How I Worldbuild a Technologically Advanced Treehouse Neighborhood
- Casey Hudson
- 43 minutes ago
- 4 min read
What if a civilization maintained its connection to nature as it evolved technologically? For one of my sci-fi species, I’m envisioning smart homes in the trees. But what does it look like to live in a tree, and how do tree homes form communities?
This is how I worldbuilt a technologically advanced treehouse neighborhood.
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How a Real Tree Inspires a Treehouse Neighborhood in Sci-Fi
This is a po’ongabel. A highly advanced species based on orangutans.
I want to pay homage to their tree-dwelling origins, but they’re more technologically sophisticated than modern-day humans. So I can’t have them living in tree nests the way real-world orangutans do.
I could give them a bit of an upgrade to a common treehouse. But, even then, we’re essentially talking about a shack that’s 6 to 20 feet above ground.
It’s an upgrade from a nest since it provides a platform to move on and weather protection. At their most luxurious, though, treehouses would have more novelty than utility. The biggest issue being the distance from everyday activities.
Say, one of my characters needed groceries. Or wanted to stream a movie. Based on the way human treehouses work, my character would have to “go into town” or get a stronger internet signal. For high-tech convenience, I’ll need to build infrastructure. Full neighborhoods worth of trees to foster retail and social environments.
And I need to decide how this culture incorporates their ingrained appreciation for conserving resources.
A treehouse neighborhood of detached single-family homes would be misaligned. But multi-family housing is doable. I’ll start there.
Low- to mid-rise buildings are fewer than ten floors. And the largest building in the world is 163 floors.
Thinking about this in tree terms, Earth conditions are not ideal to provide structure for skyscrapers. Hyperion, our tallest tree, is only 32 floors high.
To make my metropolis possible, the po’ongabel world will be full of redwood forests where “Hyperion height” is average.
For this to be more scientifically reasonable, I need to look at how trees in this world are so tall. ‘Cause the thing is: tall trees are probably height-limited. The taller they get, the harder it is to pull water up their trunks.
So how am I–or, the po’ongabel–overcoming this limitation?
Everyday life in a tree: Plausible Utilities and Technology
Water is essential …and problematic.
It doesn’t just limit tree growth in my world. If I dig into this idea of tree-partments, I also have a water-flow challenge. What happens when people flush their toilets or wash their clothes?
The answer to this starts with this world’s environment. LIke their real-world counterparts, the po’ongabel are native to the rainforest. Knowing that makes water management easier.
See, treehouses commonly harvest rainwater to facilitate plumbing. In a world where it rains regularly, inflow is just a matter of installing reservoirs at the top of every tree-partment.
Getting the water out is going to take a little creative license.
Earth trees absorb water and nutrients through their roots. Mostly. Then, they move that sustenance through their bodies. But they’re not adapted to support an apartment full of modern living. Let alone a body five times the size of a redwood. Po’ongabel trees need to absorb all available water and nutrients to live in their world. For this, I’m going to give my trees aerial roots.
Imagine: A modular living pod with scaffolding holding it to the side of a tree. The pod is surrounded by substrate that’s teeming with nutritious byproducts from greywater and composting toilets. Hungry for the nutrients, the trees–and other rainforest vegetation–grow new sets of aerial roots. These roots surround the substrate and shoot downwards–further securing lower pods and helping the tree maintain its stability.
The roots absorb the apartment waste, and deposit what’s unwanted at the base of the tree. …For a bit of flare, I’ll make the deposits at the base of the tree suitable for use as fuel.
Because po’ongabel don’t believe in squandering resources, they’ll siphon excess greywater to support agricultural irrigation. And the fuel will be funneled back into the tree to light apartments and power devices.
All of which will be managed by intuitive technology. Motion and sleep-sensitive lights and entertainment. Smart appliances that know when food is cooked to the right temperature. And refrigerators that suggest recipes when items are wilting or expiring.
Now that the standard interior has been defined, I need to think about the world just outside the front door.
From tree to city: Worldbuilding a Treehouse Neighborhood
With the framework figured out, a treehouse neighborhood is pretty easy to create.
Because many of these trees are giant, it’s reasonable to make them multi-use. In real, human terms, this means combinations of residential, commercial, retail, and entertainment spaces. So instead of each tree-partment being a “building,” I’ll build them to be community hubs. In addition to living quarters, each residential tree will have libraries, community centers, and/or schools.
And to create a full treehouse neighborhood, I’ll use the same structure type for different purposes. Think of this like different districts within a city. Want a night out? Visit one of the entertainment trees. Enjoy fancy dinners? Check out Food Row–of trees. Need a new outfit? Stores in fashion grove are open late.
Government offices and hospitals can have their own trees, and other places and services can be placed where appropriate.
I’ll worldbuild skyways for easy access between trees. And I’ll disperse playgrounds and parks amongst the branches.
And that’s community done.
Well, except for transportation.
Since Oomfr’crumf Nation is so high up, their vehicles will need to be aerial. And their airspace will need to be highly controlled to minimize fatal accidents. (Because gravity, accidents are vertical and potentially more dangerous). So I’ll have them use mostly mass transit–except emergency vehicles. And to keep from clogging up the airspace, I’ll have cargo and shipments transported on the ground.
This detail will be narratively interesting since rainforest floors are made up of moss, fungi, and decaying plant matter. They’re also dark, so plantlife and scavenging animals will be hazardous for couriers. But that’s something to expand upon later.
Until next time, stay curious.
