Sight Vs Sound

In terms of preferred position, the order appears to be:

1. underneath the bed in the dark bedroom down the hall (in extremis):

   not seen nor able to see anything, but able to hear some things in the living room, and see lighting changes⁴

2. inside the darkness of the ‘cat condo’ box:

   able to see the living room but no one able to see him (due to black fur)

3. on top of the cat condo box:

   able to see & be seen, and hear inside

4. on the middle of the cat ramp leading to an open cat-flap; or laying on the window ledge when the shades are down; or sitting on the desk near me:

   able to hear the outside but neither see nor be seen

5. at the top of the cat ramp but not on the ledge:

   able to hear and just barely see over the edge out the cat flap to the outside but almost invisible to the outside

6. on the cat-flap ledge inside, able to hear & see much of the outside and vice-versa, but with much still out of view⁵

7. outside the cat flap, laying or sitting on the middle ramp level, body partially shielded from view from some angles, but otherwise able to see & hear everything

8. outside the cat flap, on the top of the ramp, highly visible

9. walking or stalking around in general, away from the house

This risk compensation view is almost common sense (of course an ambush predator like a cat would have an acute sense of its own visibility, and being visible would make it anxious), but what’s interesting to me here is the multiple sensory modalities.

A human concerned about varying levels of privacy in architecture would focus almost entirely on vision, and how to progressively block it, with sound being an afterthought. (See eg. “open plan” offices.) But cats have acute hearing, and he appears to often be content to close his eyes and quasi-nap on the ramp or behind the window drapes, ‘keeping an eye’ on me & the outside by instead listening.⁶ So for him, the optimal locations will vary sound as much as sight. (I suspect that many cat owners have noticed the risk compensation part, but not had cat-itecture with enough steps which would let them notice the sensory difference.)

Default Design

The bird cage. Human vision-centrism carries over to cat architecture, or ‘cat-itecture’ one might say. When people build those ‘outside boxes’ or ‘cat window boxes’ (also called ‘solarium’, ‘catio’, ‘cat balcony’) for their cats to sit in or make window flaps, invariably the design tends to be focused on vision & physical exposure to the outside.

A typical cat window box might be a rectangle or cube, with a wood floor and then made of plexiglas/window screen, an open window frame on the back side, and visible on all sides with mesh/holes for ventilation/sound, and have a portal/cat-flap: the cat is either all the way in, and able to see & hear everything and vice-versa, or not. There are no steps where visibility is minimized to a slit, or where it is sound-only. (Sometimes, one is reminded of old-fashioned zoos, or the dangling cages-in-midair in so much fiction where the hero and/or heroine will be locked by the villain, or of window prostitution; hardly a relaxing situation!⁷)

It is true that many cats love their cat window box and spend hours in them, but that doesn’t mean that the design is optimal: “hunger is the best spice”. (What would it look like if a design were not optimal? It’s not like cats can say that they would prefer a different design, when even most humans struggle to articulate their dissatisfaction with something or quietly put up with extremely broken designs. A cat cannot tell you that their heated box is not warm enough this winter; all it can do is show you that sleeping inside the box is better than sleeping outside the box.⁸)

From the risk compensation view, the typical cat flap or cat window box is a crude half-measure missing many steps; like all too much modern human architecture, it appears designed to create anxiety. A cat must be at a fairly high level to want that level of exposure, and then all the lower levels are pessimized, leaving the cat bored.

Cat Design Patterns

How should a cat window box be designed, from a cat’s point of view rather than a human’s vision-centric point of view? (Or to put it another way: If cats are autistic, “what cat window box would Temple Grandin design?”)

What should be the design patterns of cat-itecture?

1. Gradation: we would want it to cover as many steps as possible.

2. Sight vs Sound: the steps should separately vary vision and sound exposure: if they co-vary unnecessarily, then the steps will be coarser.

3. Sight, then Sound: they should follow a vision-then-sound approach, as sound is the safest & least-stressful modality at each step.

4. Simple Use: the steps should be static, intrinsically part of the construction, implemented mostly by moving short distances.

   It would be unreasonable to expect a cat to have to manipulate a set of controls to raise or lower blinds, or something like that—unless one could make a case for the mechanism being cheap, highly robust, with instant feedback, and something a cat could easily train itself to do. Anything more complex is doomed.

   A mechanically-simple design that might work would be something like a single slider that the cat might push/pull by accident, and it would learn to use it because it would immediately observe the increase/decrease in visibility.

5. Narrow/Tall, not short/wide: cats move effortlessly through narrow widths, like a door which is open a crack; but not through wide short spaces, like under a bed.

   Pongrácz2024 demonstrates a fundamental principle of cat psychology for movement: cats are skinny and flow like a fluid, not squat like a dog. Cats assume correctly (usually) that they can squeeze through any crack they can get their head through and effortlessly thread through vertical gaps like stair banisters or between human legs or through the bars of a cage or fence; but they have to pause, think, and test for gaps which are horizonal. This slows them down, decreases their sense of safety, and adds a psychological burden.

   Cats are also probably aware of this, and that few other larger animals can follow them. Because this is such a cat advantage, narrow-tall openings may not need any barriers to keep out other unwanted animals, like dogs or humans (but not foxes).

   So, architecture designed for cats should cater to this, and attempt to provide narrow-tall openings rather than other types, like squares or bed-like low areas.

   For example, a human would design a cat flap in a door to be a square, but a cat would probably design it to be more of a tall narrow rectangle with a fraction the surface area (good for heating/cooling) and less vulnerable to enemies. Fencing could be designed with this in mind, to deliberately include cat-slits at regular intervals. And if you have problems with dogs trying to eat the cat poop in the litter box, you could just set up a plywood barrier with a narrow vertical slit. Similarly, cat boxes like cat trees or cat condos might work better if designed to have a ‘slit’ instead of a big circle/square opening. That makes sense to a human, who is imagining themselves as a small animal cimbing in/out and looking out, but it ignores that the cat can just flow into the box.

Improved Cat Window Box

So one design might be a double box, with the boxes designed to have multiple ways of mutually obscuring the outside & inside:

1. The outer or ‘second’ box is clear Plexiglas on the top and sides, with finely-pierced ventilation holes towards the top, but opaque on the bottom & in a band around the sides starting at the bottom, with a Plexiglas cat-flap to the outside (if it is an indoor-outdoor cat). This box is always outside.

   This provides 3 steps: (1) the cat can exit it for the outside; (2) a cat can sit or stand in this, and be fully visible with complete sight & sound; and (3) it lays down, surrounded by the opaque band, and becomes invisible to anyone looking at it from a ground angle, able to see the sky while also able to lift its head just enough to look over the band into the yard.

2. The inner or ‘first’ box is connected to the outer box with a round narrow open porthole; it has some but fewer ventilation/sound holes, and it is all opaque⁹, except perhaps for a sliding segment placed at roughly eye level for a crouching or sitting cat which removes the opacity for a narrow slit. This box may be outside with the first box ‘next to’ it side-by-side, or it may be inside with the first box then the outside half, split by the window.

   This provides another 2 steps: (1) the cat can sit or crouch with its head sticking through the porthole, granting it greater invisibility against both ground & sky but compromising vision (sound remaining the same); (2) slit closed, laying down, completely invisible but also zero vision, sound-only.

   If we add in a slider, we get a 3^rd step: (3) the cat can withdraw and pull/push the slider to ‘open’, and crouch looking through it (as if it were an embrasure), now even more invisible at the cost of more vision.

   Past that, the cat retreats into the house proper, where the next step is presumably sitting at the window, unable to hear anything but seeing a decent amount and being somewhat visible to the outside. (Then it can retreat to furniture like cat condos or chairs or sofas or under Christmas trees¹⁰, and then to a bedroom and then under a bed and so on.)

We could supplement these with fake plants, like plastic grass, which provide cover.¹¹

This improves over the typical cat window box by giving the cat fine-grained control over its exposure and sensory overload, while not taking up much more space than a typical cat window box does.

With more engineering complexity, one would add further subdivisions to the hierarchy (eg. perhaps the outer box could be divided in half vertically with two floors, and the upper floor be open completely?), but I think this design sketch alone demonstrates that if we think in terms of steps and a vision-then-sound hierarchy, we would approach the design of cat-architecture differently.