There’s a quiet tension at the heart of every co-living development. It’s not just about balancing amenity with affordability, or density with liveability. It runs deeper, into how we understand privacy, community, and what it truly means to feel at home.
Ask ten people what they want in a shared living environment, and you’ll hear ten variations on the same themes:
- Connection without intrusion.
- Privacy without isolation.
- Autonomy with just enough belonging.
These aren’t contradictions, but they are difficult to design for, especially when you’re working from a blank slate.
And this is where the question of floor plan becomes more than a technical exercise. When you’re developing PBSL (Purpose-Built Shared Living) or PBSA (Purpose-Built Student Accommodation) from the ground up, the layout isn’t just about efficiency. It’s about values. About choosing what kind of human experience the building will invite.
So, do you go with cluster-style living, where four to eight rooms share a kitchen and bathroom on a single level, encouraging interaction and affordability? Or do you opt for self-contained micro-units, where every resident has their own ensuite and kitchenette, gaining autonomy but potentially losing something softer, more communal?
There’s no one right answer. But the choice speaks volumes.
The Cluster Model: Intimacy and Efficiency
The cluster model has long been a staple of student housing and boarding arrangements. The logic is straightforward: shared spaces reduce construction costs, increase density, and offer a built-in social network. For developers, the yield can be higher per square metre. For residents, there’s often a sense of camaraderie that comes with shared meals and spontaneous hallway conversations.
But there are trade-offs.
Shared bathrooms remain one of the most polarising aspects of cluster living. For some, it’s a deal-breaker. For others, it’s a small price to pay for affordable rent and a sense of community. Maintenance becomes more intensive, and the risk of conflict rises with every additional user.
Still, when designed well with good acoustic separation, generous communal zones, and clear house rules, cluster models can deliver something rare in modern housing: meaningful, daily interaction that doesn’t feel forced.
The Self-Contained Room: Autonomy and Market Appeal
At the other end of the spectrum is the self-contained studio. Think compact, efficient, and private: a bed, a desk, a kitchenette, and an ensuite, everything a resident need, all behind one door. It’s the model preferred by many investors and planners, especially for developments targeting international students or young professionals.
The appeal is clear. Self-contained units reduce complaints, simplify operations, and appeal to a broader tenant base. They can be leased longer-term or short-term, adapted across cohorts, and re-sold more easily. For residents, there’s dignity in having your own bathroom and the freedom to cook, clean, and rest on your own schedule.
But the community risk is real.
Without thoughtful shared spaces, lounges, courtyards, coworking zones, the building can feel more like a dormitory hotel than a vibrant, lived-in place. Residents retreat to their pods. The shared life withers. And suddenly, you’ve got a vertical village with no real village life.
What Are You Really Optimising For?
This is the crux of it: what is your project optimising for?
Yield? Operational simplicity? Resident retention? Social impact?
You can’t optimise for everything. And pretending you can lead to compromises that satisfy no one. If you’re targeting first-year international students, a well-run cluster might build confidence, community, and long-term retention. If your market is young professionals working late hours, self-contained studios may suit their lifestyle better.
But here’s the thing: even in a self-contained layout, you still need to design for community. That means:
- Placing communal areas in natural circulation zones, not tucked away
- Giving residents reasons to leave their room: a great kitchen, a sunny terrace, weekly events
- Designing with acoustics, light, and comfort in mind so shared space feels like an upgrade, not a compromise
Likewise, a cluster model needs to be dignified, not institutional. That means:
- Bathrooms that don’t feel like locker rooms
- Kitchens that support real cooking, not just reheating
- Thoughtful group sizes; four to six, not twelve
The Sweet Spot Might Be a Hybrid
Some of the most successful co-living buildings borrow from both worlds. They offer self-contained rooms for privacy, but layer in shared kitchens, gyms, coworking zones, and event programming to cultivate connection. Others adopt a modular approach: some clusters, some studios, and perhaps a handful of two-bed apartments for couples or siblings.
This flexibility opens up both the building and the business model. Operators can respond to demand shifts. Residents can “graduate” through different room types without leaving the community. And most importantly, the building becomes more than just a place to sleep. It becomes a place to live and grow.
Designing for Belonging, Not Just Beds
In the end, the floor plan is just a tool. What matters is the lived experience it supports.
Too often, developers over-index on metrics: net lettable area, yield per square metre, construction cost. Those matter. But if you ignore the intangible; comfort, connection, culture, you’ll end up with a product that leases but doesn’t last.
People don’t just want cheaper rent. They want to feel safe. They want the option of connection. They want spaces that respect their autonomy but invite participation. Whether that’s in a six-bed cluster or a 19m² micro-studio, the real design challenge is the same: create spaces that let people choose how they live.
That means knowing your audience. Knowing your operator. And knowing that floor plans aren’t neutral; they carry values, assumptions, and consequences.
So, cluster or self-contained?
Maybe the better question is:
What kind of life are you making space for?
And what would it mean to design for both the individual, and the community they’re quietly hoping to find?
