Personal introduction
There are many possible arguments the author of a chapter on design research might make, other than the one I chose to make here. And I have no doubt that what I have written will not sit comfortably or properly, in the minds of some readers. I can imagine the instantly dismissive tone of a certain type of response, precisely the sort of response I am trying to argue against. None of this makes my account wrong: it merely makes it contentious. It may be seen as contentious in what it includes, but also, and perhaps more so, in what and who it does not mention. The difficulty in any attempt to provide a position â or a review â is to find a line and then to hang a convincing and interesting story on it. In finding that line, any author will accommodate many views, but inevitably not all, and will feature the work of some, but not most, authorities. A further difficulty is not to drown the narrative of the story in reference, while yet showing the story is justifiable. And it is also to make space to include your own view, as author, without overplaying it. The real test of a text like this is, I believe, whether the argument helps you (the reader, but the author also) better to understand, and to act better. This is a reader's judgement: like a placebo, the question is not what design research âreallyâ is, but how this account helps readers themselves understand and go forward.
Design
Generally, we do not learn all that much about the current use of words from their etymology, yet it is sometimes helpful and revealing to acknowledge origins.
The word design is full of ambiguity. It first came into English from the Italian (via French) around 1500, according to CĂŽrte-Real (2010), although the etymology goes back to Latin. CĂŽrte-Real gives two sources:
- disignare, meaning to draw (hence the identification of designing with drawing)
- designare, meaning to designate
We should notice that both sources are verbs: that is, they are concerned with acting rather than the outcome of acting. As we will discover later, the slippage of the word design to be treated as a noun as well as, and often in preference to, a verb has a considerable influence on the shape of design research.
It is not as though the English speaking world did not have design and designers before these modified Latin words were imported and compounded. Nor are words used in other Germanic European languages for a cognate activity consistent with English: the Dutch âvormgevingâ is literally âform givingâ while the German âGestaltungâ also refers to âformingâ, the making of a pattern or a whole. But it seems we did not use a special term to distinguish the activity we now call designing before 1500, except for musical designing (composing â which, to my mind, suggests the use of pre-defined units) and words relating to architecture. As for the word architect, its Ancient Greek origin is made up of two parts:
- arkhi-, meaning chief
- tektoÂŻn, meaning builder
Although architect refers to building (i.e. constructing), it does not necessarily refer to what we now call buildings. What is considered the first (western) book on design is by Marcus Vitruvius Pollio (born c. 80â70 bce, died after c. 15 bce, generally referred to as Vitruvius). He was the creator of the idealised Vitruvian man, famously drawn by Leonardo, and the author of what is still the best definition of architecture â as constituted of three equal parts: well-made, functional and delightful. His book was published around 15 bce as âDe Architectura libri decemâ (Ten Books on Architecture), containing instructions on making Water Mills, Clocks, Town Planning, Temples, Civic Buildings and Aquaducts (amongst others). It was not limited to what we would nowadays think of as architecture or even building(s): and tektoÂŻn itself comes from the Greek word technĂ©, meaning doing/making â from which we get our word and concept technology. Vitruvius's book was, in effect, what we might think of as a design manual. I use the verb, design, to indicate what I hold is the activity central to all designers, including architects.
Design, as a subject in its own right, appears during the Industrial Revolution, usually dated in the UK (where it originated) between roughly 1760 and 1840. (Pye (1999) gives a good account, and the British Broadcasting Corporation's 2009 TV series âThe Genius of Designâ is convincing.) The ability to produce, by machine, multiples of large and expensive objects greatly outside human skill and scale meant there was a need to be able to construct these objects in the mind, before committing machines (and their operators) to production. Early machines were already programmable: the Jacquard loom was programmed by punch cards later used in the early days of computer programming (when they were called Hollerith cards) and still used to control silk spinning and weaving machines in China. From this moment, we can distinguish industrial design from architecture â yet the centre of each discipline is, I would argue (in the absence of the verb to architect), the same; and the verb to design, describing this shared central act, is relevant to both fields and, I believe, to all designing.
Machines are tended by mechanics and engineers. Indeed, much of what Vitruvius described as architecture would now be thought of as (civil) engineering. In some schools, architects are trained as civil engineers, later adding design as a sort of top-up. This engineering approach is rather different to the approach of those who come from what in the UK we traditionally think of as a design education (see Archer, 2005) as I sketch in the next paragraph; an important difference when it comes to research that reflects back to early days of formal design education.
In the UK, until recently, art and design1 education â as opposed to apprenticeship â was taught in vocational colleges such as those set up by William Morris and others. These colleges, often called Working Men's Institutes, eventually became technical and art colleges and polytechnics which, in the UK version, were to be colleges of further education based in the local community and concerned with vocational training. In contrast, universities were based in academic research. Engineers were generally taught at universities (though mechanics were taught at vocational schools). Architects were taught at either: though the University of Oxford still rejects architecture as a vocational, non-academic subject. Design was taught at vocational colleges and is still only slowly making inroads in many older universities. Thus, while design (except where married to engineering) and architecture are rejected as academic studies by the University of Oxfo...