Design Matters

Rifle Target  

We recently designated eight ThinkPad laptops for use in field and vehicle semi-ruggedized computing environments such as in public safety, utilities, construction and the military. The ThinkPad X200, X301, X200s, X200 Tablet, T400, T500, R400 and SL300 laptops meet a barrage of military specifications tests and are enhanced with specially-designed durability features such as an air-bag like protection system and a roll cage in certain models. Because field computing requires excellent screen viewability, we also added a new optional 680-nit high brightness panel to its most popular laptop, the ThinkPad T400 laptop.

Baked, battered, blistered and blown with sand, Lenovo put the lineup of  ThinkPad laptops through the gauntlet to pass a significant number of specifications for military-grade computing. We stopped just short of shooting one with a M16. Here is what the ThinkPad’s were subjected to:

Low Pressure – Tests operation at 15,000 feet
Humidity – Cycles 95 percent humidity through the environment
Vibration (operational and non-operational) – Jostles and jolts the laptops to make sure they can withstand shocks
High Temperature – Simulates high heat conditions by baking the laptop up to 140 degrees
Low Temperature – Tests operation at minus 4 degrees
Temperature Shock – Fluctuates between minus 4 and up to 140 degrees to test operation
Dust – Blows dust for an extended amount of time

It’s reassuring to know just how rugged a ThinkPad really is.

David Hill 

ThinkCentre Wordless Set Up Poster

We used to have a very wordy set up instruction booklet and related poster that shipped with every desktop computer we manufactured. They were translated into a zillion different languages based on what country or geography they were headed to.  Although they were useful aids in setting up your computer,  they added a great deal of cost and complexity to our business.  At one point we were asked to remove them in order to save cost.  Rather than risk customer satisfaction issues, I countered the proposal with a plan to create a single poster that could be used in any country. Obviously this meant that the poster needed to be wordless. Not as easy at it may seem, but my design team rose to the challenge with their usual creative spirit.

We studied many alternatives concepts and graphic approaches to solve the problem. Have you ever tried to develop a wordless diagram to explain such spell binding material as plugging in your modem correctly?   Not exactly going to be the talk of the neighborhood book club or on the best seller list this month,  but it does matter. We tested the poster ideas with real users and refined the designs over and over until we were convinced it worked. In the end what we developed was a visual language or sorts that could be replicated across a entire family of posters. As mundane as this may seem,  it was a very interesting problem to solve. Many designers have struggled with similar problems for years. Cartoonists are perhaps the masters of this craft.

I once purchased a vacuum cleaner that required assembly, what doesn’t anymore, with some of the worst instructions ever created. For whatever reason I followed the directions  as best I could. I’ve been told men generally never read them. They were scattered throughout the packaging in multiple one page wonders with no clear overall assembly process. Fumbling through sealed bags of  oddly shaped plastic parts, wheels, cords and brushes,  I suddenly found myself with the handle ceremoniously snapped into place with very clever and positive sounding “one way” molded plastic snaps. Translation: permanent. Unfortunately the  scrap of paper  in the next bag containing the cord assembly alerted me that the cord must be threaded through the handle prior to assembly. Great.  I had to fashion a crude tool out of  a yardstick, duct tape,  and an oddly bent coat hanger to defeat the  ”vacuum cleaner of many names” and the permanent snaps.  Nice user experience.

I just read, although there are no words, a great little book written by Nigel Holmes on this exact topic. Nigel was the graphics director for Time magazine for many years. His book aptly titled, Wordless Diagrams, is a marvelous collection of  artful diagrams describing everything from how to tie a scarf to the proper method for milking  a jersey cow. The book is both entertaining and beautifully designed. I recommend that anyone interested in the topic of information design buy the book. Hopefully you will never have one of thos negative eureka moments assembling one of our computers. 

David Hill

Where do designers come from?  The German Bauhaus was certainly one of the pioneers of higher design education. Core to the Bauhaus movement were the linkages made between art, craft and technology.  Always made sense to me. Vorkurs (“initial” or “preliminary course”) was taught as the foundation; this is the modern day “Basic Design” curriculum that has become one of the key foundations offered in architectural and design schools across the globe. Interestingly, there was no teaching of history in the Bauhaus school because everything was supposed to be designed and created according to basic principles rather than by following historical precedent. When I went to design school, at the University of Kansas,  much of the basic design studies were patterned after the Bauhaus education model. Some of my faculty members  had advanced design degrees from The Institute of Design at IIT , often called the “New Bauhaus”,  in the United States. The Bauhaus has truly had lasting impact on design education. 

Today there are plenty of design schools out there with wonderful facilities, amazing tools, great curriculums and talented faculty members; but being a professional designer is more than having a degree. If all it took was a degree in design the number of practicing designers would multiply overnight by an astronomical exponent. Many of the people I went to design school with have never really worked directly in the field. How can this be? They completed the degree checklist as required. My opinion has always been that being a designer is part of your DNA. It’s in your blood. You are either born with it or not. The great seminal designer Paul Rand  was once asked at a panel discussion why he chose to be a designer. “I didn’t choose. God chose,” was his reply. Sure design school can help, it certainly did for me, but it is not the only ingredient. Formal design education is not so different from honing an edge on a well tempered blade.  

I had the opportunity to discuss this with Richard Sapper when he was in town a few weeks ago. He talked about his own education and how it led him into the design field. For those of you who do not know,  Richard does not have a degree in industrial design.  He studied philosophy, anatomy, graphics, and engineering. He ultimately obtained a degree in economics from the University of Munich. He cleverly used a senior thesis on the value of industrial design to get his first job with the styling studio of Mercedes.  When probed about how his own approach to teaching future designers, he taught for several years in Germany and Switzerland,  he reiterated a familiar theme. Design education is about creating a environment where ideas flourish, not about telling someone how to do it. He stated that he rarely, if ever, made suggestions on how to solve a design problem to his own students. He too is convinced that you are just born with it. His father was a painter. Surprised?

Prescott Whitfield hard at work in his shop circa 1925

I grew up in an environment where creativity was highly encouraged. I always had tools, materials, and  plenty of  interest in making or refining things. I made things from cardboard, metal, paper, wood, nearly anything I could get my hands on. My dad was always looking for his misplaced tools in the cluttered stacks of my unfinished projects. Ideas were always celebrated and rarely criticized, but it wasn’t just an environment. Perhaps more importantly,  my ancestors made things. My grandfather Prescott for instance made things from wood, mostly boats. Boats you could actually sail and model boats you could only dream of sailing. They were beautiful highly detailed objects that still captivate my interest. I only wish I owned more of the models he built and had a shop with  half as much character as his . The photo above was taken in his cellar/workshop in the mid 1920’s.  I’m certain that my core interest and aptitude in design and how things work was handed down through generations. It’s a legacy thing. Thanks to the University of Kansas and their School of Fine Arts for honing the edge, but the basic tools came with the package.  

David Hill 

ThinkPad Signal Illuminates the Sky

Batman is an interesting fictional character to me. Sometimes people forget that he is just a regular guy, no parents from a different planet, no experimental radiation accidents, no super powers. Batman is all business. He is a man who focuses his intelligence on a single cause, most would simply call him a vigilante.  Not to be outdone by super criminals, he is always armed with a wide array of advanced technology and crime fighting gear. The whole utility belt thing and other such Bat classics as the Batmobile, Batarang, and my personal favorite the Batcycle continue to delight fans.

I watched a great Batman movie last weekend and immediately drew a connection between the caped crusader and ThinkPad. I am certain that ThinkPad would be his computer of choice. All business, mysterious, clever features, and of course the color is certainly on brand. Batman would never be caught with a lesser computer. Batman isn’t about to choose style over substance.  I guess we can thank the Batman creator Bob Kane for that.

I can easily imagine him in the Batcave poised in front of his ThinkPad intently pouring over data about his archnemesis the Joker’s historical crime patterns or the Riddler’s latest brain teaser. I bet those two have goofy looking computers. Atomic batteries to power, turbines to speed….

David Hill