Not that I ever claimed to be rational
A couple of days ago, I received in the mail a shiny new copy of J.D. Paterson's Primate Behavior: An Exercise Workbook. This is, as far as I can discern, a classic text from an established publisher -- ubiquitously referenced, one of two books recommended for more detailed study in the introduction to Martin & Bateson's Measuring Behavior, well reviewed in online marketplaces, relied upon by numerous field schools. Yet ever since I first drew a mildewed copy from ITEC's dross covered shelves, something about it has struck me as slightly amateur. As I glanced at it sitting here beside my computer a moment ago, the reason for this has finally occurred to me: its cover is very poorly designed.
I realize how pompous that must sound, and readily acknowledge the tremendous limitations in my expertize, but in this case I think it's really quite obvious: overbold and glaring text against hideous neon/pastel pink with unflattering duotone images...
But because it seems so obvious, I can't help but wonder if it wasn't intentional.
If the book is intended for specialists, it might behoove the publishers to make it seem somewhat rough-hewn, to imply that form was sacrificed or undervalued for the sake of content. "Well, they certainly didn't spare any expense on artwork, so the text itself must really be worth $31.95..."
Which is my very poor, novice attempt at consumer psychology, except that I suspect that something embarrassingly similar goes through my mind when I look for new texts, inevitably leading me to spurn the glossy and the case-bound high-production and reach instead for the slightly ugly or unornamented. I want the designers of my science books to be better at science than design, for the opposite situation has dreadful implications.