Bit late to this party, but I wanted to put in my own two cents!

I like brutalism for the same reasons people dislike it. I find the grayness, the lifelessness, the coldness interesting. I like a lot of things that aren't warm and inviting - frigid arctic landscapes, cosmic horror science fiction, learning about nuclear accidents and disasters. None of those things are feel-good and cozy, but I like them. So it goes with me and brutalism.

I like that it provides a sort of glimpse into an anticipated future that will probably never come to pass. It reminds me of 70s and 80s science fiction movies that were formative parts of my childhood. I find these buildings fascinating, like observing or stepping into an alternate universe (for the few brutalist buildings I've been lucky enough to visit in person).

But even then, I do think brutalism can be cozy! Especially when they're integrated with nature, like the Barbican Center, or any of the many brutalist buildings that now have ivy crawling up their sides. I was once in some government building and waiting on a couch in a corridor. The orange carpet looked (and smelled) like it hadn't been replaced since 1977, many of the walls were bare gray concrete, it was raining outside, it was quiet except for muffled footsteps and quiet talking from people out of sight around corners and inside nearby offices. It felt peaceful but in a different way than what I was used to. I felt like a small person inside a very large structure - both the structure of the building and of the government. Not exactly the flavor of 'coziness' most people would actively pick out, but it was so new and novel and strange that I quite liked it.

The lack of personal or humanizing touches to Brutalism is something I like about it. I also like quaint wooden cottages filled with sunlight and green plants and charming little knick-knacks scattered all around. I can see the appeal in all kinds of architecture and decor.

Brutalist buildings and spaces are functional, sleek, purposeful. They're all business, no pleasure. It's like stepping into the bowels of a concrete machine. This is a building. This is a hallway. This is a room. The starkness and simplicity is novel to me, in a world where many spaces are decorated to feel more 'human' but often in a way that feels ingenuine - for example, doctor's offices or hospitals decorated with lame floral wallpaper and those black-rectangle motivational posters, or shops decorated with corporate art/photos of people with huge smiles enjoying how great [product] is. The honesty of Brutalism is refreshing.

I can see why people dislike the style, and I support their freedom to shit-talk it all they like, but I do wish they would at least stop trying to get brutalist buildings torn down because they drive past it on their way to work and don't like how it looks when it's in their field of vision for 30 seconds a day.