Category Archives: Design

What bad design wastes

Design

Ever since I read Eric Ries and went into a decade-and-a-half sustained tantrum I’ve been thinking about how impoverished our conceptions of waste are.

I haven’t revisited this topic since AI reduced the time to code from weeks to hours.

Where even three years ago designers could appeal to a manager’s or engineer’s fears of wasting months building the wrong thing and suggest adding two weeks to the process to reduce that risk, it is much harder to suggest spending two weeks to reduce the risk of wasting two days, much less two hours.

But this was never anything more than pandering to the impoverished conception of waste. What is really at stake in this question is wasting something much more fragile, and much harder to measure.

Product releases that neglect testing with users are even more wasteful — it is just that they externalize waste to users, and, consequently waste relationship resources.

In the days before Agile and its many offshoots, UXers felt something very few designers feel anymore. We felt fiercely protective of our users. We lived in horror that we might confuse them, inconvenience them, frustrate them or otherwise alienate them with our design mistakes. For this reason, the idea of putting something out without first testing it was unthinkable.

We didn’t want to waste our user’s time, comfort, or good mood, not only because they would leave and not use whatever it was we were designing today — but because this would damage the relationship long-term. They might never want to try again. It might even damage their overall relationship with the brand.

So, yes, we wanted to learn how to improve the design, and consequently improve the experience of using the design — which was our real goal.

But we wanted to learn before we put the thing before users, because learning after the release meant that we’d already inflicted pain on the user and damaged the relationship.

But Eric Ries not only saw nothing wrong with learning from user pain, he perpetualized it by making this learning-from-pain a continuous never-ending process. He, like way too damn many engineers and product managers failed to distinguish between improving his product (as a thing) and improving his user’s experience (which is how it is to use the thing, now and over time):

I’m a cofounder and chief technology officer of this company, which is called IMVU. At this point in our careers, my cofounders and I are determined to make new mistakes. We do everything wrong: instead of spending years perfecting our technology, we build a minimum viable product, an early product that is terrible, full of bugs and crash-your-computer-yes-really stability problems. Then we ship it to customers way before it’s ready. And we charge money for it. After securing initial customers, we change the product constantly — much too fast by traditional standards — shipping new versions of our product dozens of times every single day. We really did have customers in those early days — true visionary early adopters — and we often talked to them and asked for their feedback. But we emphatically did not do what they said. We viewed their input as only one source of information about our product and overall vision. In fact, we were much more likely to run experiments on our customers than we were to cater to their whims.

Traditional business thinking says that this approach shouldn’t work but it does and you don’t have to take my word for it. As you’ll see throughout this book, the approach we pioneered at IMVU has become the basis for a new movement of entrepreneurs around the world. It builds on many previous management and product development ideas, including lean manufacturing, design thinking, customer development, and agile development. It represents a new approach to creating continuous innovation. It’s called the Lean Startup.

But now, as vibe-coders careen ahead at top-speed — cutting designers out of the process and throwing whatever UI slop AI cranks out as fast as they can rub their magic genie-lamp machines — the practice of externalizing waste to customers will be the norm. We will learn to expect wasted time, effort, calm, and happiness from our dealings with organizations.

And, our relationships will devolve accordingly. Seething resentment, anxious mistrust and disgusted alienation will characterize how we feel about organizations who provide us ever lowering low-touch, low-care, low-thought products and services — designed for learning from the pain to which we are incessantly subjected.

Think about your service providers and ask yourself if this isn’t already mostly true.

Craft vs craftmanship

Design

Apparently the word “craft” is trending in the design world right now. I’ve been hearing it said around my own organization with suspicious frequency, always connected with building things that are well-built.

But when I hear how most designers — or at design consultants — talk about craft, what I hear is craftsmanship, which has less to do with the mode of making and more about the characteristics of the artifact.

I swear most people only say “craft” to avoid gendered language or awkwardly degendered language: “The craftsmanship… er, craftspersonship… uh… CRAFT on this deliverable is unacceptably imperfect!”

The distinction matters, though, and it is not academic hairsplitting, because it pertains to design practice on multiple levels.

By my understanding:

  • Craft describes qualities of how a thing is made.
  • Craftsmanship describes qualities of what has or is being made.

So what is this mode of making called craft? And how does it differ from other modes? Craft, as opposed to what, exactly?

Craft is material dialogue.

Craft — or at least good craft — is responsive to what is crafted. What is crafted responds to the crafter in sometimes surprising and inspiring ways. An aphorism: Craft is material dialogue.

Craft has several characteristics that differentiate it from other modes of making. Craft is:

  • Rapidly iterative. Rapidly means as close to real-time as possible. The longer the delays in the feedback loop, the harder it is to maintain craft.
  • Emergent. This means the looping feedback creates unpredictable qualitative changes to the crafted thing.
  • Responsive. This can be seen as a corollary of emergence. Because the craft generates emergent qualities that cannot be foreseen, the making cannot follow a set plan. The plan must change with the changing conditions the craft itself produces.
  • Reflexive. This means that the crafting changes not only the crafted artifact, but the maker as well. The changes might be a mix of theoretical understanding, or it might be purely intuitive, but at the deepest levels of craft it can be transformative.

So here are modes of making that are not craft, or modes that aspire to minimize the need for craft.

  • Planning
  • Specification
  • Implementation
  • Fabrication

Any process where the outcome is defined prior to the shaping of materials is not craft.

A plan, specification, implementation and fabrication can be said to have great craftsmanship if its construction is sound and flawless.

Today, though, I am seeing something very new in this 16-year-old idea.

Over the last eight years I’ve thought a lot about materials, and how important it is for designers to have a feel for them, if they are to effectively form them. In connection with this I’ve said the material of service design is organizations and, because organizations are so complex and heterogeneous, service problems are often far too large to fit inside any one person’s (or even team’s!) head — and that this is why service design collaborations involve a staggering number of people from many disciplines.

Somehow, though, I never put these two ideas together:

  • Craft is material dialogue.
  • The material of service design is organizations.

A craft of service design would be dialogue with organization as material, and this is incredibly hard. Real craft would require iterative rapid prototyping and testing with a representative cross section of the organization, with freedom to respond to emergent qualities of the service, which might transform the understanding the team has of the service problem itself.

Much of the time, what designers say they are designing is not in fact what they are crafting.

So a UX designer who says they are designing an experience, but lacks access to people who will use what they design, is not crafting an experience, because the experiential material is lacking. What they are crafting is a digital interface.

I’m thinking out loud, so bear with me.

A designer’s true material is the material available to them to craft.

Watch what a designer is touching and shaping, being surprised by, responding to, learning from, and changing them as a practitioner — and that is their true craft.

Ok, now I’ve said it messily. I’ll work on cleaning, compacting, simplifying it later. Because conceptual language is my craft.

And this, by the way, gives me an excuse for being so damn repetitive. These are iterations searching for emergence and profound, transformative shock.

Perplexity, again

Design, Ideas

Note: This post was originally written in July 6, 2010, but left in draft form. I was digging through my writing to see when I first defined craft as material dialogue, and this is the earliest form of the concept I can find. I’m publishing it now in raw form, so please excuse any typos or weird anachronistic outbursts.

When a situation we face is palpably problematic, but we do not know what to do with it, what we face is not yet a problem, but a pre-problem: a perplexity.

What does it mean, to “not know what to do with it”?

Obviously, part of the trouble is a lack of clear definition of the problem. We cannot explain what is wrong, or what needs solving, or what a resolution would look like. The whole problematic situation is just “wrong” and a resolution is imagined entirely negatively: the perplexity must go away.

But there is much more to a perplexity than inability to think or speak clearly about it. We resolve problematic situations all the time without thinking or speaking. We intuit our way through things, wordlessly, and usually with great success. (It might even be the case that we only think explicitly when our intuition fails us. See note below.)

When we fall into perplexity, our intuition is paralyzed. This is usually where we fall back on explicit thinking. We think about what we should do next. But in a perplexity, we find nothing in our intellectual repertoire to help us. But it doesn’t even end there.

The worst part of a perplexity comes when we grope for an approach to think about our situation and our intuition fails us again. Not only do we lack any sense of what to do; not only do we lack thoughts to help guide our action — we have no feel for how to go about thinking about it.

We do not understand how to understand the situation.

(Note on tacit action: This certainly appears to be the case with most tools we use. If you have to verbally recall how to use a piece of software — or any tool — in order to use it, the tool feels “unintuitive”. We want to be absorbed in dialogue with the artifact we are crafting (craft is dialogue between creator and creation), but the dominates the conversation with incessant interruptions. Dialogue can only happen when the medium of conversation is not itself a distraction. This is why people instinctively impose linguistic constraints around subjects they wish to make undiscussable.

Pragmatic design maxim

Design, Pragmatism

The pragmatic meaning of a designed thing is the set of behaviors that follow from its activation.

There are other meanings of a design, of course, but from the perspective of business viability this is the literal cash value of any designed thing.

Artificial style

Art, Autobiography, Design, Enworldment, Esoterism

My friend Ash wrote a post on LinkedIn.

Artificial taste is not taste.

In fact, it reeks even more of ineptitude and forgery than Al hallucinations and tells. Hallucinations and tells are at least true reflections of their source.

The only thing convincing about work produced with “design like” and “write like” prompts is that it convinces the audience the creator has insufficient skill for the job and is trying to get away with something.

By the way, this perspective isn’t remotely anti-Al. It’s pro-creativity. I use Al every day in what I hope are creative and constructive ways.

I almost responded and then I got embarrassed for trying to speak philosophically in a professional setting.

I think you’re very right about this. Taste indirectly indicates a standpoint from which a first-person perspective potentially may be experienced. I think that is why genuine style innovations suggest unknown places or scenes where life is lived differently.

Counterfeit style promises a perspective but can’t deliver on that promise. Instead it serves up style schtick. It is a symptom of lack of integrity, sometimes so total that it isn’t even cynical, because the counterfeiter cannot even imagine a coherent perspective spontaneously experienced from an integrated personality. Style is just consistent decorative logic applied to the same-old here and now.

I remember at the dawn of adolescence, when I first experienced punk, I wanted to go wherever that was happening, and that place was definitely not rural South Carolina, where I was stuck. I had the same reaction to REM, and that was in a place pretty similar to where I was in most respects. But the style space was entirely new and promising, and that was where I wanted to go.

Punks always disparaged poseurs. Poseurs were happy staying right where they were as who they were, and they adopted punk stylings to continue playing the same boring prestige games.

It is essentially the same charge perennialists level against syncretists.

Note on my embarrassment: I wasn’t ashamed of my ideas. I was ashamed of placing them in the wrong forum. You don’t throw fancy-pants pearls into a practical pigpen.

Service system development

Design, Philosophy, Polycentered design, Polycentrism

The interface between business viability and design desirability is behaviors.

The success of every business initiative hinges on customer behaviors, and to a slightly lesser extent the behaviors of people on the front lines who serve those customers, and the behaviors of many others who support the front line.

Design specializes in what motivates those behaviors, which inhibits or redirects them, and what kinds of conditions encourage networks of behavior that produce favorable business outcomes.

The interface between operational feasibility and design “desirability” (I prefer “adoptable” or “joinable” or even “partakable”) is the shaping of the actual conditions that produce the behaviors. This, of course involves the production of the customer touchpoints designers shape. But in service design, internal touchpoints exist at every interface between people and the rest of the organization. Besides touchpoints, there are also organizational infrastructure that are not touchpoints in any conventional sense — policies, team structures, technologies, partnerships, etc. These enable or constrain conditions for behaviors, and these are carefully considered and, where appropriate, changed.

The interface between business viability and operational feasibility is the initial and ongoing investment to produce the conditions that will produce the behavioral return on investment.

The overlap of all three together is what I call the field of service system development, one third of which is service design, fluent in business viability and operational feasibility, but specializing in adoption/participation factors.

Quadrephania

Design, Esoterism, Kabbalah, Metaphysics, Philosophy, Polycentered design

Within the actual world are myriad objects of myriad materials which can be combined or taken apart, in myriad ways.

Within the formational world are myriad subjects to whom reality is given and withheld, each in its own way, according to receptive capacities and responsive capabilities.

Within the revelatory world is being beyond subjectivity and objectivity, the source of all articulate reality – differentiation-in-unity – intelligibility. Here reality is given as absolute truth, inconceivable and incomprehensible, all-conceiving and all-comprehending, ineffable but certain. The source of subject is known solely by its fruits, subjective reformation effects objective change, revelation, creation, instauration ex nihilo.

Within the infinite world emanates the source of being, the source of infinite unity, beyond all. Here reality is ungiven mystery: infinite One. Emanating: am-ing, adonai-ing, is-was-will-be-ing.

Why am I compelled to return to the four worlds again and again, to show them so they can be recognized by those with the capacity to do so?

Because these worlds, far from exotic or distant or rare, are more present than presence, all the time. The only question is whether we are ready to receive them in their full fourfoldness and respond.

The actual world acts upon us, and we act upon it. The actual world resists us, and we resist it. We know reality by its defiance of our actions and expectations. We intuit many possibilities, and we are met with exponentially more impossibilities.

The formational world surprises us with different givenness from different subjects. Reality is given to me differently from how it is given to you. Reality is given to biology differently from how it is given to mathematics or to literature. We cannot in good faith doubt it is the same reality, but we cannot avoid contending with the difference, and this very contention is seeking an ever-elusive transcendent truth.

The revelatory world – which is also the creative world, and thus the instaurational world – is the world that radically surprises us with spontaneous changes to our own subjectivity and consequently changes to the givenness of reality. This is the site of the miracle of re-enworldment ex nihilo. Any first re-enworldment will be taken as revelation of a true self in a true world. But a truer self in a truer world is given with multiple re-enworldments, and this is the exnihilist enworldment of ever-possible enworldment.

And the infinite world? The more present we are to what is present to us, the more real its omnipresent reality is to us as ground, and the more important our belonging within it grows.

Let me make this even more plain, and more practical. Let us root this in actual events in the actual world.

Most of the time we must adopt one subject – and its objectivity – as the sole valid subject.

Subjects are complex. We all contain multitudes. In addition to the subjective universals assumed to be shared by all human beings (Husserl’s famous “lifeworld”), educated people are taught to understand the world scientifically, mathematically, historically, politically, fictionally, legally, economically, etc. to varying degrees. And all these subjects are coordinated within a sort of ideal collective “supersubjectivity” within which we situate our own partial understandings, as we socially participate in organizational life. In our organization, some things are known best by us and other things make partial sense to us. Other things we ignore and leave to others.

Any organization has a supersubjectivity, and it determines the intra-subjective order within its social being. A university is an example of an unusually expansive, deep and explicitly structured supersubjective organization. Unless an organization is some kind of tyrannical cult dominated by one genius and limited to that one person’s subject – (and trust me, such places do exist) – an organization’s supersubjectivity transcends the subjectivity of each person who participates in it. But it is real, and it guides the reasoning and reasoned actions of an organization.

Problems arise though if the supersubjectivity of an organization is unable to effectively address the subjectivities that the organization attempts to serve with its offerings (its systems of interconnected services and products). The organization’s way of making sense and responding puts it at odds with its customers. Other problems arise if the organization’s way of making sense and responding is so similar to its competitors that its offerings have little or no compelling differentiation. And yet other organizations have pockets of self-oblivion inside their own walls, subjects who have become alienated from the supersubjectivity of the organization in which they operate, playing no role in the overall organizational understanding, but compelled to perform tasks directed by others.

In these cases an organization might seek help from designers. Designers, if they know what design actually is and know how to do design – (and trust me, this is a live “if”) – work to understand the multiple subjects who participate in the common actuality of an organization, receiving, delivering or supporting its offerings, but who experience, understand and respond from different subjective centers. Designers seek better understandings capable of doing better justice to the subjects who constitute the supersubjectivity of the organization.

By doing better justice to the subjects who constitute the supersubjectivity of the organization, designers address the three problems mentioned above. They find a higher-order supersubjective understanding in which customers are fully understood. The responses, informed by these better understandings, make customers feel understood and cared about, and this better understanding is innately compelling and often differentiating. And if an organization is wise – (another live “if”) – it will involve internal alienated subjects, often front-liners, who were poorly understood for the same reasons customers were.

But these changes to supersubjectivity are not easy, and this is a source of constant pain for designers. It is an intense and radical pain, but it is a good pain, a labor pain. Any change in supersubjectivity potentially changes the intersubjective order and hierarchy of the subjects who constitute it. And the pain is felt long before the final change state comes into view, because this change state transcends both the subjectivities of each person in the organization and the supersubjectivity as a whole. The whole organization suffers a collective “dark night of the soul” on the way to its transformative insights that reveal its opportunity to serve in radically better new ways.

And if an organization is led by people lacking awareness of realities beyond its own actual world, given by its own supersubjectivity – with the leadership’s own subjectivity fortuitously positioned at the pinnacle of the subjective hierarchy – these leaders will be perplexed by a focus on subjectivities (what are those? How do you objectively define, measure and track a subject?). The subjects get reduced to data objects. If designers speak of experiences, the experiences are also reduced to objects – the artifacts and events that get experienced. Perhaps subjects are mainly emotion-things person-things have, plus distortions (prejudices, biases and confabulations) or distortion-things to perception-things person-things have. Such people believe design research will give them objective data about people, and cannot even comprehend the possibility of research changing a subjective state – neither their own, nor that of their organization. If they are made to apprehend this incomprehensible possibility, they feel apprehension, perplexity, angst – and often become aggressive.

This confinement to the actual world, and the systematic efforts made to manipulate, control, leverage and monetize the actual world, are symptomatic of a supersubject known as technik, and it is common to all technocratic systems including managerial capitalism and socialism.

Technik precludes design even as it attempts to use design to further its dominance.

Design’s essential purpose is ascending from actual reality (and its systems) to subjective enworldments (and their divergent givens) in order to instaurate higher-order enworldments capable of reshaping actual reality in ways that reenworld us together in a shared world in which we all fully belong.

The technik-bound “design expert” serves this preclusive exploitation of design, and pretends to advance design while alienating and enslaving it. And such design experts are exactly as apprehensive, perplexed and aggressive toward real design as any other technocrat.

I grew up in a pseudoreligion that despised religion so profoundly that it denied any difference between its own parodic counterfeit and the real thing. It refused to acknowledge any essential difference, because it denied the very reality of “the difference that makes a difference.” “No, no,” it said, “All religion, despite its divine delusions, has a purely sociological function; and the only difference is that we know it, while our theistic inferiors do not.”

I know this move, and so I know exactly what pseudodesign is doing when it claims that its own managerial engineering is design and can dispense with the subjective essence of the craft.

“Design constructs object-systems of touch-point-objects, service-delivery-actor-objects and service-support-actor-objects (linked by processes, constrained by policies, enabled by technologies) that service-receiver-objects have good perception-objects, feeling-objects and thought-objects about — which motivate desired behavior-objects that drive objective business results.”

Do I care about design because of all the esoteric realities that emerge as givens in design work?

Do I care about esoterism because it helps me understanding the uncanny realities that irrupt into the deepest, most consequential design work?

I think both concerns are rooted in a common faith — a faith which long predated articulation, belief or practice, which drew me forward toward something mysterious and infinitely important, and continues to do so.

Systemic gift-rejection

Design, Philosophy, Polycentered design

Any service designer will tell you that value exchanges (or cocreation) are our core concern. At every point in the unfolding of service, value is exchanged or generated among those receiving, delivering and supporting that service. If the value exchange is solid, the service feels worth it to everyone, and everyone plays their part. If it stops feeling worth it, people stop participating, or they withhold full cooperation, and the service starts to unravel.

Typically we think of these exchanges as investments and returns. ?Everyone puts something into a transaction, in order to get something out.

But there is another element of value exchange that is neglected, if not rejected: those things we give because we need to give them. These are our gifts, and giving these gifts gives our lives purpose.

When we are given opportunities to give our gifts, life enters the services we serve, and invests our organization with purpose and consecrating radiance.

Few system-builders consider this crucial and infinitely renewable resource.

Most organizations are ready to squander everything in order to avoid wasting time and money.

Years ago I made a list of resources designers should consider. Somehow the original list got lost, but I found one record of it in a list of planned talks:

“Lean How?: How Design Methods Make Waste Tradeoffs” – Lean methodologies tend to emphasize efficiencies of time and money, but these are often gained at the cost of wasting other resources. This talk proposes looking at forms of internal waste (time, money, team morale, organizational credibility) and external waste (customer goodwill, innovation opportunities, attention and brand equity) and seeing choice of methodology in terms of waste trade-offs.

Volume titles

Autobiography, Design, Design Instrumentalism, Enworldment, Everso, Exnihilism, Philosophy, Works

I’ve had many names for this book brewing in my head, each with its own thematic emphasis.

The book always concerns the relationship between design practice, our own personal and collective psychic-orders (faith) and our experience of the world. The core claim is always the same: our conceptions of design, of philosophy and of religion could benefit from a specific kind of revision.

Of course, each domain is fascinating and contested, and has undergone ceaseless revision since inception. And the intersections between the domains have been explored, often fruitfully, at least in pairs.

My tall claim is that if we shift our understanding of all three of them together in a particular way, they can be understood together in mutually reinforcing ways, that they gain clarity, relevance and inspirational force together as a metaphysical whole and separately as focused domains.

I have seen them this way for about two decades now, and this understanding has only strengthened, brightened and sharpened over the years. It has been uncomfortable, for it has misfitted me everywhere I would most love to belong, but these social costs are far outweighed by the practical, theoretical and inspirational benefits.

But these reunderstandings do not stop at theory. They have pragmatic and existential consequences. And the reunderstandings do not start with theory, either. What has necessitated the theoretical work has been the inadequacy of words and concepts to serve reality as directly intuited. The explanations we give for things we experience often neglect, dismiss, obscure, confuse the most important givens of everyday life.

So, while the medium of the work seems to be philosophical writing, its message points beyond philosophical content, and urges some revisions to the fundamental ontologic that shapes literally everything, sets relevance, affords and constrains possible responses, before it even occurs to us to think about anything.

So what is in question, although it is handled philosophically, and philosophy plays a central role, is not a philosophy. Nor is it an observation or a practice. It is all of these at once. And once adopted, it constitutes a different way to understand, inhabit, participate in and experience reality.

For that reason Enworldment has been a front-runner all-along, and the likely final title.

But Exnihilism is close, and it might split off into a short work of its own, perhaps a manifesto. Exnihilism will emphasize the uncanniness of revealed possibility, always from nothingness (ex nihilo); the harrowing ordeals a person must endure in order to receive such epiphanies; and the changed relationship with nothingness that such epiphanies bring, namely that nihilism becomes impossible. But revelation is not the right word. What is taken — received, perceived, conceived — is not just sitting there like some thing to grab onto and have. A person must go out and meet it, engage it, wrestle with it, collaborate with it, come to terms with its reality, make it one’s own. They are always part-created, configured, co-created, crafted in active-receptive participation. We will follow Bruno Latour, and call this kind of coming-into-being instauration. The experience of ex nihilo instauration leaves the one who undergoes it an exnihilist. The title might be a bad pun, but it is a holy bad pun, and it is charged with life, and it is the idea most needful in these dark times.

In the first half of the 2020s, Second-Natural was still near the front of the pack, and from time to time it took the lead. Second-natural addresses a long-forgotten goal of design — intuitiveness. Over the last fifteen years, designers have become increasingly enamored with systems thinking, so much so that construction of systems has eclipsed the matter of holism. When designers say “holistic” now, they tend to mean “all-inclusivity” and it usually refers to systems. A system that systematizes every relevant element is, to them, holistic. But the view is third-person perspective. Even subjectivities are understood in third-person. These are objective people, who have things called goals, needs, thoughts, feelings and so on. (This tendency is so pronounced, I have wondered if younger designers even mean the same thing as older designers when they say “empathy”. They seem to believe it a matter of having the same feelings another person has, which of course is impossible, but that is not what empathy does. Empathy does pluralism. Young empathy only states pluralism as a static fact, with each person isolated within one externally unknowable inwardness, and with everyone obligated to believe this and abstain from attempts to bridge these inward states and to see out from them, even if approximately. Empathy, like justice, is successful only when perfectly, indisputably and finally accomplished, and otherwise total failure.) Anyway — what is lost in all this third-person systemic holism is the first-person holism of gestalts.

The result of this is a philosophical shallowness that materially harms design practice, and consequently the world we inhabit. From a system-holism perspective, once an all-inclusive functional system is constructed and all relevant parts are incorporated, the work is done. For designers who still pursue gestalt-wholeness, this is only the cost of entry. The system must also be spontaneously perceived and experienced as a simple whole — a gestalt.

If we neglect this, our world is experienced as utterly overwhelming and our dealings with it exhaust us.

And if too many of us come to see truth as constructed — as factual systems built up into theoretical systems — but these truth systems are not received spontaneously as given, but, instead, intercept givens, and replace them with elaborate explanations — then we lose contact with the world, with our own intuitive sense of things, and truth becomes rote acceptance and conformity of ideology. A population in this alienated state is susceptible to mass manipulation.

Second-Natural proposes a goal of good truth design, that equips us with words and concepts that balance systemic thoroughness, completeness and integrity — systemic-wholeness — with gestalt-wholeness, so we can enworld ourselves intuitively.

Because philosophy is a genre of design whose materials are words, symbols and concepts, whose medium is understanding and whose goal is convergence of gestalt and systemic understanding supporting enworldment.

And this brings us to yet another title Everso. The premise of this work is that we misunderstand subjectivity in a topological way. We think of reality as essentially objective, and subjectivity as essentially emergent from objective processes. Everso everses this relationship — flips it inside-out. All perceived or conceived objects are artifacts of some objectivity, which belongs to some ontology in some enworldment or another. This does not imply metaphysical idealism, but it does imply methodological irreductionism. Reality is given in objectivity, but what may be given is limited by what a subject may receive. And this self-ordering of subjectivity — psychic order — is what I mean by faith. Faiths are changeable — radically so — but they cannot be changed arbitrarily. Faiths are instaurated, and the means of such instaurated changes (or instaurated maintenance of stability) are… philosophy, design and religion. And of these three means, religion is most focused on faith states. But faith is not strength of belief. And faith is not belief without evidence. Faith is that by which truths are understood in the first place, and that by which truth is experienced as true in everyday life. Faith is subjective form.

I will also note that a personal subject and an academic subject are essentially alike, and differ only in material form and scale. Many problems and confusions we run into in design, philosophy and religion are topological category mistakes.

I feel like I have four books in me, but none can be isolated, which I guess is what necessitates multivolume works.

The uncanny craft of parenting

Autobiography, Design, Love, Philosophy

For the last several years, Susan and I have been collaborating on a philosophy of parenting. It is an application of a more general philosophy, and that philosophy is the instauration of an intuitive faith which is the substance of our marriage — the heart of our shared enworldment. (For background see the autobiographical endnote.)

This parenting philosophy (like the general philosophy and all its various applications) is a relationship-centered philosophy.

The job of a parent is the intentional development of a parent-child relationship from one of inequality and dependence to one of equality and independence. Within this relational matrix (the essence of matrix) — within this social womb — an adult personality takes form, in stages, from relative passivity to active partnership in configuring the relationship. Adulthood is achieved when from this process, a new adult emerges who is capable of equality relations with the parent and with others, and of performing the job of parent.

Parenting is a strange craft.

In every craft a crafter collaborates with a material until a work is formed and fully actualized, often, in the process transforming the crafter. But in parenting, what is actualized is a fellow-crafter. Parent craft begets parent craft.

What makes the craft of parenting so challenging, fascinating and unnerving is that the process of crafting iteratively changes its own conditions and inner logic, often radically. It is like a game whose object is to transform the game itself; and with with each move, the game and the rules by which the game is played are reinvented.

Susan gave this philosophy an elegantly self-descriptive name: Raise-to-Relate.

Autobiographical endnote:

“…that philosophy is the instauration of an intuitive faith which is the substance of our marriage — the heart of our shared enworldment.”

This enworlding faith began forming the minute Susan and I met and began fighting about religion.

I was a standard-issue spiritual-but-not-religious liberal materialist with a rebellious curiosity about religious understandings. I grew up in UU milieu. UUs prided themselves on religious tolerance, but that tolerance seemed both incurious and impotent. Even at ten years old, it was obvious to me that these UUs lacked all means of effective intolerance. Wherever they had the power to pull it off, they were more than eager to suppress opposition. The primary locus of this suppressive power, of course, was with youth. Even the faintest trace of intolerance would not be tolerated. And as I got older, beginning with a conclusion that religion is something to tolerate, and never seriously questioning or challenging that premise, struck me as a mark of shallowness, immaturity and boringness.

Susan was a lapsed Catholic on a mission to recover her faith and reenchant her disenchanted world. Growing up, she was a strange child, and was persecuted by scandalized nuns for the heretical mystical rituals she invented and taught on the playground. College shattered many of her naive beliefs about the world, and her religion shattered with it. She wandered into light libertinism for a few years, but quickly became disgusted and demoralized by it, and had begun systematically reforming her religious life to get back in order. Disenchantment is relative, though, and, by my standards, Susan was still so saturated with enchantment that her being hit me like a heroic dose of acid. Her weirdness and her discipline were magically alien.

Within our first half-dozen clashes she turned my own intellectual conscience against my facile utilitarian morality with a simple devastating appeal: “You can certainly argue utilitarianism, but does it account for the intensity of your disgust toward immorality? Do you really care that much about the smooth functioning of the social order? Really?” I was used to butting heads with philosophical opponents, but Susan hit from the heart. She won that round decisively and permanently.

We have been locked in machloket l’shem shamayim ever since.

Whatever I learn is set in our marriage crucible, and whatever I say or make pours from its lip. My philosophy comes from something deeper than philosophy. It can be expressed generally, but it can also be focused into defined domains of activity like design or parenting, and perhaps this is where it becomes most comprehensible.

The Yes on the bridge

Autobiography, Design, Philosophy

My own philosophical development, guided by the problems I intuit and feel most urgently, has led me through but past the regions of reputability established by twentieth century academic philosophy. I carry with me the beautiful and indispensable insights of pragmatism, phenomenology, existentialism and hermeneutics. But in the course of rethinking how I think, why I think also changed. My philosophical goals and ideals changed, and now returning to mere argument, accounting or even understanding as it is commonly understood is impossible. I cannot see it otherwise, now: the goal of philosophy is comprehensive transformation to self and world together. It is a change in attitude, disposition, inclination, sense of relevance that penetrates beneath the content of thought, beneath intellectual methodology, beneath habit, to the society of intuition known as “faith” in given reality, and given truth.

The always-elusive goal of philosophy is to assist radical change in enworldment, from intuited “worse” toward intuited “better”.

When I compare the aims of contemporary academic philosophies with the aims of pre-modern philosophies it is clear that I have arrived at a point of consanguinity with the latter, but having never reversed course, never forgotten what I learned on my way here, having never renounced any of it. I’m newly ancient, pure post- with no pre-. If I am not mistaken, I’ve done some sort of circumnavigation. But being me, I mapped my course very sloppily. My logs were haphazardly kept and provide only vignettes. There is nothing resembling a positioning system, let alone turn-by-turn directions.

I am not one to reject the Enlightenment. With its blessed artificial light we have been able to read twenty-four hours. We’ve pulled a three-century all-nighter, and we have gotten a lot of valuable work done that will continue to benefit us centuries to come. But we are tired. We are starting to nod-off and forget much of the knowledge we’ve crammed and the wisdom we’ve acquired — most of all that precious political wisdom called liberalism.

We are starting to slip into hallucinatory semi-dream and semi-nightmare. Or is it death? It has been so long since we’ve turned out the lights and allowed ourselves to sleep. When have we had darkness sufficient to see a star-filled heaven? We can’t find a place to stand and look out that isn’t covered over by the orange glare of burning gasses in space-time continua. We have shed bright, sharp, enduring, progressing, effective light on the What and How of the natural world, but at the cost of instrumentalist light pollution, which has obscured the Why at the heart of human existence. We have gone nihilist but no longer know how to ask Why. Instead we inquire into chains of causes and purposes that might retroductively account for the void in the core of our being.

Why am I saying this today? What is my purpose? What transformation am I trying to effect here?

With few exceptions, my morning writing has no instrumental purpose, and is free of all technik “in-order-to”. It is an artifact of transformation-in-motion, an expression made for no further reason than itself.

It is pure Why, and provides reason for everything else I do, chosen or compelled.

Years ago, when I’d undergone enough formation-world conversions to have undergone a meta-conversion to creation-world (what I now call “exnihilism”), I asked myself if I would continue philosophizing even with certainty that it had no practical purpose. The answer was whole-hearted, whole-souled, whole-bodied Yes.

This asking happened in a time and place. It was definitely mid-morning. I was definitely cycling over the Bill Kennedy bridge over I-285. I think it was spring, and it was either 2003 or 2004.

Saying Yes, two things happened.

First, I became aware that this impracticality had enormous practical value. It made everything else valuable. Whatever played a role supporting my blessed morning reading, now had a utilitarian purpose I could feel as real. I did it in-order-to do this useless reading. My chain of in-order-to was now charged with felt purpose.

Second, from that point on, my thinking did become useful, even though it didn’t have to be. It became useful for the How and Why design, for focusing design on generating that Why value in our shared world. This Why is perpetually threatened existentially by the nihilism of technicians, technocratic administrators, professional-managerials and other servants of technik — people unable to find positive motivation for action, and so instead motivate themselves solely with avoidance of negatives.

(I would not call this type my enemy. They tend to be the most conscientious, thorough, detail-minded perfectionists. They keep the world running efficiently and that is admirable, necessary and deserving of gratitude. We cannot do without these system builders. But this type drives blindly wherever it is pointed. People like this can serve a vital community or a thriving business, and drive both to success. But it can also be programmed with malevolent ideologies of whatever kind, and it will apply the same virtues to win successes here, too, of the darkest kind. Adolf Eichmann was a very successful man, and any business would have benefitted from his virtues. He judged himself just by the perverse justice to which he subscribed. Had he been American at the time he would have been celebrated today as a hero. If he were alive now, he would serve Progressivism, because, in this time Progressivism is the ideology of the successful and respectable. But this builder will construct with whatever bricks it is given, and it can get along perfectly well without any cornerstone Why. The construction will become increasingly hard to believe and even harder to love. These builders are the intellectual light brigade. Theirs is not to reason Why; theirs is but to do and die, with an intervening comfortable retirement.)

Back to the Yes on the bridge. It gave my life its Why, and provided a Why-grounded instrumental reason for my design work. I would call this my knitbone moment. This is when my taproot found its depth soil, and my leaf growth found its practical horizons: my meaning, my patch of garden.

I don’t know what to call myself. I am both post- and neo-. Post-respectable. Post-philosophical? Neo-mystical? Neo-sketchy?

Post- retains the treasures of the past, and avoids the universal sin of turning back famously committed by Mrs. Lot and Mr. Orpheus. Traversing post- after post- can bring us to the best kind of neo-.

I need to bring together the precise, empirically grounded, carefully reasoned philosophical work I’ve done with the reckless but fruitful intellectual leaps I’ve made.

Years ago, crafting myself design rhetoric to help win designers some space for design work in a technik-dominated environment unable to comprehend our methods, I gave this bridging work a name: “leap-and-creep”.

If designers allow ourselves to learn beyond our own limits — which is what the best design research does — we can gain insights that we can apply practically, long before we can articulate or justify them. We owe our organizations justifications and arguments, but these justifications and arguments should follow intuitive application in prototypes. If an intuition works in practice and shows promise, then a team can get to work accounting for why, and making arguments why it might also work “at scale”.

(This is why we have “premature” ideas in the field. Our conversations with our research participants reshape our general understanding of our problem space in elusive and pre-effable ways. With “new eyes” opened by rapport with our research participants, we catch sight of novel possibilities we were unable to detect prior to the change. We were blind to opportunities that we now very clearly see. I have a name for this, too: precision inspiration. “Rigorous” design technicians who know the correct techniques and recipes try to suppress these ideas. I view them as data. Rapport is the most important understanding we acquire in the field, and our “premature ideas” are often our first expressions of these otherwise inexpressible acquisitions.)

If we are required to justify and account for everything we intuit before we are allowed to try it — if we are required to creep bit by quant-backed bit to our bold innovative leaps — this limits a team to the tiniest and least inspired incremental steps. Anyone who works this way, or worse, imposes this way of working on designers, lacks insight into what design essentially is and does, or has forgotten this insight, lost their own craft, and, to put it bluntly, has sold their soul to technik.

This technical, soulless insightlessness is evident in most reports constructed by professional research teams at most corporations. The reports are stuffed with qualitative and quantitative facts. Some of the facts are formulated in industry-standard “insight” format, but these insights somehow never effect real insight, that is, shift the significance of the fact-set as a whole in some revelatory way. But approximately one-hundred percent of corporate researchers are technicians who see such matters as idle philosophizing, and a total waste of time. So research teams are burdened with the task of mastering enormous bodies of existing research content, and blocked from direct access to the people and realities that inspire new and meaningful interventions. But most large organizations have given up on all goals beyond fixing broken mechanical problems in their soulless offerings portfolio. They are in the chickenshit business, and they can add bullshit later, when the semi-functional boredom heaps are sent to advertising for its shiny coat of bullshit.

…but this is all epic-scale digression.

I have made some crazy philosophical leaps and landed on some sacred ground. I need to creep back so I can map it, pave it, and get some people to join me over here in exnihilism. I have some explaining to do!

Prototype archetype

Autobiography, Design, Letterpress

I was just poking through old posts looking for an old Rorty quote (roughly, “anything can be made to look good or bad by being redescribed…” when came upon an old post from July 2021, where I realized something simple and shocking: language is one prototyping material. And I will add now, it is often not the best one, but it is inexpensive. Talk is cheap. And anyone who sits in meetings all day will tell you, it is inexhaustibly plentiful.

Whenever I think about prototyping, the same image comes to mind.

It is a bad digital image of an improvised artifact someone at IDEO hacked together using whatever materials were sitting around to communicate an idea for a surgical instrument that could be gripped in a new way. They grabbed a cheap plastic clip, a 35mm film canister and a white board marker and hastily taped it together. The thing induced a collective eureka and eventually became a real product used by real surgeons.

In the Rorty / linguistic prototyping post I announced an intention to make a linocut print of the IDEO prototype.

Reading this today, I experienced a moment of smug self-satisfaction, for soon after I’d written this, I radically one-upped myself. It occurred to me that it would be even better to have a sculpture of that archetypal prototype! So I painstakingly tracked down the original materials and reproduced that prototype. And then I mounted the reproduction in a shadow box for display. I will not pretend I was not proud of both the idea and the execution.

My feelings toward this object are bittersweet. For years, when I still belonged at my organization — back when prototyping was central to our thinking methods — the prototype archetype reproduction was on loan to my organization, and sat proudly in our lobby to remind us of who we were and to provoke questions from visitors.

Now that everything we do is reports and words and talking and projections and plans and complicated system models, we are no more designerly and no less corporate than our clients. This symbolic artifact that once served as quirky evidence of who we were became a phony poseur prop, so I recalled it and moved it to a location where it was still true. It sucks to lose a home you helped build, furnish and ensoul. But, you know, this is how things go. This is why I always say: “Bros before cos.” Never trust an organization. Wah, wah, etc., etc. —

But enough crybabying. I have an idea.

I am returning to this idea of printing the prototype.

I am imagining a small card with a lino image of the IDEO prototype, with lead typeset slogans beneath it:

Stop talking. Start making.

or

Prototype it.

or

We think also with our hands and hearts.

or maybe an edition of each of the three.

Wow, I want this to exist.

I want to own it myself, and I want every designer who is still a designer to have one.

This is what I love most about letterpress.

I’m not in it to express myself or to strut around showing what I can do.

I am motivated by pure avarice. I want something to exist that doesn’t yet exist, so I can have it.

And then I become more generally offended at that thing’s nonexistence.

So I make it exist. And then I get to have that thing, and enjoy that thing’s existence.

There is a beautiful, true, dense and compact book that should exist.

It does not exist, and its nonexistence is my responsibility.

Its mysterious absence is increasingly obtrusive and painful.

I feel it like a futural phantom limb.

Social metaphysics

Judaism, Metaphysics, Philosophy, Polycentered design

Well, I took the slack bait and responded to one of those inane “watercooler topics”. I’m posting it only because the term social metaphysics emerged in my response, I think it’s a good coinage.

“Social metaphysics” has a nice ambiguity to it, too. It implies a socially shared metaphysics as well as a metaphysics of the social.

I take it both ways at once, of course, because somewhere in the neighborhood of Beriah, givens get radically polycentered — givens and takers, alike — each instaurating the other in givennesss.

Recovering design

Design, Philosophy

As a designer I care about three things.

I care about making things people care about for many different but interconnected reason. An example, might be a pen with an appearance and tactility that resonates with the role of writing in their life. Or a bicycle that rides beautifully, but also reinforces the rider’s sense of himself as a person and as a cyclist. Or… most recently in my career, the as yet unachieved goal of an organization who provides those who serve it by serving from it a vehicle for their own root service, the opportunity I call knitbone.

I care about coming to transcendent understandings with teammates. These understanding were inconceivable prior to the design research, but actually conceived through the work, thanks to the specific conditions imposed by design: 1) multiple designing subjects, 2) multiple designant subjects, 3) a matter of concern common to all, 4) access to the raw reality, the actual matter, 4) no easy escape from the ordeal, where the path of least resistance is directly into and through the inconceivability.

I care about iterative philosophical refection on design practice, and philosophically guided practice, and the design praxis that develops and the strange, strange design enworldment such reflective practice instaurates. (Instauration is the revelation-creation that craft summons to life. It is what Charles Stein calls configuration.)

Chokhmah obscura

Everso, Kabbalah, Polycentered design

I think of Chokhmah as the infinitesimal pinhole of a camera obscura through which the infinite light of Keter projects into an almost as infinitesimal five-dimensional plane the width, breadth, depth, duration and awareness of the whole cosmogonic unfolding. In this projection within One, each one of us lives and dies as an everted holographic vision of the whole, a subject of Malkhut.

This is a response to a (god)heady passage from Scholem:

Among the symbolical descriptions of the unfolding of God in His revelation, special attention must be given to that which is based on the concept of the mystical Nothing. To the Kabbalist the fundamental fact of creation takes place in God; apart from that he admits of no act of creation worth that name which might be conceived as fundamentally different from the first inmost act and which takes place outside the world of the Sefirot. The creation of the world, that is to say, the creation of something out of nothing, is itself but the external aspect of something which takes place in God Himself. This is also a crisis of the hidden En-Sof who turns from repose to creation, and it is this crisis, creation and Self-Revelation in one, which constitutes the great mystery of theosophy and the crucial point for the understanding of the purpose of theosophical speculation.

The crisis can be pictured as the break-through of the primordial will, but theosophic Kabbalism frequently employs the bolder metaphor of Nothing. The primary start or wrench in which the introspective God is externalized and the light that shines inwardly made visible, this revolution of perspective, transforms En-Sof, the inexpressible fullness, into nothingness. It is this mystical ‘nothingness’ from which all the other stages of God’s gradual unfolding in the Sefirot emanate and which the Kabbalists call the highest Sefirah, or the “supreme crown” [Keter] of Divinity. To use another metaphor, it is the abyss which becomes visible in the gaps of existence. Some Kabbalists who have developed this idea, for instance Rabbi Joseph ben Shalom of Barcelona (1300), maintain that in every transformation of reality, in every change of form, or every time the status of a thing is altered, the abyss of nothingness is crossed and for a fleeting mystical moment becomes visible. Nothing can change without coming into contact with this region of pure absolute Being which the mystics call Nothing. The difficult task of describing the emergence of the other Sefiroth from the womb of the first — the Nothing — is somehow managed with the aid of copious metaphors.

In this connection it may be of interest to examine a mystical jeu de mots which comes very close to the ideas of the Zohar and was already used by Joseph Gikatila. The Hebrew word for nothing, ain has the same consonants as the word for I, ani — and as we have seen, God’s “I” is conceived as the final stage in the emanation of the Sefirot, that stage in which God’s personality, in a simultaneous gathering together of all its previous stages, reveals itself to its own creation. In other words, the passage from ain to ani is symbolical of the transformation by which the Nothing passes through the progressive manifestation of its essence in the Sefiroth, into the I — a dialectical process whose thesis and antithesis begin and end in God: surely a remarkable instance of dialectical thought. Here as elsewhere, mysticism, intent on formulating the paradoxes of religious experience, uses the instrument of dialectics to express its meaning. The Kabbalists are by no means the only witnesses to this affinity between mystical and dialectical thinking.

In the Zohar, as well as in the Hebrew writings of Moses de Leon, the transformation of Nothing into Being is frequently explained by the use of one particular symbol, that of the primordial point. Already the Kabbalists of the Geronese school employed the comparison with the mathematical point, whose motion creates the line and the surface, to illustrate the process of emanation from the “hidden cause.” To this comparison, Moses de Leon adds the symbolism of the point as the centre of the circle. The primordial point from Nothing is the mystical center around which the theogonical processes crystallize. Itself without dimensions and as it were placed between Nothing and Being, the point serves to illustrate what the Kabbalists of the thirteenth century call “the Origin of Being”, that “Beginning” of which the first word of the Bible speaks. The somewhat pompous phrases in which the opening lines of the Zohar’s interpretation of the story of creation describe this emergence of the primordial point — not indeed from the Nothing as remarked in another context, but from the ethereal aura of God — can serve as an example of the mystical imagery of the whole book:

“In the beginning, when the will of the King began to take effect, he engraved signs into the divine aura. A dark flame sprang forth from the innermost recess of the mystery of the Infinite, En-Sof, like a fog which forms out of the formless, enclosed in the ring of this aura, neither white nor black, neither red nor green, and of no color whatever. But when this flame began to assume size and extension it produced radiant colors. For in the innermost center of the flame a well sprang forth from which flames poured upon everything below, hidden in the mysterious secrets of En-Sof. The well broke through, and yet did not entirely break through, the ethereal aura which surrounded it. It was entirely unrecognizable until under the impact of its break-through a hidden supernal point shone forth. Beyond this point nothing may be known or understood, and therefore it is called Reshit, that is ‘Beginning’, the first word of creation”

By the Zohar, as by the majority of the other Kabbalistic writers, this primordial point is identified with the wisdom of God, Chokhmah. God’s wisdom represents the ideal thought of Creation, conceived as the ideal point which itself springs from the impulse of the abysmal will. The author extends the comparison by likening it to the mystical seed which is sown into Creation, the point of comparison apparently being not only the subtlety of both but also the fact that in either the possibilities of further being are potentially, though as yet invisibly, existent.

Beyond the “servicemaster”

Design

For the last several months I have convinced myself more and more completely that service system development should follow the example of software system development, and formally assign a trio of roles responsible for the desirability, feasibility and viability of what is being developed.

In software system development, the product trio is:

  • The UX designer is responsible for desirability, that is, everything concerning user adoption of what is being developed. If we build it, will people adopt it?
  • The software engineer is responsible for feasibility, that is, ensuring that whatever is being proposed is developed within given constraints. Given what we have to work with, can we build it?
  • The product manager is responsible for viability, that is, for ensuring that the system once built and adopted by users will help the organization flourish. If we build it within constraints, and people adopt it, will it serve the organization’s strategic goals?

Of course, teams are collaborative, so they must, in IDEO’s parlance, be T-shaped. Each team member must have a general understanding of design, engineering and business sufficient to support effective collaboration. But each brings a depth of understanding in their specialty and their domain of responsibility.

Given that service systems are at least as complex as software systems – plus additional layers of organizational and logistical complication – it seems self-evident that assigning responsibility for ensuring the desirability, feasibility and viability of a service to one role guarantees that something, and likely much more than something, will be lost.

Asking one designer to specialize in and bear responsibility for all three shows a failure to appreciate either the complexity of services or of human limits. A service designer who attempted it would have to work 120 hour weeks to juggle all three of these responsibilities, or 80 hours to juggle just two of the three. And ask any designer which of the three always gets dropped first.

In service system development the service trio should be:

  • The service designer is responsible for desirability, that is, everything concerning service actor participation in the service being developed. If we activate this service, will all service actors willingly participate in ways that support it?
  • The service system engineer is responsible for feasibility, that is, ensuring that the service is operationalized within given constraints. Given the organization and its conditions enabling and constraining it, can we activate, maintain and evolve it?
  • The service system manager is responsible for viability, that is, for ensuring that the service once activated by participation of service actors will help the organization that delivers this service flourish. If we activate it within constraints, and service actors participate as intended, will it serve the organization’s strategy?

Until we stop reducing the vast and complex domain of service system development to “service design,” the field will remain stuck in the age of the webmaster. Remember that guy? The webmaster was the guy in headquarters’ basement who figured out what an organization’s presence should be on the Information Superhighway, and then sort of hacked it all together. He was an overworked jack of all trades and master of none, especially not the design part.

Today what we call “service designer” really should be called “servicemaster” in honor of our pre-UX jack-of-all-trades predecessor.

The big hurdle, of course, is that the closest thing we have to each of these defined roles is still the overstretched, overburdened service designer. It is hard to staff roles with no existing practitioners, but my hope is that defining these disciplines might inspire enterprising, restless operations folks, process or industrial engineering types, CX professionals, or random multitalented domain-blenders to come along and fill these brand new, unclaimed shoes.

Dang. This is funny. I might post this on LinkedIn, under the disclaimer that this is my own opinion and not the opinion of my employer.

Alchemical design

Design, Esoterism

Craft is material dialogue. Dialogue is conversation craft. Alchemy is the craft of crafts.

First, I intuited it implicitly in R. J. Bernstein and Gadamer. Later, I found it stated directly in Buber: our best access to divine being is through dialogue with others.

Dialogue presumes two things: alterity and a possibility of transformative understanding.

Dialogue requires two things: shared good faith to arrive at understanding and shared material to serve as the medium for this understanding.

In alchemy not just any material will do.

The material must be real enough to perform its configurative, transformative task.

In alchemy, material is dissolved, freed from form, cleansed of ideal dross, and rendered pure matter (hyle), pregnant with myriad reformative possibility.

In alchemy, soul is dissolved, freed from form, cleansed of accidental dross, and rendered pure spirit, pregnant with myriad reformative possibility.

In alchemy, fragmentary soul and material are dissolved and purified and passed through the narrow neck of the alembic into the chamber to combine and unite, and unified are then drawn back through the neck to recrystallize together, refaithed, rematerialized, reenworlded. New artifact, new artifex, new chamber.

This is why designers go to the rough ground of reality.

It is only here we find matter-rich materials that can support radical new understanding. What gets passed along in organizational media is precisely form, not matter. The form of the medium filters whatever data it cannot convey. The data that survives transmission is too anemic to support anything but compulsive rethinking of old thoughts.

It is the media, the material forms, the forms of understanding, the very soul-form of the organization that is in play in radical design.

Radical design is alchemy.

This sacrifice of form in radical design must be performed in the faith that resouling and reenworlding will redeem the sacrifice.

Subject and object shed form together in order to be reclothed, refurnished, rehoused, reenvironed together, all at once, in new enworldment.

This is the artifice of design.

Design is a craft requiring much technique, but much more than technique.

Mere technicians can only construct systems of unnatural artificiality. They are limited to assembling preformed components. They can build only structures the components afford. But today, the problem is the form of the components. This is why the design work of design technicians is sterile and entirely uninspiring, which is good enough in a joyless world that no longer desires or expects anything beyond fixed function.

The higher goal of design is second-natural artifice that summons whole worlds teeming with inconceivable new beings and meanings.

Alchemy might have preceded modern science, but modern science refused the very cornerstone of alchemy: its transformative Why.

This rejection of Why, first methodological, then later metaphysical, is the nihilism concealed in the heart of technik, which knows only the questions What and How, and hears that implicit question behind every truth. When someone asks “why?” the ear of technik hears a prescriptive “in order to what?” or a descriptive “how did this occur?”

Design is alchemy’s true heir, but to receive its inheritance it must reject the rejection of technicity.

Design must restore the Why to technik’s What-How so the technocratic world of techno-scientific engineering and management can answer to a higher Ought and serve our human purpose instead of enslaving humankind to its Whyless systems.

Not only are we allowed to do this, we must do what we Ought.

Protoconsultant Chuang Tzu

Design, Taoism

Solid consulting advice from Chuang Tzu, twenty-three centuries before the invention of consulting:

Yen Hui went to see Confucius and asked permission to take a trip.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to Wei.”

“What will you do there?”

“I have heard that the ruler of Wei is very young. He acts in an independent manner, thinks little of how he rules his state, and fails to see his faults. It is nothing to him to lead his people into peril, and his dead are reckoned by swampfuls like so much grass. His people have nowhere to turn. I have heard you say, Master, ‘Leave the state that is well ordered and go to the state in chaos! At the doctor’s gate are many sick men.’ I want to use these words as my standard, in hopes that I can restore his state to health.”

“Ah,” said Confucius, “you will probably go and get yourself executed, that’s all. The Way doesn’t want things mixed in with it. When it becomes a mixture, it becomes many ways; with many ways, there is a lot of bustle; and where there is a lot of bustle, there is trouble — trouble that has no remedy! The Perfect Man of ancient times made sure that he had it in himself before he tried to give it to others. When you’re not even sure what you’ve got in yourself, how do you have time to bother about what some tyrant is doing?

“Do you know what it is that destroys virtue, and where wisdom comes from? Virtue is destroyed by fame, and wisdom comes out of wrangling. Fame is something to beat people down with, and wisdom is a device for wrangling. Both are evil weapons — not the sort of thing to bring you success. Though your virtue may be great and your good faith unassailable, if you do not understand men’s spirits, though your fame may be wide and you do not strive with others, if you do not understand men’s minds, but instead appear before a tyrant and force him to listen to sermons on benevolence and righteousness, measures and standards — this is simply using other men’s bad points to parade your own excellence. You will be called a plaguer of others. He who plagues others will be plagued in turn. You will probably be plagued by this man.

“And suppose he is the kind who actually delights in worthy men and hates the unworthy — then why does he need you to try to make him any different? You had best keep your advice to yourself! Kings and dukes always lord it over others and fight to win the argument. You will find your eyes growing dazed, your color changing, your mouth working to invent excuses, your attitude becoming more and more humble, until in your mind you end by supporting him. This is to pile fire on fire, to add water to water, and is called ‘increasing the excessive.’ If you give in at the beginning, there is no place to stop. Since your fervent advice is almost certain not to be believed, you are bound to die if you come into the presence of a tyrant.

“In ancient times Chieh put Kuan Lung-feng to death and Chou put Prince Pi Kan to death. Both Kuan Lung-feng and Prince Pi Kan were scrupulous in their conduct, bent down to comfort and aid the common people, and used their positions as ministers to oppose their superiors. Therefore their rulers, Chieh and Chou, utilized their scrupulous conduct as a means to trap them, for they were too fond of good fame. In ancient times Yao attacked Ts’ung-chih and Hsu-ao, and Yu attacked Yu-hu, and these states were left empty and unpeopled, their rulers cut down. It was because they employed their armies constantly and never ceased their search for gain. All were seekers of fame or gain — have you alone not heard of them? Even the sages cannot cope with men who are after fame or gain, much less a person like you!

“However, you must have some plan in mind. Come, tell me what it is.”

Yen Hui said, “If I am grave and empty-hearted, diligent and of one mind, won’t that do?”

“Goodness, how could that do? You may put on a fine outward show and seem very impressive, but you can’t avoid having an uncertain look on your face, any more than an ordinary man can. And then you try to gauge this man’s feelings and seek to influence his mind. But with him, what is called ‘the virtue that advances a little each day’ would not succeed, much less a great display of virtue! He will stick fast to his position and never be converted. Though he may make outward signs of agreement, inwardly he will not give it a thought! How could such an approach succeed?”

“Well then, suppose I am inwardly direct, outwardly compliant, and do my work through the examples of antiquity? By being inwardly direct, I can be the companion of Heaven. Being a companion of Heaven, I know that the Son of Heaven and I are equally the sons of Heaven. Then why would I use my words to try to get men to praise me, or try to get them not to praise me? A man like this, people call The Child. This is what I mean by being a companion of Heaven.

“By being outwardly compliant, I can be a companion of men. Lifting up the tablet, kneeling, bowing, crouching down — this is the etiquette of a minister. Everybody does it, so why shouldn’t I? If I do what other people do, they can hardly criticize me. This is what I mean by being a companion of men.

“By doing my work through the examples of antiquity, I can be the companion of ancient times. Though my words may in fact be lessons and reproaches, they belong to ancient times and not to me. In this way, though I may be blunt, I cannot he blamed. This is what I mean by being a companion of antiquity. If I go about it in this way, will it do?”

Confucius said, “Goodness, how could that do? You have too many policies and plans and you haven’t seen what is needed. You will probably get off without incurring any blame, yes. But that will be as far as it goes. How do you think you can actually convert him? You are still making the mind your teacher!”

Yen Hui said, “I have nothing more to offer. May I ask the proper way?”

“You must fast!” said Confucius. “I will tell you what that means. Do you think it is easy to do anything while you have {a mind}? If you do, Bright Heaven will not sanction you.”

Yen Hui said, “My family is poor. I haven’t drunk wine or eaten any strong foods for several months. So can I be considered as having fasted?”

“That is the fasting one does before a sacrifice, not the fasting of the mind.”

“May I ask what the fasting of the mind is?”

Confucius said, “Make your will one! Don’t listen with your ears, listen with your mind. No, don’t listen with your mind, but listen with your spirit. Listening stops with the ears, the mind stops with recognition, but spirit is empty and waits on all things. The Way gathers in emptiness alone. Emptiness is the fasting of the mind.”

Yen Hui said, “Before I heard this, I was certain that I was Hui. But now that I have heard it, there is no more Hui. Can this be called emptiness?”

“That’s all there is to it,” said Confucius. “Now I will tell you. You may go and play in his bird cage, but never be moved by fame. If he listens, then sing; if not, keep still. Have no gate, no opening, but make oneness your house and live with what cannot be avoided. Then you will be close to success.”