Heirloom Design  

WorldChanging has a post on Saul Griffith's "heirloom economy" idea - Heirloom Design. This is an interesting concept, though it does require a rather radical reorientation of our economic system (which Aldous Huxley once aptly described as having three pillars of prosperity - armaments, universal debt and planned obsolescence) - the "cradle to cradle" option I usually promote is much better aligned with endlessly churning wheels of industry based on planned obsolescence (or technological innovation, for the less cynical).

Can we live sustainably while still enjoying our stuff? Buying better stuff (and less of it), and keeping it for longer is one realistic strategy for making that possible. But we know that won't work with most of the stuff we have now. Whether it's clothes, computers, appliances or even homes, throwaway culture in the developed world -- accompanied by throwaway design -- makes for stuff we not only don't want to keep, but that we often can't continue to use even if we try.

Enter a new meme: Heirloom Design. At Compostmodern, Saul Griffith proposed the concept, which he describes as design that is intended to last for generations. Griffith said he's planning to give his soon-to-be-born son a Rolex and Mont Blanc pen ... and then tell him that these would be the only watch and pen he could use for the next 100 years.

"It sounds like I'm a pretentious wanker when I say 'green' is a Rolex and a Mont Blanc pen, but what I really mean is, you have to design things and experiences that will last a very long time, that have been thoughtfully designed and are very beautiful," Griffith explained.

Durability is not a new concept for sustainability. In theory, if a product stays around longer, it means that a replacement product doesn't need to be manufactured and transported to the consumer, and the original product stays out of the landfill. But durability alone doesn't ensure that something won't be thrown away. Heirloom design introduces something more: our desire as consumers to keep an object because it has some meaning for us. What makes something worthy of passing down through generations?

Griffith's examples involve heavy initial investments, which can certainly motivate someone to care for and keep a product longer. But the power of price is relative to the consumer's disposable income, and it still isn't everything. The point is to not limit heirloom-quality goods to certain people, but to recover an ideal of making things for everyone that will last for generations. When I spoke with Griffith about this, he suggested that designers really need to figure out how to make something beautiful and well made that isn't expensive.

That goal may not be as pie-in-the-sky as it sounds. In a book called Antiques of the Future, product designer Lisa Roberts put forth a collection of mass-produced objects that she believes will be valuable in the future, once they are no longer in production. Many of the items are relatively inexpensive, but are well made and attractive: one of her primary criteria in selection was just that the objects have "a strong and immediate visual appeal." Among her selections were Michael Graves’ tea kettle and Karim Rashid’s Garbino trash can (now, she notes, the trash can is available in biodegradable corn-based plastic).

What other products being designed now have the best chance of becoming future heirlooms? Usefulness wasn't mentioned among Roberts' criteria, but could also be a reason something is kept. A classic multifunctional tool like the Swiss Army knife may be likely to be handed from one generation to the next. Sentimental appeal is another reason something may become an heirloom, and designers can aim to create products that inspire emotional responses.

Though Roberts' book demonstrates that heirloom design doesn't necessarily have to be expensive, her work doesn't focus on design that promotes sustainability specifically. Griffith's strategy of choosing investment pieces isn't necessarily foolproof in this regard, either: a report by the World Wildlife Fund gave the world's largest luxury companies abysmal sustainability ratings. Even if an item is durable and provides heirloom appeal, limited raw resources and a growing awareness of the impacts of waste mean manufacturers will need to consider lifecycle sustainability from the beginning. A few designers, however, are already using the concept of heirloom design as a way to consciously improve their sustainability, like the clothing company Howie's, in the UK, and Entermodal in Portland, Oregon.

It's worth noting that durability/heirloom quality isn't always the best solution for every product. In some cases, it might make sense to design something to adapt to a radically shorter lifespan, like packaging that instantly biodegrades. In other instances, if a particular product is currently harmful to the environment, a short lifespan would be useful so that the product can be replaced as soon as sustainable technology is available.

At the other end of the spectrum, in some types of products -- like rapidly changing technology -- the idea of heirloom design can be taken to creative new heights. It could take the form of long-lasting hardware that accepts software upgrades: perhaps, for example, a permanent computer or cell phone case, with replaceable insides (more on this topic in John Hockenberry's terrific article for Metropolis magazine). Taking that idea to its furthest extension is a future of closed-loop manufacturing, where you could purchase only the service an item provides, relying on the manufacturer to offer you both regular upgrade opportunities and a place to return physical materials to the industrial nutrient stream.