Design-side economics

One of the weirder criticisms of free markets goes something like this: Business people and entrepreneurs are constantly seeking to destroy old things and methods in the name of progress and thereby trick us into the pursuit of mindless, meaningless consumerism.

For guilt-inducing, dizzying, holier-than-thou rhetoric, this one is tough to beat. However this view, and the moral imperative it contains, quickly begins to wilt under the slightest scrutiny.

Let us accept the dire premise, popular among some disciples of anti-globalist Naomi Klein, that consuming is bad. How are we to stop it? According to the logic above, apparently by stopping technological progress and innovation. But at what point do we stop progress? Should we forbid any future invention as of today, denying our children the chance to follow their natural inclination to create?

Or, in a more radical vein, how about a Kyoto-style roll-back; in this case a roll back of technology, in order to recreate the conditions of an earlier, pre-consumer society? Do we get rid of the computer, reverting to the typewriter, carbon paper and white-out? But why, logically, stop there? After all, we have all the artifacts — the work-intensive tools, the bogus medicines — in museums to recreate society and life as it was 300 or even 3000 years ago?

Well, there are limits, the Klein disciples would say, once having contemplated making their morning double lattes over a campfire. Indeed, in my personal experience, many of those who believe consumerist society is bad cannot conceive of life without their Body Shop bath gels and Doc Martin shoes. It’s not consuming that they’re against, it’s “incorrect” consuming.

How do we tell the difference between stuff we should and should not buy? Apparently by hanging with the right crowd and devoting one’s life to caring about these things. If you don’t have time or aptitude for this, here’s an example you can apply generally. Correct purchase: leather gloves from Danier. Incorrect purchase: fuzzy slippers and a bag of Reese’s Pieces from Wal-Mart.

Fortunately, in a free-market economy, we do not have to rely on the Naomi Klein’s of the world to tell us what products should or should not succeed in the market. The market and consumer will decide that. The principle was brought home to me by a review of new mid-size sedans that recently appeared in the New York Times. The critic’s top choice was the Mazda6i, but what intrigued me was the review of the Chevrolet Impala LS. In the review, one auto journalist was quoted as saying that the car had a terrific ride and proven engine, “But I wouldn’t be caught dead owning one.”

This is the problem General Motors is up against as it continues to lose market share. Less and less frequently, the design of its vehicles successfully connect with the tastes and needs of the modern car buyer.

It is good design that creates the desire to own and swells product demand. In a sense, new design and the concept of progress are synonymous. I saw countless examples of the connection between design, progress and product desirability in a recent magazine feature on new household products: a bath tub with a door (boy, my mom could use that), a dish rack that folds up for easy storage.

It is because of the irreducibility of good design that we can ultimately put our faith in people and the market. Progress, embodied in appealing design that adds benefit, is not some shrewd, manipulative strategy used to dupe us into buying more stuff we don’t need. The consumer may be duped once, but generally not twice. Word gets out. I have never owned a pair of fuzzy slippers, but, accounting for the endurance of the product, I’m willing to wager they make a pair of tired feet feel special.

Michael LeGault, editore-mail: mlegault@canplastics.com