A couple of interesting articles related to design and ergonomics in the past week:
-Businessweek had a blurb on Nissan's efforts to design cars for the elderly by wearing a restricting body suit (see image). Although Bw was not the first one to report on this, and in fact other designers have previously developed similar simulation techniques, I really liked this illustration. See, "How to Drive Like and Old Guy" fourth image in slideshow.
-In an unrelated piece, The New Yorker magazine featured an article "Up and Then Down: The lives of elevators", While intrinsically interesting to anyone who rides elevators, ergonomists and designers will find the discussion of "proxemics" particularly fascinating from both psychological and anthropometric perspectives:
-Businessweek had a blurb on Nissan's efforts to design cars for the elderly by wearing a restricting body suit (see image). Although Bw was not the first one to report on this, and in fact other designers have previously developed similar simulation techniques, I really liked this illustration. See, "How to Drive Like and Old Guy" fourth image in slideshow.
-In an unrelated piece, The New Yorker magazine featured an article "Up and Then Down: The lives of elevators", While intrinsically interesting to anyone who rides elevators, ergonomists and designers will find the discussion of "proxemics" particularly fascinating from both psychological and anthropometric perspectives:
"Bodies need to fit. Designers of public spaces have devised a maximum average unit size—that is, they’ve figured out how much space a person takes up, and how little of it he or she can abide. The master fitter is John J. Fruin, the author of “Pedestrian Planning and Design,” which was published in 1971 and reprinted, in 1987, by Elevator World, the publisher of the leading industry magazine, Elevator World. (Its January issue came with 3-D glasses, for viewing its best-new-elevator-of-the-year layout, of the Dexia BIL Banking Center, in Luxembourg.) Fruin introduced the concept of the “body ellipse,” a bird’s-eye graphic representation of an individual’s personal space. It’s essentially a shoulder-width oval with a head in the middle. He employed a standard set of near-maximum human dimensions: twenty-four inches wide (at the shoulders) and eighteen inches deep. If you draw a tight oval around this figure, with a little bit of slack to account for body sway, clothing, and squeamishness, you get an area of 2.3 square feet, the body space that was used to determine the capacity of New York City subway cars and U.S. Army vehicles. Fruin defines an area of three square feet or less as the “touch zone”; seven square feet as the “no-touch zone”; and ten square feet as the “personal-comfort zone.” Edward Hall, who pioneered the study of proxemics, called the smallest range—less than eighteen inches between people—“intimate distance,” the point at which you can sense another person’s odor and temperature. As Fruin wrote, “Involuntary confrontation and contact at this distance is psychologically disturbing for many persons.”