Could Houseplants Change Your Mind?
The Surprising Psychology of Living with Plants
“I was just talking to my plants…”
That’s the first thing Sofia says when she opens the door, before letting us in with a big smile.
On a warm early spring afternoon, I have driven my 89-year-old mother to her home village to visit her 92-year-old best friend.
For the first 20 years of their lives, they saw each other every single day. As children, they would go foraging dandelions to make frittatas, and as young women they would go to the village discotheque every Saturday night. After my mother moved to a nearby town, they stayed in touch through the occasional visit and daily phone calls, mostly about the latest village gossip.
Sofia sits us down and brings us water and fresh coffee. After a little hesitation, I can’t quite help myself and ask: “You said you were talking to your plants?”
Sofia might be walking with difficulty, bent over and using a stick, but she’s nobody’s fool. She stops and studies me for a moment: “Do you think I’m talking to my plants because I’m an old woman losing my mind, young man?”
“Uh, no,” I say.
“Listen to me,” she continues, her voice more serious. “I’ve been talking to my plants all my life. They have always kept me company and helped me clear my thoughts.”
She looks me straight in the eye, as if daring me to disagree.
Then she turns to my mother, and the village gossip begins.
Can Houseplants Shape the Way We Feel and Think?
Afterwards, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of the exchange. It was clear that Sofia gained something meaningful and beneficial from interacting with her plants, not only in old age but throughout her life. Was this simply an isolated case, or something real that plants could offer us all?
As a clinical psychologist working in the National Health Service, I had seen first-hand the nurturing power of the natural world. For people struggling with mental health difficulties, time in nature can offer an accessible and effective way of lifting mood, reducing stress, and restoring a sense of balance.
And as a neuroscientist, I was familiar with the evidence linking time in nature to better mental health, lower risk of burnout, and sharper focus. I had even contributed to this literature myself, showing that these effects can emerge even after brief, incidental encounters with urban nature in everyday life.
But these insights were based on outdoor nature: parks, forests, and landscapes we can move through and immerse ourselves in. Could the humble houseplant have similar effects?
At first, the idea struck me as slightly absurd. Surely houseplants could not carry the same power as forests or green spaces. But when I began to explore the scientific literature, I found a few surprises.
The Emerging Science of Houseplants and Mental Health
Contrary to what I expected, several studies have examined how houseplants affect the way we feel and think.
Some of this research is observational, meaning that people are asked whether they have houseplants and are then assessed for mental wellbeing. For example, in a Chinese study, the number of houseplants, the time spent caring for them, and the number of years people had kept them were all associated with higher levels of mental wellbeing.
However, studies of this kind cannot establish causation. In other words, is caring for plants making people feel better, or are people who already feel better more likely to care for plants?
Other studies have taken a different approach, using images of domestic interiors, such as bedrooms and living rooms, with varying levels of greenery. For example, in an Italian study, images of rooms with plants were perceived as more restorative and associated with more positive emotions.
Interestingly, these perceived benefits are not the same for all houseplants. In a UK study using images of pot plants, improvements in subjective wellbeing depended on perceived plant health and canopy density rather than more superficial features like shape.
But studies using images of plants raise another question: do the findings translate into real life benefits? To address this, some researchers have turned to experimental designs, randomly assigning people to environments with or without real plants.
One study compared watering houseplants with a simple control task. Researchers measured changes in brain activity, blood pressure, and self-reported mood. Watering indoor plants led to a reduction in blood pressure, brain activity associated with greater relaxation, and higher levels of happiness.
These benefits are not limited to mental health but may also extend to cognition. In an experimental study carried out across multiple workplaces in the Netherlands, researchers examined the impact of introducing plants into office environments that had none. Within just four months, people working in offices with plants showed consistent improvements including fewer health-related complaints, greater satisfaction with their workspace, and a stronger sense of privacy.
The benefits of sharing our living and working spaces with plants were confirmed in a review combining the results of 42 independent studies. The authors found that indoor plants are associated with both greater physiological relaxation and improved cognitive performance.
Why This Matters
About 55% of the world’s population currently lives in cities, and this is projected to rise to 68% by 2050. At the same time, we now spend around 80% of our life indoors.
If everyday outdoor life makes up only a small fraction of our week, then relying solely on parks, forests or other green spaces may not be enough. Instead, nature may need to be woven back into the homes and workplaces where we actually spend our time.
Houseplants may offer an accessible and practical point of connection with the natural world. They do not require travel, good weather or free time. Simply sharing a room with a living plant creates repeated exposure to natural forms, colours and textures throughout the day.
How Can Something as Simple as a Houseplant Make a Difference?
One possible explanation relates to air quality. Since outdoor vegetation clearly reduces air pollution, it has been suggested that indoor plants may also improve the air within our living and working spaces, with potential benefits for physical and mental health. Current evidence, however, offers little support for this idea, as one would need hundreds of plants to make a measurable difference in an average-size home.
A more promising explanation involves microbes. Reduced contact with the natural world limits our exposure to beneficial microbes that support gut, immune and brain health. Tending plants (touching soil, handling leaves) may help restore some of this contact. Consistent with this, office workers exposed to indoor plants show greater diversity of beneficial microbes on their skin, alongside lower levels of inflammation-related markers in the blood.
Another pathway lies in the act of caring. As living organisms, plants invite our attention. Watering a plant, noticing new growth, and responding when leaves begin to drop can cultivate a sense of responsibility beyond ourselves. These small, everyday acts of care are associated with greater psychological wellbeing, both in the general population and among those at risk of mental health issues.
Plants may also offer a subtle form of companionship, as Sofia reminded me the moment she opened the door. At a time of rising loneliness across all age groups, they bring a sense of aliveness into a space, reminding us that we are part of an interconnected network of life. While plants cannot replace human relationships, perhaps they could help soften feelings of isolation.
These are just some of the possible pathways through which houseplants might affect us. Each may be modest on its own, but together they may combine into something greater than the sum of its parts.
Is Indoor Nature an Overlooked Public Health Intervention?
We still don’t understand how to best translate these findings into meaningful changes in our everyday lives.
In school settings, studies have found that having plants in classrooms is associated with improved academic performance. Therefore, should we consider brining nature into the classroom to support attention and learning, particularly for people with ADHD, who are known to benefit from time in the natural world?
In healthcare settings, patients who can see trees from their windows recover faster and experience fewer complications. So should we reconsider policies that restrict plants in hospitals for fear of germs, in light of their potential benefits? A patient who had experienced repeated hospitalisations for severe mental illness once told me: “I think everyone who is sectioned should be given a welcome pack - including a small plant to keep in your room and take care of.”
Beneath these questions lies a more fundamental one: why do we bring fragments of the natural world into our most intimate spaces? Is it purely for aesthetic reasons, or is there something more fundamental at play?
I could not find the answer in the scientific papers. But a conversation with my mother, as I drove her home after visiting Sofia, offered an unexpected insight.
The Drive Home
“Did you know Sofia speaks to her plants, Mum?” I ask as I drive her home.
“Of course - she has always done that.”
“Do you also do that?”
“Never.”
“But you do have a house full of plants. Why is that?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “I didn’t have any growing up - I just started acquiring them after I left the village.”
“And why did you do that?”
“I don’t know, Andrea”
She pauses for a while, then adds: “I guess I wasn’t able to go outside and walk among the chestnut trees anymore, so I started collecting plants.”
So perhaps this is the answer that scientific papers cannot fully provide.
Like birds returning to a familiar nest, we bring fragments of the natural world indoors because we recognise it as home.
I love it.