Consumer Beliefs and the S.S.P. By Nicholas Martin. Design is in essence no more than problem solving. One big problem facing a great number of businesses in the world today is how to make people buy more things. Every professional field designs solutions to this all important problem in some capacity (that's what defines a class of activity as a professional field), and every professional field offers a different solution. The reason for this is that they each have not only a different way of observing the problem but also a different toolset with which to solve it. For instance, if a historian worked for a business confronted with the problem of selling stuff to people (the 'selling stuff problem', hereafter abbreviated to 'S.S.P.'), he would tell his employers to emulate the most successful manner used in the most similar time past. On the other hand, an economist would more likely recommend an economic solution, concerned with the pricing and cash flow situation of the people who would likely need the product. The more broad and unspecific historical and economic design solutions are, the more accurate they are. Thus, they become less useful to a company trying to decide how to market a new, unique product to people living in a time as unique as the present. The core assumption of the practical or 'armchair' economistís S.S.P. solution is that it is necessity that drives sales; that it is by necessity you or I buy the things that we do. The major logical stumbling point I see in our economistís approach is that it fails to address the fact that necessity means different things to different people. You could even go so far as to say that every person believes that his or her needs are totally unique - how many people could seriously say that their needs in life could be generalized - that they could find fulfillment in the exact same things that a great number of other people could? No person can seriously make that claim, because what we think we need in life is a very large part of what defines us as individuals, or rather, of what we feel defines our own individuality. We can generalize about our needs as consumers of course; if we couldn't, the S.S.P. would be not only unsolvable but also impossible to address. And although intensive, well funded study of the S.S.P. has yet to yield a satisfactory solution, generalizations about the, public's needs, allowing businesses to make the money so desperately needed for S.S.P. research. Now, you may ask, what is it about the S.S.P. that is so tricky? Itís not tricky like the traveling salesman problem, or proving Riemann's zeta hypothesis regarding the mysterious distribution of prime numbers on the number line. Even these seemingly unconquerable problems, mysteries of the universe in their most raw form, are occasionally solved, often times even being mentioned in newspapers afterwards. Yet even in 2003, the terrible walls of the S.S.P. fortress remain as unsullied as ever. Of course, the majority of mathematical research is concerned with theoretical proofs of what we already know in practice. For instance, cartographers have probably known for a long time that a map need only 3 colors to define color any map without any two adjacent geographical areas being the same color (and thus hard to tell apart). Yet it is just in these modern times of supercomputers and graph paper that we have known for sure. Similarly, businesses have known for a long time that there are a few surefire ways to make money, to generalize and manipulate the publicís needs - indeed, there would be no businesses anywhere without these techniques. Despite great efforts to make sense of it, the S.S.P. remains every bit as mysterious as a ghostly, enigmatic ship gliding silently over the unfathomable, murky waters of a secret lake in an enigmatic land. Common sense obviates that comparing the S.S.P. to mathematical problems is absurd. The S.S.P. is inherently different from mathematical problems since it arises not from our desire for knowledge for the sake of knowledge but from the desire of certain powerful entities (businesses) to be able to become even more powerful. It is in this sense a contrived problem - a problem for its own sake, a problem that need not actually have a solution. Even though this may seem obvious to you or I, the S.S.P. is still constantly pursued, simply because the thought of knowing the answer, having the keys to the kingdom, is too good for a business to resist. One could muse that the S.S.P. is like the quest for the holy grail, and that the search for it is in fact the real solution in that a business looking for a way to sell something to you is a business that becomes attentive to your needs, naturally. This musing's analogy would be correct, especially if it turned out that the mythical holy grail killed you rather than giving you immortality. The reason the S.S.P. is such a monster is that a businessí knowledge of its hypothetical solution, that is, how to sell anything to anybody, would be unappealing to us their consumers, who buy only when we feel that on some level, a product has been made for us, that it is perfect for our needs. Suppose, if you will, that McDonalds came out with a new croissandwich next week. Suppose that the reason that you would like this new croissandwich, according to their advertising, is that they know for a fact that you would like it, because their marketing department have a very clever way of modeling your innermost needs and desires. How good would that breakfastey sandwich treat taste to you? I'll bet not too good. In my previous essay, I discussed how in modern times consumer appeal is primarily created by an industrial designerís personal vision, and it is this designer who in some small way we feel is responsible for the quality we desire of the products we buy (as opposed to this appeal being created by our knowledge of the laborers and processes used to create the object). I submit that industrial designers exist for reason more than to simply create the impression that a product was designed by an individual. After all, is this really enough to sell a product with? If I glance into storefront x and see that product y was is the result of the coherent vision of designer z, is this going to strike a chord with me? Of course not. The designer's particular choices must appeal to me in particular, they must have to do with more than my need for the object, even if I do need it. The total consumer, that which the industrial designer must take into account, may for our purposes be considered a package of beliefs about how products may fulfill personal needs. These beliefs, since they are unique to each of us and difficult for even the consumer to describe (often they will see a totally new and unexpected product and simply have to have it, a phenomena that could be termed latent demand) are much more difficult to describe than they are to observe. The obvious reason for this is that we are all consumers, and so it would follow that our own nature is as difficult to characterize as our lust for what weíve never seen before. Thank the Lord for small mercies then that there are observable peculiarities in consumer behavior. A good example of these peculiarities is meat. Meat, especially red meat, is delicious, and all consumers like it unless they have something wrong with them. Meat, peculiarly, is sold in packages made of materials notably different from the materials mother nature uses (animals). Plastic-wrapped Styrofoam is about as different from a cow as you can get. Why then is meat sold prepackaged in small containers rather than cut off of newly dead animals? The obvious and correct reason is convenience, but try to imagine what would happen if the whole reality of the butchering process were made apparent, from breeding to feeding to growth and to slaughter. Imagine if the consumer had no choice but to see the big, black dopey eyes of the cowís head stare at them as they hang lifeless on a hook (the cow not the consumer). A huge dead animal is a more frightening, and unappetizing image than your local butcher could afford to have around. So would make sense then that the process behind the productís existence (killing) is hidden. The consumer believes that the meat will fulfill his need for something delicious, something good, not something bad. Death is probably the last thing you want your customers thinking about. Our relationship with nature is interesting in that we selectively embrace it. When a product is a natural, created through natural processes, we think of it more highly than we would otherwise, indeed this is often a primary selling point (just think of health food stores). It is peculiar then that we hate natural processes that create unpleasantness. One natural process particularly reviled is that of dogs having sex with each other without human consent and intervention. Mutts, mongrel dogs, whatever you call them, we hate them. Despite being stronger from a genetic standpoint and more even tempered from a practical one, many people support dog breeders, and many people prefer to own dogs bred for no other purpose than controlled sameness. We believe that these dogs are somehow more desirable than their peers of the muddy races. The reasons for this are complex, for one thing, dog breeds have historically not only been maintained but mixed for specific purposes, often by wealthy people. It is these breeds of old which are in our day perpetuated, nobody breeds dogs that are well suited to living in the city or to cater to any other aspect of modern life (although some people breed dogs for being vicious). Our desire for pure bred dogs may be associated with our desire to own a piece of history. Or we may simply feel a sense of pride in being able to think that a breed of a dog matters, and that the dog's most superficial characteristics (and the ones that matter the least to the dog) are the ones that define the dog's temperament. When you pick up a dog from the pound you don't know what you're getting, probably something bad - I know that if someone rescued me from certain death I'd try to bite them and defecate on their furniture. On the other hand, when you get a purebred golden retriever you can rest assured that no matter what you do to the animal it will still be as mellow as the salesperson assures you. Another strange commodity item are things created by mysterious processes. These have no designer or conscious entity behind them which we can relate to. Examples of these objects can come from the outer cosmos, such as meteorites or moon rocks, or they may simply have been created by long gone people from times past, such as arrowheads made by American Indians. These may fulfill our need to be close to history, or to know where we came from. It has been said that without having a past you don't have anything, and in a way it's true. Just as a historian or economist uses events of time passed to predict the events of time approaching, we like to use objects of times passed to describe our present and to establish the inevitability of the future, I certainly know I do. I find it life affirming, despite the fact that I recognize that my belief is absurd. That the fact that a stone I like the look of does not in and of itself or in any other manner guarantee that the sun will rise tomorrow does not phase me. In fact, it is really this sort of conflict and uncertainty which characterizes life, explaining why we so relish certain pointless, painful and risky activities, such listening to punk music, fist fighting and getting 'tore up', they confirm that we are living. The desire to collect objects of importance is not a desire ignored by industrial designers. If a product can be designed so that it becomes collected and held dear, it will be very profitable. Children are notorious collectors of certain types of things, examples being the merchandise associated with favorite television programs, separate toys collected for no other reason than to collect (Pogs, for instance), or some combination of the two (Pokemon is the obvious example). One wildly successful merchandising effort for a television program is that of Spongebob Squarepants (hereafter abbreviated to S.S.P.). S.S.P. is interesting for a number of reasons. For one thing, S.S.P. appeals not only to kids but to people of my age and older. This has more to do with the quality of the show itself than anything. What makes the S.S.P. success so interesting is that the merchandise has an immense variety that takes the unusually large demographic spread of viewers into account. Rather than simply making a few dolls (or 'action figures') and associated accessories, Nickelodeon creates a vast, Hello Kitty-like range of toys. None of these toys seem at first to cater to adults, since adults donít like S.S.P. for its adult appeal. You cannot buy a S.S.P. cover for your P.D.A., for instance. The S.S.P. merchandising effort responds the showís universal appeal instead through variety, making so many different items that any consumer may find some way to fill his or her personal space with S.S.P., be this space a childís bedroom, a toll collector's booth or an office worker's cubicle. If you want some S.S.P. there is some S.S.P. out there perfect for you. The peculiarity in this collecting behavior is that we believe that a piece of S.S.P. merchandise will somehow make us like S.S.P. This belief is normal in children, of course, since a child's primitive imagination does not distinguish whimsical absurdity and reality. It seems a bit out of place then, with adults, who themselves believe that they are somehow beyond childhood. The profitability of S.S.P. merchandise among adults would seem to contradict this then, since it clearly taps into a childlike part of the adult mind and wallet. We have seen so far that the consumer's belief about a product can range from fanciful to downright incorrect. It is worth mentioning that our beliefs are not as completely inert as all that, and as much as we try to ignore the fact, our 'odd' or 'peculiar' behavior as consumers has real consequences on larger, impersonal scales. These consequences are basically what you would call 'all that is wrong with the world', and I don't aim to create a complete list here but the first negative consequence I'd discuss is 'environmental problems'. 'Environmental problems' is a euphemistic term for damage the place where we live and the destruction of the natural world upon which we depend. All goods come from the earth in some form. Even our most personal musings have to be written down on something, often paper which is of course made from trees or other paper. When we buy something that appeals to us and fulfills our needs, be they for novelty, personal appearance or survival, we do not take into account the needs that we are not familiar with, like how our constantconsumption destroys the place we live. The way designers typically address this problem is through designing with what they call environmental consciousness. Unfortunately, products designed with the environment in mind use this consciousness as nothing more than a selling point to appeal to consumers who pretend to understand the magnitude of the earth's troubles. Another very horrible consequence of consumption is the way it affects foreigners. We all know about how generally dark skinned, impoverished people are in other, generally warm places exploited and worked under conditions that we wouldnít tolerate. Nobody seriously thinks that machines have totally replaced human beings in producing the objects that we surround ourselves with. They're still made by people, using machines perhaps, but still people. Sometimes you'll see products that are made by the same sorts of unwealthy people that make everything else, products that glorify the undeniable rustic primitivism of traditional hand craft. Often a portion of profits goes to the people who made the things. This is not a design solution to the problem of oppression and poverty, it is a design solution to the S.S.P. (the first one), and a pretty terrible on at that. Not only does it fail but it manages to in some small way belittle the problems and ridicule the industrial capabilities of the people upon whom we inflict suffering. These fulfill no other need than that of a consumer who thinks that their ability to relish a primitive, poorly made object makes them some kind of modern saint. There has not been and there never will be a designer that successfully addresses these two problems or those of their ilk, since the designers are here to do one thing: make things that sell. The negative consequences of these designs are consequences of the desire to make money, not the consequences of insensitive design. This reveals to us the fundamental limitation of design, a limitation that most designers Iíve met or heard about are unwilling to recognize. Why is this? There is great temptation to believe that design can somehow cure the worldís ills, since without that potential, design is a pretty demoralizing field to be working in. Who wants to feel like a part of a big destructive machine? Not me. Yet at the same time, the only real solutions to huge problems necessitate the reversal of my entire way of life. So as long as these seemingly huge problems donít necessitate some sort of revolution (if ever), they're going to stay with us.