"The urge for good design is the same urge as the urge to go on living." - Harry Bertoia

Two months ago, soon after an unusually mesmerizing fireworks display at Auditorium Shores had closed with its final shot, I found myself stranded in a sea of mothers, fathers, and children, caked in sweat from the Texas heat with lawn chairs over their shoulders, shuffling to return home. No automobiles were allowed for miles and cell phone connections were jammed. I dispersed slowly along with the stream of other celebrators across the Congress bridge toward the lights of downtown Austin. Wandering among the boutiques and wealthy shoppers with their daughters in Sunday dress, I felt like I was misplaced in another world. And then I found the above quote printed on the glass wall of a design boutique and suddenly I felt reoriented by the truth and simplicity of the designer's message.

It reawakened in me the memories I kept from my two-year adventure in Japan. I arrived as a 12-year old American boy and left with an imprint of a culture with a unique sense of design. I believe the general atmosphere of Japanese design truly embodies Henry Dreyfuss' idea that "if people are made safer, more comfortable, more eager to purchase, more efficient, or just happier, the designer has succeeded." While there are many fascinations in Japan to choose from, when people ask me about the experience, more often than not, I will recall for them the phenomenon that is the Japanese toilet.

Installed in more than 72% of households in Japan (thanks, Wikipedia), it is a toilet that considers more than just the consumer's need to sit and flush. The advanced toilet is equipped with a control pad for its many helpful features. The heating option allows the user to set the warmth of the toilet seat at many different levels, which, speaking from experience, is quite key during harsh winters. Some, though not all toilets, will play soothing music to accompany your business handling and automatically flush after you’re done. The deodorization option will clear the air after use, and the bidet option allows the user to electronically control a jet stream of water that washes and cleans your area after an especially messy session. Although I never personally witnessed the following features, some Japanese toilets boast germ-resistant surfaces, a soft close feature that prevents the slamming of the toilet seat down, air conditioning around the seat for those hot summer days, and sensors that detect when you are facing away to take a seat on the toilet (in which case the toilet lid will automatically open) and when you are facing the toilet (Both the lid and seat are automatically raised).

While the western world may think of using the restroom as a fairly no-nonsense process without room for improvement, Japanese design proves that even a basic toilet can be designed to empower its user, a key principle to keep in mind when considering design ideas. Like other Japanese products, the toilet is designed with the intention of bettering lives, even when consumers don’t realize how their lives could be bettered by a different kind of product. While the selection of the toilet’s features is fairly large, it is presented in a highly user-friendly way. Depending on your needs, the toilet’s features are only a button click away from the seat. The neatly designed control pad fulfills another key design principle – simplicity. Since no individual is excluded from the need to use toilets, it has been imagined with the majority of people in mind, and its widespread use among households is a testament to the fulfilling of this principle. It isn’t difficult to imagine the designers behind this product focusing on the safety, comfort, and happiness of the user while creating what has become a nearly universal household need.

Bertoia’s quote resonated with me especially because I had seen up-close and had my life improved by that very same urge for good design. When I shared this quote with some friends later on, I was met with a great deal of indifference and a few differences of opinion. But, really, if your urge to go on living isn’t motivated by the hope of improving your life or other lives (as it is so in the case of good design), why even bother?