Jim Northover

It was not so long ago, although it seems like a lifetime away, the UK was celebrating design and its contribution to the economy and cultural life of the country. Attending a reception at Buckingham Palace exactly six years ago today was evidence enough to me that design had both an influence and a power base.

Now design is on the defensive again, mainly due to the fact that current Government policy has virtually by-passed it from an educational point of view. With science, technology, engineering and mathematics being privileged over the arts and humanities, design finds itself, oddly, on the wrong side of the line. The whole future of design hinges to a large extent on its ability to be a bridge linking the traditionally imagined dichotomy between arts and sciences. There is an intrinsic absurdity in separating the 'two cultures', a debate that Snow and Leavis had long ago and is no longer relevant in the current century.

It has been widely reported that the creative industries come only second to finance as the major contributor to the economy, and that in the worlds of architecture, fashion and interaction design UK is one of the global leaders. This not to downgrade the strength of our engineering, bio-science and digital technology sectors, but merely to highlight that design, however you define it, still makes an impact for Britain, working as it does in sectors such as these. A recent survey in the Evening Standard named several designers, arts and media folk as key influencers in London, along with a handful of politicians, one retailer, one banker and no industrialists. The same publication also reported last week that one economist at a leading bank had identified three components that contribute to growth: cash, commodities and creativity. As the Standard's reporter Anthony Hilton commented, the UK is noticeably short on the first two components, so it's creativity that counts.

Perhaps some good things will emerge from the Government's scaling back of support for design education and the design sector. If that does happen, then it would be evidence of creativity in itself - doing more with less. However, a more likely outcome is that design education will be driven into the arms of the corporate world for financial support, sponsorship and resources. No doubt, a 'real life' injection might be beneficial, but, equally, objectivity will be compromised. That's inevitable. Likewise, with the Design Council: its new charitable status may throw up interesting and productive linkages, freeing it from its pact with the Government, but these are uncharted territories and it will need great clarity of purpose if it is to make a successful transition.

In the meantime, the implications for design are not auspicious. Perhaps one day there will be recognition that design can be a central part of our sustainable development as a nation, and one that connects the creative and critical spirits of the 'arts' with the objectivity and pragmatism of the 'sciences'. I look forward to the day when the penny will drop. We may need another royal reception to celebrate it!

Completing a post-graduate degree in Design Writing Criticism has taken up most of the summer and beyond. In 2008 I joined the first part-time group on the first course of its kind in Europe. For me it was an experiment and a leap in the dark; after all, 40 years separated my graduating in design from the same institution (then London College of Printing) from my enrolment as a post-grad student in October 2008.

Until then it had been virtually impossible to take the time out to do something that needed such a significant level of commitment. However, 'succession planning' had been underway at Lloyd Northover for some time and, by 2008, we had arrived at a point where it became a realistic option for me to engage in something new, while continuing my role as chairman and consultant for the business.

My motivations were mixed: time for a new perspective, the opportunity to 'back-fill' my practice experience with a more theoretical context, a chance to exercise and enhance writing and critical skills, a different kind of challenge. Two years later it's still too early to reflect deeply on the experience, but I know it has helped me to change gear in my working life and to discover some new avenues. Where these might lead, only time will tell, but that is hardly the point. The course was its own justification.

The other day I came across this pencil, one of many we made as part of a Lloyd Northover promotion some time ago. The words seem to encapsulate what design is and does. They still feel right eight years or so later.

This month is a small cause for celebration: three and half decades of design consultancy. There are a few companies around from those days still bearing the same names and still with a founder involved in the business, but not many.

It’s been a rocky ride at times, but the business is still there and it continues to survive and thrive.

It all started back in the sixties when John Lloyd and I were students at what was then the London College of Printing. We graduated in 1968, the ‘soixante huit’ of student unrest, the ‘summer of love’ and all that. It took us till the mid seventies to make the leap and start on our own. Rather like now it was a period of slow economic recovery, and starting anything seemed either brave or stupid, perhaps both.

At the time, anniversaries seemed significant and when we had survived our first year in business we celebrated by opening a bottle or two of champagne, thus starting a tradition. The photo above shows dated corks from the first 15 years’ anniversaries.

After 10 years we started recording anniversaries with the design and distribution of t-shirts to our friends and clients. For some these became collectors’ items, with a few surviving today.

In our 15th year we all flew to Paris for the day – the kind of extravagance that was expected of a successful design group. This photograph records the event. Here we are in front of I M Pei’s newly opened Louvre pyramid. It was a good, and as I remember it, very long day.

Some things come in twos. Partnerships often work best in creative businesses: opposing viewpoints, dynamic tension, complementary skills, integrated teamwork can bring out the best in design. After all it is increasingly accepted that design depends on collaboration more than on individual brilliance.

There are plenty of great design partnerships around today, although writing your name over the door is less usual now. Perhaps it was egotism or simply a sense of professional seriousness that persuaded Wolff Olins, Minale Tattersfield, Sampson Tyrrell, Lewis Moberly, Newell & Sorrell, Carroll & Dempsey, Smith & Milton, Trickett & Webb, Lloyd Northover and others to turn their names into brands.

Their founders have mostly moved on or re-formed, their companies sometimes absorbed, the names changed, and little recognition of the originals survive. Some companies are also life partnerships as well as professional ones. Others have moved into second-generation management. Nothing stands still, least of all the partners themselves. A look at the images of John and Jim below, in 1975 and again 30 years later, demonstrates the effects of time and the endurance of friendship.

Going to see Enron in London’s West End last week was to witness an acerbic indictment of corporate excess and self-delusion. As the play pointed out, we all bear some responsibility for the way the corporate world has frequently lost sight of its reason for being.

However, there was a time when Enron looked like a company going places and innovating. It commissioned Paul Rand, one of the most respected corporate designers of his generation, to design the logo and identity for the company.

Today that logo comes readymade as the identity for the play itself, liberally used on all promotional material and signing. I wondered who now owns the rights to that piece of intellectual property. No doubt Rand cheerfully assigned the rights to the company once he was paid for his work. Today the company no longer exists. The brand is ‘worthless’. But for play’s promoters it’s a useful piece of identity nevertheless.

Beckley, East Sussex December 2009

Viennese café society remains pretty much unchanged. Smoky, friendly, relaxed, homely, unreconstructed places. Good places for drinking, talking, reading, watching.