I’m both jealous and relieved not to be John Ive.
Ive gets to design 3-dimensional, physical products for Apple. A few of his most recognized creations:
With the exception of some home projects, like the tanzu on my previous NYC loft or the headboard on my new Los Gatos bed, I design 2-dimensional items—user interfaces for Web, desktop and Mobile technology services. My work does have an interesting 3rd dimension beyond just ink on substrate: the interactions that guide users through content and produce results. But the frustrating reality is that software is very ephemeral. I’ve worked on Web sites for weeks, months and even years, then exit and return 2 years later to find the business has transformed, my designs deleted save for remnant screenshots I preserved in my portfolio. If I’m lucky, millions of users navigate my work (ideally without it getting in the way of their hunt for content) for a relatively short time, then it vanishes, very little lasting, almost nothing for history.
John Ive’s best products get consumed, loved and then indoctrinated into MoMA. Not even my most notable work, or the work of the most famous interaction designers get elevated to museum status.
Then there is a dirty underbelly to industrial design. An Ive product isn’t just one sculpture to be admired; it gets mass-produced as a non-biodegradable piece of metal, plastic and chemicals. Then, 99.999999% of it gets thrown out, accumulating in landfills or melted down, emitting dangerous environmentally hazardous gases. Chinese children get lead poisoning.
← 2,000,000 discarded G4 cubes, iSubs and iPods
So, I’m relieved that both my good and bad work evaporates like water into the ether, an imaginary cloud of ex-software that clears space for another generation of apps, neither hurts nor kills. Software is green.
There’s only 1 hitch: I need this Ive-designed Powerbook to accomplish my work and even to write this post. For what it’s worth, I keep all of my Apple gear as mementos for my own history, sparing the environment for awhile.
