Stephen Bayley: The man who gave Middle Britain the Pleasure Principle

His friend, the art dealer Kasmin, once said Terence Conran's problem was that he wanted the whole world to have "a better salad bowl". By the time he resigned, exhausted, from the board of Storehouse in 1990, the public had decided it didn't necessarily want one of his.

In his Protean efforts to modernise Britain, Conran never appreciated that his taste was not universal. The Habitat of 1964 was an idealist adventure, brilliantly packaged for an aspiring generation of first-time buyers emerging from Robbins Report universities. To people who read Penguin Sartre, the cosmopolitanism of the merchandise was alluring.

A great many suppressed suburban longings were satisfied by Habitat and its Polish enamel and Bauhaus chairs. Indeed, it may be relevant that Conran himself came from Esher in Surrey. Habitat was coeval with the new Sunday colour supplements and it is significant that Conran's early collaborators, including his ex-wife Caroline (who put together the first Habitat catalogue), were savvy Sunday Times journalists.

Thus, as a designer, Conran was not a true original, but had a mastery of the sources so complete that it was sometimes difficult to tell the difference.

With a genius for style went some less attractive personality traits. There was a pervasive pattern of grandiosity (disguised by a media-friendly, easy-going, charm) and a lack of empathy for others. For instance, it was not enough for Conran to accept that he helped popularise the duvet (true), he had to go farther and claim to have revolutionised sexual behaviour (unproven).

Still, the achievement of Conran as a designer was to put Middle Britain in touch with the Pleasure Principle, as applied to household furnishings. That salad bowl was meant to make you feel better. Thus, there was a sort of missionary ethos. The success of the mission required a certain subjugation of the other personalities involved. One man's inspiration is another man's plagiarism and there are designers you meet, including the distinguished Vico Magistretti, who believe Conran crossed that line.

Although he disdains the term, Conran invented "lifestyle". It was, for instance, a small step from reading a Penguin Elizabeth David to wanting to have an earthenware dish in which to make ratatouille and then a Provencal kitchen to make it in.

What started out as a stylish escapade has become a little more calculating. Few people have contributed more to British material life than Terence Conran. But we are still waiting for that better salad bowl.