Living with Complexity is an unfocused, incoherent, and redundant mess. The thesis statement presented by Bud Peterson in the foreword - what he thinks this book is about - is only applicable to the first few chapters and the last two. The rest seem like an old crank's ramshackle observations borne from a designer's penchant for exacting fussiness. Occasionally the examples are spot-on: unsightly wires connecting to a poorly-located outlet in the center of a conference room, and other times they are downright wrong. Norman praises the open layout of a bank for its so-called customer focus, even though it blatantly ignores bank customers' preference for privacy, a discomfort with overheard conversation about ones' personal finances, and lastly, this design is meant for people who are able to stand and is therefore discriminatory toward the wheelchair-bound. No wonder the other banks condemned this layout. Norman thinks the banks are wrong, though to avoid a lawsuit for shitty and unfair layout, and there are many moments like this where Norman simply refuses to think things through.
Another is his total confusion as to why certain social signifiers in dinner etiquette - where to put what silverware and how to drape one's napkin - are so mystifying. He chalks it up to some sort of happenstance lack of public awareness, and completely misses the OBVIOUS point that these protocols are purposefully obscured so as to signal whether or not a person has social status or class. Certain signals given between people are meant to draw those socio-economic boundaries or, if not that, then a very narrow in-group/out-group dynamic. This is the low-hanging fruit of social psychology, and Norman doesn't even acknowledge it. It's a glaring omission in his chapter on social signifiers.
Norman fails to get the joke when an engineer says, "If only we didn't have all these people around, our machines would work just fine" (114). Clearly a wry remark, a brief aside oozing with dry wit, yet Norman sees this as a sincere remark, a harbinger of tone-deaf design that is causing the encroaching apocalypse at the hands of callous misanthropes. He takes an inside joke in a program as a condescending threat in the same chapter. And while he's condemning patient care and a hospital's knack for measurable qualities over human qualities, he fails to analyze this problem or really chronicle what his perfectly-designed hospital would look like. He fails to acknowledge why his rudimentary examples (the Apple iPod, a TurboTax that lets you skip sections at will) are great examples: they are, by nature, not complex. The overwhelming amount of necessary measurements on top of immeasurable qualities in patient care without a doubt create a severely complex system. This much Norman acknowledges, but he is not audacious enough to outline a hospital that may be designed in the manner he adulates. I wonder if it's because he knows it's not enough, or that maybe in his narrow scope of vision of door signs and campus lawns he doesn't have the answer. Nor that does he acknowledge that people are trying to make health care simpler (see: Phreesia).
And boy does Norman jump the ship on explaining things that merit explanation. After this quote: "The 'sameness' hypothesis is only sustainable if one ignores the internal meanings that people assign to cultural innovations." (196) There are no examples after; the section simply ends at this. The section about how design could or could not address if not shift firmly-rooted cultural practice is about six pages long and ends with little explained. This is a pattern in Living with Complexity: Norman presents mind-numbingly simple examples about a problem (e.g., the Disneyland "fast pass" when it comes to waiting in line) and then lines his credo with obvious statements (e.g. design ought to be human-oriented, simple things can be made complicated, it's important that people perceive fairness in how they are treated). But once he has the opportunity to analyze those simple things into complicated things, he abbreviates the discussion or sidesteps it altogether. A brilliant page about Ockham's Razor is cut short after the whole tenet is tossed aside. His discussion of cognitive dissonance is, at my most generous, a sloppy introduction (210). He goes on to praise the virtue of checklists, but doesn't address why checklists aren't the be-all/end-all of problem-solving. This is a critique that has existed since Charles Perrow's Normal Accidents decades prior, not to mention how checklists can easily turn into fantasy documents, or how health and safety inspectors are liable to become so primed by checklists that they may succumb to a sort of habit-formed myopia and fail to see nuanced findings in their inspections. He doesn't address another low-hanging fruit - moral hazard - in these situations at all. Why does Norman choose to make some topics more complex, but not others? There's not much of an answer beyond that this was clearly a hastily-written rehash job.
Norman's book also suffers from the same platitudes as Tim Brown's Change by Design does: so-called home runs like "In many cases, the best way to simplify a task is to reconceptualize it" sort of sound promising but still beckon for more meaning (231). That is, when his book doesn't outright contradict itself. On 255, he writes that oftentimes salespeople are too biased to sell a well-designed product: "they couldn't get the salespeople to sell the phones. They weren't cool." Norman answers this question earlier in the book: not only are people bad judges of what they want, but things are more sellable to people generally if they possess features. So even if a design crew creates a Norman-approved phone to address peoples' needs, it might pain Norman to know that a phone created by the Creed of Norman doesn't abide something he already knows about the same people: "Features win over simplicity, even when people realize that features mean more complexity" (55). So which is it, Norman? Is it the bias of the sales force that deters consumers from buying a simple product? Or is it what you said previously in your book? Or is it that humans are contradictory and will give primed responses that don't necessarily reflect their needs based on the context in which the question or the need is presented? How did this pass an edit?
Outside of these glaring issues in continuity, Living with Complexity is a collection of statements of the obvious about the mundane. Toilet paper, wires, doors, you name it. This may very well ruin my ability to read a much better book, The Design of Everyday Things. What a purposeless chore of a book.