rockpaperink

June 29, 2012

Round Thermostat

Henry Dreyfuss Associates and Carl Kronmiller for Honeywell, 1953

Authors: William Lidwell, Gerry Manacsa

A critical but rarely discussed aspect of real-world product design is persuasion. Great product designers have historically been great pitchmen — from Raymond Lowey to Philippe Starck — able to excite and educate clients about design, which then empowers the client leadership to bring their revolutionary products to market. Henry Dreyfuss was no exception to this rule, and it was likely his influence with Harold W. Sweatt, president of Honeywell, that actualized a project Dreyfuss had been thinking about since the introduction of his round Big Ben clocks in 1939: a round thermostat. He observed that rectangular thermostats, which were the only form factor available at the time, always appeared crooked when mounted on walls. A round thermostat would solve this problem. Dreyfuss, known for his napkin-based doodling during conversations — in particular, he enjoyed practicing drawing perfect circles — began discussing the possibility of a round thermostat with Sweatt in 1940. Later that same year, in a discussion between Sweatt and Honeywell engineer Carl Kronmiller, the seed for developing a round thermostat would be sown. Carl Hoyt, Honeywell employee, comments: "H.W. [Harold W. Sweatt] came to [Carl Kronmiller's] area one day in 1940, sat down at his desk, and they talked about products. Carl told H.W., 'We need a radically new thermostat. Why can't we make something a lot different from our competitors' models and different from our own thermostats?' Carl told me as they talked, H.W. picked up a piece of paper and started drawing circles on it. Then he handed the paper to Carl and said, 'Here. Go ahead and make something of it.'" The seed would take over a decade to bear fruit, but the round thermostat would come to define Honeywell product design for the next fifty years. The product, marketed as the "Honeywell Round," was an aesthetic leap over the staid rectilinear thermostats of the time. Its small round form appealed to women, and not only did it satisfy Dreyfuss' issue of never appearing incorrectly oriented, the cover of the thermostat could be easily removed and painted to blend with the wall. It was the first thermostat to consider the interior design of the home. The red arrow indicates the current temperature. The black arrow, which is fixed to the transparent plastic dial, is rotated to the desired temperature. The dial is the only movable element, and its serrated perimeter clearly affords turning. The display is less refined, as it is not immediately evident what the red and black arrows mean — which is the setting and which is the temperature? It is interesting to note that Dreyfuss' patent sketches represent temperature using a somewhat familiar crescent-shaped mercury thermometer, eliminating the confusion by representing room temperature and the temperature setting in visually distinct ways. Temperature is roughly marked in two-degree increments because the accuracy of the thermostat's spiral wound thermometer was poor. This low fidelity created problems when the black arrow was precisely aligned with the red arrow, because the actual temperature could be plus or minus several degrees — the represented accuracy of the thermostat did not match the functional accuracy of the thermostat, and the product was often perceived to be defective as a result. Later models moved the thermometer to the bottom of the dial, such that the temperature-setting scale was on top and the thermometer scale was on the bottom. This change eliminated the possibility of ever seeing the arrows in precise alignment, and correspondingly eliminated the reports of the thermostat's being defective.

Don Emmite

Design History A great design for an otherwise ordinary product, this classic never went out of production. The round form and eased edges are pleasing to the eye and tactually satisfying along with the fact there are no protruding switches disturbing the simplicity. I love the way the adjustment dial is "built-in" to look like it is merely a decorative element.

David Knaub

Mechanical Engineering

The crisp seams on the recent plastic versions are kind of jarring to those who know the sensual rolled edges on the original metal versions. The limitations of the metal forming processes actually added to the unified beauty of the original. It was ironic to touch a cool feeling metal housing to turn down the heat. One would expect the device to feel too warm if the room was too warm. Now, it's ironic to touch a warm-feeling plastic housing to turn up the heat.

James Mueller

Industrial Design

Setting aside that newer designs can vastly improve conservation of fuel, there is something to be said for intuitive designs like this one. But I've often wondered why they never made it easier to read; many models had silver numerals on a silver background.

Rob Tannen

Human Factors

Beyond aesthetic sensibility, presenting the temperature on a semicircular, rather than straight line, gives visual emphasis to the middle area of the range. Although it is subtle, contemporary designers might consider this graphic emphasis in guiding user behavior, particularly in the context of energy-consuming devices.

Source: Deconstructing Product Design

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