The authors say it best on the first page: they are not architects, carpenters, or chicken experts. In fact, they have little experience with chickens at all. Instead they call themselves "makers," born out of the Silicon Valley mindset of attempting to reinvent something while contributing nothing new. And, in this case, the end result is even worse.
First and foremost, this is geared toward the urban backyard. Many of the coop designs they present would scarcely fit two hens, and in all but the warmest regions of the US would require bringing your kitchens in house to live during the winter months. Sure, they acknowledge this, but it doesn't bode well for the idea of publishing a book that "reinvents" something when its use is rather limited in geographic and practical scope.
But really, these coops are hardly good for chickens anywhere. Besides the lack of space, there is no mention of food or where to put it. The only mention of water is in the coop design that collects rainwater from the roof into a watering bowl on the inside. That coop, by the way, has walls made almost entirely of hardware cloth with very little roof overhang—that way, in a good soaking downpour, any part of the coop not fully wetted by rain blowing through the walls would be flooded by an overflowing watering bowl.
If you're looking for any information on chicken welfare in general, or in designing a coop with the chickens in mind, the one piece of information they provide—a chart on ideal square footage per bird—is lifted straight from Gail Damerow's book.
Even considering that the coops aren't really designed with birds in mind, what's worse is that they're poorly designed in the first place. There's a coop that is shaped like a set of stairs with the stated idea that it could be a "gathering place." But the only support for the stair treads are sheets of plywood that also make up the walls. There's no stringer, no vertical frame members. If that coop became a "gathering place" for the chicken owners, they would quickly have some very flat chickens.
But say you, the reader, decide that you actually do like one of the coops and want to build it. At that point you'd find that the designs are accompanied only with perspective drawings that often lack key measurements (some lack measurements altogether). There are no overall layouts or elevations. The construction is a mix of over-engineered joinery, such as you might find in cabinetmaking, and a lack of attention to the parts of the coop that are actually bearing weight. There is ample description on how to mortise a door jamb for a hinge (in a chicken coop, remember) but little mention on sealing the cut ends of treated lumber to protect from the elements. The authors have a penchant for plain iron roofing, but decide they "like rust" even though the corners would often be right at about face level for a kid.
Lastly, the designs aren't even presented in a way that's replicable for the entry-level DIY-er. The very first coop, their simplest, calls for a 5' x 10' (!) sheet of steel to be cut up for the roof. Their "suggested tools" list includes a planer but not a table saw. They note that when cutting angles, one shouldn't complicate things, but then they present the angles in designs in convoluted ways (try giving a beginner a miter saw and asking them to cut at 115º). There's no mention of a speed square in the entire book. And of course, of course, there's a coop that's built from a shipping container.
Don't buy this book. The coop designs and commentary are not helpful, not imaginative, not well designed, not thought out, and not informed. Honestly I can't believe that Storey even published it, as they are usually a good resource for this kind of stuff.