In a recent issue of the Observer newspaper a svelte young Chinese woman is pictured buffing the grill of a Rolls Royce, a British design no doubt destined to be snapped up by one of her nouveau riche countrymen. Juxtaposed with this is an image of a building worker, shown in classic skyscraper-age style stepping out hundreds of metres in the air on a steel building frame, set against a skyline burgeoning with tributes to China’s progress. This spectre of a billion strong ‘workshop of the world’ is haunting the US and Europe, and putting the fear of God into environmentalists and advocates of sustainable design.

In the last decade the discussion of sustainability, and other supra-design issues, has clearly come to dominate design debate in the world’s advanced economies. It is a key agenda item for organisations and publications including the Design Council, AIGA, D&AD, Doors of Perception, the RSA, Metropolis magazine, and, the most recent convert, Design Week. What is less clear is: why now?

This debate gained traction well before the People’s Republic Inc. became a business media pin-up, and a poster child for unsustainable growth. In fact, it was kick-started after the energy crisis of the 70s, at a time when economic progress in the major world economies was constrained in comparison to the immediate post-War period, and slothful when held up against the classic periods of industrial development.

And why does design for sustainability pre-occupy so many contemporary design thinkers and doers, when their equally smart predecessors chose to apply their intellects to improving design theory, methods, and practice, and donate their skills to more tangible political and social issues?

Many designers consider their job to be a vocation, and one through which they can improve people’s lives. This is a positive attitude, and one that should be lauded in our age of (understandable) political indifference. However, as the life has been sucked out of discussion and debate about the theory and practice of design, concerns about sustainability, ethics, and other imported subjects, have rushed in to fill the void.

The sincerity of designers leaders’ adoption of the sustainability agenda in design would be more convincing if, in the design world, we had ever had an honest and objective debate on the subject, informed by the proper use of statistics, and with reference to substantial theories about resources and productivity. In reality, we uncritically took the concept on board, without ever intellectually critiquing it. When our clients expect us to think ‘outside the box’ and ‘look sideways’ at problems, we owe it to ourselves to apply these principles to our discussions of design theory.

Moreover, the presentation of the case for sustainability is often more emotional than rational. We are sold images of familiar domestic detritus piling up in landfills which, though they are aesthetically unpleasing for sure, don’t constitute an argument. In fact, if we look at the figures we find that, for instance, in 1998/99 domestic waste in the UK made up less than ten percent of overall waste. The disposable materials that most offend are plastics, but those approved for use in the home will be just as harmless to us when they are buried.

Irrespective of the trends and arguments that have informed the sustainable design movement, sustainability itself is a very un-ambitious philosophy, and one which tends to assume the worst – a very contemporary trait. Its most pessimistic proponents essentially argue that we should stick at our current level of consumption, or even reduce our living standards.

On what basis would one calculate the optimal level of consumption for the human race? The factors in this calculation are rarely examined. In reality, the key variable is us. As humans we design our environment to best suit our lives, and in this process we seek to optimise the things we find around us. At its most conscious level we call these processes innovation and design, and their successes free us to engage in higher pursuits. We have the leisure to debate sustainability today because our predecessors’ mastery of innovation and risk helped create a society of previously unimaginable culture and wealth.

If, today, we ought to be particularly worried about securing the future of humanity, we should demand that businesses and governments invest in some serious, long-term research and development. In designland we should become more familiar with developments in science and technology. And, crucially, we should facilitate the integration of design with real innovation, of the kind that leverages people’s power and abilities, and improves their lives. This is hard work, and lacks the kudos that attaches to championing more ephemeral causes, but it is sorely needed.

We also need to sustain the understanding that our ability to solve problems, and to design better ways to improve our lives, is key to our humanity. This has to be combined with ambition, and today China is its best exemplar. If it can sustain its growth based on innovation it will pull a sixth of the planet out of poverty. And if the people of China succeed, may they all have the chance to drive Rolls Royces.