#paper # 1. What is Design? Carlson and Parsons offer the following characterisation of design: > Design is the intentional solution of a problem, by the creation of plans for a new sort of thing, where the plans would not be immediately seen, by a reasonable person, as an inadequate solution. A 'thing' in this case can be a new object or a new process or system. A furniture designer, for example, might create plans for a new sort of ergonomic office chair, thereby solving [[the problem]] of office workers hurting themselves by sitting down for long periods of time. Once these plans are drawn up, an industrial designer can step in to determine how these chairs should be produced. Thereby solving [[the problem]] of how to create such products in an efficient and cost effective manner. Unlike craftsmen, who we think of as both designing and creating their wares, designers do not get their hands dirty: they are the planners, not the producers. Finally, we think of design as an activity informed by knowledge: a nine year old might draw a picture of a chair or a production line, but we would not say that they have designed anything –to designers have to know enough to aim for a solution that *might* work at the very least. - MORE MORE # 2. Aesthetics and Design ### 2.1 Must Design be Stylish? The word 'design' often conjures up images of aesthetically pleasing design. There are design museums, and festivals, and 'design classics' such as the *bialetti* and the *[[Swiss railway clock]]* We might therefore ask whether Carlson and Parson's characterisation of design leaves something out. A reasonable solution to [[the problem]] of sitting comfortably or pouring coffee need not lead to a product which *looks good*, and we might wonder whether something like a chair manufacturing process could ever belong in the realm of aesthetics. Hamilton 2011 articulates this intuition nicely: > My view is that design exhibits two sides: It solves functional problems and it improves the look or feel of the product through style, decoration, and embellishment. Both these elements are fundamentally involved and hard to separate (ibid. p. 54). On [[this view]], a chair manufacturing process, however efficient and economical, is not an instance of a design, unless, that is, it does so with style, decoration, or embellishment. But can such processes ever be stylish? Not obviously. Can they be decorated or embellished? Yes, but it would be bizarre to do so. What would be the point of decorating a conveyor belt, or making the body of each chair loop-de-loop before the legs are attached? The same sorts of considerations apply to artifacts themselves. Tea mugs, toothbrushes, telephones can perfectly well serve their purpose *stylelessly* and without embellishment. One worry with [[this approach]] is that it is not all that clear how we should understand 'style' or the term Hamilton sometimes uses in its stead 'elegance'. It is possible that we simply know style when we see it, in the same way that Louis Armstrong purportedly said about jazz: "If you have to ask, you ain't ever gonna know". Alternatively, we might think style is simply problem solving with added 'artistic-ness'. These are far from the only possibilities but for the rest of this sub-section we will examine two accounts which do not rely on style, and therefore resist making a hard and fast distinction between aesthetically appreciable design and quotidian problem solving. In doing so, such approaches have the advantage of allowing for situations in which it seems people do seem to aesthetically appreciate things like manufacturing processes, and everyday tools. Imagine an expert industrial engineer encountering an efficient and well-designed assembly line, and marvelling at the way in which its layout and processes allow for quick and easy modifications. Similarly, consider a professional chef might admire the lightness, ergonomics, and precision of Global G-2 chef's knife, despite it lacking any sort of decorative element. Forsey's account begins by differentiating design from art. In contrast to artworks, [[designed objects]] are functional, ubiquitous, mass-produced, and unexpressive (“mute”). [[Aesthetic judgments]] of design, in her view, are judgments of [[dependent beauty]] in the Kantian sense - they presuppose a concept of [[the object]]'s purpose and "consequently of its perfection." (REF). These judgments have both subjective and objective aspects, involving the [[free play]] of the faculties and a feeling of disinterested pleasure on the one hand, and reference to the purposive form of [[the object]] on the other. For Forsey, appreciating the [[dependent beauty]] of design requires knowing [[the object]]'s identity and purpose, engaging with it through actual [[use over time]], and assessing its "teleological style" - the particular way it fulfils its function - in comparison to other designs. What matters is how the object itself realises an elegant integration of form and function in the course of our practical engagement with it. Actual use thus reveals aesthetic qualities that are not immediately perceptible. Parsons and Carlson also tie design aesthetics to function, but in a more perception-centric way. For them, knowledge of how an object fulfils its function (not just what its function is) affects aesthetic appearance by providing a "functional category" that structures perceptual content. **This can be understood in terms of the concept of affordances: the functional category of an object specifies what action possibilities it should afford, or appear to afford, to the perceiver.** Perceiving an artefact under a functional category - e.g. "espresso maker" or "lawn chair" - makes function "a part of the content of our perception" and enables us to discern three main types of functional beauty. First, an object can "look fit" by lacking dysfunctional features and possessing a high degree of functional-indicative ones. **In affordance terms, an object "looks fit" when it appears to afford exactly the actions required for performing its proper function.** Second, it can exhibit "simplicity, gracefulness, elegance" by having only standard functional features that are skilfully integrated. **Here, the object appears to afford only the standard actions associated with its functional category, with no extraneous perceived affordances.** Third, it can display "pleasing visual tension" by incorporating contra-standard features while still appearing functional. **This occurs when the object appears to lack some of the affordances typically associated with its functional category, creating a visual tension between the perceived affordances and the expected function.** Unlike Forsey's view, perceiving these kinds of functional beauty does not require actual use; informed perception suffices to ground aesthetic judgement. Consider the Bialetti espresso maker and the "Lawn Chair, Beverly Hills Model" by Viktor Schreckengost. For Forsey, appreciating the Bialetti requires extended, comparative use that reveals how its particular "teleological style" - the combination of material, form, and function - surpasses other designs in everyday brewing. Parsons and Carlson, in contrast, would focus on how the Bialetti's visible features are all standard for its functional category, **appearing to afford precisely the actions involved in making espresso,** yielding a perceptible elegance that exemplifies their second type of functional beauty. Schreckengost's lawn chair shows how Parsons and Carlson's third type of functional beauty, "pleasing visual tension," can be exemplified in design. The chair's biomorphic, sculptural form initially appears contra-standard relative to the typical rectilinear design of folding lawn chairs. **Its curvy features make it appear to lack the usual affordances associated with folding chairs, such as a straight seat and back for upright sitting.** Yet, upon closer inspection, its curves and contours are revealed to serve the functional purpose of ergonomic seating, creating a sense of "dissonance followed by resolution" that is characteristic of this type of beauty. As this type of effect is purely visual, it is not obvious that it would count, on Forsey's view, as involved in our aesthetic appreciation of the object as a piece of design. What would these views say about the appreciation of design systems like an efficient and well-designed assembly line? For Forsey, appreciating the assembly line would involve understanding how its layout and processes enable efficient adaptation to different production needs, and comparing this "teleological style" to alternative manufacturing paradigms. It is not as obvious how aesthetic appreciation of such a system could be made sense of in terms of visible, functional beauty, but neither is it an obvious difficulty. Parsons and Carlson could, for example, argue that, to an expert at least, an assembly line's adaptability and efficiency would be visually apparent, **with the layout of the system appearing to afford smooth modification to suit changing production demands,** and therefore give rise to it looking fit relative to the functional category of "manufacturing system", even if the observer has not used it themselves. ### 2.2. Ease of Use vs. Effortlessness One advantage Forsey's view has over Carlson and Parson's view is that it accounts for the intuition that aesthetic appreciation of design not only involves looking at designed objects, but using them as well: >Saito claims that the aesthetic value of a knife, for instance, “consists not only of its visual qualities but also of its feeling in my hand . . . [and] how smoothly and effortlessly I can cut an object.” The “sensuous aspects converge and work together to facilitate the ease of use,” and our full aesthetic experience of the knife requires us to hold it and cut with it; we cannot fully determine its design excellence if we do not perform these actions and engage at least some of our proximal senses when we do. (p. 208) We agree with Forsey, and Saito, that the aesthetic appreciation of design is not just a matter of *looking* at things, but also how they feel in the hand, and perhaps other sorts of perception as well. Where we differ, is on the role of use. The passage above suggests that *ease* plays an important role in appreciation. Pressing a button to call a lift and turning a handle to open a door are easy interactions, but it does not seem as though they invite the aesthetic appreciation of such objects. To develop a robust action-oriented aesthetics of design, then, we need a more sophisticated account of how active engagement shapes our experience and evaluation of designed objects beyond a simple tallying of effort expended. One solution can be found in Montero's work on aesthetic effortlessness, which, although focused on dance, can be fruitfully applied to interactions with designed objects. Towards the end of her (2016), Montero writes: >"I am not so sure, but it does seem that upon watching effortless movement, one of the things we enjoy is the feeling of performing difficult movements in a smooth, coordinated, efficient way (and this, perhaps, can be experienced even if we know great work was put into creating this coordinated efficiency). But perhaps most importantly, effortless movements are pleasurable because they are beautiful. And it may be that we recognize them as beautiful because we both sym- pathetically proprioceive them and see them as revealing a superfluity of fitness." (p. 190) Montero's account relies on the notion of sympathetic proprioception, with the viewer imaginatively experiencing the dancer's movements as if they were performing them themselves. However, when it comes to the aesthetic appreciation of design, we need not rely on such vicarious or sympathetic proprioception. Rather, we can focus simply on proprioception: the user's experience of moving their own body. At root, we suggest, the user's interactions with a beautifully-designed object are accompanied by a "feeling of performing difficult movements in a smooth, coordinated, efficient way". This feeling arises not from the interaction being objectively easy, but rather from the appearance of ease in performing challenging actions. Just as the beauty of effortless motion in dance stems from the sense that the dancer's gracefulness reveals a "superfluity of fitness" – an ability to perform the difficult movements with ample reserve and capacity to spare – the aesthetic appeal of well-designed objects lies in the way they make the user feel that they are similarly masterful. The user does not just feel like they are doing something skilful, but doing so without, as it were, 'breaking sweat'. Interacting with a well-designed object often involves directly encountering the challenges inherent in the task – the resistance of the materials, the need for precise control – while at the same time feeling that these challenges can be met with a sense of graceful, coordinated ease. Consider using the Global G-2 chef's knife to chop vegetables. The proprioceptive feedback of the knife's movement provides a direct experience of skilled, controlled action, even as the user remains aware of the difficulty of the task. Pressing a button to call a lift, on the other hand, provides no such feeling. Neither is the experience of effortless limited to simple utensils such as knives. The click wheel of the original iPod gave users a sense of control by allowing them to precisely adjust the scrolling speed through their music library. through the ability to precisely control the scrolling speed through one's music library. Similarly, compare the satisfying fluidity of finding information on a well-designed website to the frustrating clunkiness of using a poorly designed one. In both cases, the user is confronted with a potentially complex task—navigating a large music library or finding specific information —but a well-designed interface enables them to meet this challenge with a feeling of graceful, efficient control. # References