Happy Monday!
This week’s issue we’re stepping back and exploring the surprising value of useless things. We’re admiring the whimsical Eames-designed Solar Do-Nothing Machine and questioning what the right balance is between function and emotion. Sometimes in design it’s the things that are hard to justify rationally that matter the most.
Question: Should design be functional, or emotional?
Design is defined by its utility. Unlike art, we expect design to provide us with some useful function in order to accept it into our lives. At least, that’s the story our rational brain tells us. Appealing to this unimpeachably logical side of us we find every product description practically humming with gigabytes, megapixels, thread counts and earnest lists of useful ‘features’.
And yet as seductive as this simple explanation is, it doesn’t fully satisfy. One of the themes I detected in the talks at Config last month was personality— as I put it then: ‘a determination to reconnect on a human level with the people on the other side of the screen’. In other words, to go beyond simple usefulness and establish an emotional connection with the people that we’re trying to do something for. The impression I took away from that week in San Francisco was that as a discipline we believe we’ve been neglectful of, or distracted from this part of our role.
I’ve always felt that the age old Form or Function argument is misframed, with the really opposition being between Emotion and Function. Form or appearance just being one of the more common ways that an emotional connection is established. I think it is also true that form or emotion often gets trivialised or treated as inessential or soft. Treated, you might say, as a little bit useless.
But when you think about the things that you love using the most there’s always some kind of emotional thread that links you to them, something quite fragile that is more than the sum of a feature checklist. It’s what it feels like to hold, or pour or fidget with that makes it special to you. And so whilst our departure point as designers should probably always be a real problem, let’s defend the right to explore those fuzzier parts of our work that others all too readily dismiss as useless. Because we know that deep down that they’re not at all.
Design takeaway: How could you put more emotion into your design?
❤️ Design Lobster #71 explored the emotional side of data
Object: Solar Do-Nothing Machine
I couldn’t think of a more perfect encapsulation of delightfully useless design than the Solar Do-Nothing Machine—created by Charles and Ray Eames in 1957. This visually captivating kinetic sculpture serves no practical purpose beyond delighting the senses and exploring the potential of solar power. Commissioned by the Aluminum Company of America (Alcoa) for a marketing campaign, the toy was intended to demonstrate the versatility and aesthetic appeal of aluminium.
Constructed primarily from brightly coloured anodised aluminium, the Solar Do-Nothing Machine is powered by solar energy. When exposed to sunlight, its intricate gears, wheels, and other components sprung into motion, creating a mesmerising display of movement and light.
“Toys are really not as innocent as they look. Toys and games are the preludes to serious ideas.”
—Charles Eames
The Eames knew more than anyone the power of curiosity and the Do-Nothing Machine was but one expression of this out of many in their work. A testbed for material processes and formal explorations you can see elements of its visual and material language in furniture from side tables to card decks. Design moves so rarely in a perfectly straight line, and this project is a reminder to enjoy the detours. Often the things you discover when you’re ‘messing about’ end up being the most valuable.
Design takeaway: What could you make to feed your curiosity and take your work in a more interesting direction?
📺 Watch the Solar Do-Nothing Machine in action
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Quote: “But now I don’t want to make something useful – what I want is to tell a story.”
– Janette Laverrière
Janette Laverrière was a Swiss-French designer whose whimsical furniture and interiors straddled Art Deco and Modernism. In her later years her design work shifted in a more autobiographical direction and this quote comes from that time. Not everything should have our personal history stamped on it but I am interested in the provocation that sometimes we should be led more by our storytelling instincts than our rational faculties.
Hope you get to make something useless this week,
Ben 🦞
Elsewhere…
🟩 Is the Brat summer already over? Read my essay on ugliness if you are confused by all of this.
👁️ The difficult art of seeing with innocence - Mexican architect Luis Barragan’s 1980 Pritzker Laureate acceptance speech.
🤖 If AI makes building trivial, the challenge shifts for the industry to be who is the best at deciding what to make. That problem may become harder, because the need for it is clearer than ever. Scott Berkun on designers and AI
And lastly, a design remix…
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the do-nothing machine is so fun!
Thanks for this newsletter, always a pleasure to read. I've recently created an updated laser cut version of an old tradition of wonderboxes, or what you may know as the old peep show apparatus. Comparing the new laser cut version with the old hand-crafted version was a HUGE wake up call to the importance of the emotional aspect of design. Of course I knew that my version would look and feel different, but the magnitude of difference when comparing them side by side was much starker than what I had expected. Your article is helpful as I ponder what to do about it, and if I even need to do anything about it or just accept it and run with it as it is.