#beautyinuse #olddraft Older Version 1 In Section 3, we explored how Nguyen's concept of harmony of capacity, while illuminating for game aesthetics, has limited application to [[the aesthetics of design]]. As well as harmony of capacity, which we have argued is specific to games and says little on design, Nguyen considers a third kind of harmony, namely, "harmony of action," which he describes as the aesthetic quality arising from how well an individual's actions fit the demands of a situation. He illustrates this concept: #### "When you time a jump just so in [[Super Mario Brothers]]; or when you figure out, during a rock climb, that you need to slide your hips over just enough to balance on that tiny nubbin of rock, you're experiencing [[more than]] the harmony of solution. You're experiencing your agency and action as fitting the demands of the environment." (Nguyen, p. 108) Earlier, he provides a different real-world example: #### "A car swerves into my lane and I react smoothly, dodging perfectly. Afterward, I am struck by the gracefulness of my own instinctive response." (Nguyen, pp. 101–102) Unlike the harmony of capacity, we can see that Nguyen believes that harmonies of action can be experienced in the real world as well as in games. If this is correct, then it seems we have found another way of explaining or cashing out the sorts of agentive aesthetic experiences that [[designed objects]] may or may not elicit. Your car might make you experience yourself as gracefully swerving around an obstacle; my experience might be less of gracefulness and more of clumsiness or a lack of control. There is, however, a wrinkle here. While it is reasonable to think that something like the harmony of action factors into both real-life and in-game interactions, if we consider the differences between what counts as “fitting the environment” in each situation, we find that they are quite distinct. In games like [[Super Mario Brothers]], fitting the environment involves performing actions that align with the game's predefined rules and objectives. The environment is controlled and designed with clear challenges and rewards. Timing a jump perfectly to overcome an obstacle fits precisely within the game's immediate demands and offers instant feedback. In contrast, in real-life situations such as swerving a car to avoid an obstacle, 'fitting the environment' encompasses a broader and more complex set of factors. The environment is unpredictable and multifaceted, involving physical conditions, other drivers' behaviours, legal considerations, and personal safety concerns. Successfully navigating such a situation requires quick judgement and actions that fit into a larger context of societal norms and personal well-being. Game actions usually occur within more constrained intentional frameworks. The purposes, options, and means-ends relationships in games are often more limited and clearly defined by the game's rules and objectives. While still potentially complex, the [[intentional structure]] of game actions typically lacks the depth and breadth of real-world actions. Games are framed in a way real-world actions are not. As Huizinga puts it in his seminal book [[Homo Ludens]]: A Study of the Play-Element in Culture: “All play moves and has its being within a play-ground marked off beforehand either materially or ideally, deliberately or as a matter of course” (1955, p. 10). Huizinga then introduces the expression “magic circle” to designate the framed nature of games as opposed to other practical activities. With respect to the issue of framing and the magic circle, the agentive appreciation of design is to that of games as the [[visual experience]] of architecture is to that of painting. Architecture and design are continuous to the world in a way paintings and games, as framed, are not. These differences in what counts as fitting the environment lead to experiences of fittingness that are quite different in each case. We can see this by considering the differences in actors’ [[agentive phenomenology]]. Horgan identifies several facets of [[agentive phenomenology]]: self as source, optionality, purposiveness, and means-ends teleology. For example, when someone decides to pick up a glass of water: - Self as Source: They experience themselves as the initiator of the action. - Optionality: They feel they could choose to pick up the glass or not. - Purposiveness: The action is done with the purpose of quenching thirst. - Means-Ends Teleology: Grasping the glass is a means to the end of drinking water. While all these aspects might differ between in-game and real-life actions, purposiveness and means-ends teleology are particularly clear cases where experiences of fittingness might differ. Horgan's analysis of [[agentive phenomenology]] provides a framework for understanding how differences in "fittingness" between game and real-world environments are reflected in our subjective experience of agency. He identifies several interrelated aspects of the phenomenology of agency—self as source, optionality, purposiveness, and means-ends teleology—that manifest differently depending on the complexity of the underlying [[intentional structure]]. Means-Ends Teleology captures [[our understanding]] of actions as steps toward achieving certain goals. In [[Super Mario Brothers]], this structure is straightforward. Timing a jump to clear a pit serves the immediate goal of progressing in the game. The goals are predefined, and the chain of actions is clear and limited within the game's environment. In contrast, swerving a car to avoid an obstacle involves a complex chain of means and ends. The immediate action prevents an accident, but it also serves broader goals like ensuring personal safety, fulfilling legal responsibilities, and maintaining one's vehicle. The means-ends relationships extend into multiple layers of real-world implications. Purposiveness refers to experiencing actions as done for specific purposes. In games, actions serve singular, game-defined purposes—overcoming a challenge or advancing levels. In real life, actions like swerving the car serve multiple purposes simultaneously, from immediate safety to long-term well-being, reflecting a richer and more layered purposiveness. Because real-world fittingness involves a more complex structure of goals and purposes, this leads to differences in the phenomenological aspects of means-ends teleology and purposiveness between real-world and in-game experiences. In games, fittingness is immediate and confined within the game's parameters, resulting in a focused agentive experience. In real life, fittingness encompasses a wider array of goals and purposes, leading to a richer and more nuanced phenomenology of agency. Understanding how differences in "fittingness" are realised in these phenomenological aspects enhances our appreciation of [[design aesthetics]]. Well-designed objects facilitate pleasing experiences not just through their visual or tactile properties, or through momentary harmonies of action, but by enabling a deep and evolving sense of fit between our actions and the multifaceted demands of our life-world. The aesthetics of design involve experiencing our agency as fitting harmoniously within the complex web of purposes, values, and relationships that constitute our lived environment. This deeper, more contextually embedded form of aesthetic appreciation sets design apart from games and other more constrained forms of aesthetic experience. It offers a form of aesthetic engagement that can evolve and deepen over time, as users develop skills, form attachments, and discover new ways in which the designed object allows them to fit their actions to the changing demands of their environment. This continuity with the real world, as opposed to the framed nature of games, means that design aesthetics can tap into the richness of our everyday experiences. By recognizing that differences in the experience of "fitting the demands of the environment" are realised in the phenomenological aspects of means-ends teleology and purposiveness, and considering the way design is integrated into the fabric of our lives (much like architecture compared to painting), we can better appreciate the unique aesthetic qualities that well-designed objects bring to our everyday experiences and the profound ways in which they shape and enhance our interactions with the world. Need to work in the part below Ultimately, the notion of chromatic illumination enables us to interpret phenomenologically Evnine’s (2016) hylomorphic account of actions as constituted by an intentional form impressed onto a matter that consists of bodily movements. Relying on Kriegel’s (2015) “conative phenomenology”, one might add that actions impress the phenomenological form of “deciding-cum-trying” onto bodily movements. Still, we can further characterise the action’s phenomenological form through Horgan’s notion of chromatic illumination, just as we can characterise the action’s phenomenological matter in terms of proprioception (including kinesthesia) by appealing to Montero’s aesthetics of dance. Moreover, if we want to make room for the sort of mental actions that are crucial to aesthetic appreciation of games such as chess and of artefacts such as time tables, we must consider actions that have an intentional form involving chromatic illumination but whose matter does not consist of bodily movements but rather of changes in the content of the relevant mental states. To conclude, the aesthetics of design can fruitfully be compared to both the aesthetics of dance and the aesthetics of games. Aesthetically appreciating design is, in this sense, a sort of playing with or dancing with a technical artefact. Yet, the aesthetics of design differs from the aesthetic of dance since the former may also consist of mental actions while the latter is based on bodily movements. Technical artefacts are closer to games than dance in this respect since the aesthetic appreciation of them both can be centred on actions  whose hylomorphic matter consists of changes in mental content rather than bodily movements. Yet, the aesthetics of design differs from the aesthetics of games in virtue of the depth and complexity of its chromatically illuminated form. Games are similar to dance in this respect since they both involve framed actions. Design, instead, leads us to aesthetically appreciate actions intertwined with our life.**