Design, Like War

In recent weeks I have had reason to ponder the speed at which designers work. More specifically, the various rates that I have operated at across my career. Sometimes fast and from the hip. Other times methodical and deliberate. For young designers, which was my experience while teaching, tend to move fast all the time. They many opportunities to create subtly and intentionality in their work. Older designers, tend to work slowly, usually under the guise of "getting it right the first time." A smart design process benefits from both methods, but I tend to think that being bent toward release is always helpful. As I've thought about this topic recently, I recall something I read in a book titled The Nature and Aesthetics of Design by David Pye.

It must be emphasized that design, of every kind, is a matter of trial and error. There are always some trial assumptions which no calculation or drawing can verify. Man [People] cannot foresee the future. Design, like war, is an uncertain trade, and we have to make the things we have designed before we can find out whether our assumptions are right or wrong. There is no other way to find out. When we modify our prototype, it is, quite flatly, because we guessed wrong. It is eminently true of design that if you are not prepared to make mistakes, you will never make anything at all. Research is very often a euphemism for trying the wrong ways first, as we all must do.

In a world of design thinking, design systems, design language, user research, validation, metrical analysis, and so forth – ugh, it is so easy to get bogged down and I don't even want to finish my thought. Instead, it is helpful to think of those parts of the design processes as safe places for experimentation. That way Design, as a culture and corporate department, was more honest about embracing the need for design to make mistakes as a part our processes. 

Controlling the Narrative

One of the lessons I’ve learned over the years is the need to control the narrative around design. I’m referring to the daily narratives that occur via meetings, emails, reviews, and brainstorms. These are the micro-interactions that will determine the success of your projects and company.

I’ve seen many meetings go south for designers, like Cape Horn south. You’ve been there too, pitching the best UI work for your career that is backed by sound UX research, and it gets shot down for a mundane reason. Likely you misspelled something or used the names of NBA Legends instead of actual clients. How about this one; you’ve made an unbelievable series of ADs and creative for a campaign. You also spearheaded the brainstorm for the project. The copy is tight, and the illustrations fit perfectly. From click to form fill, the CRs will be fantastic. One problem, you proposed a new, brighter green CTA color. Now, you have to start all over for the new-on-the-spot campaign “Winners Win.” You're dismayed. You saw it coming mid-meeting like the slow creep of lava down a mountainside. I've been there; it's the worst. 

In the scenarios above — and occurrences less dramatic — your job is to bring others into the narrative. Designers tend to intuit the various experiences of brands, users, products, and campaigns, and naturally, create stories around them. We forget while creating these experiences that our colleagues have different skills, goals, and priorities. As a result, many of them have a hard time adapting to thinking and understanding why design is matters at all. Don't take it personally, they think it about everyone's job but their own. You do the same thing. 

You should know that your stellar design work is not enough to manage expectations. When you show design work, everyone assumes that you want approval of the design details. Though that feedback is usually the last thing that you want. Here is some advice on controlling the narrative.

• Write your "pitch" and practice saying it out loud.  
• The pitch should describe how the design helps to meet project goals, not focus on design details.
• Ensure everyone understands why they are at the meeting by defining the goals of the project and the roles each person plays in making it successful. Including yourself. It's ok to say, "I'm here to run the meeting and approve the design language."
• Quickly and nicely shut down any "details" conversations. Example, "That's an interesting point about details we aren't discussing at this time. Maybe we should test it later. Do you want to chat after work over a beer? ...Ask someone to stay late, and they'll be quiet. 
• Approve in stages. Standards, UI, and design language should are established earlier in projects. 
• Give it a shot and let me know how it goes. I'd love to hear other tactics that work. 

Short on Thought

Recently, I left my role at Radius as Chief Creative Officer. When departing the office, I had to move my design books out of the space. The collection of books used to be quite extensive, but a series of moves and book loans (I know who you are) has left me a modestly curated collection of about 150 books. Once such book is Lester Beall Space, Time, & Content. One of two books I own about the designer I've long admired, Lester Beall. While putting my books on a new shelf, this book fell out of the box. 

Beall's work spanned decades, from the 30's through the 60's, and had a marvelous way of balancing the serious and the playful. These traits are especially apparent in his "utility work." Beall worked during a time where Design was dominated by Europe and various movements like the Bauhaus. However, he somehow found a way to ignite American design, paving the way for other great American designers to follow.   

I picked up the fallen book, a little sad because it had been a long time since I had opened it and found the quote below. It seems truer than ever and is worth pondering. If you aren't familiar with LB, look him up. 

The art world is long on skills and short on thought. It is wrong to believe that modern design problems are solved by a series of snap judgements. 

~ Lester Beall, decades ago