Dear Birgit,

Thanks for your response. Your post offered a new distinction I had
not previously known. This is the term "silent design," covering
those "who actually took design decisions in various organizations
they captured the non-designers' significant impact on design
outcomes and grounded in this they coined 'silent design' in addition
to the possible 'seen design' by professional designers."

This is a useful term for one group among those various stakeholders
and decision-makers who participate in design decisions and networks
without themselves engaging in design activity.

With the design chasm thread moving off in other directions, I will
respond briefly and return to the issue of definitions, terminology
and design domains another time.

In speaking of professional actors in the different design domains
that render the design process central to the world today, I did not
intend to exclude silent designers and other stakeholders, but I was
not referring to them. Instead, I was referring to professionals of
different kinds who engage actively in design without bearing the
professional label "designer."

We have examples of this in many programs at the Norwegian School of
Management. We have courses that cover the design process applied to
organization design, corporate strategy, marketing strategy,
logistical systems, financial systems planning, management
information systems, and other kinds of entities, systems, or
processes.

The professionals who design these entities, systems, and processes
do more than make decisions in the sense of silent design. While
there are silent designers involved in significant decisions in most
of these domains, the purpose of the programs and courses we offer is
to teach students how to design such entities, systems, and processes
well.

The people who exercise these design skills as primary responsible
designers are designated by such titles as manager, marketing
manager, strategist, CEO, CIO, CFO, operations manager, plant
manager, software engineer, systems planner, programmer, and other
titles.

While I understand the interesting distinction between "silent
design," and "seen design," these categories fail to cover at least
80% of the design processes covered by the large-scale definitions
taken from Simon, Fuller, Merriam-Webster, or the Oxford English
Dictionary.

The reason Terry Love and I have been working on a comprehensive map
of the multiple domains of design process is to understand these
issues and develop a sense of the large domain and the design
process. This large domain includes, the many fields and subfields of
design, but it is not limited to any one of these.

While I am not suggesting that everyone ought to be interested in
this particular issue, I do believe it serves valuable purposes. The
ultimate result should be useful for many kinds of inquiry into
design and design process. It should help researchers to clarify
several kinds of ontological and epistemological questions. It should
also help researchers to establish context and frame for different
kinds of research programs, such as Ben Matthews's search for
accounts of designing.

One reason for this kind of careful, painstaking work is precisely
that we must one day move beyond the circular debates that have so
often characterized design research. The issue is not that we must
all use the same definitions. Rather it is helpful to be aware that
there are different kinds of definitions by understanding them and
knowing what they mean. The ability to draw on and choose from among
a rich set of definitions carries with it a far deeper conceptual
power than simply agreeing that other definitions exist than those we
use. It is my sense that productive fields of inquiry establish rich
ranges of definitions and terms on which to draw. Even though some of
the definitions effectively contradict other definitions or function
in different ways, access to a rich vocabulary of content and
distinction permits careful development of ideas and rich process
descriptions.

You wrote that "Design research is young and what we mean by 'design'
and design talent we all agree are highly ambiguous. In research,
I've learnt that there are no right or wrong definitions per se,
rather more or less useful ones because what we need is a working
definition to enable zooming in on whatever the research question and
the phenomena of interest are.

"Given this, I guess too broad or alternatively too narrow
definitions are often not so useful because the broad ones may water
out the phenomenon of interest and the narrow ones may make too early
closure of what might be unfolding in practice."

This makes good sense to me. I would enlarge on these notes with a
few distinctions.

There are at least two forms of ambiguity in a research field such as
ours. The first kind of ambiguity is inherently difficult to
overcome. Some forms of ambiguity arise in defining or describing
processes, domains, and entities that are essentially fuzzy or
ambiguous.

This ambiguity is a consequence of the attempt to work with and
understand that which is in itself ambiguous or fuzzy.

The second kind of ambiguity is far more tractable. This ambiguity
arises from the failure to define, articulate, or describe processes,
domains, and entities that are open to better descriptions than we
have given them.

This ambiguity is a consequence of the fact that fields develop
slowly. Teasing out and clarifying issues requires us to establish
distinctions, and each distinction is usually based on the prior work
held in the information base of the field. It also requires the stock
of knowledge embodied - and held in the minds and discourse - of the
professional practitioners and researchers in the field. A field
develops its foundation of prior work over years, sometimes over
centuries.

Overcoming this second kind of ambiguity takes work - often years of
work. This is the work of research and scholarship.

Developing and articulating rich descriptions and definitions often
gives fields a far richer conceptual power than they had before the
articulation of processes, domains, and entities. In some cases, the
description or articulation frames a new approach or gives rise to
entire fields of inquiry.

This has much to do with your second note on overly broad - and
overly narrow - definitions. You wrote, "too broad or alternatively
too narrow definitions are often not so useful because the broad ones
may water out the phenomenon of interest and the narrow ones may make
too early closure of what might be unfolding in practice."

Clear, articulate definitions help us to avoid the problems of overly
broad or overly narrow definitions. One aspect of clear definition is
an understanding of what we are defining. Another is appropriate
delimitation.

Some argue that Simon's (1982: 129, 1998: 112) definition of design
as the process by which we "[devise] courses of action aimed at
changing existing situations into preferred ones" is too broad. The
argument is that the definition is so broad that it can include
nearly any purposive human process. This is a false problem based on
the failure to understand what Simon is defining.

Design involves creating something new or reshaping something that
exists for a purpose. Planning to meet needs or solve problems are
also courses of action toward a preferred situation. This definition
covers most forms of design and many other design processes. Simon is
defining design qua design. He defines all forms and domains of
design process without limiting them by field, subfield, practice, or
practitioner.

If we wish to understand the activity and nature of the design
process, we require conceptual tools to examine design qua design
regardless the field of application.

A common problem in the repeated and frequently circular attempts to
understand design qua design is the failure to distinguish between
the design process and its specific applications. Many queries that
begin by asking, "what are the essential features of design process?"
go astray when by limiting the investigation and possible answers to
a specific instantiation of design activity. Thus, a graphic designer
who explains the design process by describing the activities of
graphic design offers an answer that seems unsatisfactory to a
product designer, a software engineer, or an operations manager. The
same problem arises in each instance where we attempt to answer a
broad process question - "What is design?" -- by describing the
activities of a narrow field or subfield.

A logical translation of this query and answer reveals the problem
immediately. The design domain is a full range of several hundred
fields and subfields. Any one field or subfield shares SOME
properties in common with all other fields and subfields of design,
but no field or subfield constitutes more than a small percentage of
the entire domain.

The logical translation can be described in an Euler diagram in which
the design domain is a large circle - A.

Any given field or subfield of the comprehensive design domain is a
small circle - b - within the larger circle. The larger circle
contains many of these smaller circles, b1, b2, b3, etc. Some of
these circles may overlap ach other, form clusters, or otherwise
create networks within the domain. Given the problem of indicating
complex visual relations in an email note, I will set aside the
possible relations among b-class entities to focus on the relation
between the large A-class entity and the many b-class entities within
it.

Draw the diagram, in which the question "What is design?" is a query
about the large circle, A.

Consider an answer in which the answer describes the contents of a
small circle, b8, covering 6% of the surface areas of A.

If the question asks: "What is A?", the answer "b8" is not satisfactory.

Since the large question, "What is design?" remains a legitimate and
important question, this leads to an ongoing problem. We see this
recurring problem in otherwise useful debates that fail to generate
deeper understanding because poor definitions lead to a poor
conceptual structure.

Poor conceptual structures often lead to a second problem, since poor
conceptual structure makes it difficult to learn from the debates
that good questions inspire. Thus, we see some individuals asking the
same questions in a repetitive sequence without learning from the
answers.

We saw an example of this earlier this year. One list member asked,
"What is designing, really?" this provoked another list member to
point out the fact that the same person had posted the exact same
question on several past occasions, without apparently learning
anything from the lengthy discussions that followed the question.

Returning to central questions can be important and useful in any
field. The value of these questions increases when we conceptualize
them well and restate what has been learned in earlier cycles of
inquiry. Some inquiries fail because those who ask them fail to bring

Generating useful inquiry requires a rich conceptual structure. The
frequent tendency to answer broad-scale questions about general
design process with narrow scale answers located in a specific
subfield of practice is on case of a clear problem. While the problem
resembles the old story of "the blind men and the elephant," there is
no need to assert ambiguity or pluralism of practice. This particular
problem demonstrates the need for broad definitions where they are
appropriate and narrow definitions where they are appropriate.

In this particular case, the problem is readily solved. The answer
lies within current designations for the many fields and subfields of
the larger design domain.

Such terms as "graphic design," product design," "naval
architecture," or "software engineering" limit here design domain
when we need to draw the appropriate boundaries of a field. When we
need to move down into subfields, we simply add limits as appropriate.

There are important things to be described and understood about most
narrow design processes, and the fields and subfields that practice
these processes have a range of terms and definitions that serve
them. We can use these. Simon's broad definition - the large A-class
entity in our Euler diagram - describes the large-scale design
process in a powerful, elegant way. The very properties that make it
an ideal definition for the entire domain make it far too blunt an
instrument to tease out the vital distinctions of subfield activity
systems. Rather than subsuming everything under a definition as broad
and generally useful as Simon's, therefore, we also need specific
definitions - the b-class entities in the Euler diagram. Within each
b-class entity, there will also be a structure of terms for important
entities, systems, or processes.

A specific professional structure of distinctions and definitions
described the entities, systems, and processes used to create type
fonts in the Seventeenth century. These involved cutting dies,
pouring hot lead into molds, and handling type in processes linked to
the arts of calligraphy, jewelry, metallurgy, carpentry, and even
winemaking.

A different structure of entities, systems, and processes translates
the same type fonts into digital fonts. These are linked to the arts
of computer programming, visual representation, electrical
engineering, electromechanical engineering, and mechatronics.

Yet another series of terms and definitions describe the entities,
systems, and processes used to transmit pages of digital type to a
printing firm that works directly from the designer's coded
instructions without mediating physical technology or photographic
plates.

Fortunately, the design domain and its many fields and subfields
posses a rich structure of definitions and terms for the entities,
systems, and processes that function on nearly all scales and levels
of analysis. These range from the large-scale generic processes of
design to the most specific technical activity systems of a subfield
skill set.

Establishing basic definitions and parameters affords us important
conceptual tools. While these tools enable scholarship and research,
these are far more than abstract tools. They also grant conceptual
access to realms of active design practice at the professional,
technical, and vocational levels.

No definition can be complete or all-inclusive. Rather, a definition
serves to establish terms as used in a specific context. Clarity is
important for understanding theory. Theoretical sensitivity and
methodological sophistication rest on understanding the concepts we
use.

None of us is obliged to accept any specific definition. Many of us
find that no single definition suits us, and we are often obliged to
restate or reshape definitions to the task. Precisely because there
is no need for adherence to a single definition, using clear
definitions helps to make our usage clear in each case.

Here I am in the middle of a warm summer afternoon polishing what
started this morning as a brief response to your excellent note. I
suppose we tend to focus on the issues in any research field that
fascinate us. For me, this fascinating topic holds great value for
the field. There are many similarly valuable topics. The rich ecology
of a growing field affords us the opportunity to explore issues that
interest us, sharing our results and learning from others on the
issues that interest them. That is what I plan to do with your other
comments in the design chasm thread, and with the comments from
Karen, Rob, Glenn, Lubomir, and the others.

Best regards,

Ken


References

Simon, Herbert. 1982. The Sciences of the Artificial. 2nd ed.
Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press.

Simon, Herbert. 1998. The Sciences of the Artificial. 3rd ed.
Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press.

--

Ken Friedman, Ph.D.
Associate Professor of Leadership and Strategic Design
Department of Leadership and Organization
Norwegian School of Management

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