
After reading
Henry Petroski's article in today's New York Times Magazine, "Bridging the Gap," I found myself getting caught up in one of my favorite lines of thought: the relationship between form and function. One familiar relational construct is "form follows function." And it's a popular one --
a Google search for the phrase "form follows function" retrieves almost one quarter of a million results. But can the converse also be true? Is it possible that function can also follow form?
If you were to ask
David Nye, I think his answer would be an emphatic "Yes!" I'm currently reading his
"Technology Matters: Questions to Live With", and am reminded about the discussion of Thomas Edison and the phonograph in the chapter, "Is Technology Predictable?" Apparently, Edison and his colleagues came up with the following illustrative potential commercial uses for their new invention: speaking doll & other toys, speaking clock, advertisements, calling out directions, delivering lectures. At the end of a long list, and seemingly almost an afterthought, "a musical instrument." The point? Sometimes it's the last application of a technology you think of, or one you didn't even imagine, that catches on and organically becomes the most successful. And I realize now that I have a decent, very low-tech example of this "function follows form" dynamic.
My wife is growing tomatoes in a pot on our back deck. The plant seems to be growing quite well: it's rather tall and we're already seeing a number of tomatoes. The challenge? How do we stabilize the plant under the weight of its fruit? The solution? A wooden dowel, anchored in the soil, placed along the edge of the pot to bypass roots and get support, and positioned deliberately so as to provide support to the plant without requiring it to be tied down. The plant, pot and dowel are all forms with specific pre-existing functions: to reproduce; to hold soil and grow plants; and (commonly) to be cut into small pins that reinforce joints and support shelves. But given their current forms, the functions became: to grow branches at specific points and angles; to anchor a wooden dowel; and to support a rapidly growing tomato plant. Here's what it looks like...

And now, if I think back to my Introduction to Biology course in my Freshman year at Villanova University 18 years ago, this question of the relationship between form and function was raised in the very first few weeks. I have always remembered it this way: in biology, form follows function. Luckily for me, I still have the textbook,
Neil Campbell's Biology (2nd Edition). What is actually written? In "The Correlation of Structure and Function" section of the first chapter: "Form fits function." I'd like to think that Campbell, in using the term "fits" rather than "follows," was implying that the relationship was not necessarily unidirectional; that, like pieces of a puzzle, both are required to complete the picture and neither can really be elevated to the point that one is dependent upon the other.