Emotion & Design: Attractive things work better
Often good design is conflated with designs that incorporate the most mechanically efficient ways to complete certain tasks. For example, a well-designed kettle would be one that pours well, and heats up really fast. It could have some cool features, such as being able to maintain the temperature accurately. Function is the priority. But does that mean that form is unimportant?
Donald Norman addresses this question in Emotion & Design using the examples of three very different teapots: one that is inefficient, with its handle and spout facing the same direction, one that is effective in what it does, and one that is aesthetically pleasing. Yet, not one of them could be labelled as the best designed teapot.
There are two general reasons for this. The first is that form and function are related; they add to one another. Time flies by when you’re having fun. Similarly, things feel better designed if they’re fun to use.
On the other hand, an object doesn’t even need to be that functional for it to be well designed. For example, take the Impossible teapot. It certainly doesn’t function too well as a teapot. You could brew tea in it, but the ergonomic experience would be terrible. Yet, it serves as a statement piece, or a conversation starter.
However, I think there is some distinction that needs to be made. I don’t think that as long as you enjoy using something, it is well designed. You could find a use for anything and enjoy it, but that would make the design of an object a subjective matter. I believe that there has to be some objectivity and some kind of measure of how well something is designed. In that sense, an object has to be intentionally designed in a certain way, targeted to fit some sort of function, and be good at it. If you allow looking good to be a function, then form and function meld together and we have a consistent system of determining what is well-designed, and what is not.
Her Code Got Humans on the Moon – And Invented Software Itself
Back in 1960, a period when women were discouraged from diving into technical realms, Hamilton began as a programmer at MIT, initially planning to support her husband through law school. But fate had other plans – the Apollo program emerged, and Hamilton found herself leading a groundbreaking engineering venture that would reshape what humanity deemed achievable.
As a mother working in the 1960s and a programmer for spacecraft, Hamilton’s narrative is anything but conventional; it is downright radical. Her story challenges not only the norms of the tech world but also societal expectations. Exploring her experiences made me rethink what I consider success to be. Is it reaching your goals, or the entire journey you take till the end.
Margaret Hamilton’s story challenges norms and suggests that success doesn’t always follow a conventional script. As a college student navigating a landscape of uncertainties, I see in her journey a call to embrace the unconventional, challenge stereotypes, and approach challenges with resilience. Her legacy urges us to view setbacks not as roadblocks but as avenues for innovation. Her unconventional path serves as a reminder that greatness often emerges from uncharted territories. As I navigate my academic and professional journey, I’ll carry Hamilton’s spirit—an emblem of resilience, innovation, and the transformative power of embracing the unexpected.