If turning on the main overhead light feels almost like an act of violence, you’re not alone. So what exactly have we got against the ‘big light’?
There are few domestic acts capable of provoking such instant disapproval as walking into a nicely lit room and switching on the big light ... What are you doing? Turn it off!
When you think about it, that’s a bit odd: it’s a light and its purpose is to make the room lighter. Yet plenty of us seem to have a surprisingly emotional objection to it, almost as if switching it on were an act of violence… What gives?
It can be a bit… much
There’s no denying it: a big light shining boldly down from on high can feel pretty overwhelming.
Often it’s simply brighter than you want the room to be, particularly in the evening. And because all that light is coming from one place, it can flatten some parts of the room while throwing rather fierce shadows elsewhere.
Sometimes you just want to see your book and the person sitting opposite you; having everything illuminated can be a bit much.
It can feel like the office/dentist/hospital
There’s also something unmistakably functional about a brightly illuminated room. It says: We are doing Things now.
Which is absolutely fine when you’re looking for a dropped earring or packing a suitcase or attempting to discover what the dog has just eaten, but not usually the message you want from your sitting room at nine o’clock in the evening.
Lower, softer light tends to feel more relaxed because it creates a different sort of vibe: not so much everything present and correct, as come in and sit down.
It can be horribly unflattering
Then there’s good old human vanity; not a noble reason to object to the big light, but a persuasive one.
Light beamed down from above is rarely flattering to facial features, in fact it’s particularly effective at highlighting wrinkles that definitely weren’t there earlier, and generally making us look about ten years older than we actually are.
Much more appealing is a soft, diffused light that comes from a variety of different sources (table lamps, wall lights) and angles, especially from the side.
We seem to naturally prefer pools of light
This is perhaps the crux of the problem. A big, brash overhead light just doesn’t feel natural.
And if we think back to our ancient ancestors, it all makes perfect sense. In prehistoric times, we humans lived in harmony with the natural world, getting up with the rising of the sun, going out hunting and gathering during the bright light of the day, and retreating back to the cave when the sun began to set, to relax in the warm glow of a lovely campfire.
Which is probably why the warm, yellow-white light of a fire or a set of poetically flickering candles instantly feels comforting to us, even today. (And also why the ‘no blue screens before bed’ rule came about.)
The most appealing rooms in the evening are rarely equally bright from one end to the other. There might be a lamp beside the sofa, another in a far corner, perhaps a wall light or two, with darker bits in between.
That gives you choices: you can light the part of the room you’re actually using rather than illuminating the entire thing. And there’s something deeply comforting about a room made up of several small pools of light instead of one enormous one.
So should we get rid of the big light?
Absolutely not: apart from anything else, it’s extremely useful for hoovering. And of course a fabulous pendant or chandelier can be the spectacular centrepiece of a room, whether or not you rely on it for most of the light.
The point isn’t really that overhead lights are bad, so much as that the main ceiling light doesn’t always have to do all the work, and certainly doesn’t have to be the first switch you reach for every evening.
Sometimes a room just feels happier when the big light gets the night off.