factory 5.0: a pavilion shaped by biological intelligence
Studio Aditya Mandlik (SAM)’s Factory 5.0 is a timber structure that positions biological intelligence as a genuine collaborator, co-authored by 10,000 king worms metabolizing Styrofoam in real time. ‘When we design built environments, we’re reshaping the planet’s outermost skin, one that has always supported complex, multi-species life,’ the architect tells designboom. ‘My instinct is to design in dialogue with that broader ecological knowledge system.’
Founder of the studio, Aditya Mandlik, frames the work as a call to rethink architectural authorship in the context of the Fifth Industrial Revolution, a moment defined by the convergence of human and non-human intelligence. ‘Making is no longer a linear, directive process; it becomes a co-evolution shaped by multiple intelligences operating simultaneously across material, biological, and spatial scales,’ the architect notes.
At the core of the project is plastic, the defining material of the First Industrial Era, reframed through decomposition ‘Plastic became a lens to understand how drastically our intentions and consequences can diverge,’ Mandlik tells us. ‘Working with worms revealed that nature already holds pathways for metabolising what we consider irreversible problems.’ Speaking to designboom, Mandlik positions Factory 5.0 as a framework for rethinking material futures, using decomposition to expand architectural imagination.
all images courtesy of Studio Aditya Mandlik
how worms reshape the geometry of the structure in real time
Factory 5.0 is a composite system of 546 digitally fabricated timber components interlaced with 200 Styrofoam plates housed in transparent acrylic chambers. These interiors become operational terrains where worms, approached as collaborators of the project, actively reshape the geometry of the pavilion. ‘Their behavior resembled that of micro-sensors, always recalibrating in response to temperature, light, and moisture,’ Mandlik explains. ‘These feedback loops began to dictate the pavilion’s evolving porosity.’ This procedure results in a continually transforming architectural section, revealed in various ways as visitors move around and through it.
Unexpected behavioral patterns soon become part of the design language. Worms clustered for warmth below 20°C, migrate toward darkness, and even metamorphose when isolated, behaviors that influence spatial rhythm and material decay rates. ‘Designing with decomposition demanded accepting that anything we create should ultimately be able to return to natural systems,’ the Mumbai-based architect tells designboom. This approach shapes decisions from assembly logic to the portability of the pavilion. Factory 5.0 was already in its second life at DDW, having been flat-packed, transported, and reconfigured from its Mumbai debut.
This adaptability extends into its afterlife. ‘Disassembly is not the end of a project, but the beginning of its next metabolic phase,’ Mandlik notes. After the exhibition, timber components are repurposed, while worm-transformed Styrofoam plates, sensitive to light, sound, and human presence, are preserved as memory objects and later used as molds for casting metal lights. The project becomes a living model for regenerative architecture in a world where biological and technological intelligence co-author space. Dive into the full Q&A below.
a timber structure that positions biological intelligence as a genuine collaborator
Interview with Aditya Mandlik
designboom (DB): Factory 5.0 introduces worms as active co-creators. What first prompted you to explore biological intelligence as a design partner?
Aditya Mandlik (AM): For me, collaborating with non-human intelligence has always felt like a natural extension of architectural thinking. When we design built environments, we’re effectively reshaping the planet’s outermost skin, a layer that has long supported complex, multi-species life. So my instinct is to design in dialogue with that broader ecological knowledge system. With Factory 5.0, this became particularly critical. Since the installation was conceived as a prototype for architecture in the Fifth Industrial Revolution, we chose to work with natural decomposers to break down single-use plastic, the defining material of the First Industrial Era. That act of decomposition became both method and message, positioning architecture as a metabolic, co-authored process rather than a purely human-driven one.
co-authored by 10,000 king worms
DB: As you mentioned, the project sits within the theme of the Fifth Industrial Revolution. How do you define ‘non-human intelligence’ in an architectural workflow, and what does it contribute to the act of making?
AM: Architecture becomes truly contextual, geographically, socially, culturally, and ecologically, only when every actor present on a site is allowed to perform. I’ve always believed that the planet operates through a dense web of behaviors, where each entity, human or non-human, contributes its own role to a constantly unfolding system. These behaviors are not passive; they are forms of intelligence that shape, negotiate, and adapt the environments we share. So when I speak of ‘non-human intelligence’ in architecture, I’m not thinking of it as an add-on to the design workflow. Instead, I see it as an existing field of entangled, cooperative interactions that we must learn to work with rather than override. In that sense, making is no longer a linear, directive process; it becomes a coevolutionary act, shaped by multiple intelligences operating simultaneously across material, biological, and spatial scales.
the worms metabolize Styrofoam in real time
DB: Why did you choose plastic as the primary site of decomposition, and what did the worms reveal to you about its future?
AM: Plastic is, in many ways, the great material triumph of the First Industrial Revolution. It reshaped human behaviour, accelerated production, and became inseparable from modern life. What interested me was this contradiction: a material originally engineered with ecological intent has, within a single generation, shifted into the category of ‘waste.’ Plastic became a lens through which to examine how drastically our intentions and their consequences can diverge over time. Working with worms made this contradiction even more compelling. Their ability, together with the bacteria in their microbiome, allows to break down complex molecular structures like single-use plastics, revealed something deeply optimistic. It suggested that nature already holds pathways for metabolising what we perceive as irreversible problems. This collaboration points toward a future where small-scale worm farms could become decentralized systems for decomposing not only single-use plastic but other organic waste as well. It reframes the issue from one of disposal to one of co-evolution, where natural intelligence and human design actively negotiate the lifecycle of materials.
