There is a tendency in the tech world to use layers of technology to constantly “improve” our products, leading us constantly into new and uncharted technological territory. This approach, like many things, works fine at first, but can quickly become problematic. This form of “innovation” is easy to do, and incredibly pervasive in the design culture as I write this, despite the fact that it leads to utter nonsense.
As an illustration, consider a simple loaf of bread: flour, water, yeast. Mix, let rise, bake, enjoy. One of the great joys of bread-making is the beautiful simplicity of the process. If all the bread in the world were made this way, however, we’d probably get bored very quickly. So we begin to add things for flavor and texture: sugar, salt, butter, et cetera. By adding simple ingredients, man has devised thousands of varieties of bread based on the simple combination of flour and water, and more are invented each year. This beautiful variety makes life interesting and fun, and keeps bakeries in business.
But if innovative bread simply meant adding ingredients, we’d end up with some strange breads indeed. Simply adding more and more ingredients will make a loaf progressively less and less palatable: who wants a flour, water, yeast, salt, sugar, butter, oregano, tumeric, asiago, garlic, parsley, paprika, cinnamon, black pepper, banana, sour cream, chocolate, cumin loaf? Clearly no one would willingly eat this loaf of bread, and yet this is exactly the methodology we use when developing new technology: all too often we throw every technological innovation we can muster into the same mixer and call it “new and improved!”
It is true innovation can come from technologically complex products. The mobile phone is one of the most world-changing developments of the twentieth century, and it is an incredibly complex loaf of bread. Cell phones rely on the innovative technologies in electronics, acoustics, radio communications, chemistry, manufacturing, networking, and logistics. The existence of the modern global mobile phone network is an incredible technological feat by any measure, not to mention its unbelievably rapid rise to ubiquity.
The cell phone succeeds despite all this complexity because it affords a very simple opportunity to humanity in the simplest way yet discovered: it allows you to talk to virtually anyone, from virtually anywhere. This advantage justifies the complexity of the product, since said complexity is absolutely necessary for the basic function of the product.
But adding technological complexity does not automatically improve a product. Take a look at “Chumby“. Chumby is an alarm clock with internet access. It can play music, “browse” the web (on it’s teensie-weensie screen), and even has custom interfaces to various blogging and photo sharing sites. Chumby–in my humble opinion–is totally useless. It has a million “features”, but none of them are really useful, at least not moreso than other more conventional gadgets. Chumby is not a solution to a problem, and it’s not even a solution in search of a problem: it’s a problem. Chumby is more usefull as a croquet ball than anything else. Even then it doesn’t roll straight. This is not innovation, this is at best distraction, and at worst regression.
When solving problems, rather than asking “how can we make a better mousetrap”, one must ask “how can we trap mice better?” This simple distinction is the defining characteristic of what I call “reductive” problem solving: the goal is to reduce the problem to its semplest elements, and solve each element as simply as possible.
The principle is easy enough, but it’s amazing how few people actually attempt to innovate in this way. It is much more common in today’s technological field to look for ways of “adding functionality”, rather than “removing complexity”. As a product designer I struggle with this every single day. I am constantly trying to find ways of making a product with fewer parts, fewer controls, fewer user interactions, fewer barriers between user and product benefit. Technology will be absolutely critical to making products simpler in the future, but we must be careful not to use technology as a substitute for real innovation.
Technology is a means to an end, not an end in itself.
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Adam O'Hern is an industrial design consultant specializing in visual brand languages, and has designed products ranging from laptops to power tools, classroom toys to bathroom fixtures, and robots to lint rollers. He has published with 3DWorld Magazine, CGTuts+, and Luxology, and works with Josh Mings of SolidSmack.com on EngineerVsDesigner.com. |







the comment you make about barriers is similar to thoughts i was having just last night, related to a problem my old teachers were having with current students. (one of which we gave some work experience)
These students have little to no basic sketching ability and were all trying to use 3d software like solidworks to do conceptual design and wouldn’t listen to the logic of why that wasn’t a good idea.
It all boils down to barriers. With a pen and paper the only barrier between you and your ideas is your hand and your pen, as a result the brain is unencumbered and can focus well. it’s still the simplest method of realising ideas. the more technology gets involved in the design process (graphic tablets, illustrator, 3d etc) the more barriers are introduced. All this has the predictable result that you spend more time interacting with these barriers and less time focussing on design.