The history of Herman Miller, Inc.

and the nature

of emergence "Emergent all the way down"
Hench, Thomas J . Journal of Management History ; Bradford  Vol. 5, Iss. 6,  (1999): 362.

ProQuest document link

ABSTRACT
 
This study examines the nature of emergent, self-organizing systems in the context of the history of Herman Miller,
Inc. This history informs our understanding of emergent systems on two levels: how the dynamic of emergent self-
organization informs our sense of the past; and how it informs our understanding of an emergent, self-organizing
future. This article also recounts a critical period in the development history of Herman Miller, Inc. [PUBLICATION
ABSTRACT]

FULL TEXT
 
Thomas J. Hench: Department of Management, College of Business Administration, University of Wisconsin-La
Crosse, La Crosse, Wisconsin, USA
ACKNOWLEDGMENT: This article is part of a special issue of papers from the 1998 Academy of Management
Annual Meeting of the Management History Division, guest edited by Jane Whitney Gibson.
Introduction
In recent years, growing numbers of business scholars and business practitioners have begun to embrace the
principles of emergent self-organization (ESO) as a new organizing paradigm (Petzinger, 1997; Hamel and
Prahalad, 1996; Pascale, 1996; Rumelt, 1996; Nelson, 1995; Stacey, 1995, 1996; Bridges, 1994; Stewart, 1992;
Hayek, 1988). The argument is often made that in times of continuous change, the principles of ESO provide a
"better" means for organizing than do more traditional, top-down, planning and control (P&C) approaches to
change. But if this is so, it raises important questions concerning the ability of ESO not only to improve our
understanding of the past, but also to inform our understanding of the future. This study of the history of Herman
Miller, Inc. provides a context for answering both of these questions.
In the introductory chapter of A Brief History of Time, Hawking (1988, p. 1) tells the story of a well-known scientist
who gave a public lecture on astronomy. This scientist described the earth's orbit around the sun and how the sun,
in its turn, orbited around the center of an immense collection of stars - the Milky Way. At the end of the lecture, a
little old lady at the back of the room declared, "What you have told us is rubbish. The world is really a flat plate
supported on the back of a giant tortoise." Giving a rather superior smile before replying, this scientist rejoined,
"What is the tortoise standing on?" In an instant the old lady replied, "You're very clever, young man, very clever,
indeed. But it's turtles all the way down."
In a similar manner, we think that the evolution of firms and industries and technologies also are emergent "all the
way down" and seek to examine that premise against the realities of the evolution of Herman Miller, Inc. Mokyr
(1990, p. 8) warns in his acclaimed history of technological change that in a world of hopelessly over-determined
events, many explanations of change are plausible. But which explanation is correct? Mokyr suggests that we
amass enough evidence to show that a given theory is supported as much by facts as it is by logic. The history
presented below does this. It shows that the evidence for emergent self-organization in the history of Herman
Miller is supported both by facts and by logic.

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The logic of emergent self-organization
The differences between the ESO and P&C paradigms are substantial (Gleick, 1987; Capra, 1996). Six
characteristics of ESO systems are of particular interest to this study and are listed below (see especially Waldrop,
1992, pp. 145-7; Holland, 1995, 1998):
- (1) ESO systems comprise a network of autonomous agents interacting in parallel.
- (2) Control in ESO systems is highly dispersed. There is no central controller.
- (3) Order in ESO systems "emerges." It is learned more than imposed or planned.
- (4) ESO systems exist in a world of flux and change; in a world of perpetual novelty and creativity.
- (5) Nonlinearity is fundamental in ESO systems.
- (6) History matters. Evolution in emergent systems is path-dependent. Yesterday and today constrain tomorrow.
Taken together, these six characteristics present a view of change fundamentally different from a planning and
control view of change. Most important, these six characteristics also are clearly evident throughout Herman
Miller's history.
The history of Herman Miller
A company profile - "the providential company"
Herman Miller is a leading multinational manufacturer of furniture: office, residential, and institutional. Formally
founded in 1923, the company can trace its roots back even further - to 1905 - and is one of the most highly
regarded companies in America today. In 1987, Herman Miller placed tenth on Fortune magazine's annual listing of
"America's most admired corporations" and has ranked very favorably nearly every year thereafter. The company
also has been included in all previous editions of Levering and Moskowitz's The 100 Best Companies to Work for in
America, first published in 1983. Further, because of an early commitment to modern design, long-standing
support of important twentieth-century designers, and a continuing string of award-winning product designs,
Herman Miller has become recognized throughout the world as an icon of "good design."
Sometimes a darling of Wall Street (Barrons, October 7, 1985, p. 18), and with 1996 sales of $1.5 billion, Herman
Miller is locked in a see-saw battle for second place in the industry with its "neighbor down the road" Haworth, Inc.
in Holland, Michigan. Herman Miller also is recognized for its pioneering efforts in innovative organizational
practices. The company adopted the Scanlon Plan in 1950 and has distinguished itself both as an outspoken
advocate for participative management and as a company that matches its socially conscious rhetoric with
equally responsible actions.
As a further accolade, Max DePree, a former president and CEO of the company and a son of the founder, D.J.
DePree, is an inductee into Fortune magazine's Business Managers' Hall of Fame. He also has written two popular
bestsellers on the subject of leadership (DePree, 1989; 1992): Leadership Is an Art and Leadership Jazz.
In many ways, Herman Miller epitomizes the essence of "good" management - or so it would appear. But how did
the company arrive at its present state? Was it the result of an all-seeing chief executive who had the ability to plan
and control the company's fortune throughout nearly a century of complex change? Or is there a better, less heroic
explanation of Herman Miller's success? Is there one that "rings right to those who know the details of the field"?
(Nelson, 1995, p. 85). The historical record suggests that there is and that the explanation is "emergent all the way
down."
In the words of Joe Schwartz (interview, May 1994), long-time Herman Miller employee, industry legend, and key
participant in much of the history that follows, "Haven't you heard? Herman Miller is the 'providential' company.
None of this was planned."
The story as usually told
Herman Miller, Inc. had its start in 1905 as a small furniture manufacturer in the strongly religious community of
Zeeland, Michigan. The company, then called the Star Manufacturing Company, and later, the Michigan Star
Manufacturing Company, made traditional bedroom furniture that sold primarily to Sears Roebuck and Company.
Most of the furniture Herman Miller made was "ostentatious beyond belief" (Eppinger, in Caplan, 1976, p. 26),
highly ornate, cumbersome, highly crafted, and hard to make.

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In 1909, a young high school graduate named Dirk Jan DePree - known affectionately throughout his life as "D.J." -
joined this small company as a general office boy. In 1919, D.J. became the president of the company and in 1923,
in league with his father-in-law, Herman Miller, purchased the company and renamed it Herman Miller, Inc.
Initially, sales grew. In 1923, they had stood at $262,000, a respectable but moderate size for a furniture company
in the early 1920s. Over the next two years, sales grew to $377,000 and declined only slightly thereafter for the next
two years. But from 1928 to 1931, sales fell precipitously. By 1931, sales had fallen to $76,000 and D.J. was
convinced his company had "about one year to go before bankruptcy" (DePree, 1986, p. 14; Caplan, 1976, p. 22).
D.J. then did what he always did. He prayed. And his prayers were answered. They were answered in the form of
Gilbert Rohde, a designer who introduced D.J. to "modern" furniture design. This marked an important turning point
for Herman Miller. Under Rohde's influence, D.J. came to see "modern" furniture as a cure for the evils that he
thought plagued the furniture industry (DePree, 1986, pp. 14-15) and dedicated his company to manufacturing only
"modern" furniture designs, thereby escaping almost certain bankruptcy.
On Friday, June 16, 1944, Gilbert Rohde died unexpectedly of a heart attack (New York Times, June 17, 1944, pp. 2,
13), leaving Herman Miller without a guiding designer. Once again, D.J. prayed. And once again, providence
intervened. Enter George Nelson, architect and co-managing editor of Architectural Forum magazine. Nelson
became Herman Miller's director of design and ushered in a new era of growth and prosperity.
For effectively the next 20 years, George Nelson became involved in every aspect of the company. He provided the
company with a new corporate logo, an articulated corporate philosophy, and a coherent marketing strategy. What
is more, he recruited some of the top design talent of the time to work with Herman Miller. These included Charles
and Ray Eames, Isamu Noguchi, Paul Laszlo, and Alexander Girard. As a result, over the next 30 years, the name
Herman Miller became synonymous with "good design," even as the company also became known to many as the
"Eames chair company."
In 1950, Herman Miller again distinguished itself by becoming an early pioneer in participative management
systems. It became a Scanlon company. Over the course of the next half century, the company continued to
distinguish itself in this area and received in 1989, along with Volvo of Sweden, the Carl Bertelsmann Prize for its
"outstanding ideas and promising initiatives" in the dual areas of employee participation and profit-sharing
programs.
Still, by the late 1950s/early 1960s, times and circumstances were changing. The prolific output of many of
Herman Miller's designers was waning. To make matters worse, the company was not financially strong and was
steadily losing ground to its newest design rival, Knoll International. Once again, it was time for providence to
make its presence known.
On a trip to Boulder, Colorado, to visit his son, John, D.J. learned of an "inventor" in Denver who was doing
"interesting work." This was Robert Propst. D.J. arranged to meet with Propst the next day and, as the saying goes,
"the rest is history." D.J. and his son, Hugh, warmed immediately to Propst and recruited him to come to Ann Arbor
to set up a research facility for Herman Miller. This became the famous Herman Miller Research Corporation and
was where Propst "invented" Action Office furniture.
Action Office ushered in a period of unprecedented growth for both Herman Miller and the office furniture industry.
Over the next quarter century, Herman Miller followed the innovative introduction of Action Office furniture with
one award-winning new product design after another: Co-Struc systems (1971), Action Factory systems (1976), the
Ergon chair (1976), the Burdick Group (1980), Equa Seating (1984), Ethospace systems (1984), Ergon 2 (1988), and
the Aeron Chair (1994) - to name only the most prominent of the company's new product designs.
When Herman Miller introduced Action Office II (AO II) in 1968, it had $16 million in sales and 26 different product
lines (Schwartz interview, May 1994). By 1970, sales were $25 million; by 1980, $230 million; and by 1996, $1.5
billion. Curiously, in the early 1960s, Herman Miller was not even considered an "office furniture" manufacture. But
by 1980, it stood second in industry sales, behind Steelcase - where it stands today, tied with Haworth, Inc.
The image presented in this telling of the Herman Miller story is inspiring. It describes what appears to be a
virtuoso integration of providential good luck, deft managerial decision making, "good design," and inspired

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organizational management - themes which many of us would like to believe. They confirm what we hope is "right"
about the world. But such conclusions are based on a very selective telling of the Herman Miller story. Tell the
same story in a little more detail and a very different picture emerges.
Inspiring as the above Herman Miller story is, it also is incomplete. Much has been left out. For instance, where is
the human drama that accompanied each change in the company's fortunes? Or the scale of events and
circumstances that played out along the way? Or the honest but intense differences of opinion that emerged
around each turning point and the "battles" that raged with each change in direction? And where are the
uncertainties that surrounded each tentative step, or the extended time frames across which each of these
changes unfolded? Fill in these missing details and what once looked like the epitome of inspired and enlightened
management begins instead to look uncannily like emergent self-organization.
Of course, this short paper does not pretend to tell the full history of Herman Miller. But details from the three
critical periods in Herman Miller's history that follow do make a compelling case for emergent self-organization.
The first of these periods deals with the founding of the company and the company's embrace of "modern" design
furniture. The second deals with what many describe as a golden age of design for Herman Miller. These were the
years of George Nelson, Charles and Ray Eames, Alexander Girard and others and lasted from approximately 1945
to 1965. The final period occurred from the late 1950s to the early 1970s. This was when Herman Miller changed
from being a "chair" company selling high-end design objects and seating to residential and executive-level office
markets to an "office furniture" company selling office systems furniture to the mass, contract office furniture
market.
A finer grained version
The early years: 1905-1945[1]
The company that D.J. DePree joined in 1909 as a general office boy was tiny. The office consisted of D.J., a
secretary, and "the boss" - presumably Jacob Elenbaas, the majority stakeholder. Typically, D.J. completed his
tasks by noon and spent the remainder of the day doing "other things," such as studying accounting and pursuing
his interest in efficiency studies (Propst, 1978, p. 1).
In 1914, D.J. married Nellie Miller, a local girl whose father, Herman Miller, owned a local clock company that had a
strong regional reputation for quality[2]. Things went reasonably well for the young DePree and by 1919 he had
become president. By then, the company had changed its name to the Michigan Star Furniture Company and was
performing moderately well. But by 1923, in D.J.'s opinion, the majority of the company's stockholders had grown
"neglectful" (DePree, 1986, pp. 11-12; Caplan, 1976, p. 21). Jake Elenbaas's interests had wandered as he had
become intrigued by Texas oil. He was losing interest in the furniture company.
D.J. convinced his father-in-law and C.J. DenHerder to join with him in purchasing 51 percent of the company. D.J.
borrowed most of the money for the transaction from his father-in-law. One of the first things D.J. did was change
the name of the company to Herman Miller. D.J. thought that Michigan Star Furniture Company sounded "corny"
(DePree, 1986, p. 12) and that his father-in-law's name would lend new credibility to the company.
Winning his father-in-law's professional regard, however, would not be as easy as winning the right to use his
father-in-law's name on the company door. Over the years, D.J. guided the company in many directions that D.J.'s
father-in-law thought injudicious and inappropriate (Propst, 1978, p. 2). At a particularly difficult point in 1924,
within a year of purchasing the company, Herman Miller judged his son-in-law "not a money maker" (p. 2). A decade
later, Miller again voiced concerns when D.J. began experimenting with "modern" furniture. In the late 1940s he
objected even more strongly when D.J. wanted to put the radical looking Eames molded plywood chairs into
showrooms that carried the Herman Miller name (Caplan, 1976, p. 44).
Difficult as it must have been to win the professional approval of a demanding father-in-law, this was not the only
problem facing D.J. and Herman Miller, Inc. By the late 1920s and early 1930s, competition within the industry was
fierce and the Great Depression was taking its toll. As noted earlier, by 1930, DePree was convinced his company
was but a year away from bankruptcy.
Given his strong religious convictions, he sought relief through prayer, both from the ravages of the Great

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Depression and from what he considered a series of industry "evils" (DePree, 1986, pp. 14-15; Caplan, 1976, p. 22).
In D.J.'s eyes, these "evils" left furniture manufacturers at almost the complete mercy of furniture brokers and
buyers. According to Caplan's (1976) interviews with D.J., DePree was convinced his company might not survive
unless something could be done to escape the current industry constraints. "I had come to feel that my lot in life,"
said DePree, "was to find a niche in which we could perform and no longer be a fabricator for brokers and buyers.
That was the only plan I ever had" (Caplan, 1976, p. 22).
True to the popular version of the story, D.J.'s prayers were answered when Gilbert Rohde came into Herman
Miller's Grand Rapids showroom on a hot July day in 1930. That was when Rohde introduced DePree to "modern"
furniture design. But this "modern" salvation of the company did not happen as simply or as quickly as the popular
version suggests. Nor was Herman Miller Rohde's first choice of companies to design for. According to DePree,
"[W]e were pretty far down on his list, but nobody else would listen to him" (Caplan, 1976, p. 24). There were good
reasons for this. To begin with Rohde was an unknown entity. He was 36 years old and had spent his early career
in advertising and display design (New York Times, June 17, 1944, pp. 2, 13). He was only then entering the field of
industrial design and had very limited furniture design experience. And what limited experience Rhode had all
ended in "close-outs" (Caplan, 1976, p. 24).
Further, Rohde was asking $1,000 for his design services. This was three to four times higher than the usual fee for
design work (DePree, 1986, p. 15; Caplan, 1976, p. 26). But what Rohde lacked in design experience he more than
made up for in a compelling design philosophy. This was what rang true to D.J. In the end, DePree agreed to pay
Rohde a 3 percent royalty on all furniture sales after the furniture had been sold. As DePree later explained, "This
was a sound arrangement. How could we lose on that?" (DePree, 1986, p. 15).
D.J. asked Rohde to design a group of "modern" furniture for Herman Miller. However, D.J. was not at all
encouraged initially by what he saw. The furniture looked as if it had been designed in a manual training school;
and D.J. indicated to Rohde as much. Rohde responded politely. He explained why the furniture was designed as it
was and why, if Herman Miller wished to produce it, it would have to be produced exactly that way. Though wary,
DePree agreed to proceed. But he also hedged his bets. While he retained Rohde to prepare some "modern"
designs, he also retained another designer, Freda Diamond, to develop stylized versions of "traditional" furniture
items.
Contrary to the impression created by the usual telling of the Herman Miller story, sales of Rohde's designs were
not initially encouraging. In fact, as Jimmy Eppinger, Herman Miller's east coast salesperson, explained:"
Moral or not, it didn't sell... the new designs were referred to as "orange crates" and nobody liked the stuff in the
early 1930s. Herman Miller... was going nowhere, almost broke (Abercrombie, 1981, p. 55)."
But thanks in part to a prominent display of Rohde's and others' modern designs at the world's fair "Century of
Progress Exposition" in Chicago in1933-34, the market began slowly to warm to modern designs.
But even a warming toward modern design was not enough to ensure success for Herman Miller. The company
also needed a new means of selling this new "concept" in furniture. In 1934, Jimmy Eppinger developed such a
method. First, he immersed himself in the details of modern design and the problems these designs attempted to
solve. Then he developed an educational training program that emphasized the practicality and the modularity of
Rohde's designs. Above all, he made sure that people understood the concept of "modern" furniture and how it
could save space and improve performance.
These selling techniques established important precedents for the company. The company learned that design
innovation requires both innovative merchandising techniques and salespeople who understand the concepts of
the products being sold (Caplan, 1976, p. 28). It was precisely this philosophy that guided Joe Schwartz, decades
later, as he masterminded the Action Office II sales seminar program which so revolutionized sales practices in the
office furniture industry.
The "concept" sell developed by Eppinger was a huge success - both for the company and for the industry. Years
later, Max DePree, one of D.J. DePree's sons, and later company chairman, put "concept selling" at Herman Miller in
perspective (Caplan, 1976, p. 29):"

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All our lives at Herman Miller, we have really been teaching planning. The early planning was not unlike the
planning necessary to sell Action Office, which is really an expansion of the kinds of programs that Eppinger set up
in the 1930s. Whenever there is an innovation, there has to be some explanation of how to take advantage of it.
Eppinger, of course, was working at something far more difficult that just teaching the users how to use the
furniture. He was teaching the buyers how to sell it, and in that role was a key figure in the contemporary furniture
industry."
Another unexpected outcome of both this concept sell and the company's early involvement in modern design was
the fact that a high percentage of the customers buying Herman Miller's "modern" designs were architects
(Abercrombie, 1981, p. 55). Though the company could not have known it at the time, these early sales to
architects signaled the beginning of a long-term relationship between Herman Miller and the A&D community that
would be fundamental to the company's success decades later. When Herman Miller introduced Action Office
systems furniture to the marketplace 30 years later, it was to the same appreciative audience of architects and
designers - and end users - that the company initially turned for support. It was gladly given.
By 1936, with Gilbert Rohde's prodding, and the market's gradual embrace of modern furniture, Herman Miller
decided to produce only modern furniture (DePree, 1986, p. 16). But such transitions take time. Further, the
suspension of civilian production during World War II also took its toll. As a result, the conversion to "modern"
furniture was not completed until 1945 - fully 15 years after Gilbert Rohde entered Herman Miller's Grand Rapids
showroom. As it happened, it also was one year after Rohde had died unexpectedly of a heart attack in a
Manhattan restaurant (New York Times, June 17, 1944, pp. 2, 13).
Another refinement from the popular version of the Herman Miller story is the precise nature of Rohde's
relationship with Herman Miller. Though no claims to the contrary are made in most accounts of the Herman Miller
story, the usual impression made of Rohde's relationship to Herman Miller is that of an employee who spent much
of his time and effort guiding the transformation of Herman Miller. In fact, Rohde's influence on Herman Miller was
made, to a certain degree, in passing. Though both Rohde and Herman Miller benefited greatly from their
relationship, neither was committed exclusively to the other.
For his part, Rohde had his own design practice - located at 22 East 60th Street in a New York City restaurant (New
York Times, June 17, 1944, pp. 2, 13) - and pursued many independent interests beyond those of Herman Miller. In
addition to Herman Miller, Rohde's clients included, among others, the Hudson Motor Car Company, the plastics
department of General Electric, and the Farnsworth Radio and Television Corporation of Fort Wayne, Indiana. He
also worked as a teacher and lecturer in industrial design at numerous colleges and universities and was a director
of a free industrial art school - the Design Laboratory, established in 1936 by the Federal Art Project of the WPA.
In the 14 years from when Rohde first introduced himself to D.J. DePree, to when he died, Rohde had become an
important design influence not only for Herman Miller, but also for the country-at-large. Important as his
relationship with Herman Miller had been, however, it was never his only, nor necessarily most important, design
relationship. But for Herman Miller it was enough, for it had made an immense difference in the company's
existence.
Nelson, Eames and the golden years of design
The end of World War II marked a pivotal time for Herman Miller. Under the guiding influence of Gilbert Rohde, the
company had made the transition to modern design furniture and had forged a nascent but important relationship
with an increasingly important cohort of architects and designers. It also had escaped the perils of the Great
Depression. But with Rohde gone and the imminent return to civilian production confronting the company, Herman
Miller continued to face an uncertain future. Yet, 20 years later, the company would look back on these decades as
a time of unprecedented growth, driven by a series of design "giants" brought to the company by Gilbert Rohde's
replacement, George Nelson.
However, how Nelson and the other design giants were recruited, how long this process took, and how events
proceeded from there provide clear examples once again of emergent self-organization in action. They also show
how easily things might have turned out differently if circumstances had been altered even slightly.

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It took two years to find a suitable replacement for Gilbert Rohde. Coincidentally, as with Gilbert Rohde, the person
they found, George Nelson, had no prior experience in furniture design. But also like Gilbert Rohde, Nelson had a
well-honed design philosophy that he was ready and willing to apply to furniture design.
Nelson had been trained as an architect and was working as an editor at Architectural Forum in New York City. In
the 1940s, "Modern design ... was still a small family, a shared faith against an unbelieving world outside" (Larabee
and Vignelli, 1989, p. 69). By working at the Architectural Forum, Nelson was at the very center of the "modern"
design community and used his influence and connections to good advantage.
The publisher and chief editor of Architectural Forum was Howard Meyers. He was, according to industry icon and
co-founder of Knoll Associates, Florence Schust Knoll, the catalyst for modern architecture and design in the USA
(Larrabee and Vignelli, 1989, p. 20). Meyers brought creative people together with many potential new clients and
often hosted parties with such design luminaries present as Philip Johnson, Frank Lloyd Wright, Edward Durell
Stone, Isamu Noguchi, and others. Together with his wife, Louise, Meyers relentlessly promoted the cause of
contemporary "modern" design. Later, Louise Meyers even became Knoll Associates' first New York City showroom
manager.
From 1945 until about 1975, a friendly rivalry existed between Herman Miller and Knoll Associates as the
recognized purveyors of modern design furniture in America. Accordingly, both firms often competed for the
services of the same designers. Much of the best design talent at that time came from the Cranbrook Academy of
Art in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan. Charles Eames once remarked that "schools have vintage years, like wine or
anything else" (Larrabee and Vignelli, 1989, p. 15). Eames was one of those vintage products. So were his wife, Ray
(nee Kaiser); Florence Schust Knoll; Eero Saarinen; Harry Bertoia; Harry Weese and Neils Diffrient. Ultimately,
Charles and Ray Eames had their own design office in Venice, California, and collaborated with Herman Miller,
while the other designers mentioned above were most often closely associated with Knoll.
In 1946, Edgar Kaufmann Jr, AIA, the Museum of Modern Art's (MoMA) director of industrial design, organized a
small exhibition to honor Eames' work. This was the first one-person furniture exhibition ever sponsored by the
museum (Caplan, 1976, p. 44). Kaufmann suggested that Eames give George Nelson an advance private showing
of Eames' molded plywood chair. Nelson immediately recognized the genius in Eames' designs and encouraged
Jimmy Eppinger and D.J. DePree to meet with Eames and recruit him to work with Herman Miller. Then Nelson had
second thoughts. He feared being overshadowed by Eames' talent - and, in the end, he probably was. But Nelson
finally concluded that it would be better to have Eames working with Herman Miller than against it (DePree, 1986,
p. 44; Caplan, 1976, p. 47).
At the same time, Knoll also was trying to recruit Eames (DePree, 1986, p. 44). But according to Hugh DePree
(1986, p. 44), Knoll was having labor problems and Eames did not like the way Knoll was handling them. Larrabee
and Vignelli (1989), the authors of a Knoll corporate history, and designers themselves, provide another
explanation. They suggest that Eames, as a midwesterner, felt Knoll "had too classy and international an image for
him to be comfortable at Knoll" (p. 69). They also speculated that Eames felt he needed more space for his own
gifts as a designer to expand.
In any event, Herman Miller and Eames ultimately agreed to work together. In a genuine display of respect for the
talent of his fellow designer, Nelson relinquished his right of design approval for Eames' work (Caplan, 1976, p. 47).
Still, before Herman Miller could go into production with Eames' designs, the company first had to secure the
production rights for the chair from Evans Products of Venice, California. The Eameses had worked for Evans
Products during the war and had become, in essence, the core of the Plywood Division for the company. This
allowed the Eameses to carry on their molded plywood experiments while supporting the war effort in the
production of molded plywood splints for the US Navy (Noyes, 1946, p. 38).
Fortunately for Herman Miller, Evans Products was looking for a manufacturer to produce Eames' chairs and
quickly reached agreement with Herman Miller to do so. However, Herman Miller's factory was by then bursting at
the seams and there was no room for the molding machines needed to produce Eames' chairs. Once again, fate
lent a helping hand. As Herman Miller was discovering that the molding equipment would not fit in its plant, the

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Evans Products Company also began to have second thoughts. Evans Products had acquired a facility for
producing the chairs before the deal with Herman Miller had been initiated (Caplan, 1976, p. 44) and decided in the
end that Herman Miller should only market and distribute the chairs - not manufacture them. D.J. wired Jimmy
Eppinger with the good news: "A most providential thing has happened stop Evans wants to manufacture the
chairs for us stop" (Caplan, 1976, p. 44).
The saga did not end there. It still took a couple of months of negotiations before a final agreement was reached. A
news clipping from the Grand Rapids Herald announced on December 3, 1946, that arrangements were "being
completed" for Herman Miller to distribute the chairs and that production would begin sometime in 1947. Then,
two years later, Evans Products again changed its mind and sold the "machinery, inventory and design rights" for
Eames' molded plywood chairs to Herman Miller (Retailing, March 10, 1949). The rest is history. Over the course of
the next three decades, the names of Charles Eames and Herman Miller became synonymous. And slowly,
inexorably, Herman Miller became a "chair" company (Schwartz interview, May 1994).
Ultimately, Herman Miller's success as a high-end design company depended greatly on two related but otherwise
unexpected occurrences. First was the chance involvement with the company of Gilbert Rohde. Rohde set Herman
Miller down the path of modern design. Then came the chance recruitment of the well-connected and influential
George Nelson, who used his connections to bring many other important designers into league with Herman Miller.
On the strength of these two chance events, Herman Miller grew from a beleaguered manufacturer of highly ornate
and ostentatious bedroom furniture in 1930, one year away from bankruptcy, to a respected and successful
champion of modern furniture design by the early 1960s.
Even so, by the late 1950s and early 1960s, cause for concern was again emerging. Financially, the company was
not strong (Ruch interview, 1994) and its designers were no longer providing as many designs for the company to
produce as they had before. Without intending it, Herman Miller had become a "table" and "chair" company in the
design-conscious end of the residential furniture market (Schwartz interview, May 1994). The DePrees, D.J. and his
one son, Hugh, who had succeeded his father as president and CEO in 1962, began to worry about what would
happen if "the bottom fell out of the chair business" (DePree, 1986, p. 80). The DePrees believed that the company
needed to diversify. Enter Bob Propst and the birth of Action Office systems furniture, the subject of the last
critical turning point in Herman Miller's history covered in this paper.
Bob Propst and the advent of Action Office
On a trip to Boulder, Colorado, in 1958, D.J. DePree made inquiries at an architect's office about who might be
doing interesting work in the area. He was given the name of Bob Propst, a man in Denver who fancied himself as
an "inventor" rather than a "designer." DePree met with Propst and encouraged his son, Hugh, to do the same as
quickly as possible. This Hugh did. A short time later he met with Propst at the Aspen Design Conference and the
chemistry was perfect (DePree, 1986, p. 1). Both parties knew in an instant that they wanted to work together.
Propst agreed to work for a total of 20 weeks for Herman Miller during the year beginning September 1, 1958, and
focused his efforts on four furniture-related projects. But soon this list began to grow, fueling considerable
excitement about what kind of company Herman Miller might become. But euphoria quickly dissolved into
frustration as the company realized that it could not support all of Propst's ideas. Propst began to consider
working for other concerns and even decided to cancel his agreement with Herman Miller.
The company was convinced it needed to diversify and that Propst was the person to lead the way. Shortly
thereafter it concluded an agreement with Propst that one of the company's chief financial consultants thought
"was crazy..." The consultant advised, "You will never come up with anything out of an investment like that"
(DePree, 1986, p. 82). Nonetheless, in September 1960, Herman Miller established the Herman Miller Research
Division (HMRD) in Ann Arbor, Michigan, with Bob Propst as its head.
The idea was to let Propst's imagination run wild and help the company diversify. Propst had only two constraints
with which to work:
- (1) do not do any work related to the military; and
- (2) stay away from furniture (Walters interview, 1994; DePree, 1986; Caplan, 1976).

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Furniture was to remain primarily the domain of Nelson and Eames. But of course, looking back, this is not what
happened.
Very quickly, HMRD was working on 37 new projects - all of which were outside the field of furniture. These
included such diverse projects as a waffle spring, sugar-beet thinners, a tree-harvester, a roof system, an energy
clamp, a heart valve, a squash ball caster, a livestock identification program, and a laser project (DePree, 1986:
Caplan, 1976). But almost by accident, Propst and company still managed to get involved in furniture design.
When Propst and the HMRD staff moved into their Ann Arbor facility, they were very dissatisfied with the furniture
available to them. Whether equipped with elements of George Nelson's Comprehensive Storage System (CSS) or
with anything else then available on the market, the offices simply did not allow Propst and his staff to work the
way they wanted. So Propst began to experiment. He experimented with new furniture concepts that allowed
people to work more effectively. At first, this experimentation seemed innocent enough and Hugh DePree viewed it
as only a minor diversion. Besides, it was also only for internal purposes - or so Hugh DePree thought.
According to Jack Kelly, the designer who took Propst's Action Office concepts and translated them into actual
product designs, Propst was very aware of the work of the Quickborner Team in Germany and their experiments
with Burolandschaft - i.e. "office landscape" (Kelly interview, 1996). As a result, Propst became interested in
reconceptualizing work in the office place. Soon, the HMRD offices were equipped with new and interesting
prototypes addressing this very problem. But while Hugh DePree felt these prototypes pointed in a potentially
interesting direction, he also felt they looked clumsy. So he then did what he and the company had "always" done.
He assigned the project to the Nelson office for further design work and asked Propst to continue to focus his
energies on diversification efforts.
In spite of the hand-off to the Nelson office, Action Office remained on HMRD's project list. Further, according to
Hugh DePree (1986), the company did not realize the extent of work and energy Propst continued to put into the
project. Ultimately, Propst's continuing efforts led to a difficult rivalry between HMRD and the Nelson office.
Further strains also developed when HMRD put increasing demands on the Nelson office to make additional
"design" progress on many of the other 31 projects HMRD was developing.
The company was soon beset by conflict. It was trying to do too much. Frustration built on all fronts. Charles
Eames thought the company was too concerned with innovation and he thought the money spent on research
might have been better spent on building service and quality, or on more practical problems such as lighting
(DePree, 1986, p. 86):"
"Hugh, the reason I am so frustrated with your drive for innovation is that true innovation is a function of a series of
unexpected things coming together at a point in time." As an example, [Charles Eames] used the French
Revolution's seemingly unrelated but inexorable social and political causes. He was telling us that without these
external dynamics, nothing will happen, that you can't program major change. He added, "The only thing I can do is
to try to help you recognize it when it happens, and then take advantage of it. (Hugh DePree, describing Charles
Eames' position on innovation, in DePree, 1986, p. 171)."
What Eames did not recognize at the time - indeed, no one did - was that both Herman Miller and the office
furniture industry were in the midst of such an upheaval. Consequently, both Eames and Nelson, as well as some
outside board members, questioned whether Propst's goals and direction for research were correct. It was even
suggested that HMRD be merged with the Nelson office. But this idea "failed for lack of support" (DePree, 1986, p.
86). Going further, Nelson even suggested shutting HMRD down. Of all the projects HMRD was working on in
March 1962, Nelson could identify only two in which he was interested: Action Office and Generated Roof
structures. Everything else bored him.
In spite of these difficulties, Action Office was introduced to the marketplace in late 1964. This happened first on a
limited basis, and later, in early 1965, more broadly. But the product was a failure. It received critical acclaim to be
sure. But it failed to garner many sales. Further, it was hard to assemble, costs were high, and quality was weak.
But worst of all, it did not do what it purported to do. It did not improve work in the office place (Walters interview,
1994).

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Within a short time, Action Office was withdrawn from the market. But before it was, George Nelson was awarded
the prestigious Alcoa Award for the design of Action Office. Ironically, no mention was made of the initial work
done by Propst and the people in Ann Arbor. To many observers, this seemed an act of "poetic injustice" (DePree,
1986, p. 87).
But even after the initial failure of Action Office, work continued on the "economy" version of Action Office. The
first generation of Action Office had been intended for executives. So Hugh DePree requested that the second,
economy version be designed by September 1965 and assigned this task jointly to the Nelson office, HMRD, and
Product Development. Product Development was based in Zeeland at company headquarters and was headed by
Bob Blaich. It soon became clear, though, that Blaich's job primarily was to act as a referee between the Nelson
office and HMRD. At least, that is how it turned out.
Very quickly, the thinking at both the Nelson office and HMRD on Action Office evolved away from a free-standing
solution, which the first version of Action Office had been, to a "hybrid wall" (Progressive Architecture, 1966,p. 155),
which was a panel-based approach. Again, differences between the two offices emerged. Each office attempted to
solve the design problem differently, with very little interaction between the two offices. Once more, friction
developed and the project reached an impasse.
To resolve this impasse, the company held an internal competition. The Nelson office, HMRD, and Product
Development each were to develop its ideas further over the course of the next three months. However, at the end
of that time, HMRD was the only one to have made substantial progress. It won the competition by default. This
was 1966 and the company seemed tantalizingly close to a new system, according to DePree (1986, p. 89). But
this was not to be; not quite yet. It would take two more years of development and frustration on everyone's part
before it would be ready to introduce - and even then it would be a crash program.
Jack Kelly (interview, 1996) recalls that after the design competition decision had been made, "The company really
didn't know quite what to do. Action Office was different, in nearly every way, from anything the company had done
before. The company did not know how to proceed." Then, in September 1967, after returning from a seminar in
Chicago on "Open plan in the office," sponsored by Office Design magazine, Hugh DePree decided that the
company must get the product to market before some other company beat them to it (DePree, 1986, p. 89).
Hugh DePree commissioned a special task force to "do anything necessary except sell the company" (Caplan,
1976, p. 93) to get Action Office II to the marketplace by June 1968. This project was to be headed by Glenn
Walters; further, Nelson's office was no longer to have any involvement in Action Office II, while HMRD was to
remain involved - but HMRD no longer would be primarily responsible for it.
Even then things did not go smoothly. According to Walters, there was tremendous internal resistance to Action
Office II (Walters interview, 1994; and in DePree, 1986, p. 107). It "was a massive fight" (p. 107), said Walters; not
because it was a new product, but because it changed nearly everything about how Herman Miller did business.
Without realizing it, Herman Miller was transforming itself from a high-end design company that manufactured
limited volumes of often hand-crafted products to a manufacturer of highly tooled, high volume, mass produced
products. The change was fundamental. Few inside the company understood what was happening.
Nor did anyone understand the impact Action Office II would have on the company from a sales perspective - let
alone its impact on the office furniture industry, an industry in which Herman Miller was only peripherally involved.
Further, at the time Action Office II was introduced, Herman Miller was a $16 million company with 26 different
product lines. Its largest seller, the Eames plastic shell chair, only had annual sales of $5 million. So when Joe
Schwartz and others on the project team suggested that Action Office II would have sales of $5 million by 1970,
nearly everyone howled with derision! It had taken the Eames chairs 20 years to reach that level of sales (Schwartz
interviews, May and August 1994). Few believed AO II could come anywhere close to that level.
Of course, in the end, it did; it achieved that and more - much more. Along the way, it transformed not only itself,
but also the whole of the office furniture industry. It created a new industry niche - the largest in the nearly $10
billion industry - and opened the door to nearly a quarter-century of unprecedented industry growth and to a new
cadre of office furniture leaders - including Herman Miller and Haworth, both of whom helped pioneer office

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furniture systems.
Emergent all the way down
What makes the history of Herman Miller ultimately so interesting both in detail and in perspective is the challenge
it presents to received notions of planning and control and to how companies presumably manage themselves
through "turbulent" times. As the above demonstrates, almost nothing of any consequence in Herman Miller's
history was planned or controlled in any commonly held sense of the words. Instead, Herman Miller's history
"emerged" - unplanned, undirected, and unanticipated; and almost always, misunderstood as it unfolded.
As evidence of the emergent self-organization that so dominated the company's history, there was no central
controller guiding Herman Miller unerringly along its chosen path. Indeed, there was no clearly chosen path - only
evolution in action. Further, this evolution was affected by the actions of all - and not necessarily even
predominantly by the DePrees. People at all levels of the organization made decisions and took action. And those
acts had consequences that formed Herman Miller's history. They also will continue to influence its future. And, as
was often the case, the actions which had the greatest effect frequently were taken by people "outside" the formal
organization - e.g. Rohde, Nelson, Eames, and Propst, to name but a few.
As in all emergent systems, history mattered for Herman Miller. It mattered significantly that Gilbert Rohde walked
into a Herman Miller showroom on a hot July day in 1930, looking for someone to produce his "modern" designs. It
mattered even more, decades later, when Herman Miller parlayed its position as a leader in "modern" design to
interest George Nelson and Charles Eames in working for it. It also mattered when the company needed to rely on
the A&D community to launch AO II that it had begun to build alliances with that same community three decades
earlier.
For the same reason, relationships also mattered in Herman Miller's history. They mattered for D.J. DePree and
Gilbert Rohde and Charles Eames and George Nelson and Hugh DePree and Bob Propst and multitudes of others.
They also help explain why some designers worked for Herman Miller and not for Knoll and vice versa; or why
some architects and designers bought open plan office systems from one manufacturer and not from another.
Finally, Herman Miller's history unfolded in a world of flux and change. It was a world of perpetual novelty and
creativity where no one could know the details that were to follow. And no one did.
The glory of history is that it provides context. And context provides meaning. And meaning is what we use to
make sense not only of the past, but also of the future. This is the significance of the history of Herman Miller. It
helps make sense of the past. It also helps make sense of the future and of the dynamic flows of firms and
industries and technologies in general. The history of Herman Miller is important in its own right. But as evidence
of the importance of emergence in all aspects of organizational life, its history assumes even greater significance.
There is a simple but important link to be made here. If the evolution of firms and industries and technologies is
indeed "emergent all the way down," then understanding the dynamics of emergent self-organization, and how one
"manages" such processes becomes all the more important. This is especially so if one considers how planning
and control models of management continue to dominate both practice and research.
In the end, emergent self-organizing systems are different from planning and control systems. They rely on
different world views, imply different theories of organizational change, suggest different means of organizing,
require different tasks of management, and emphasize different dimensions of strategy (see especially Hench,
1997). In his final book before his death, F.A. Hayek (1988, p. 146) argued that "the analysis of self-ordering
processes must be the chief task of any science of the market order." Herman Miller's history confirms this
intuition.
Neither traditional planning and control systems nor emergent self-organizing systems provides effective means
for predicting specific events in the future. But forewarned is forearmed. If one understands that one is dealing
with emergent self-organization in the evolution of firms and industries and technologies, then one should begin to
think and act differently than received planning and control models might otherwise suggest. In competitive
markets fraught with change, such wisdom may be all the competitive advantage one gets. It also may be all one
needs.

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Notes
1. Two key sources of information for the early years of Herman Miller are Business as Unusual, by Hugh DePree
(1986), a son of D.J. DePree and a former CEO of Herman Miller, and The Design of Herman Miller, by Ralph Caplan
(1976). This latter work was written in cooperation with Herman Miller, Inc. Both the DePree and Caplan works
contain many valuable quotes and interviews from the early years of Herman Miller's history.
2. As a note of interest, Herman Miller's clock company was the Colonial Clock Company. It survived in business
until 1985. Herman Miller also had a son, Howard Miller, who founded his own clock company in Zeeland,
Michigan, in 1926 - The Howard Miller Clock Company. Today, the Howard Miller Clock Company is a leading
manufacturer of clocks of all types and the world's largest producer of grandfather clocks.
Biographical note
Dr Thomas J. Hench is Assistant Professor of Management at the University of Wisconsin-La Crosse. He teaches
Business Strategy, International Business, and Technology and Innovation Management at both the graduate and
undergraduate levels. He has worked in private industry for nearly 20 years in, primarily, the areas of product
management and product development.
He received his doctorate degree in Business Management and Strategy, with a minor in International
Management, from the University of South Carolina. He also holds Master's degrees in Management from
Vanderbilt University and in International Relations from Boston University. His research interests include
organizational change, self-organizing systems, and strategy, domestic and international.
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2. Barrons (1985), October 7, p. 18.
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4. Caplan, R. (1976), The Design of Herman Miller, Whitney Library of Design, New York, NY.
5. Capra, F. (1996), The Web of Life: A New Scientific Understanding of Living Systems, Anchor Books, Doubleday,
New York, NY.
6. DePree, H. (1986), Business as Unusual: The People and Principles at Herman Miller, in-house publication,
Herman Miller, Inc., Zeeland, MI.
7. DePree, M. (1989), Leadership Is an Art, Dell Publishing, New York, NY.
8. DePree, M. (1992), Leadership Jazz, Dell Publishing, New York, NY.
9. Fortune Magazine (1987), "America's most admired corporation".
10. Gleick, J. (1987), Chaos: Making a New Science, Penguin, New York, NY.
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Management Journal, Vol. 17 No. 3, March, pp. 237-42.
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change, evolution, entrepreneurship and strategy as complex adaptive processes: a study in self-organizing
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22. New York Times (1944), June 17, Vol. 13 No. 2.
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DETAILS

Subject: Furniture industry; Case studies; History; Management styles; Strategic

management

Location: United States US

Company / organization: Name: Herman Miller Inc; Ticker: MLHR; NAICS: 337211, 337214, 337127; DUNS: 00-
601-2801

Classification: 8600: Manufacturing industries not elsewhere classified; 2310: Planning; 9110:
Company specific; 9190: United States

Publication title: Journal of Management History; Bradford

Volume: 5

Issue: 6

Pages: 362

Number of pages: 0

Publication year: 1999

Publication date: 1999

Publisher: Emerald Group Publishing Limited

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 Place of publication: Bradford

Country of publication: United Kingdom, Bradford

Publication subject: Business And Economics--Management

ISSN: 1751-1348

Source type: Scholarly Journals

Language of publication: English

Document type: Feature

ProQuest document ID: 211029701

Document URL: https://search.proquest.com/docview/211029701?accountid=50247

Copyright: Copyright MCB UP Limited (MCB) 1999

Last updated: 2014-05-19

Database: ProQuest Central

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