The Dangers of Meaning

Every time I see a Lamy Fountain pen I think of my father. The Lamy “Safari” is a simple inexpensive plastic pen, but was one of the objects I lusted for the most in my childhood. In that pen I saw and still see a sense of sophistication, of elegance, love, and most importantly the architectural script of my father. It held a hidden knowledge of the world, decades of my father’s life, all that a pen symbolized experience.

How could a designer know that a simple pen, while embodying a refined sculptural form, could symbolize all of those aspects to a young boy all the way through his journey into manhood? How could a designer ever know the personal story, which will be formed around that cheap plastic object? I don’t believe it is possible.

When we try to define our ability to bring meaning to objects and progress even further with that thought by creating meanings for products, all we end up doing is hinder the personal meanings which will be attached to an object. When we define our own meaning for an object and shove it into the consumer’s hand all we are saying is “I want you to feel the same way about this as everyone else, let this product impose emotions on you.”

By hindering the natural process of attaching a personal emotion to a product we as designers help perpetuate the twentieth century idea of mass consumerism, and throw away design. If there is no personal meaning attached to a product, and only forced meaning, we are much more willing to discard it if it gets dirty or damaged but still salvageable.

The best example I can think of to better illustrate my point is that of a teddy bear given to ones young child. Imagine the same bear given to two different children, one with a nametag that came with it telling the child the bears name is “cuddles”, the other the parent has removed the tag and tells their child to name the bear. The first child will go to school the next day and realize that several other people in their class also have “cuddles”, in a couple day the child will end up forgetting about their generic bear and leave him in their toy bin.

The second Child with the unnamed bear will spend several days trying to figure out a really good name for their new friend, taking it everywhere he goes, eventually arriving at the conclusion that his new best friend must be named “Brawer” for the sound he makes when he’s hunting. The second child takes his bear everywhere he goes until the stitching on its arm falls out, and his eye pops out, but never stopping the young boy from taking “Brawer” everywhere he goes.

While this story may sound like an extreme, I believe when we as designers try to attach unnecessary meaning and emotion to a product we hinder the individual from growing attached to the product. When the designer defines all aspects of an object, what is left for the consumer to engage with?