For a long time, in the world of automation, design was treated as a secondary issue. Performance came first, then robustness, software, and operational capacity. Only afterwards—if at all—came form. But today this hierarchy is beginning to show all its limits.
Because an automated dispenser is not just a machine. It is an object that enters the workplace, interacts with everyday gestures, with different people, with different needs, and with environments that require efficiency but also clarity, order, and immediacy. In other words, it does not interact with a theoretical user, but with reality.
And this is where design stops being a detail and returns to what it should always be: a part of the function.
What does design really mean in automated dispensers?
It means designing not only what a machine does, but also the way it is understood, approached, and used.
An automated dispenser always operates on two levels. The first is technical: it must distribute, track, control, withstand use, and integrate with a broader system. The second is relational: it must make interaction simple, guide the user’s actions, reduce uncertainty, and fit naturally into the space.
This second level is often underestimated. Yet it is precisely where a decisive part of the product’s real quality is defined. Because a technology can be highly advanced, but if it creates friction, hesitation, or discomfort, it is not fully working.
Why is functional design so important in a system that distributes workwear?
Because these systems are in direct contact with people. And people are not all the same.
Some users operate the dispenser quickly at the beginning of a shift, some are very familiar with digital systems and others much less, some have different physical needs, different postures, different heights, different mobility. Thinking that everyone can interact with a machine in the same way is a shortcut that no longer works.
Functional design starts from this very point: the idea that the quality of a system is measured not only by what it distributes, but also by how it supports the user. A good design does not force the body to adapt to the machine. If anything, it tries to do the opposite.
What does it really mean to design for people?
It means going beyond technical performance and asking how an object is experienced, understood and used. Ultimately, this is what distinguishes an efficient machine from a well-designed product: not only what it does, but how it supports the experience of the people who interact with it.
This is where the thinking of Bruno Munari becomes relevant again. Munari, an Italian designer, artist and author of the 20th century, was known for viewing design not as decoration, but as a tool to simplify the relationship between object, function and person.
Applying this perspective to automated dispensers means moving beyond a purely mechanical view of the product. It means seeing them as meeting points between technology, ergonomics, perception and space. And it also means recognising that even an industrial system can — and should — be designed with the same level of care reserved for the objects that enter people’s lives every day.
Are ergonomics and accessibility really central in these products?
Yes, and not only for comfort reasons.
When a machine is used dozens or hundreds of times a day, every small friction multiplies. The position of a screen, the readability of information, the logic of the compartments, the clarity of the interface, the overall visual perception: everything contributes to creating either a smooth or a tiring experience.
In this sense, ergonomics and accessibility are not secondary themes. They are part of performance. They make technology more natural, more intuitive, and more respectful of the real diversity of users.
Does aesthetics really matter even in technical, healthcare, or industrial environments?
It absolutely does. And not because it has to “decorate” the machine.
It matters because aesthetics, when properly designed, makes the function easier to understand. It communicates order, clarity, and reliability. It shows that behind a technical object there has been thought, not just an assembly of components.
Even in a hospital, an industrial laundry, a food production company, or a manufacturing plant, people live inside a space. Everything that occupies that space contributes to a certain idea of quality. A well-designed product is not superficial: it is often more understandable, more coherent, and more human.
Why has design also become a matter of industrial identity?
Because today products communicate even before they are used.
They say something about the company that created them, its level of maturity, its relationship with innovation, and the way it interprets the connection between technology and people. In this sense, design is not just an aesthetic matter: it is an industrial language.
For a company like ABG Systems, which develops automated systems designed to become part of the daily operations of many different environments, this language matters. Not because it needs to impress, but because it must be consistent with the quality of the project itself.
How is this vision reflected in the work of ABG Systems?
With White C-Evo, this vision has taken a particularly clear form. The collaboration with MAIN Engineering, the contribution of Massimo Barchi and Matteo Drudi, and the shared work with the technical office and R&D development team at ABG Systems clearly express a specific design philosophy: a design that does not soften technology, but interprets it. For this reason, the Red Dot Award received by the product should not be seen as an isolated episode, but as a signal of a broader direction.
The real point, however, is not the award itself. The point is understanding that a product like White C-Evo makes a deeper change visible: the intention to bring design into the very core of the industrial project, not its margins.
Is White C-Evo an isolated case or the beginning of a broader transformation?
It is the beginning of a broader transformation.
At ABG Systems, work is underway that concerns the design language of the entire product range. Not a simple restyling, but a deeper rethinking of the relationship between form, ergonomics, identity, and function. The goal is not to make products aesthetically uniform, but to build a new coherence between what they do, how they appear, and the kind of experience they offer.
It is a silent revolution, but a very concrete one. And it concerns the way automation presents itself in the real world: not as something foreign, but as part of an environment, a routine, and a relationship.
Why will Expodetergo 2026 be an important step?
Because it will be a natural launch platform for this evolution.
Not just a showcase for new products, but the right context to present a more coherent design direction. When a company truly rethinks the design of its products, it is not simply changing shapes. It is redefining the way it positions itself in the industry, communicates with the market, and imagines the future.
From this point of view, Expodetergo 2026 will be an interesting moment to see how this transformation will take shape in a more visible and complete way.
What does the design of automated dispensers teach us today?
That the difference between a machine and a product often lies in the quality of the relationship it is able to build with the people who use it.
A well-designed automated dispenser does not simply work. It reduces friction. It organises the gesture. It makes technology clearer. It improves the way the object exists in space. It helps people perceive the quality of the service more clearly.
Ultimately, this is what is really at stake. Not making technology more attractive, but making it more understandable, more natural, and closer to the complexity of real people.
And perhaps this is where design once again becomes a central issue even in automation: the moment it stops being a visual detail and becomes, once again, a form of intelligence applied to use.
