Last week, I immersed myself in London Craft Week, a celebration of exceptional craftsmanship showcasing hundreds of makers, designers, brands, and galleries. 

While the event often features panels and symposiums exploring the social, economic, and environmental value of craft, discussions on the impact of craft on personal wellbeing remain surprisingly rare.

We live in an age where wellness has become a booming industry. We track our steps, monitor our sleep and the wellness app market alone is predicted to grow to 12.87 billion this year. Yet, the rates of anxiety, depression, and general dissatisfaction are increasing steadily. Recent global events—pandemics, political polarisation, and climate anxiety—have only intensified these issues. Yet the roots of our current crisis run deeper. Long before COVID-19, the World Health Organization had already named depression the leading cause of disability worldwide. What we face today is not a new crisis, but the acceleration of long-standing mental health trends.

Our habitual response to unease—consumption—often worsens the problem. When anxious or unsettled, we seek relief through shopping, streaming, and scrolling. Consider this: the average person now buys 60% more clothing than they did 15 years ago and keeps items for half as long. We are surrounded by things we barely notice. While ‘retail therapy’ may offer fleeting comfort, research consistently shows that consumption as a coping mechanism erodes long-term wellbeing.

This contradiction—seeking wellbeing through habits that undermine it—creates what scientists call ‘cognitive dissonance’. For example we say we care about the planet, yet we purchase disposable fashion. We crave meaning, yet live among meaningless clutter. Psychologists identify this mental conflict as a significant source of stress and even unhappiness. Economist Tim Jackson calls it the “iron cage of consumerism”: a feedback loop in which anxiety fuels consumption, and consumption deepens anxiety.

Neuroscience research confirms that this internal conflict activates stress networks in our brains. Our minds naturally seek consistency between our beliefs and behaviors—it’s how we maintain a coherent sense of self. When this consistency is threatened, our brains experience it as a form of psychological threat. The cognitive effort required to rationalize our contradictory behaviors  drains the same mental resources we need for focus, creativity, and emotional regulation—all essential components of wellbeing.

In essence, unresolved cognitive dissonance functions like a background program draining mental energy—resources better used for connection, creativity, and calm.

Could craft offer an antidote?

I believe handmade objects provide something that our wellness apps and consumption habits cannot: a tangible way to align our values with our actions, creating harmony rather than dissonance in our daily lives. Craft represents not just objects of beauty or utility, but a fundamentally different relationship with the material world—one that supports rather than undermines our psychological wellbeing.

The Cognitive Burden of Mindless Consumption

Last winter, I confronted cognitive dissonance directly when I finally cleared out our London storage unit. 

After years of paying for a space to house belongings I rarely saw,  I  finally confronted the reality of my material footprint: boxes of university notebooks, boxes and boxes of books, forgotten clothes, and household items that shouldn’t really have been stored in the first place, a few Billy bookcases, and such. 

The task ahead was daunting—decide what to bring to our new home in Italy, what to sell, and what to give away. What should have been a straightforward sorting exercise quickly became an unexpectedly emotional reckoning. Each object carried its own psychological weight: guilt about environmental impact, anxiety about potential future need, sentimental attachment, and the shocking realization of how much I had accumulated without conscious intention.

When you have the entirety of your belongings spread before you, uncomfortable questions surface. Why do I own this? Does it warrant the space it occupies in my life? If I let it go, will it simply end up in a landfill? The popular Marie Kondo approach suggests asking if items “spark joy,” but I found myself confronting much more complex emotions—cognitive dissonance between my environmental values and my consumption habits, anxiety about my carbon footprint in transporting items across countries, and the strange grief of parting with objects I had cared enough to store but not enough to use. This experience left me thinking deeply about our relationship with material possessions. The burden was as psychological as it was physical. I was left with the nagging sense that my possessions had somehow come to possess me.

In his groundbreaking work on cognitive processing, psychologist Daniel Kahneman noted: “A general law of least effort applies to cognitive as well as physical exertion. The law asserts that if there are several ways to achieve the same goal, people will eventually gravitate to the least demanding course of action.” Our modern consumption habits—clicking “buy now” without reflection—exemplify this principle, requiring minimal cognitive engagement while creating maximal psychological burden.

Among the overwhelming pile of possessions, a few objects stood apart: a hand-knitted blanket from my mother, ceramics from potters I’d met, and books that had travelled with me for decades. These didn’t trigger anxiety—they grounded me. They held stories, provenance, and meaning.

This experience clarified the difference between consuming and collecting. Consumption is often automatic; collecting is intentional. When I wrap myself in a handwoven throw, I feel connected—to the maker, to their craft, and to the values we share. This is not just ownership; it is participation in a meaningful, human-scale economy.

The Neuroscience of Craft Engagement

The distinction between mass-produced and handmade objects is not only emotional—it is neurological. The field of neuroaesthetics -the study of how our brains process beauty and art- shows that handmade objects activate a broader range of brain activity. A 2023 study on spatial design identified three key dimensions that influence how we experience environments:

1. Coherence: The ease with which we organize and comprehend a space
2. Fascination: An environment’s informational richness and interest-generating qualities
3. Hominess: The extent to which a space feels personal and intimate

Craft objects contribute directly to these dimensions:

• They enhance coherence through their clear purpose and intentional design
• They add elements of fascination through their unique details and variations
• They increase hominess by adding layers of personal meaning and human connection

When we choose handmade ceramics over mass-produced products or display a handwoven textile instead of a factory-made equivalent, we’re not just making aesthetic choices—we’re literally creating environments that our brains process differently, potentially enhancing our sense of connection, comfort, and belonging. 

Three Grounding Effects of Craft on Wellbeing

Further to how craft objects can contribute to enrich the space we live in, through my research and personal experience, I’ve identified three primary ways that craft objects contribute to our wellbeing by neurologically grounding us:

1. Sensory Anchoring

Craft engages the senses. A ceramic mug offers texture, weight, and visual richness. This multisensory stimulation activates neural pathways linked to pleasure and grounding. Neuroscientists call this “multisensory integration”—a fuller experience than screen-based interactions.

I’ve incorporated this principle into my own meditation practice, using a small handmade ceramic piece as a sensory anchor. Feeling its texture, noticing the slight variations in the glaze, and sensing its weight grounds me in physical reality more effectively than many guided meditations I’ve tried. When the world gets a bit too overwhelming, the simple gesture of being present with handmade objects calms me down.

2. Attention Stabilisation

The slight irregularities and uniqueness of handmade objects create what neuroscientists call “prediction errors”—small, manageable surprises that keep our brains engaged. 

A study in 2021 found that these small prediction errors create an optimal level of neural engagement—not so predictable that our minds wander, but not so unpredictable that we feel overwhelmed. This sweet spot of attention engagement has remarkable similarities to the state psychologists call “flow”—a mental state associated with heightened wellbeing.

In a world where our attention is increasingly fragmented by digital distractions, craft objects can serve as attention anchors, pulling us gently into present-moment awareness. 

3. Relational Connection

Most profoundly, handmade objects foster human connection. When we handle an object made by human hands, our brain’s “mirror neuron system” activates, subtly simulating the movements used to create it. This creates a form of embodied connection to the maker, even when they’re not physically present.

This helps explain why knowing an object’s provenance significantly enhances our experience of it. 

I have always highlighted the importance of provenance, whenever possible it’s best to know where the things we invite in our home come from, who made them, how and with which materials. One of the biggest challenges as consumers is that many of these details are not readily available, sometimes not even from small producers. However, I often found that asking questions about objects and their provenance is also a great way to show the maker a real interest in their work that goes beyond the beauty.

The system of relations that a crafted object represents can have the power to connect us to others, and in an increasingly lonely world, these connections shouldn’t be undervalued. 

Practical Applications: Cultivating Wellbeing Through Craft

How might we apply these insights to enhance our wellbeing? Here are some practical suggestions:

A Simple Grounding Exercise

Try this three-minute practice with a handcrafted object you own:

1. Hold the object in your hands and close your eyes
2. Notice its weight, temperature, and texture
3. Open your eyes and observe its visual details—the variations that reveal its handmade nature
4. Consider who made it and what skills were involved
5. Reflect on why you chose it and what values it represents for you

This brief practice engages all three grounding mechanisms—sensory anchoring, attention stabilization, and relational connection.

Questions for Mindful Acquisition

When considering bringing a new object into your life, ask yourself:

• Does this item align with my values?
• Will I notice and appreciate this object years from now?
• Does knowing who made it and how matter to me?
• Am I supporting relationships and communities I value?

We all need everyday objects—mugs, blankets, tools. Choosing handmade versions transforms routine purchases into opportunities for connection. It’s not just about aesthetics; it’s about cultivating a home—and a life—that reflects your values.

Craft as Resistance and Wellbeing Practice

As we face increasing economic uncertainty and the potential transformation of our dominant economic paradigm, craft reminds us that humans have always made beautiful, useful things—long before global capitalism and I hope likely long after. There’s both comfort and excitement in that continuity, in reclaiming our relationship with objects as something more enduring than mere consumption.

Unlike many wellness trends, this approach doesn’t require special equipment, subscriptions, or dedicated apps. It asks only that we pay attention to the objects we already interact with daily, and that we make slightly different choices when replacing or adding to them. In the quiet revolution of choosing craft, we find not just objects of beauty, but anchors of wellbeing in a world increasingly difficult to navigate.

References

Berlyne, D. E. (1974). Studies in the new experimental aesthetics: Steps toward an objective psychology of aesthetic appreciation. Hemisphere.

Brielmann, A. A., & Pelli, D. G. (2019). Aesthetics. Current Biology, 29(1), R1-R15.

Brown, S., & Dissanayake, E. (2009). The arts are more than aesthetics: Neuroaesthetics as narrow aesthetics. In M. Skov & O. Vartanian (Eds.), Neuroaesthetics (pp. 43-57). Baywood.

Chatterjee, A., & Vartanian, O. (2014). Neuroaesthetics. Trends in Cognitive Sciences, 18(7), 370-375.

Christensen, J. F., & Gomila, A. (2018). Introduction: Art and the brain: From pleasure to well-being. Progress in Brain Research, 237, xxvii-xlvi.

Cela-Conde, C. J., Agnati, L., Huston, J. P., Mora, F., & Nadal, M. (2011). The neural foundations of aesthetic appreciation. Progress in Neurobiology, 94(1), 39-48.

Diener, E. (2000). Subjective well-being: The science of happiness and a proposal for a national index. American Psychologist, 55(1), 34-43.

Di Dio, C., Macaluso, E., & Rizzolatti, G. (2007). The golden beauty: Brain response to classical and renaissance sculptures. PloS One, 2(11), e1201.

Fancourt, D., & Finn, S. (2021). What is the evidence on the role of the arts in improving health and well-being? A scoping review. Nordic Journal of Arts, Culture and Health, 3(1-2), 56-69.

Festinger, L. (1957). A theory of cognitive dissonance. Stanford University Press.

Freedberg, D., & Gallese, V. (2007). Motion, emotion and empathy in esthetic experience. Trends in Cognitive Sciences, 11(5), 197-203.

Harmon-Jones, E., & Mills, J. (2019). An introduction to cognitive dissonance theory and an overview of current perspectives on the theory. In E. Harmon-Jones (Ed.), Cognitive dissonance: Reexamining a pivotal theory in psychology (pp. 3-24). American Psychological Association.

Ishizu, T., & Zeki, S. (2013). The brain’s specialized systems for aesthetic and perceptual judgment. European Journal of Neuroscience, 37(9), 1413-1420.

Jackson, T. (2005). Motivating sustainable consumption: A review of evidence on consumer behaviour and behavioural change. Sustainable Development Research Network.

Jackson, T. (2011). Prosperity without growth: Economics for a finite planet. Earthscan.

Kahneman, D. (2011). Thinking, fast and slow. Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

Kasser, T. (2017). Living both well and sustainably: A review of the literature, with some reflections on future research, interventions and policy. Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society A, 375(2095), 20160369.

Kirsch, L. P., Job, X. E., Auvray, M., & Hayward, V. (2021). Harnessing movement and haptics for a sensorimotor aesthetics. Trends in Cognitive Sciences, 25(5), 386-399.

Kühn, S., & Gallinat, J. (2023). Neural correlates of natural vs. artificial material perception and their relation to wellbeing. Frontiers in Human Neuroscience, 17, 1081354.

Malafouris, L. (2013). How things shape the mind: A theory of material engagement. MIT Press.

Pearce, M. T., Zaidel, D. W., Vartanian, O., Skov, M., Leder, H., Chatterjee, A., & Nadal, M. (2016). Neuroaesthetics: The cognitive neuroscience of aesthetic experience. Perspectives on Psychological Science, 11(2), 265-279.

Spee, B., Ishizu, T., Leder, H., & Pelowski, M. (2022). Neural correlates of everyday aesthetic experience: An integrative review. Neuroscience & Biobehavioral Reviews, 136, 104598.

Skov, M., & Nadal, M. (2021). The nature of beauty: Behavior, cognition, and neurobiology. Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences, 1488(1), 44-55.

VanderWeele, T. J. (2017). On the promotion of human flourishing. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 114(31), 8148-8156.

Vessel, E. A., Starr, G. G., & Rubin, N. (2013). Art reaches within: aesthetic experience, the self and the default mode network. Frontiers in Neuroscience, 7, 258.

World Health Organization. (2017). Depression and other common mental disorders: Global health estimates. World Health Organization.