The fascination of philosophers, artists, theoreticians, and architects with human body size dates back many centuries. In the only complete treatise on architecture surviving from antiquity, Vitruvius, who lived in 1st century B.C. Rome, wrote:
For the human body is so designed by nature that the face, from the chin to the top of the forehead and the lowest roots of the hair, is a tenth part of the whole height; the open hand from the wrist to the tip of the middle finger is just the same; the head from the chin to the crown is an eighth, and with the neck and shoulder from the top of the breast to the lowest roots of the hair is a sixth; from the middle of the breast to the summit of the crown is a fourth. If we take the height of the face itself, the distance from the bottom of the chin to the underside of the nostrils is one third of it; the nose from the underside of the nostrils to a line between the eyebrows is the same; from there to the lowest roots of the hair is also a third, comprising the forehead. The length of the foot is one sixth of the height of the body; of the forearm, one fourth; and the breadth of the breast is also one fourth. The other members, too, have their own symmetrical proportions, and it was by employing them that the famous painters and sculptors of antiquity attained to great and endless renown.
… Then again, in the human body the central point is naturally the navel. For if a man be placed flat on his back, with his hands and feet extended, and a pair of compasses centred at his navel, the fingers and toes of his two hands and feet will touch the circumference of a circle described therefrom. And just as the human body yields a circular outline, so too a square figure may be found from it. For if we measure the distance from the soles of the feet to the top of the head, and then apply that measure to the outstretched arms, the breadth will be found to be the same as the height as in the case of plane surfaces which are perfectly square.1
Not only was Vitruvius concerned with proportions of the body, but with their metrological implications. In alluding to Greek temple design he tells us, “Moreover, they collected from members of the human body the proportionate dimensions which appear necessary in all building operations, the finger or inch, the palm, the foot, the cubit.2
During the Middle Ages, Dionysius, monk of Phourna of Agrapha, wrote of man’s body size as “nine heads tall,”3 and Cennino Cennini, a 15th-century Italian, described the length of a man as equal to his width with arms extended.4 During the Renaissance, Leonardo da Vinci created his famous drawing of the human figure, based on the Vitruvian norm-man (Figure I-1). In the mid-19th century John Gibson and J. Bonomi were also to reconstruct the Vitruvian figure (Figure I-2), and later, more than 2000 years after Vitruvius wrote his ten books on architecture, Le Corbusier was to revive interest in the Vitruvian norm with his creation of Modular No. 1 (Figure I-3).
No discussion of body size and proportion, however, would be complete without mention of the so-called Golden Section, the name given in the 19th century to the proportion derived from the divisions of a line into what Euclid in 300 B.C. Greece called “extreme and mean ratio.”5 According to Euclid, a line is cut in such a ratio only when the “whole line is to the greater segment, so is the greater to the less.” Although three terms, at least, are required for any proportion, what is unique about the Golden Section is that the third term of the proportion is equal to the sum of the other two.
So fascinating was this notion of the Golden Section that in the early part of the 16th century, Luca Paccoli, a close friend of Leonardo and probably the most famous mathematician of the time, wrote a book about it called Divina Proportione6 (divine proportion) in which he endowed the Golden Section with many varied mystical properties in both science and art. He contended, for example, that he could detect “an aesthetic principle which is found in architectural forms, in the human body, and even in the letters of the Latin alphabet.”7
It has been claimed that the proportion of the so-called Golden Section is far superior to all other proportions. Actual experiments are said to indicate a preference, on the part of most people, for those proportions closest to Euclid’s extreme and mean ratio. While it was employed as a conscious element in architectural design during the Renaissance, the architecture of antiquity, as well as that of the Middle Ages, may also have been designed according to the proportion of the Golden Section. More recently, its most enthusiastic supporter was Le Corbusier, who in 1948 wrote a book dealing with proportions based on it.
The most fascinating observation about the Golden Section, however, involves the human figure. If a horizontal line is drawn through the navel, three different body measurements are produced, as illustrated in Figure I-4. One represents stature, or the distance from the top of the head to the floor. Another represents the distance from the navel to the floor, while the third represents the distance from the top of the head to the navel. It is contended that if actual measurements are substituted for the letters indicated, the ratio of stature to the height of the navel above the floor usually approximates 1.618. The proportion of the three measurements conforms fairly closely to Euclid’s extreme and mean ratio.
Despite Vitruvius’s attempts to relate the human body to the system of measurements employed by the Greeks in the design of temples, humanity’s basic concern with the human figure historically has been more aesthetic than metrological, more involved with proportion than with absolute measurements and function. Over the last several decades, however, concern for human dimensions and body size, as critical factors in the design process, has steadily increased. Nowhere has this concern been greater than in the field of human factors engineering, as it is called in the United States, or ergonomics, as it is referred to in Europe. It should be noted, however, that concern for body size is only one of several areas of interest to the human factors engineer, or ergonomist, due to the extremely complex nature of those disciplines. According to one definition, “human engineering (human factors engineering, ergonomics, biotechnology) is not a single scientific discipline but a synthesis which integrates the biological sciences—psychology, anthropology, physiology, and medicine—with engineering.”8
Ergonomics has been defined in one instance as “the technology of work design” that “is based on the human biological sciences: anatomy, physiology and psychology.”9 In another instance, it is defined more simply as “an interdisciplinary science which studies the relationships between people and their environments.”10 Most agree that both terms “human engineering” and “ergonomics” may be used interchangeably, and during the course of this book, both terms will be so used.
The application of human factors engineering has been typically associated with highly complex and limited technological problems in machine and equipment design. The problems have usually involved relatively sophisticated man-machine interface situations: the design of control centers, aircraft cockpits, electronic consoles, and endless numbers and types of military air, ground, and sea vehicles. Yet today human factors engineering relates to the civilian sector as well. The design of consumer products, work environments, transportation vehicles, to name a few, all require human factors input.
The field was given enormous impetus during the Second World War due to the compelling need to reconcile human capabilities with the technological sophistication of military equipment. The possibility of human error had to be eliminated. Equipment had to be operated at maximum efficiency under the most trying of circumstances. Problems facing the ergonomist ranged in complexity from a simple control, such as the push button, to complicated console designs for use under battle conditions. More recently, the ergonomist has had to cope with physiological, psychological, and anthropometric (the study of human body measurement, which will be thoroughly discussed in Part A) aspects of design problems inherent in space travel. Of greatest significance, however, was the basic realization and acceptance of the idea that consideration of human factors constituted an integral part of the design process.
Among the most important of these human factors is body size and dimension as it relates to the so-called ergonomic fit, or the ergofitting, of the user to the environment—one aspect of the so-called man-machine interface to which the ergonomist constantly alludes.
Most applications of human engineering have, in fact, been in the industrial and military sectors. Unfortunately, the more mundane applications, such as those found in the design of the interior spaces within our homes, offices, health facilities, schools, etc., have been relatively ignored. This is particularly ironic since much of the underlying philosophy of human engineering is based on the premise that everything is designed for people. Where else can the concept of “designing from the man, out” make more sense than in the field of architecture and interior design?
It is the purpose of this book, therefore, to focus on the anthropometric aspects of ergonomics and to apply the related data to the design of interior spaces. The application will take the form of anthropometrically oriented design reference standards structured to ensure a proper ergofitting of people to the interior environments in which they may live, work, or play. These interior environments are all utilized by individuals of varying body sizes, weight, age, and physical condition. On a global basis, users may also reflect a wide range of races, cultures, and ethnic backgrounds.
Despite the variables involved, however, the interface between the user and the designed interior environment, or ergofit, must ensure comfortable, safe, and efficient enjoyment of that environment. Work surface heights in a kitchen, office, or home workshop; allowances for seating around a dining or conference table; heights for shelves in an apartment or library; corridor widths in a home or public building—all must reflect the human factor of body size. In certain situations, we are, for a number of reasons, required to design for a large mixed user population. At the other extreme, we may be obligated to design for a single user. In still other situations, the user may constitute a specific group—young children, elderly people, college students, physically disabled people, etc. It is obvious that if we are to respond responsibly and sensitively to the design needs of the user, we must become more aware of the metrology of body size and its ergonomic implications.