Design with a Heavy Hand

We all make sacrifices for the sake of “good” design. That might mean wearing 3-inch heels that torture your feet, giving up a network connection to carry the MacBook Air, or popping an ugly flourecent, energy-saving bulb into your otherwise beautiful light fixture. We compromise.

But it’s sometimes strange, seemingly random, where we draw the line. When someone like Sam’s Club suddenly forces massive change with milk jug innovation, we’re bound to get a push back. Why? While the inconvenience of the package is relatively mild  (people complain that the lack of a spout causes spilling) it’s hardly comparable to going to the inconvenience of going to the fridge to get a bottle of water and throwing away a plastic container vs. simply turning on the tap.

So if it’s not really all that inconvenient, why the uproar? Because the change was forced, instead of made desirable. The milk jug has no story. In recent months, we’ve seen the lowest of the low, tap water, make a huge, sexy comeback. Between the overwhelming demand for Sigg bottles, the backlash on plastic for both environmental and health reasons, and the national Tap Project that brings a branded story to the very act of drinking water, tap water has been turned into the most desirable commodity around…and it’s practically free!

So why is it that a milk jug that’s saving companies and consumers millions, giving them more product for their money, making a hug impact environmentally, and drawing attention to the dairy industry that it hasn’t enjoyed in a decade (Got Milk?) simply been dropped into the mix like we’re preparing for the Great Depression instead of heroically innovating for the future of our sustainable, advanced “enviroconomy?” Because with companies as large as Costco, Wal-Mart and Sam’s Club taking on the launch, there’s simply no way for consumers to say”no.” Which, I guess, is both the problem and the solution rolled into one fantastic, square-shaped savior that shall forever go unamed, unmarketed and unloved, making it that much harder for the next guy.

Oragami “Tupperware”

In stark contrast to many “sustainable” designs from the last five years, ultra-disposable products are giving way to durable goods.

An elegant, if not entirely useful, example is Oksana Bazanova’s Oragami Crockery, a foldable and convertable waterproof paper container. Like a child’s paper cup, the paper folds along pre-determined scores to acccomodate multiple uses.

Longer-lasting than a paper plate or ziplock bag, and without the chemical leaching of plastic containers (although likely not as long-lasting), Oragami Crockery is a hint of things to come: durable, natural solutions for everyday activities that succeed in being sustainable, not through disposability, but through lasting design and durable construction.

Color-Changing Roads

Eurovia out of France has been experimenting with color-changing road varnishes that warn drivers of conditions in real time.

If the temperature drops to a certian degree (I assume this is controllable) the color automatically changes. But so many road cues either lose their impact over time, or create unintended dangers. And if we can’t keep roads in decent condition as they are, how will this new color-changing material hold up. If those challenges are met, I say we move on to surfaces that just eliminate the dangerous conditions altogether.

Design for “Ethical Quibbles”

As a writer (uncited in the article) from the Economist experiences the MoMA’s “Design and the Elastic Mind” exhibit, he begins to ponder the role of designers in the near future. One particular innovation-art piece, “Victimless Leather,” in which a miniature leather coat is “grown” around a polymer structure in a sort of life support system, caused him to realize that a “ethical quibble” has been put to rest over the use of animals for fashion.

Design, as does science, is often pushing on the edges of acceptable practices, material choices and intended use. Currently, these concerns are usually rooted in business value. Are plastic cars desirable in the consumer’s mind? Is plastic the most affordable material for beverage containers? Can we increase sales with an all-in-one device, or with multiple specialized devices?

The more rapidly our capacity for design and innovation advances, business value questions will continue to be intertwined with difficult ethical questions as well. Are we risking people’s safety with plastic automobiles? Can chemicals leach from plastic bottles into people’s drinking water? Is the world burdened by so many discarded electronic devices and their inability to be re-sourced?

There’s no time for consumers to decide these things for themselves. And people are unlikely to sacrifice their own pleasure and satisfaction by denying themselves things like cheaper cars, bottled water or iPods, despite the vague, remote consequences.

Where designers are finding a new, if unintended, role is in solving the world’s dilemmas one project at a time. Science and technology makes new products and experiences available to early adopters long before any sort of system or solution is designed to carry it to the masses. The result is often a clash of desire and consequence for consumers: I want safe drinking water available wherever I am vs I don’t want to destroy the planet. (hyperbole only partly intended).

Naturally, this conflict only exists after something has gone to market and the consequences are realized. It is then that massive design change often enters the picture to recover losses and disrupt the seemingly unstoppable negative effects of something as simply as water packaging. Light-weigthing bottles, biodegradable plastics, semi-permanent containers like Nalgene bottles, the solutions are sometimes as fraught with consequences as the original problem.

Are biodegradable bottles really harmless? Is it just throwing money away when conventional plastic, or even glass, could be recycled? Do they still leach chemicals? Are Nalgene bottles just a fashion statement with little effect?

Strategic design can certainly devise fuller systems to accommodate various use cases and help curtail poor design from literally junking up our world. But the most effective role for design is a matter of timing. As stated in previous entries, sometimes the most innovative thing a designer can do is perfect an already existing product or system. But in many cases, that only limits design to a clean-up crew. Establishing strategic design as a core competency in a manufacturing environment means starting with designers as partners, not reaching out when things go wrong. In this way, design can continue to solve our “ethical quibbles,” but before they become barriers to adoption in the marketplace.

So while the example of a leather coat is a matter of millennia between invention and design perfection, products entering the market today are increasingly new inventions. And the iPod is actually a fairly decent example of design making a better, more fully-conceived product, even though it meant not being the first to market. But the dangerous chemicals in iPod components are only recently being rethought. And what to do about all those planned obsolescent devices they’ve created in the meantime? A clean-up crew, indeed.

When Innovation Seems Out-of-Scope

UK innovation experts, The Future Laboratory, are publishing a report this April 21st called Food Futures, in which they examine the barriers to innovative packaging design

As many manufacturers look to the future of packaging, more questions than solutions are being raised as every substantial change in material and technology comes paired with enormous re-tooling costs.

While some companies have found worthwhile return on their investment in packaging innovation (Starkist’s resealable tuna pouches come to mind), many simply don’t see value in the risk when trends and customer demand can change again, seemingly overnight.

Which brings us to the lateral move in innovation. Not implying that inconsequential changes are called for, rather, packaging innovation exists outside the physical structure or consumer-facing design of packaging. As the definition of packaging design expands to include examining resources, processing, distribution and supply chain management, designers have the opportunity to do something even more remarkable and influential, albeit less sexy.

A strategic approach to design looks for the opportunity not only to make something new, but re-make existing products and packaging. The glass bottle that’s been manufactured for nearly a century, isn’t poised for re-invention as much as it is for perfection. With an increased concern for shipping weight, degradability and overall sustainability, the glass bottle is undergoing a renaissance, not replacement.

Designers are finding new way to lite-weight glass using advanced 3-D modeling technology and a technique called narrow-neck press and blow that produces bottles with a more even glass distribution and increased control of the shape and temperature of the parison.

The costs savings through resource and shipping weight reduction alone can be staggering for a large manufacturer. Extending to consumer benefits and marketplace differentiation are more subtle, but still achievable with the right positioning and brand connection. Method, for example, seem to have hit the right balance between environmental and consumer benefit with their recent introduction of soft-pack hand-soap refills.

Innovation designers will always aim far. But with an understanding of the business value design can create through strategic thinking and planning, innovative packaging design can focus on a wider range of available ROI, and truly impact the future of consumables.

The Future Before We Went Digital

As the creator of one of the most completely imagined futures, Jacque Fresco has created, and continues to imagine, transportation, architecture, energy structures and large construction vehicles that are to come. His iconic vision is the familiar one: curved walls, larger-than-life landscapes, effortless travel and pristine interiors.

Through his Venus Project (headquartered in Venus, Florida) the now 92-year futurist has produced numerous books and a film, Future by Design (2006). Optimistic in it’s outlook, Fresco’s future seems all to familiar to us today, but not because it came true. As with any vision of the future, important cultural developments can never be fully accounted for.

Fresco’s vision is a utopian one, in which resources are the only real currency. Admittedly, he points to WWII as the closest approximation to this vision. During the war, the only limits on American production were the resources themselves, not financial barriers. Rather than determine out abilities based on the gold standard or funds, we produced with primary resources such as iron and foodstuffs.

Likewise, his designs imagine a future based in elemental experience. Landscapes are seemingly untouched. Towering structures like solitary trees emerge from the ground effortlessly. Homes are submerged in thriving seas.

Humans move through his future as if without direction or purpose. Like the film Time Machine, Fresco’s future eerily creates a culture of aloofness. Absent is the toil and overwhelming burden of the digital age. Despite a large portion of the world being freed from machines and hard labor, the digital age has not alleviated the world from so much work. The dreams of futurists in Fresco’s time are the same as our own: endless leisure.

Will we ever develop into a culture that so perfectly integrates the natural and developed worlds? Or will we continue on our current path towards a highly networked, yet disconnected world? Even as our “humanity” continues to dissolve into the digital age, I’m willing to bet that the future will always aspire to be more like that of Jacque Fresco’s. And even if it all goes wrong, we’ll always have Dubai.

Self-Medicating for the Mondays

Papabubble, a new high-end candy store in Barcelona takes a future-antique approach to packaging. The neutral, if not industrial hues of the shelving and packaging sharpen the otherwise apothecary feel of the space, using the bright and playful palette of the actual candy to liven the store.

Multiple types of packages, from clear plastic to boxes and jars, visually transform the candies into medicines, jewelry and accessories.

Papabubble challenges another Barcelona candy boutique, Happy Pills. Also playing on the apothecary theme, Happy Pills keeps it traditional using large medicine jars with opaque white labels. But Happy Pills sends a strong message with their hot pink branding, especially the large plus-sign. The pink both clashes and compliments the wide range of candy colors, creating a visual buzz throughout the shop.

Both shops take our memory of penny candy and turn it into an iconic, trend-forward experience using the pure energy of color and material. The sheer delight of color and candy will brighten up any Monday, if taken according to Happy Pills’ orders.

Philips Design Probe

Termed a “dedicated far-future research initiative,” Philips investigates the future of our senses with nanotech, smartinks and oleds.

SKIN looks to the future of tattoos. When activated (likely with heat, natural human voltage, or chemical reactions in the skin), Philips predicts the animated, self-revealing tattoo. SKIN enables us to express ourselves through skin art that reveals how and when we choose.

Another investigation within SKIN is the dress project. Using various forms of lighted textiles, clothing could express emotions in real time. Philips foresees a shift from intelligent to sensitive technologies, wanting to infuse technologies with our humanity, rather than the other way around.

An in conjunction with STELLA, a European project for electronic textile development, Philips brings us Skintile. Part clothing, park skin, Skintile looks to the future of integrated jewelry that can not only express our moods, but enhance them as well. Philips calls Skintiles “semi-disposable, bio-compatible, non-allergenic, breathable, mass-customizable, self-contained body worn accessories.”

View other Philips Design Probe concepts, and leave your valuable feedback here

Material Lust – Nendo, Josh Jakus

Returning to the most basic of materials, designers Nendo and Josh Jakus both explore the aesthetics of the mundane.

Nendo, a Japanese firm working in architecture, interior, graphic and product design, produced four roototes (a clever multi-pocket tote bag design by Super Planning). Each concept re-visits the everyday, such as paper bags and shopping receipts, with a compelling graphic treatment. The tromp l’oeil effect is playful and transforms an otherwise ignored element of our typical experience into a desireable object.

John Jakus, a Berkely, California-based designer is similarly focused on “making experiential connections between form and function.” His bags, and various household inventions, are made of recycled industrial felt, a most basic material. Simplifying his material choice elevates the ingenious functionality of his unique enclosures and formed structures. Even in a simple clutch, Jakus’ lust for material purity is evident.

Many Jakus bags are available in Chicago at Hazel.