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224 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1964
An agricultural village of six hundred people is to be reorganized to make it fit present and future conditions developing in rural India. [p.136]This is the problem, and Alexander’s solution methodology involves, firstly, listing out each individual component—social, economic, religious, political, agricultural—involved in the gestalt of village life, at a sufficient level of granularity. A sampling:
1. Harijans regarded as ritually impure, untouchable, etc.This continues all the way up to 141, “Prevent migration of young people and harijans to cities.” Now don’t get me wrong, it’s perfectly reasonable to get a grip on the most salient factors involved in forming habitable environments if you want to design one that’s… reasonably habitable. Do anthropological fieldwork: observe the flow of life in the village, chat with people living there, spend some time living there yourself, read up on the government; there’s nothing so brazenly arrogant as believing you can improve complex systems without studying their complexity. Otherwise, you’ll (almost inevitably) erase the vital nuances which made the system what it originally was, the effect being not “improved system” but “new system,” read: machine sans ghost, hamstringed monstrosity.
2. Proper disposal of dead.
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35. Protection of crops from insects, weeds, disease.
37. Provision of storage for distributing and marketing crops.
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78. Shade for sitting and walking.
84. Accommodation for panchayat records, meetings, etc.
…
[p.137-142]
1 interacts with 8, 9, 12, 13, 14, 21, 28, 29, 48, 61, 67, 68, 70, 77, 86, 101, 106, 113, 124, 140, 141.If you didn’t catch it, that’s 9 whole pages of numerical combinations, and because each variable is ultimately qualitative, hashing out these interactions is a manual process of cognition—basically the intellectual equivalent of running an ultramarathon. I don’t know about you, but I balk at the sheer volume of masochism required to even consider participating in such tasks. But yes, design is not and should not be thought of as a race; one variable more necessary for good design is quality feedback, which seems totally infeasible under Alexander’s methodology. Even assuming (quite charitably) one really has captured the most important problem components, the additional question of whether one has accurately represented the essential interactions among them is one in which concurrence is virtually impossible to achieve with any party besides oneself, as the inherent nebulosity of language guarantees misinterpretation, exponentially exacerbated here when what constitutes an “interaction” is left unspoken. Thus I conclude that, because it is so feedback-resistant, this methodology entails a certain monomania.
2 interacts with 3, 4, 6, 26, 29, 32, 52, 71, 98, 102, 105, 123, 133.
…
141 interacts with 1, 8, 9, 12, 13, 14, 15, 18, 21, 24, 48, 61, 62, 63, 65, 66, 68, 86, 89, 93, 95, 97, 100, 112, 115, 130, 138, 140.
[p.142-150]
At the time I wrote this book, I was very much concerned with the formal definition of “independence,” and the idea of using a mathematical method to discover systems of forces and diagrams which are independent. But once the book was written, I discovered that it is quite unnecessary to use such a complicated and formal way of getting at the independent diagrams. [p.136]That being said, he nevertheless demonstrates a profound understanding of design theory and Notes on the Synthesis of Form is worth reading just for that. If you don’t think this is for you, consider how the contemporary popularity of “design thinking” lies in the recognition that all problems can be conceived as design problems; one must “design” a solution (or solutions) that fits the context of the problem. Ergo, studying philosophy of design opens up space for innovation (at least this is what I tell myself), and if you want specific examples, I found Alexander’s concepts of “misfit,” “the unselfconscious process,” and “the selfconscious process” particularly well-observed. This is a review, so no explanations; my praise is as short as it needs to be.
“While ... a great deal of what is generally understood to be logic is concerned with deduction, logic... refers to something far more general. It is concerned with the form of abstract structures, and is involved the moment we make pictures of reality and then seek to manipulate these pictures so that we may look further into the reality itself.” (Notes p. 8)
“The Slovakian peasants used to be famous for the shawls they made. These shawls were wonderfully colored and patterned, woven of yarns which had been dipped in homemade dyes. Early in the twentieth century aniline dyes were made available to them. And at once the glory of the shawls was spoiled; they were now no longer delicate and subtle, but crude. This change cannot have come about because the new dyes were somehow inferior. They were as brilliant, and the variety of colors was much greater than before. Yet somehow the new shawls turned out vulgar and uninteresting.
Now if, as it is so pleasant to suppose, the shawlmakers had had some innate artistry, had been so gifted that they were simply “able” to make beautiful shawls, it would be almost impossible to explain their later clumsiness. But if we look at the situation differently, it is very easy to explain. The shawlmakers were simply able, as many of us are, to recognize bad shawls, and their own mistakes.
Over the generations the shawls had doubtless often been made extremely badly. But whenever a bad one was made, it was recognized as such, and therefore not repeated. And though nothing is to say that the change made would be for the better, it would still be a change. When the results of such changes were still bad, further changes would be made. The changes would go on until the shawls were good. And only at this point would the incentive to go on changing the patterns disappear.
So we do not need to pretend that these craftsmen had special ability. They made beautiful shawls by standing in a long tradition, and by making minor changes whenever something seemed to need improvement. But once presented with more complicated choices, their apparent mastery and judgment disappeared.”
(Notes pp. 53-4)
“It is common practice in engineering, if we wish to make a metal face perfectly smooth and level, to fit it against the surface of a standard steel block... by inking the surface of this standard block and rubbing our metal face against the inked surface. If our metal face is not quite level, ink marks appear on it at those points which are higher than the rest. We grind away these high spots.... The face is level when it fits the block perfectly, so that there are no high spots which stand out any more.” (Notes p. 19)
...every design problem begins with an effort to achieve fitness between two entities: the form in question and its context. The form is the solution to the problem; the context defines the problem. In other words, when we speak of design, the real object of discussion is not the form alone, but the ensemble comprising the form and its context.