Book Review

Toothpicks & Logos Design in Everyday Life

by John Heskett
Oxford University Press
New York/Oxford
CAN $29.95

Reviewed by Gerry van Blokland

Cars & Commodes, AT&T & ATMs or Compaq & Cutlery — any of these combinations could have been used as alternate titles for this book. The title Toothpicks & Logos is meant to illustrate that two seemingly unrelated things are in fact bound through a process of design.

John Heskett, a professor and author of other books including Industrial Design, Design in Germany 1870–1918 and Philips: A Study of the Corporate Management of Design, argues that design is often considered to be trivial or superficial. According to Heskett, this is so because design is ill-defined and misunderstood, even by designers. Partially because of this misunderstanding, he feels that too much design talent and expertise is wasted creating goods for consumers. Designers should be trying to solve the world’s problems, argues Heskett, rather than finding ways of generating more profit for the companies they work for. Heskett uses the example of two designers in Chile who created packaging for light bulbs that can be used as a lampshade instead of being thrown away. The design reduces waste and provides an alternative to a bare bulb for those who cannot afford a proper lampshade. He argues that these small, often inexpensive innovations can greatly improve the quality of life.

At the root of the confusion surrounding the practice of design is the word itself, which can be used as both a noun and a verb. "Design is to design a design to produce a design" is a grammatically correct, yet utterly meaningless, sentence. Because of this hazy understanding of what the term design implies, it is used haphazardly. Why hair design? Why not hair architecture or hair engineering? In order to clear up this confusion and misunderstanding the author attempts to explain just what design is by detailing its historical evolution, from cavemen to the iMac, and by defining the difference between utility and significance.

Heskett also explains how the significance of an object can change by citing the example of the Volkswagen Beetle. Today, the Beetle brings to mind the idealism of the sixties; however, it was originally developed on the direct orders of Adolf Hitler and promoted as an icon of the achievements of the Nazi Party.

The author discusses how objects are often put to use in ways not originally intended by their designers. A good demonstration of this is the VCR; originally designed to play pre-recorded tapes, it was widely adapted by users to record programs for viewing at a more convenient time.

Heskett goes on to describe how design affects communications, environments, identities and systems, and identifies the three major contexts he believes have the strongest influence on contemporary design: designers and their own self-regulating bodies, the companies that they work for, and government. He gives examples of governments that have met with success by adopting efficient design as a fundamental policy. Japan, after World War II, turned its economy toward producing quality products and has, as a result, become a world leader, both economically and in quality of life for its citizens.

Heskett makes his strongest point by concluding that only when the subject of design is seriously studied and debated will it truly be of service to mankind. He argues that the general public should become more involved in the design process. People should insist on better-designed products and services and not simply accept what is given to them.

Behind-the-scenes anecdotes regarding design history and how the design process works are noteworthy. The author is successful in providing an accurate concept of what constitutes the subject of design but not at a specific level. Upon completion of this book, readers will better understand the origins of design but not the difference between, say, a graphic designer and an industrial designer. While this book will be of interest to people in the design community and the serious, scholarly tone may elicit academic discussion, it is unlikely to appeal to mainstream readers unless their job title somehow involves the word design.

Gerry van Blokland is an Ottawa-based graphic designer who wants to remind you that the Le Car was originally developed on the direct orders of some French guy and promoted as an icon of France’s achievements in silliness.