This sculptural object appears to be a chair—yet it resists every expectation of what a chair should be. It does not invite comfort, accommodate posture, or even acknowledge the human form as its reference point. Instead, it emerges like a relic or a coral growth: porous, asymmetrical, and deeply indifferent. This proposal asks: What if chairs refused anthropocentrism? What if objects, particularly those in intimate relation with the human body, were no longer designed in deference to us—but instead developed their own autonomous logic of form? To imagine such a chair is to deconstruct the long-standing traditions of ergonomics and functionalist design, which center the human body as both measure and master. In contrast, this object situates itself within a posthumanist framework (Braidotti, 2013), dissolving the priority of the human in favor of material autonomy, formal wildness, and multispecies ambiguity. Historically, the chair has symbolized power—thrones, altars, and the modern office all trace their authority through seated posture. To disrupt the chair is to disrupt the architecture of control itself. The object seen here does not support—it resists. Its design language recalls decomposition, erosion, or perhaps growth without direction. It is neither ruin nor prototype, but something in between. This form aligns with Speculative Realism, particularly the writings of Graham Harman and Timothy Morton, who argue that objects exist beyond our perception of them, withdrawn into their own unknowable realities. This chair does not perform for us—it is, regardless of us. From a design perspective, it also intersects with Material Ecology (Oxman, 2010), not because of biomimicry, but because of its disregard for traditional material control. It appears grown, not made. Its surfaces are inconsistent, its openings seemingly random. This aligns with a new generation of designers working through computational morphogenesis, where form is not imposed but emergent, based on rules beyond anthropocentric authorship. The proposal also critiques domesticity and the notion of “good design” as being synonymous with comfort, utility, or accessibility. This chair is not for sitting—it is for thinking, challenging, disorienting. Like the critical furniture experiments of Enzo Mari or Martino Gamper, it weaponizes dysfunction to provoke awareness. But rather than merely being unfit, this object offers a different kind of hospitality—one that does not serve, but coexists. It challenges the body to find its place, or perhaps to step back altogether. It raises ethical questions: Do all objects need to serve us? What does it mean to design for otherness? By refusing the human form, the chair offers a new material politics. It is not anti-human, but post-human—a sculptural entity that asserts its own material presence. In doing so, it helps us imagine a world where design is not about control, but coexistence. --------------------------------------------------References • Braidotti, R. (2013). The Posthuman. Polity Press. • Harman, G. (2018). Object-Oriented Ontology: A New Theory of Everything. Pelican. • Morton, T. (2013). Hyperobjects: Philosophy and Ecology after the End of the World. University of Minnesota Press. • Oxman, N. (2010). Material Ecology. Design Issues, 26(2), 36–47. • Gamper, M. (2009). 100 Chairs in 100 Days and its 100 Ways. Dent-De-Leone.