Having worked with a variety of designers in my time, I found this piece interesting from not only the perspective of a designer but also from that of most creatives. She, as in Shreya Agarwal, asks pertinent questions about which we all have pondered at one time or another. My question to you is this: Do you agree? Comments?
*********
As I transitioned from the consultancy to the in-house design universe, a lingering question became my guiding star: What truly brings a design to life?
My time as a consultant was full of lessons learned across diverse industries and work cultures. As my former boss aptly noted, we should be paying our clients for the crash courses we received with each new project. However, I felt a sense of dissatisfaction. I yearned for my designs to be more than just concepts — I wanted them to inhabit the real world, to be used, tested, and improved upon.
After spending some time as a designer in a product company, my perception of the design role has undergone a shift, and I believe it’s a change for the better.
We’re all familiar with the romanticized notion of a ‘designer’. In this fantastical world, problems fall neatly into line, leaving us with ample time for creative musings. Our brilliance is celebrated, and our perspectives are treated as profound wisdom. We’re devoted to catering to every user, doing deep research, and crafting smooth micro-interactions.
In an ideal world, it would be sunny-side up, but reality’s clouds have a habit of raining on our parade.
How often have we been told, “This looks great, but it’s not feasible”? How many times has our enthusiasm been dampened by the weight of business constraints? This pain is real and shared by many, including myself. Yet, I’ve grown to relish these moments. Now, every time someone utters those discouraging words, I respond with a curious, “Which part? Why not? How can we change it? How can we enhance it?” I prioritize the well-being of users over the pixel-perfect transition from Figma to code, which becomes less crucial. What truly matters is delivering value to users, regardless of the means. This leads me to the question that continually echoes in my thoughts: Who can collaborate with me to transform my design into reality?
Design isn’t a lone ranger, it doesn’t ride solo; it’s more like a supporting actor in a complex drama. Design exists in a symphony with other functions like product, engineering, and analytics. This collaboration and compromise is the journey from creation to implementation. It’s the teamwork with engineers who turn your meticulously crafted visions into digital reality, with product managers who chart the course, and with analytics that provide the feedback loop for iterative improvement. However, let’s address the misconception that some designers harbor, I did too — the idea of single-handedly reshaping the universe through a UI overhaul. Allow me to interject with a resounding “Ahem, no.”
Yes, that’s the revelation. Design isn’t here to sprinkle fairy dust on the company; it’s here to serve business goals. Granted, serving the business also involves doing good by the user.
A good design can sometimes be the tiniest adjustments that wield the most significant impact. Because, let’s be honest, even seemingly minor modifications like resizing carousels or revamping interactions can come with hefty price tags. From my counterparts in product management, arises a crucial question for every designer: What is the return on investment for this design?
Design embarks on a journey — from pixels on your screen to the engineers’ coding stations, culminating in its release into the wild. This is why, before you seek investments from a myriad of collaborators (product, engineers, analytics, marketing, and beyond), ask yourself this question: Does it merit bringing this design to life? It is not about possessiveness over your design but nurturing it, allowing it to adapt and endure the rigors of technical considerations, budget constraints, and ever-shifting user landscapes.
Design can be extravagant or accessible, the essence lies in understanding your company’s ethos and financial scope. My personal quest is to make the most bang for the least buck, maximizing impact while minimizing expenditure.
Being a designer resembles tightrope walking — a delicate balance of creative aspirations and business considerations, the sweet spot where brilliance meets pragmatism, where innovation doesn’t tip over into extravagance. So, how much design is too much design? Well, it’s the amount you can manage without tumbling off the rope.
***********
For the most part, I agree with her perspective. However, IMHO, good design echoes and enhances the idea it is supporting. If the design is such that it overtakes the idea or muddies the concept, not to mention the message, one might need to go back to the proverbial drawing board.
The challenge to those egotistical creatives out there (most, if not all of us) is to strike that balance between creativity and the constraints that embody the project as it is presented to us. Admittedly, that’s easier said than done. But try we must. Failure’s a part of the process . That’s a possible outcome of reality. It’s included at no extra charge during the process of creativity. Those who embrace that concept will be better off than those who don’t.
Hopefully making a ruckus, one blog post at a time!
Be sure to check out my other blog, Joe’s Journey, for personal insights on life and its detours.
And, check out creative selections from my website.
Jolan tru!