Structures: Or Why Things Don't Fall Down

by J.E. Gordon

Nearly everything the eighteenth-century craftsman touched was elegant. This was not just a matter of the luxury trade; it extended right through society.

Another debatable point is ‘Granted that common objects such as Greek amphorae were beautiful in some absolute sense, did the Greeks realize that they were beautiful?’ I am reminded of a remark in a leading article in The Times, which said something like ‘Good typography should be like clean glass – one should be able to see through it without being distracted. But if this is to happen then the typography must have that sort of discreet elegance and beauty which draws no attention to itself.’ I think this is why we only come to appreciate many common artefacts after they have passed out of common daily use. This does not mean that they are not absolutely and permanently beautiful.

What I loved in old Brunei was his expansive taste and his love or ardent sympathy for things he did not understand or had not had time to learn.

Laymen and politicians may create what fantasies they choose, but, for the engineers, ‘It is their care that the gear engages; it is their care that the switches lock.’ Essentially, these people’s stuff must work, and go on working, safely and economically. It may be the engineer’s job to point out that the emperor has no clothes on, but however embarrassing this may be, we clearly need more, not less, of this kind of realism.

With regard to this question of functionalism and ‘efficiency’ Nature seems to have a sense of humour, or perhaps just a sense of proportion. She will construct the stem of a plant, for instance, with the uttermost regard for metabolic economy; the thing is a miracle of structural efficiency. Having done this, she will put a great big flower on top – for fun, as far as one can see. In the same way, peacocks have tails and girls have hair which cannot be considered strictly functional.

I doubt if the refinements of technical performance really improve appearance very much. Very often it is the other way round; the pursuit of the last ounce of performance results in a boring appearance, as one can see in modern yachts.

I am reminded of the Irish yachtsman’s remark:’ An ugly ship is no more attractive than an ugly woman -however fast she may be’.

Is it not fair to ask the technologist, not only to provide artefacts which work, but also to provide beauty, even in the common street, and, above all, to provide fun! Otherwise technology will die of boredom.

It is confidence that causes accidents and worry which prevents them. So go over your sums not once or twice but again and again and again.