Designing Design

Key facts

Design is the Architecture of Information: The finished product isn't the poster or object; it's the image constructed in the recipient's brain. The designer’s job is to orchestrate sensory inputs to build that mental image effectively.
"This Will Do" vs. "This is What I Want": True quality in design (as seen in MUJI) isn't about triggering strong desire or ego ("I want this"). It is about creating a rational satisfaction ("This will do") that is so well-executed it surpasses luxury.
Emptiness vs. Simplicity: Western minimalism often strips things down to be functional. Japanese "emptiness" creates a void that invites the user to participate and fill it with their own imagination and lifestyle.
Haptic Design: We perceive the world with our whole bodies, not just our eyes. Great design anticipates the sense of touch—like a juice box that feels like the fruit skin—triggering deep biological memories.
Exformation: In a world drowning in information, the designer’s job is to create "exformation"—highlighting what is unknown about a familiar subject to spark genuine curiosity and fresh understanding.

Opening: The Designer as a Sensory Architect

Published in 2007, Designing Design serves as both a portfolio of Kenya Hara’s most influential curatorial work and a philosophical manifesto. Written at a time when digital technology was beginning to dominate the design conversation, Hara takes a deliberate step back to examine the physical, tactile, and sensory roots of human experience.

Hara posits that "verbalizing design is another act of design." He does not view design merely as the creation of objects or graphics, but as the architecture of information within the recipient's mind. His approach stands in quiet contrast to the loud, marketing-driven "novelty" that characterized much of the late 20th century. Instead of shouting, Hara is interested in the "whisper"—how subtle changes in texture, shape, and context can trigger deep, haptic memories and biological responses.

This book is significant because it reframes the designer's job description. Rather than an artist expressing a personal ego, the designer is presented as a housekeeper of the senses, tidying up the chaos of the world to present information in its purest, most potent form.

Re-Design: Making the Ordinary Unknown

One of the book’s central pillars is the concept of "Re-Design." Hara argues that while creating something entirely new is creative, taking something universally known and making it "unknown" again requires a higher level of insight. To demonstrate this, he curated an exhibition where he asked top Japanese creators to redesign mundane commodities.

The most famous example from this project is the square toilet paper designed by architect Shigeru Ban. By changing the core from a circle to a square, the roll no longer spins freely; it clunks. This slight physical resistance functions as a subtle message to the user to economize paper. Furthermore, the square rolls stack perfectly without wasted space, optimizing logistics.

Another striking example is Naoto Fukasawa’s tea bag. The tag attached to the string is usually a brand label. Fukasawa changed the tag into a translucent ring the color of perfectly brewed tea. The user waits until the tea in the cup matches the color of the ring, solving the problem of "how long to steep" through intuitive visual matching rather than written instructions.

These projects illustrate Hara’s belief that the most cutting-edge design resources are often found in the things we ignore. By stripping away the "known" context of daily objects, designers can uncover the essence of human interaction.

Haptic: Awakening the Senses

Hara introduces the concept of "Haptic" design—design that prioritizes the sense of touch and the body’s physical memory over mere visual aesthetics. He critiques modern design for being overly reliant on vision, arguing that humans perceive the world through a bundle of sensory inputs.

To illustrate this, he discusses the "Juice Skin" packaging by Naoto Fukasawa. In this project, juice boxes were designed to mimic the texture and appearance of the fruit they contained. The banana juice box has the tactile, slightly waxy feel of a banana peel; the strawberry juice box is dotted with seeds; the kiwi box has a fuzzy texture. This isn't just a visual gag; it triggers a "haptic" memory—the brain anticipates the taste and viscosity of the juice before the package is even opened.

Hara also presents the "Gel Remote" by Panasonic. When not in use, the remote is a soft, limp object, like a deflated balloon or a sleeping creature. When grasped, it stiffens and lights up, seemingly "waking up" in response to human touch. This explores the emotional relationship between man and machine, moving away from cold, hard plastics toward "senseware"—objects that feel alive.

Emptiness: The Philosophy of MUJI

As the art director of MUJI, Hara dedicates a significant portion of the book to explaining the brand’s philosophy, distinguishing the Japanese concept of "emptiness" from the Western concept of "simplicity."

Western modernism tends to simplify forms to achieve functional rationality (less is more). Hara argues that MUJI pursues "emptiness" (users fill the void). He describes MUJI products as "empty vessels" that can accept any user's lifestyle or context.

He illustrates this with the MUJI advertising campaigns. Instead of highlighting specific products, he placed the MUJI logo against vast, empty horizons—photos taken at the salt lakes of Bolivia or the plains of Mongolia. These images convey no specific message other than vast potential. They allow the viewer to project their own desires and needs onto the brand.

Hara frames MUJI’s goal not as "This is what I want" (which implies strong desire and ego), but "This will do." This sounds like resignation, but Hara elevates "This will do" to a level of supreme rationality and contentment. It is a rejection of the cycle of endless consumption and brand ego, aiming instead for a "global rational value."

Senseware: Paper and Information Architecture

Hara challenges the idea that paper is becoming obsolete in the digital age. He redefines paper not as a recording medium, but as "Senseware"—a material that stimulates the senses.

He points to the opening ceremony program for the Nagano Winter Olympics as a prime example. The program was designed to evoke the memory of treading on fresh snow. Using thick, fluffy paper and debossing (pressing designs down into the paper), the typography and images appeared like footprints in snow. The guests didn't just read the program; they "felt" the atmosphere of the winter games through their fingertips.

This connects to Hara’s broader theory of Information Architecture. He argues that the final destination of design is not the poster or the product, but the brain of the recipient. The designer constructs an "image" inside the user’s mind using sensory inputs as building blocks.

Exformation: Making the World Unknown

The final major concept Hara introduces is "Exformation." In an information-rich society, we often mistake "accessing information" for "knowing." Hara argues that true understanding comes from recognizing how little we know.

"Exformation" is a teaching method he developed with his students. It involves taking a known subject (like a river or a resort) and researching it so deeply and from such fresh angles that the subject becomes mysterious and "unknown" again.

For example, when students researched the Shimanto River, they didn't just map it. They gathered trash from the riverbed and cataloged it like archaeological finds. They photographed the river surface and superimposed asphalt road markings on it to visualize the flow and scale. By making the familiar river look strange, they forced the audience to look closer and actually see the river, rather than just glazing over a postcard image.

Contemporary Perspective

Reading Designing Design today, Hara’s insights feel prescient regarding the "flatness" of the digital world. As our interactions move almost exclusively to glass screens, the "Haptic" chapter reads as a warning of what we are losing—the texture of reality.

Modern UX/UI designers often cite Hara’s "emptiness" philosophy when discussing minimalist interfaces. The idea that an interface should be a "vessel" for user content rather than a decorative object is a direct lineage of the thinking found in this book. Furthermore, Hara’s focus on sustainability—not just through materials, but through the "education of desire" (teaching consumers to be satisfied with "enough")—is more relevant now than it was in 2007.

Conclusion

Designing Design is a plea for sensitivity. Kenya Hara creates a compelling argument that design is not about adding decoration, but about removing noise to reveal essence. By focusing on sensory perception, materials, and the power of emptiness, he offers a design methodology that is deeply humanistic.

This book is essential reading not just for graphic and industrial designers, but for anyone involved in communication. It teaches you that before you can design a solution, you must first redesign the question, stripping away your assumptions until the ordinary becomes extraordinary again.

Designing Design — Summary & Key Ideas