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Small Things Considered: Why There Is No Perfect Design

2010-03-05 
基本信息·出版社:Random House USA Inc ·页码:304 页 ·出版日期:2004年09月 ·ISBN:1400032938 ·条形码:9781400032938 ·装帧:平装 ·正文语种 ...
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 Small Things Considered: Why There Is No Perfect Design


基本信息·出版社:Random House USA Inc
·页码:304 页
·出版日期:2004年09月
·ISBN:1400032938
·条形码:9781400032938
·装帧:平装
·正文语种:英语
·外文书名:值得注意的小事

内容简介 Why has the durable paper shopping bag been largely replaced by its flimsy plastic counterpart? What circuitous chain of improvements led to such innovations as the automobile cup holder and the swiveling vegetable peeler? With the same relentless curiosity and lucid, witty prose he brought to his earlier books, Henry Petroski looks at some of our most familiar objects and reveals that they are, in fact, works in progress. For there can never be an end to the quest for the perfect design.

To illustrate his thesis, Petroski tells the story of the paper drinking cup, which owes its popularity to the discovery that water glasses could carry germs. He pays tribute to the little plastic tripod that keeps pizza from sticking to the box and analyzes the numerical layouts of telephones and handheld calculators. Small Things Considered is Petroski at his most trenchant and provocative, casting his eye not only on everyday artifacts but on their users as well.
作者简介 Henry Petroski is the Aleksandar S. Vesic Professor of Civil Engineering and a professor of history at Duke University. He is the author of ten previous books.
编辑推荐 From Publishers Weekly
"Design can be easy and difficult at the same time, but in the end, it is mostly difficult." So writes engineering professor Petroski (The Evolution of Useful Things, etc.) in his latest effort, a wide-ranging exploration of the history and design of the everyday technologies like supermarket aisles and telephone keypads that are practically invisible in their ubiquity. Petroski emphasizes that these "small things" aren't in fact the results of a smooth and simple design process, but are rather the products of a constellation of oft-conflicting constraints, frequently with unintended consequences (consider the recently redesigned, fat-handled toothbrushes that, while more ergonomic, have rendered millions of traditional toothbrush holders useless). The book meanders through this world of design, less concerned with making a direct argument than with reveling in the complexities of the ever-changing design of everyday things, such as Brita water pitchers and freeway tollbooths. The writing is engaging and approachable, and reading the book feels like sitting down for a long chat with that favorite uncle who seems to know a bit about everything and never hesitates to throw in his own take on matters. Petroski's histories of, among others, paper cups and duct tape are fascinating, and this book leaves us a little more conscious of the never-ending design process of our modern world. 22 photos.
Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information, Inc. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

From Scientific American
Early-19th-century American steam engines were less fuel-efficient and more dangerous than their late-18th-century British counterparts. These details don't surprise most first-year engineering students. After all, didn't American technology lag Britain's for many years? They are often taken aback, however, to discover that these faults derived partly from explicit choices of American steam engineers. Historian George Basalla suggested in his 1988 book The Evolution of Technology (Cambridge University Press) that such choices can be understood as adaptations to the resource-rich and skills-poor American environment, in which heavy fuel consumption mattered less than the ease of design, construction and maintenance afforded by high-pressure operation. (These higher-pressure engines could also run at greater speeds, an important feature on a larger landmass.) More generally, like the Y2K problem, what later generations saw as a design flaw can be most richly seen as the result of a designer's attempt to work within the technological boundary conditions of a given time and place. In Small Things Considered, Henry Petroski's approach to the question of "why there is no perfect design" is less evolutionary than Basalla's and reflects his own experience as a practicing engineer and a keen observer of the made world and of how people live in it. But like Basalla, Petroski continually emphasizes that all made things, both physical and social, are designed, whether consciously or unconsciously, and that anyone designing anything must work within a set of physical and social constraints. As he writes, in considering the design of chairs, "All designs must involve trade-offs, if not in materials, then in function; if not in cost, then in fashion; if not in quality, then in proportion; if not in size, then in shape; if not in this, then in that." The design process is thus often labyrinthine, and successive compromises in response to specific constraints close off and open up different choice points later in the process. Indeed, even as designers "perfect" their creations, they usually both improve (in some ways) and impair (in others) what came before. Petroski, a professor of civil engineering and of history at Duke University, illustrates his argument in a series of delightful chapters, many derived from his "Engineering" column in American Scientist magazine. He starts each with observations (some stimulated by reports in the New York Times "Patents" feature) about one or another made thing--staircases, paper cups and paper bags and the machinery to make them, duct tape and WD-40, automobile cup holders, and ink-jet printers. Many trace the origins and development of a particular device or way of doing things, and they all continually reassert Petroski's primary theme. These reflections lead him (often apparently by free association) to other examples--from the invention of single-lever faucets to the redesign of vegetable peelers, from the placement of doorknobs to that of light switches--that further demonstrate just how designers made their choices within constraints to achieve workable compromises. Although the regular echo of Petroski's thesis (not unexpected in articles that first appeared months apart) at times seems repetitious, the pleasure and excitement of seeing his playful mind at work more than make up for any annoyance. One design constraint that often emerges is the need for designers to think within the box and to consider the "compatibility with the existing world," the oversight of which "can jeopardize years of development work and result in an ultimate design and financial disaster." This statement of principle comes as Petroski traces the design of easier-to-manipulate toothbrushes too thick for traditional bathroom racks and leads into discussions of the Great Eastern (a mid-19th-century steamship too large for most contemporaneous harbors) and of the Concorde. Petroski also raises this point in considering the two different keypad arrangements found on telephones, on one hand, and on electronic calculators, on the other. In doing so, he reviews late-1950s Bell Labs studies of other designs that concluded that one alternative would be faster and that another was most preferred by those who tried it. He notes (more or less approvingly) that, despite these results, telephone manufacturers chose to keep the now conventional arrangement "'since it uses the available space efficiently and permits a simplified design in the initial application.'" Contrarily, however, he points out that few people have trouble shifting between telephone keypads and calculator keypads and that "we all seem to adapt easily to the machine before us." One wonders, however, how Petroski would view attempts of standard QWERTY keyboard users to type on Dvorak keyboards, and vice versa. Petroski's Web site describes one of his primary interests as "the use of case histories to understand the role of human error and failure in engineering design." Yet, as his book well illustrates, most (or at least many) design failures are not caused by human errors but derive, perhaps inevitably, from the necessity of compromise and the impossibility of making choices that satisfy all constraints. Whatever their cause, such failures do occur, and these often have major consequences. One such failure that Petroski does not discuss is the design of the butterfly ballot, used in south Florida in the year 2000. Some argue that the use of this ballot determined the results of that year's presidential election and, in some ways, the fate of the nation. One need not accept this argument in full to realize just how significant and complicated the process of design can be, and Small Things Considered provides all sorts of penetrating and broadly interesting insights into the nature of this process.

Michael M. Sokal has taught history of technology to engineering undergraduates at Worcester Polytechnic Institute since 1970. He will serve as president of the History of Science Society in 2004 and 2005. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

Review
" A masterful expression of how design affects the civilized world." --Los Angeles Times Book Review
“Delightful. . . . A keen observer to the made world and how people live in it. . . . Small Things Considered provides all sorts of penetrating and broadly interesting insights into . . . the process of design.” --Scientific American

“He peers closely at some of the most common household objects and explains how they work–or don’t. . . . Whether he’s tracing the evolution of the Oral-B toothbrush or explaining why the fastest tollbooth is always the one on the right, Petroski clearly knows the designs of our times.” --Michael Dirda, INC. Magazine
“Henry Petroski has become the main emissary from the world of engineering to the rest of us. . . . He brings clarity and good sense to his subject, making the enigmatic world of things a little less mystifying.” --Austin American-Statesman

"Fascinating. . . . [Petroski] has combined a writer's grace with an engineer's insight to give us an engaging series of essays. . . . You'll never again take a potato peeler for granted." --St. Louis Post-Dispatch

"Craftily, [Petroski] combines an engineer's insight and admiration for the way things are designed with a layman's puzzlement." --Boston Herald

"An engaging read." --The Denver Post

"Fascinating. . . . Interesting and insightful observations. . . . Petroski will make any reader . . . more aware of the processes that lead to the variety of things that are all around us and how they came to be the way they are." --Science Books & Film

"[Petroski] shares with Carl Sagan, Stephen Jay Gould, and Stephen Hawking a talent for taking his passion and making it accessible to those who lack his scientific background while being sufficiently observant and ... --This text refers to the Kindle Edition edition.

Review
" A masterful expression of how design affects the civilized world." --Los Angeles Times Book Review
“Delightful. . . . A keen observer to the made world and how people live in it. . . . Small Things Considered provides all sorts of penetrating and broadly interesting insights into . . . the process of design.” --Scientific American

“He peers closely at some of the most common household objects and explains how they work–or don’t. . . . Whether he’s tracing the evolution of the Oral-B toothbrush or explaining why the fastest tollbooth is always the one on the right, Petroski clearly knows the designs of our times.” --Michael Dirda, INC. Magazine
“Henry Petroski has become the main emissary from the world of engineering to the rest of us. . . . He brings clarity and good sense to his subject, making the enigmatic world of things a little less mystifying.” --Austin American-Statesman

"Fascinating. . . . [Petroski] has combined a writer's grace with an engineer's insight to give us an engaging series of essays. . . . You'll never again take a potato peeler for granted." --St. Louis Post-Dispatch

"Craftily, [Petroski] combines an engineer's insight and admiration for the way things are designed with a layman's puzzlement." --Boston Herald

"An engaging read." --The Denver Post

"Fascinating. . . . Interesting and insightful observations. . . . Petroski will make any reader . . . more aware of the processes that lead to the variety of things that are all around us and how they came to be the way they are." --Science Books & Film

"[Petroski] shares with Carl Sagan, Stephen Jay Gould, and Stephen Hawking a talent for taking his passion and making it accessible to those who lack his scientific background while being sufficiently observant and meticulous to keep it interesting for those who share it." --Civil Engineering


文摘 ONE

The Nature of Design

An architect, a psychologist, and an engineer were appearing together on a radio talk show. This may sound like the setup line for one of those jokes about professionals, but the situation was real and the subject of the National Public Radio program, Talk of the Nation-Science Friday, was not comedy but the design of everyday objects. The hour's discussion showed that the participants, each in his own way, took design very seriously indeed. Their characteristic mind-sets were evident from the beginning, and by the end of the hour they had conveyed a great deal about how differently their professions approach the subject under discussion.

Ira Flatow, the show's host, asked each guest to comment on what constituted good and bad design-giving examples-and the talk ranged widely from teakettles to computers. As if to signal that this was not too heavy a subject for a Friday afternoon, the architect stressed at the outset that the design of anything can be whimsical and a source of great enjoyment. He recalled getting a letter from a French poet who said that he smiled every time the little red bird on his Michael Graves-designed teakettle whistled to announce that the water had come to a boil. The psychologist agreed that the architect's teakettle was a thing of beauty and a joy to use, and he confessed that he even displayed one in his kitchen window for people to admire. The engineer, having had no personal experience with the whimsical teakettle, said nothing about it, but he thought to himself of the many times he had dripped boiling water from the very attractive but poorly designed kettle that sat on his stove at home.

Throughout the show, the architect spoke often of aesthetics and about how much of design should be driven by the appearance of things, if for no other reason than to distinguish from one another in the marketplace objects that serve the same purpose. The psychologist, while acknowledging that h
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