Here is a brief explanation of the four main ethics, sufficiency, integrity, elegance and simplicity, that shape the way I create my own designs.

Sufficiency

The ethic of sufficiency is that designs should be created just by folding paper. Folding the paper is enough. Nothing else is necessary. Indeed, adding anything else to the mix takes away the essence of what paperfolding is about. So, for instance, I try to avoid using materials other than paper, like, for instance, paper backcoated with metal foil, because they fold, and hold their folded shape, in a different way than paper does. I also try to avoid using techniques other than folding. In particular I try to avoid cuts, or any kind of adhesive or decoration (whether added to the paper before or after it is folded). This doesn't mean I never use cuts, adhesive or decoration. Sufficiency is an ethic not a rule. I sometimes use these techniques, or paper backcoated with metal foil, where the nature of the design requires this, but I am always conscious that the design would be a better design if I didn't need to use them.

Integrity

The ethic of integrity is that the qualities of the paper at the start of the folding process should be respected and, in so far as is possible, maintained all the way through to the final result. I say 'in so far as is possible' because I am aware that every time I make a crease in a sheet of paper I damage it. Because of this I am not keen on the technique of crumpling a sheet of paper, which makes thousands of tiny creases in it, then moulds it into a design, even though the results are sometimes eerily beautiful. I prefer to see large areas of smooth, undamaged paper in the final design. Similarly, I am not keen on the technique known as wet-folding in which the paper is dampened before it is folded so that it sets in place in its final folded form when it dries. Dampening the paper breaks the chemical bonds between the fibres in the paper and although these bonds reform as the paper dries out it seems to me that this (at least temporarily) damages the paper's integrity. Dampening the paper also changes its essential nature so that it is able to be stretched. Because wetfolded designs cannot be unfolded back to a flat sheet (without dampening them again) there is no way to check whether the paper has maintained its integrity in this respect or not.

Elegance

Elegance is perhaps the most elusive origami ethic of all. Elegance is a quality (or perhaps several qualities) of the folding sequence (and in modular or multi-piece origami also of the assembly process) rather than of the finished design (so that you cannot describe an origami design as elegant although you can say that it is elegant to fold or assemble).

First and foremost, elegant folding sequences flow together. Each fold creates an opportunity that the next fold exploits. The folds are not forced upon the paper, rather it is very much as if the paper is folding itself into what it wants to become. Consequently, you cannot understand elegance by analysing it, only by folding the sequence and enjoying the flow of it between your fingers. To some extent this sense of flow depends upon each fold being clearly located. While I enjoy playing around with unlocated folds it is difficult to achieve elegance by using them (though I would argue that my 1-fold Elephant is an exception here).

Elegance is also about getting a result that is more than the sum of the individual folds. The traditional flapping bird is a great example of this. The flapping mechanism is a bonus that comes from the folding sequence that creates the wings and the tail.

It is unusual to find a design of any complexity that has a folding sequence that is elegant throughout. More often you will find that part of the folding sequence is elegant and part is not. Crease and collapse designs are often a good example. The creasing part of, for instance, my Give Me Sunshine design is just a sequence of clearly located but unpromising folds set in both directions through the paper. The collapse though is elegant, in that it creates an unexpected three-dimensional form of great beauty where all the creases work together in tension to hold the form in shape (and in fact there is a second form of which this is also true ... but you will have to fold it and play around to find it).

Clearly, if you are interested in creating elegant designs you have to create in a way that allows you to feel how the folding sequence will fold. You cannot plan your designs in other ways and expect them to end up elegant except by serendipity.

Simplicity

It is almost inevitable that if you subscribe to the ethics of elegance, sufficiency and integrity your designs will, on average, end up simple rather complex. For me, however, simplicity is not a by-product of subscribing to these other ethics, rather it is an aim in itself. Indeed, for me, the need to achieve simplicity sometimes over-rides the desire for sufficiency, or integrity or even elegance (so that I will sometimes, for instance, use a carefully placed cut to avoid excessive overcomplication). As a result of this love of simplicity, in my representational work, I aim at recognisability not verisimilitude. That is to say that if I am allowing the paper to find out how it wants to become an elephant I will be quite happy with something that is recognisably an elephant. I won't care if its ears are too big, its trunk too short or its body too square. (If I did care about this then the need to get the proportions right and to include all the important details would almost inevitably come into conflict with my desire for sufficiency, integrity and elegance.)