Herman Miller Embody office chair Review – Expensive art object, over-hyped seating furniture and unfortunately not suitable for everyone

1 - Delivery and guesswork 2 - Materials, build quality and technical specifications 3 - Ergonomics and user experience 4 - Headrest as a luxury item, waiting and final assembly 5 - Service/support, warranty handling and conclusion

It was actually supposed to be a step up, a worthy replacement for my ageing Wagner Alumedic, whose Dondola mechanism was in need of a light refresh after many years of daily use and the chair was also in need of a new gas pressure spring. So I decided to listen to the countless glowing reviews and invest in a supposed masterpiece of modern seating ergonomics: the Herman Miller Embody and use the whole thing as a test. Priced in the top segment, with a premium claim that would make any press release pale with pride, and a technical complexity that almost gives the impression that you have to have a degree in engineering to sit on it at all. I wish I hadn’t listened to all the sponsored influencers, because I should have known better. You end up paying for all this media praise and, unlike Wagner’s chair, you end up with a rather average mass-produced product with no real craftsmanship, but with bloody fingers.

At this point, a clear distinction must be made between the Embody Chair as a product and the specialist retailer (Design Cabinet® via Wexim GmbH). The retailer has demonstrably made an effort and responded, but bears no responsibility for the design or quality defects of the product itself. Its performance must therefore be assessed separately from that of the manufacturer. The chair was completely replaced after the first week and we were able to organize a direct replacement via the shipping company. More on this later.

The reality after one week was sobering. After the first delivery, there wasn’t much left of the big name, apart from a much lighter wallet and a real disappointment. Instead of the promised revelation in terms of ergonomics, I was presented with a piece of seating furniture that, after a short time, caused back pain in places I had never experienced before. What remains at the end of the day is the daily struggle with an overly complex seating device which, due to its lack of practicality, is hardly suitable as a tool for concentrated work for the uninitiated. After just one week on the first chair, my back now felt as if I had been sitting on a fine art object that would rather be displayed than used.

If this is to be the future of premium ergonomics, then I’d rather have a functioning Dondola and a repaired Wagner than a technical monument to the hubris of industrial design, coupled with American nonchalant, careless workmanship, where the gaps are even worse than in a Russian car. I was really pleased, because almost 1300 euros for a chair without a headrest (which unfortunately I could only order in the color offered additionally in the States, combined with customs, import sales tax, shipping and long delivery times) is not a small price to pay. And with a separate Atlas headrest, it’s over 1500 euros in total, which could easily have been almost 2000 euros if you had chosen one of the usual mainstream colors.

Of course, today’s test also needs to be classified correctly, because 1500 euros is a lot of money for a piece of seating furniture. That’s why my judgment is perhaps a little more critical than usual, because the manufacturer has set the benchmark and thus the bar so high for itself through the price and advertising. What I can easily tolerate in a 300-euro chair and perhaps seems just about acceptable in an 800-euro chair can also become an exclusion criterion for such an expensive product. The Embody is not my most expensive chair, so I can make a good comparison here, but unfortunately it also belongs in the category of things that I have to depreciate over a full 13 years because that’s what the tax office wants. That’s just about in line with the warranty, but let’s see if I’m still sitting on it when I’m 75.

Delivery and first impressions

The first Herman Miller Embody was delivered by Dachser. This initially went smoothly: punctual notification, clean packaging, no transport damage. The chair arrived fully pre-assembled on a kind of disposable pallet made of sturdy cardboard, in which it was positively secured with cardboard supports. The outer cardboard box was a perfect fit and the protective packaging was meticulous. Up to this point, everything made a high-quality, professionally organized impression, as you would expect from a product in this price range. I was in good spirits and was looking forward to trying out the chair for the first time.

Unpacking and first disappointment

However, the first irritation followed when unpacking: no documentation was included. No manual, no quick start guide, no graphic overview of the levers, nothing. There was just an English-language label with a QR code on the underside of the seat. The code led to the US website of Herman Miller, and from there, after two clicks, into the void of marketing. A user manual or at least online instructions were nowhere to be found. Especially for a chair that is so complex in its operation and adjustment logic and almost requires a bachelor’s degree in body configuration science, a manual would have been more than appropriate. The fact that no printed or digital instructions are included with a product that costs well into four figures seems simply careless and arrogant.

Once the chair was unpacked, I naturally wanted to adjust it immediately. But the seat height could not be changed. The lever for the gas pressure spring had no effect whatsoever, the chair remained in the lowest position, feeling like a child’s seat on the floor. So I was sitting on an ergonomic design object, but in fact half a meter too low.

After almost an hour of trial and error, swearing and different lever positions, it was clear: the gas pressure spring was really stuck and not the user’s problem. So I picked up the phone and called the authorized dealer. There I ended up at a switchboard, which noted the problem but was unable to provide a direct technical contact at first. A call back was planned “in the course of the day”, so please be patient. As I really wanted to continue working in the afternoon, I finally called an acquaintance who fits out offices. His spontaneous counter-question: “You have a Miller? Then you must also have a rubber mallet!” My question as to what for was answered dryly: “Well, for the gas spring. That’s a Herman Miller. It happens quite often.” As it turned out, there is actually an online form on the Herman Miller website that explicitly contains the item “Gaslift not functioning / stuck at lowest position”, which is obviously a known problem. There you can upload pictures and videos to substantiate the complaint. However, there are no technical instructions.

Self-help with a rubber mallet, and then what?

So, following the advice, I searched YouTube for corresponding videos. Some users actually demonstrated that if the gas springs are stuck, you should carefully tap the upper piston area with a rubber mallet to loosen the valve pin inside. After several tentative attempts, nothing happened until a somewhat courageous blow finally had an effect. When the lever was pressed, a clear plop sounded and the chair finally responded. I canceled the support appointment (unfortunately far too hastily), as at least this problem had now been solved. Ok, not by customer service, but by my own initiative and a talent for improvisation.

During the subsequent set-up, however, I noticed the next problem: the adjustment of the thigh support, i.e. the seat extension, could not be moved. It was blocked, even with considerable force. Again, no amount of reading helped, as there was no manual. Another example of how a product of this price range and complexity urgently deserves proper documentation. In the meantime, there are even two tickets with test and image material, but the confirmation emails never arrived.

Interim conclusion from day one

Everything went perfectly until delivery. From the moment it was unpacked, a downward spiral of missing documentation, sluggish mechanics and improvised solutions to problems began. The fact that you first have to study rubber mallet videos on YouTube to get a gas spring working on a supposedly premium product says more about the practical maturity of the product than any advertising promise. In the end, I was literally sitting higher again, but also with a clear insight: high-priced ergonomics are no guarantee of functioning mechanics or user-friendly operation and functioning quality control ex works. And without wanting to sound like a gloat: the Chinese and Germans are worlds better at this price range.