But anyone who thinks this is just a matter of exchanging a few data points is underestimating the impact of this development. We’re talking about big data, artificial intelligence, machine learning—and the ability to generate meaningful models from billions of data points. For architects, engineers, and operators, this means that the traditional approach to design is no longer sufficient. Anyone planning buildings for people in the future must also understand, model, and integrate their digital twins into the planning process.

The paradigm shift is palpable. In the past, it was enough to factor in an average user when planning—today, individual behavior patterns, movement profiles, or even stress levels can be simulated and analyzed. AI-powered tools allow for the modeling of user groups, the testing of scenarios, and the optimization of spatial concepts in real time. For example, when planning an office building, one can simulate how different work styles affect space efficiency, energy consumption, and user satisfaction. In residential construction, comfort, health, and social interaction can be predicted based on individual data—at least in theory.

This new arsenal of tools is fundamentally changing the role of the architect. The designer becomes a data manager; the space planner becomes a process architect. This requires not only technical expertise but also an understanding of algorithms, data ethics, and digital communication. Those who fail to keep up will be relegated to the role of subcontractors for major platform providers in the future—and their professional identity will be diminished along with it.

Of course, not all that glitters digitally is gold. AI-powered models are susceptible to bias, errors in the underlying data, and “black-box” decisions that no one can understand anymore. Architects face the challenge of building transparency, traceability, and control into these systems—or of relinquishing their own power to shape them.

The good news: Those who invest now can help shape the rules of the game. Digitalization is not a law of nature, but a space for creative shaping. And the human digital twin is the playing field where it will become clear who will retain interpretive authority in building culture in the future.

Sustainability, Ethics, and Control: The Dark Side of the Digital Self

Architecture for digital twins of humans is not only a technical challenge but, above all, a societal one. For with the ability to capture, analyze, and integrate individual data into planning in real time, fundamental questions arise: Who owns this data? Who controls the models? And how can we prevent the digital twin from becoming a tool of control or a commodity?

Sustainability is more than just a fig leaf here. The hope is that more precise simulations and forward-looking planning will save resources, optimize usage times, and improve quality of life. For example, knowing when and how people actually use a building allows for better management of energy consumption, cleaning, and maintenance. That sounds like a win-win—but only as long as the data isn’t misused or commercialized.

Data protection is the elephant in the room. In Germany, Austria, and Switzerland, the legal hurdles are high and the issue is highly sensitive. On the one hand, this is a locational advantage—because trust is the currency of the future. On the other hand, there is a danger that progress will be slowed by fear and overregulation. The debate over the GDPR, the role of cloud providers, and the question of how much self-determination individuals truly have has long been underway. Those who set clear, ethically sound standards here can become pioneers—or remain on the sidelines while others set the agenda.

Another problem: the danger of algorithmic bias. When digital twins are based on flawed, unbalanced, or discriminatory data, the resulting models are not only incorrect but also socially harmful. The architecture must learn to deal with uncertainty, recognize bias, and actively counteract it. Otherwise, the promise of inclusion will turn into a nightmare of exclusion.

And finally: control and power. Whoever builds the digital twin has access to the behavior, preferences, and even the needs of real people. That is immense leverage—and a responsibility that cannot be outsourced. Architects, developers, and operators are becoming stewards of digital identities. They must learn to embrace this responsibility—or they will be steamrolled by tech conglomerates and platform providers.

New Business Models, New Roles: How the Digital Twin Is Disrupting the Industry

The human digital twin is not just a technical gimmick, but a catalyst for new business models, job profiles, and work processes in architecture and construction. Anyone who wants to be successful in the future must be able to do more than just design and build. Data management, user analysis, simulation, digital communication—all of this is becoming part of everyday life. The traditional value chain is being disrupted, and new players are entering the market: software providers, data analysts, and platform operators. Architecture faces a choice: remain a spectator or become a leader.

In practice, hybrid teams are emerging that think beyond traditional disciplines. Architects are collaborating with data scientists, social researchers, medical engineers, and AI experts. The design process becomes iterative, data-driven, open to feedback—and sometimes unpredictable. The result: buildings that adapt to their users, neighborhoods that intelligently integrate health, work, and leisure, and infrastructures that learn and evolve as they operate.

This gives rise to new business models. The digital twin as a service for real estate operators, as an add-on for smart home platforms, as a tool for facility management, or as a foundation for healthcare services. The boundaries between construction, operation, and use are blurring. Those who invest early here can capture markets that were unthinkable just yesterday.

But be warned: the market is highly competitive. Major tech conglomerates are pushing their way into the industry with full force, startups are experimenting with disruptive ideas, and traditional design firms face the challenge of redefining their role. Those who rely solely on tried-and-true methods will be left behind—and overtaken by their own software.

The result: The architecture industry must reinvent itself. Not as a service provider to the real estate sector, but as a curator, translator, and designer of a digital building culture that puts people—and their digital twins—at the center. Those who hesitate now will be overtaken by their own avatars.

Global Debates, Local Solutions: Where Is Architecture for Digital Twins Headed?

The discussion surrounding digital twins of humans is no longer a purely technical issue—it is part of the global architectural discourse. While countries such as South Korea and Singapore are already implementing ambitious pilot projects, Europe is still debating ethical guidelines and legal frameworks. In the U.S., platforms are emerging that are completely rethinking the interplay between people, space, and technology. And in Switzerland, models are being tested that, for the first time, holistically integrate health, mobility, and urban development.

Germany stands at a crossroads. The conditions are favorable: high data protection standards, strong research, and innovative companies. Yet the courage to implement these ideas is often lacking. The fear of losing control is too great, and the reflex to avoid risks is too strong. Yet now, more than ever, is the right time to set standards, develop platforms—and view digital twins as a tool for social participation.

The cards are being reshuffled worldwide. Architecture has the chance to reclaim its role as an avant-garde—provided it opens itself up to new technologies, new partners, and new ways of thinking. The human digital twin is not the goal here, but rather the tool for designing the built environment in a radically user-centered way.

The debates are contentious. Critics warn against surveillance, the commercialization of identities, and a digital fatalism that subjects people to algorithms. Visionaries see an opportunity to finally tackle social issues such as inclusion, health, and sustainability in a data-driven way. The truth lies—as is so often the case—somewhere in between. Only one thing is clear: the architecture for digital twins is coming. The only question is who will design it.

And the challenge for the industry could hardly be greater: it involves nothing less than redefining humanity’s place in space—with all the consequences that entails for design, operations, and society. Those who turn a blind eye now will not only fall behind but also lose the authority to shape the narrative of their own discipline.

Conclusion: The Digital Twin as a Construction Site for Building Culture

Architecture for digital twins of people is not just hype, but one of the central challenges of the coming decades. It is at once a technical experiment, a social laboratory, and an economic playing field. Those who ignore it will be overwhelmed by the pace of development. Those who understand it can shape the future—with new tools, new partners, and a new attitude toward their own discipline. The industry stands at the dawn of a revolution that is redefining the relationship between people, space, and technology. It is high time to view the twin not as a threat, but as an opportunity—and to lead building culture into the digital age.

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Co-creation instead of participation

Building design

Photo: Torben Eskerod

Participation versus co-creation: Would the Superkilen work better today if citizens had been integrated into the process from the outset?

Superkilen in Copenhagen has failed. The citizens as a whole use the square more as a place to pass through than to linger, even though they were integrated into the planning process through participation – according to a long-term analysis by students at the Danish Institute for Study Abroad. During the design and development process, the Superkilen planners asked citizens to suggest artifacts from their countries of origin for the new city square. Holistic planning with co-creation and prototypes would have been one way of increasing acceptance of the square.

Co-creation

Co-creation originally comes from the business world, which began to involve consumers in the product development process in the 1990s. The Leading Cities research group defines co-creation in urban development as “the active flow of ideas and information between five sectors: government, business, academia, non-profit organizations and citizens that promotes participation, engagement and development.”

What is the difference to citizen participation? Public participation is a means for planners to learn more about the attitudes and opinions of local residents and to develop new ideas. They increase acceptance for a project. Co-creation, on the other hand, involves the most important sectors of society on an equal footing from the outset.

It therefore offers citizens and citizens’ organizations a better opportunity to be truly heard and gain more influence in planning processes. Co-creation views users as proactive citizens rather than consumers, and focuses on long-term cultural change and the whole community rather than individual user groups. Where citizen participation seeks to integrate citizens’ opinions into an already prescribed program, co-creation helps future users to shape and enforce their own decisions. Co-creation is an endless process in the best sense of the word, with regular exchanges taking place between those involved.

Co-creation has a number of advantages. The public provides input and feels equal, citizens feel they are taken seriously. They become much more aware of their living environment. In return, the government has to be much more responsive and responsive to citizens and other sectors. In return, however, it saves costs because only what is actually needed and used is implemented and the risk of a new project is correspondingly low.

Prototypes

In large design projects such as Superkilen, it is extremely important to test ideas in advance before they become a permanent part of the landscape or city. It is a long way from the abstract idea, analysis and public participation to the concrete installation. The prototype should be seen as a learning tool that can be optimized and changed in the next step. Prototypes are a democratic way of dealing with public space, they also reduce the risk of a failed project and unnecessary expenditure.

The holistic approach

Combining co-creation with the prototyping approach makes it easier to explore the potential of a space. This holistic approach leads to more sustainable and vibrant places in the city. However, the Superkilen started with an assumption that co-creation and prototyping would have led to a different design. Users would accept the space better and make it more their own. Perhaps a more critical examination of the initial idea would also have been achieved.

You can read Bianca Hermannsen’s current analysis of the square here.
Robert Schäfer visited Superkilen in 2012, directly after the opening. You can read his review of the new city square in Copenhagen here.
Watch the video here to see how BIG travels with local residents to their countries of origin to select artifacts for Superkilen.

Heavyweight with a message

Building design

The Globo Uovo sculpture is an impressive work by stone sculptor Marc Reist and is currently on display at the Dürrenmatt Center in Neuchâtel, Switzerland. The artist made the 6.5-ton “global egg” out of white marble. In an interview with STEIN, the Swiss artist explains what message he wants to convey with his sculpture, why he only uses white marble and […]

The Globo Uovo sculpture is an impressive work bystone sculptorMarc Reist and is currently on display at the Dürrenmatt Center in Neuchâtel, Switzerland. The artist made the 6.5-ton “global egg” out of white marble. In an interview with STEIN, the Swiss artist explains the message hewants to conveywith hissculpture, why he only works with white stone and why he launched an appeal to collect eggshells before the opening.

Marc Reist: It’s a logical consequence of my artistic work and how I reflect on my surroundings by observing them. I notice how certain rules and mechanisms are similar on both a small and large scale. I never consciously came up with the topic, it just developed. I think it started in 2005.

The Globo Uovo symbolizes the world and the origin of life. Was there a specific reason for this idea?

Yes, that was in 2011. I was invited by a newspaper in Switzerland to write a few columns. I started to write about resources and food in these texts and about what bothers me: the way we deal with food, the way we deal with our environment. And during this phase, I designed the globe and then the egg. The eggs actually always resonate with me. Regularly for my wife – I only mention this in passing – for her birthday, for Mother’s Day, there are always drawings of chicken and egg. I either start with the chicken or the egg, but the egg always resonates.

Do the many openings in the sculpture also have a meaning?

The openings were created by the lines of longitude and latitude. And I found them very special as soon as I was able to work in the egg. There is a feeling of protection when you are in your human egg and you can see the outside world through these openings. At the same time, it could also be a prison. These feelings arose in me when I was working in the egg.

From a professional point of view – I trained as a stone sculptor and also took the master craftsman’s examination – I know almost all the materials. But even so, I used to only work with black stone for my shapes. And now, for years, I’ve only been working in white. For the small sculptures I make, I use a bright white marble. There is no other solution for me and for my forms. I have never used any materials with textures. They are beautiful, but not for my shapes.

But the marble for the egg has a certain texture. Was a block of 55 tons in pure white not available?

For the Globo Uovo, the stone is a little more marbled. Because this size in pure white – that would have been almost impossible and would have meant such a long wait. And the egg in this size in pure white would almost be a little too beautiful(laughs), almost baroque. That’s impossible. Visually too, it’s almost not rock anymore.

So the egg also looks much more “alive”.

Exactly, that’s what I mean. This methamorphosis of the rock, this mountain, that has to resonate.

How did the change from black to white rock come about?

That’s an interesting question. I have to go back to that. I wanted to make a really big sculpture in the 1990s. I chose a large block in Carrara without knowing what I was going to do with it. I wanted to be inspired by the material, by the block. I normally proceed differently. I have a drawing or a model and then work on the stone. But now I wanted to be influenced by the block. At the time, it was 20 tons in size. And that put an enormous strain on me(laughs). I suddenly realized that the further north the block was transported from Italy, the greater the strain in my head became. I was very blocked! And suddenly I found the solution. I then worked out a light cloth from this block. That was probably my solution, to release this heaviness in me in relation to the block. And since then I’ve only worked with white stone.

Are there purely visual reasons why you like to work with marble a lot, or is it also because of its properties?

Both, actually. My sculptures are also a matter of light. Not only with the large egg, but also with the other sculptures. The way the light passes through the opening and the edges is what makes it so good. And the properties for working are a pleasant side effect. It is easy to work with because it is so even, so homogeneous. But I mainly use marble because light and shadow are important for my sculptures.

You also want to send out a message with your art objects.

Yes, absolutely. I think that’s the greatest task of an artist. That his work is seen and heard, as the case may be. Communication is important. It makes no sense at all if I make an egg like this just to have another beautiful sculpture in a park somewhere. That wouldn’t be enough. It needs a message.

What message is that?

We have great difficulties with resources in general. This is most sensitive when it comes to food. And I really want to draw attention to the fact that people need to deal with the issue of food and resources. That a small train of thought changes.

Your sculpture is currently on display at the Dürrenmatt Center in Neuchâtel, Switzerland. Before the exhibition began, you launched an appeal to collect eggshells. What was the reason?

We had planned a performance with a dancer for the vernissage. I needed a lot of eggshells for that. Over the course of a year, people collected around 35,000 eggshells, washed them and brought them to me. Something you would normally throw away. For the exhibition opening, we laid them out on the floor of the museum and cleared paths, like a labyrinth. The dancer danced her way through it. But every now and then she made missteps on the eggshells, causing them to crack. And at the same time, with every misstep, a part of her body died. Because the shells represent our resources and if they are destroyed, the person dies too. And so she danced through the labyrinth and gradually died a dramatic death after three or four missteps.

Find out more about the project and the natural stone work in the February issue of STEIN. You can also find more information at www.stein-magazin.de/skulptur-des-monats-globo-uovo.