You can learn nearly everything about a chair in five minutes, but only if you spend them ruthlessly. Showrooms are designed for the thirty-second sit — perch, nod, move on — and a chair reveals almost nothing in thirty seconds. So take the five. Sit fully back until your spine meets the backrest, and stay there. Cross your legs. Lean over one arm as if reaching for a cup. Sit forward as if in conversation. Any pinch, ridge or wobble you notice now will be a daily companion for twenty years.
Then examine it like a sceptic. Lift it: a well-made chair is lighter than expected, because good joinery replaces brute mass. Grip the backrest and twist gently; a sound frame moves as one piece, without clicks. Look under the seat — wooden corner blocks and visible joinery are a good sign, a bristle of staples into chipboard is not. Check how the seat is done: papercord and webbing can be rewoven, foam in a fixed shell mostly cannot. Ask what the frame is; solid ash or oak should be an easy answer for the seller.
“A chair reveals almost nothing in thirty seconds.”
Finally, the test that outranks the ergonomics: picture the chair in ten years, in your home, after the trend it belongs to has finished. If the honest answer is uncertainty, walk away — there will be other chairs. A keeper needs three verdicts at once: comfortable at minute five, sound under the twist test, and imaginable at year ten. It is a high bar. It is meant to be. You are not buying a seat; you are choosing a colleague for twenty thousand evenings.