In the last decade, we have seen the nature of consumerism transform radically. Historically, our purchases have been motivated by attributes such as price point, quality, functionality, and brand loyalty, but, in the last 10 years, a new factor has exerted its influence on our spending habits: ethics. Concern for what goes into a product, where it is made and by whom, and how those people are treated has led consumers to increasingly use their dollars like votes, endorsing companies whose ethos align most closely with their own. This new breed of consumer–often dubbed a “citizen consumer”–has, in turn, spawned a cross-industry shift toward conscientious business. Quite simply, what it means to “give the customer what they want” is no longer limited to the product itself, because the customer also wants fair wages for workers, local production, reduced environmental impact, and so on. They want a better product, but not at the expense of a better world.
For designers, the products they create may not always bear the obvious earmarks of ethics; there’s no “certified organic” or “LEED certification” for the way a product takes shape. But that doesn’t mean that product design fails to communicate the ethical motivations of its designer. At a TED Conference talk in February 2008, designer and sustainability advocate Yves Behar remarked that it’s “the values we put into the project that ultimately create the greater value.” To put it another way, the ethics of the designer are inscribed in the product itself, making it abundantly visible to consumers whether the designer was motivated by use value or potential economic value.
For instance, imagine a new mobile device that is beautiful to look at, but cumbersome in a user’s hand. It’s loaded with cutting edge widgets that are blindingly flashy–in fact, so flashy that they are exhausting to use. Now imagine a second mobile device. This one has a less prepossessing design, but everything about it–its shape, its weight–feels natural when it’s held by a user. This second device is only capable of doing a few things, but they’re the most essential and they’re done exceptionally well. Clearly, in the first instance, the product is motivated by potential economic value. The design is not well suited for its intended purpose–to be used by people. Instead, it aspires to dazzle consumers with its novelty, figuring that initial sales will make up for the fact that it will be relegated to the dustbin of history. By contrast, the second device reveals a designer whose values are attuned to how the product is actually used. This product may ultimately succeed in the marketplace, but, if it does, it’s because its designer attempted to create value in the lives of its users first.
In his book “Finite and Infinite Games,” religious scholar James P. Carse examines life’s actions, which he describes as games that are either finite or infinite. To offer a simplified version of these two categories, finite games anticipate an end and are played to be won, while infinite games are played in order to continue the play, to keep the game alive. While the scope of Carse’s discussion is broad and deeply philosophical, these two terms are worth considering in relation to design and ethics. In the paragraph above, the example of the first mobile device is an instance of what could be described as “finite design.” It is a design that strives for victory (in the marketplace), even though such a victory is finite (the product’s shelf life is extremely limited). Behind finite design is greed and power, values that privilege personal triumph at the exclusion of others. On the other hand, the second device used in the example illustrates “infinite design.” Here, the designer creates the product to simply be used, preferably by many, and, in the future, as the basis of even better designs. Behind infinite design are values such as surprise, delight, and simplicity. According to Carse, “surprise in infinite play is the triumph of the future over the past.” To put it another way, a designer with the capacity to be surprised is open to new ideas and perspectives and anticipates that new solutions and strategies will emerge, because “winning” isn’t the goal, “progress” is.
If we can choose sides, we like to think we’re a group of infinite designers, who believe that the bygone victories of finite designers weren’t really victories at all, but steps along a continuous path. We think that infinite design is our industry’s version of “sustainability”: by designing with the future in mind, we’re supporting the continued growth and advancement of civilization. That’s our ethical commitment to the products we design, the customers who use them, and the culture we’re a part of. In that sense, you might call us “citizen designers.”