
The case of the Herald of Free Enterprise can teach us one curious investigative technique that can be particularly helpful in identifying culprits in cases of human error. But let’s first take a short break from human fallibility. Picking apart someone’s bad design decisions is as easy as it is untimely: what’s done is done, and the best we can do once the flaws reveal themselves is learn from mistakes that have already happened.
Let’s instead ask ourselves this: what distinguishes a well-designed system or product from a bad one? Why do some products become known as models of reliability and efficiency, whereas others — often quite similar at first glance — seem almost built to attract problems? What can we do at the planning stage to ensure that whatever comes off our drawing board becomes a safe and efficient product or workflow?
If I had to pick one key principle of good design above all others, it would be this:
Good design fits the system instead of forcing the system to fit it.
Look around. Our world consists of a multitude of processes that operate reliably and sustainably around us every single day:
The Sun rises in the east and sets in the west.
Gravity pulls objects towards the ground.
Weather follows recurring patterns, both short-term (clear weather gives way to overcast conditions and then clears again), long-term (warmer in summer, cooler in winter), and very long-term (El Niño and La Niña).
Plants and animals grow and thrive in favourable conditions and decline in unfavourable ones, both as individual organisms and as species.
Social life is subject to similar patterns:
People wake up in the morning and go to bed in the evening, becoming increasingly tired as the day progresses.
Most people in WEIRD countries are motivated by status and recognition, social affiliation, and comfort and security.
Most Westerners form nuclear households with one or two children and live independently of their own parents.
In certain societies, families extend beyond nuclear boundaries, with multiple generations and more distant relatives heavily involved in one another’s lives.
Most people navigate supermarkets counterclockwise.
More than half of motorists would fail a theory test if they retook it today.
Learning new things requires mental effort. Using familiar things doesn’t.
Most individuals, groups, organisations, towns, and countries develop sets of rules and patterns of behaviour that they follow in day-to-day life. Whether you call them laws, policies, cultural norms, routines, or rules of thumb, they are mechanisms people rely on to function efficiently and contentedly.
All these processes — physical, biological, social, and many others — come together to form one enormous system. Every one of us operates both with and within that system, relying on mechanisms that are already part of it.
Whenever you set out to design an object, a process, or a system, you are effectively inserting a new element into that colossal arrangement of gears, levers, and wheels. The element you introduce will inevitably change the system in some way: it may squeeze between gears, make some levers move more smoothly, or cause some wheels to turn faster. Or perhaps it will cause gears to lose contact with one another or make the levers too heavy. It may even produce excess heat, making neighbouring components too hot to touch.
The effect will vary, but there will always be one. A poorly engineered element, or one inserted in the wrong place, may cause wheels to spin aimlessly, wasting energy. It may introduce friction between gears that previously turned smoothly. Another may make no observable difference at all, simply sitting there, consuming resources and complicating maintenance.
A well-designed and carefully positioned element, on the other hand, can make the whole system work better. It might replace a dozen pairs of gears with one cleverly positioned pair, reducing both time and energy costs. It might adjust a faulty wheel ever so slightly so that it no longer throws sparks against the wheel beside it. Or it might make use of heat already produced by a steam engine, using that heat both to power itself and to dispose of excess thermal energy.
The point is that a well-designed object, system, or workflow increases the overall value of the larger system by integrating smoothly into it rather than demanding that the system make allowances for it. It takes something from the system and gives something back, but the net result of that interaction is positive.
That positive net result is the value your product introduces: it improves the system and, as a consequence, creates a sustainable reward.
Poorly designed objects, by contrast, obstruct the system’s existing processes and take from it without giving enough back. Even if they generate some value in isolation, that value may be offset by making the wider system slower, more expensive, or less reliable. Such objects can produce short-term benefits for some people, but they are unlikely to be sustainable in the long run.
Compare these two automotive designs:
An internal combustion engine produces hot exhaust gas. The manufacturer installs a cooling fan next to the exhaust manifold to cool the gas and prevent damage to nearby plastic components. The fan consumes electrical energy supplied by the alternator, which in turn receives mechanical energy from the engine through a belt.
Now imagine instead that the manufacturer installs a turbocharger that extracts energy from the exhaust to produce additional power, or channels that energy through a thermoelectric generator to produce electricity for the vehicle’s electronics. In the process, the exhaust gas gives up some of its energy and cools naturally.
The first design spends energy to fight an undesirable aspect of the system. The second design adopts and embraces that aspect, getting rid of it through a natural process and acquiring energy as a reward.
Build a habit of asking yourself: will the system benefit from my invention, policy, or protocol? Or will it rather be a burden for the system, even if providing limited local benefits for a narrow set of users?
Inventions that stick with the former are known to lead a long and happy life.
Because they proudly follow the golden principle of good design.



A copy of a council tax bill certified by the post office

