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There are a few ongoing debates in the world of digital design. Things like Should designers code?”, “What’s the value of design?”, “UX versus UI,” and, perhaps most fundamentally, “Is everyone a designer?” To get a taste for the flavor of that last one, you can step into this Twitter thread from a little while back (TLDR: It didn’t go super well for anyone):

To be clear at the outset, I don’t care if everyone is a designer. However, I’ve been considering this debate for a while and I think there is something interesting here that’s worth further inspection: Why is design a lightning rod for this kind of debate? This doesn’t happen with other disciplines (at least not to the extent it does with design). Few people are walking around asserting that everyone is an engineer, or a marketer, or an accountant, or a product manager. I think the reason sits deep within our societal value system.

Design, as a term, is amorphous. Technically you can design anything from an argument to an economic system and everything in between, and you can do it with any process you see fit. We apply the idea of design to so many things that, professionally, it’s basically a meaningless term without the addition of some modifier: experience design, industrial design, interior design, architectural design, graphic design, fashion design, systems design, and so on. Each is its own discipline with its own practices, terms, processes, and outputs. However, even with its myriad applications and definitions, the term “design” does carry a set of foundational, cultural associations: agency and creativity. The combination of these associations makes it ripe for debates of ownership.

Agency


To possess agency means to have the ability to affect outcomes. Without agency we’re just carried by the currents, waiting to see where we end up. Agency is control, and deep down we all want to feel like we have control. Over time our cultural conversation has romanticized design, unlike any other discipline, as the epicenter of agency, a crossroads where creativity and planning translate into action.

At its core, design is the act of applying structure to a set of materials or elements in order to achieve a specific outcome. This is a fundamental human need. It’s not in our nature to leave things unstructured. Even the concept of “unstructured play” simply means providing space for a child to design (structure) their own play experience — the unstructured part of it is just us (adults) telling ourselves to let go of our own desire to design and let the kids have a turn. We hand agency to the child so they can practice wielding it.

There are few, if any, activities that carry the same deep tie to the concept of agency that design does. This is partially why no one cares to assert things like we’re all marketers or we’re all engineers. They don’t carry the same sense of agency. Sure, engineers have the ability to make something tangible, but someone had to design that thing first. You can “design” the code that goes into what you are building, but you do not have the agency to determine what is being built (unless you are also designing it).

If we really break it down, nearly every job in existence is either a job where you are designing, or a job where you are completing a set of tasks in service to something that was designed, or a job where your tasks are made possible by some aspect of design, or some mix of the three. Either way, the act of “designing” is what dictates the outcomes.

Creativity


The other key aspect of our cultural definition of design is creativity. Being creative is a deep value of modern society. We lionize the creatives, in the arts as well as in business. And creativity has become synonymous with innovation. There is a reason that for most people, Steve Wozniak is a bit player in the story of Steve Jobs.

The idea of what it means for an individual to be creative is something that has shifted over time. In her TED Talk, Elizabeth Gilbert discusses the changing association of creative “genius.” The historical concept, from ancient Greece and Rome, was that a person could have a genius, meaning that they were a conduit for some external creative force. The creative output was not their own; they were merely a vessel selected to make a creative work tangible. Today, we talk about people being a genius, meaning they are no longer a conduit for a creative force, but instead they are the creative force and the output of their creativity is theirs.

This seemingly minor semantic shift is actually seismic in that it makes creativity something that can be possessed and, as such, coveted. We now aspire to creativity in the same way we aspire to wealth. We teach it and nurture it (to varying degrees) in schools. And in professional settings, having the ability to be “creative” in your daily work is often viewed as a light against the darkness of mundane drudgery. As we see it today, everyone possesses some level of creativity, and fulfillment is found in expressing it. When we can’t get that satisfaction from our jobs we find hobbies and other activities to fulfill our creative needs.

So, our cultural concept of design makes tangible two highly desirable aspects of human existence: agency and creativity. Combine this with the amorphous nature of the term “design” and suddenly “designer” becomes a box that anyone can step into and many people desire to step into. This sets up an ongoing battle over the ownership of design. We just can’t help ourselves.

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Take again, as proxy, our approach to the arts. While we lionize musicians, actors, artists, and other creators, we simultaneously feel compelled to take ownership of their work, critiquing it, questioning their creative decisions, and making demands based on our own desires. The constant list of demands and grievances from Star Wars fans is a perfect example. Or the fans who get upset if a band doesn’t play their favorite hit song at a show. Even deeper, we feel a universal right to remix things, cover things, and steal things.

Few people want to own the nuts-and-bolts process of designing, but everyone wants to have their say on the final output.

But just like other things we covet, what we desire is ownership over the output, not the process of creating it. For example, we’re willing to illegally download music, movies, books, games, software, fonts, and images en masse, dismissing the work it took to create it and sidestepping the requirement to compensate the creator.

A similar phenomenon occurs in the world of design. Few people want to own the nuts-and-bolts process of designing, but everyone wants to have their say on the final output. And because design represents the manifestation of agency and creativity there is an expectation that all of that feedback will be heard and incorporated. Pushing back on someone’s design feedback is not just questioning their opinion, it’s a direct assault on their sense of agency.

As a result, final designs are often a Frankenstein of feedback and opinions from everyone involved in the design process. In contrast, it’s rare to see an engineer get feedback on the way code should be written from a person who doesn’t have “engineer” in their title. It’s also even more rare to see an engineer feel compelled to actually take that sort of feedback and incorporate it.

Another place this kind of behavior crops up is in the medical world. Lots of people love to give out health advice or question the decisions of doctors. However, few people would say “everyone is a physician.”

And I think this represents a critical point. There are two reasons that people do not assert that they are a physician unless they are actually a physician:

  1. 1. We have made a cultural decision that practicing medicine is too risky to allow just anyone to do it. You can go to jail for practicing medicine without a license.
  2. 2. No one actually wants to be responsible for the potential life and death consequences of the medical advice they give.

This highlights a third aspect of our cultural definition of design: Design is frivolous. Despite the connection between design and agency, many still view “designing” as trite and superficial.

Humans are sensory creatures. We absorb much of the world around us through visual, auditory, tactile, and olfactory inputs. Because of this, when we think of the agency inherent in design most of us think about it in terms of the aesthetic value of the output. Basically, we continually conflate design with art. If you don’t believe me, watch any episode of Abstract on Netflix. This is also why design programs are still housed in art schools.

So when most people critique designs, their focus is on aesthetics—colors, fonts, shape—and their reactions are based on the feelings and emotions those aesthetic values elicit. While aesthetics have an important role to play, they are only a piece of the overall puzzle. It is much harder for people to substantively critique the functional merits of a design or understand the potential impacts a design decision can have. That is partially why so many of our design decisions end up excluding certain groups of users or creating other unexpected negative consequences: We don’t critique our decisions through that lens.

Everyone is a designer because there is no perceived ramification for practicing design.

Because of this narrow, aesthetic-based view, the outcomes of the design process feel relatively inconsequential to many people, especially in comparison to something like the outcomes of a medical diagnosis. And if there are no consequences, why shouldn’t we all participate? Everyone is a designer because there is no perceived ramification for practicing design.

Of course, in reality, there are major consequences for the design decisions we make. Consequences that are more significant, on a population level, than many medical decisions a doctor makes.

What I’ve come to realize is that the idea that everyone is a designer is not really about some territorial fight for ownership; it’s actually a symptom of our broken culture of technology. Innovation (creativity) is our cultural gold standard. We push for it at all costs and we can’t be bothered by the repercussions. Design is the tool that gives form to that relentless drive. In a world of blitzscaling and “move fast and break things” it serves us to believe that our decisions have no consequences. If we truly acknowledged that our choices have real repercussions on people’s lives, then we would have to dismantle our entire approach to product development.

Today, “everyone is a designer” is used to maintain the status quo by perpetuating the illusion that we can operate with impunity, in a consequence-free fantasy land. It’s a statement that our decisions have no weight, so anyone can make them.

I said at the beginning that I don’t care if everyone is a designer, and I mean that. If we keep thinking of this debate as some territorial pissing match then we continue to abdicate our real responsibility, which is to be accountable for the things we create.

It really doesn’t matter who is designing. The only thing that matters is that we change our cultural conversation around the consequences of design. If we get real about the weight and impact that design decisions have on our world, and we all still want to take on the risk and responsibility that comes with that agency, then more power to all of us.

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“Why the ‘Everyone Is a Designer’ Debate Is Beside the Point” was originally published in Medium on January 22, 2020.

SCENE: AFTER HOURS IN A DARK CO-WORKING SPACE

FADE IN:

INT. DARK CO-WORKING SPACE — NIGHT

A solitary figure sits in front of a laptop, the only light source in the dimly lit room. Our protagonist, an innovative entrepreneur, is determined and focused.

Their face illuminated by the screen, the entrepreneur navigates the treacherous waters of the business world. Each keystroke is a testament to their resilience in facing countless challenges.

Tight deadlines, limited funding, investor expectations, and ever-changing regulations are just a few obstacles our main character must overcome. The market’s volatility adds to the chaos.

But the true test lies ahead as our protagonist faces their most formidable adversary yet: a behemoth competitor with seemingly bottomless pockets.

As tension mounts and stakes rise, our entrepreneur must dig deep, summoning every ounce of creativity and cunning to outsmart their well-funded rival.

FADE OUT

Launching a startup is akin to diving headfirst into an action-packed thriller, where each twist and turn brings new challenges, adrenaline-pumping moments, and the constant pursuit of triumph against all odds. In the dynamic world of startups, crafting a compelling narrative isn’t just about telling a story; it’s about creating an experience that resonates with your audience.

Like the art of filmmaking, entrepreneurship demands a compelling narrative and a deep connection with its audience. The magic of cinema captivates us with diverse stories and experiences; startups must also craft narratives that resonate with their target market. While studio blockbusters rely on massive marketing budgets, independent films thrive on the strength of their storytelling and buzz.

Like an indie film, most startups lack the funding to build and promote a product at a “blockbuster” level. So, they need to be scrappy and creative in leveraging the resources they have at their disposal. In both realms, success hinges on telling a story that engages, inspires, and connects with the audience. Without generous investors or a long runway, startups can still reach the next growth stage with the right strategy.

As entrepreneurs, the challenge lies in crafting a strategy that ensures product-market fit and fosters a meaningful connection with customers — just like a major movie producer bringing their vision to life on the silver screen.

SCENE: Navigating the hurdles of the competitive tech landscape

Startups face an uphill battle, navigating the relentless demands of limited resources, tight time constraints, and the imperative for rapid innovation, underscoring the unique challenges they endure amidst the broader business landscape. Building an experienced team within budget constraints while ensuring efficient product development poses significant hurdles.

Overlooking UX design in the early stages of product development can lead to disastrous outcomes, including negative user feedback, low adoption rates, and difficulty attracting investors. The startup failure rate is staggering, highlighting the critical need for strategic UX integration.

Navigating critical growth stages, startups require seasoned expertise to innovate and develop new products effectively. While entry-level staff may offer fresh insights, their limited hands-on experience necessitates significant guidance and strategic direction, demanding valuable time and energy from founders and ultimately hindering the development of meaningful strategies.

SCENE: Design intentionally to gain a competitive advantage and drive growth

Startups can leverage UX design to gain a competitive edge, attract and retain customers, build brand loyalty, and increase market share. By prioritizing intuitive and user-centric design principles, startups can mitigate risks, accelerate learning curves, and position themselves for success.

These principles include:

  1. An iterative design process that focuses on testing and learning.
  2. Feature prioritization that drives toward focused, high-value delivery for customers.
  3. Rapid prototyping to get continual feedback from potential customers.
  4. A technology approach that prioritizes efficiency and scalability.

Executing against these principles takes intentionality. Startups can start from the ground up by assembling an internal team, which means finding individuals who can design, prototype, code, conduct research, provide strategic insights, and more. Another approach is finding an experienced product design partner who can help companies confidently navigate the complexities of product innovation.

At Design Like You Mean It (DLYMI), we operate like an on-demand film crew, gathering collaborative teams experienced in their respective disciplines to work on projects. With a proven track record and insights from different industries and organizations, we are a special ops team offering extensive UX/UI expertise and years of collective knowledge to propel your company toward its next growth phase.

At DLYMI, we understand startups’ unique challenges and offer collaborative, human-centered design solutions tailored to your needs. We aim to empower startups to create thoughtful digital experiences that drive growth and innovation.

Startups and entrepreneurs are the lifeblood of innovation, job creation, and economic growth. By embracing UX design as a strategic imperative, startups can unlock their full potential, turning their stories into blockbuster successes that resonate with audiences worldwide. It’s time to spotlight the transformative power of UX design in the startup ecosystem.

SCENE: AFTER HOURS IN A DARK CO-WORKING SPACE

FADE IN:

INT. DARK CO-WORKING SPACE — NIGHT

Our protagonist sits hunched over, eyes fixed on the glowing screen. Fatigue is evident as our main character blinks hard, finally tearing their gaze away from the monitor.

After hours of intense research and meticulous review, the brave entrepreneur has an epiphany. The potential cost and efficiency benefits of hiring an “on-demand film crew” will consolidate many skills without the burden of filling each role individually.

Determinedly, the protagonist identifies the perfect partner to bring their vision to life, setting the stage for the venture to become a blockbuster success.

In a moment of triumph, our main character peaks the story’s climax, gaining a crucial competitive edge against the behemoth competitor with bottomless pockets.

In relief, our protagonist closes the laptop, knowing that experienced designers will help accelerate the learning curve.

FADE OUT

If you dig past the physical practice of yoga, you will uncover two key principles that can take your design practice to the next level.

Yoga is well known as a physical practice. In the United States especially, it is most commonly equated with exercise and physical fitness. But, Asana, the physical practice of yoga, is just the tip of the yogic iceberg. Yoga also has a rich set of teachings and philosophies, and this is where the magic happens.

There are two core principles to yoga: Abhyasa (pronounced ah-bee-YAH-sah), and Vairagya (vai-RAHG-yah).

Abhyasa is often translated as “constant exercise” or “constant practice.” In yoga this means developing a strong conviction and persistent effort to achieve the end goal, which, for Yogis, is self-understanding. This concept goes further to say that effort for efforts sake will not move you down the path. To truly move toward the end goal the effort must be focused and intentional. This requires routine and repetition. The core idea here is that to reach the goal you must never give up.

Vairagya, or non-attachment, means to free yourself of your emotional investment in outcomes, possessions, ideas and expectations. In yogic philosophy, worldly attachments stand in the way of self-understanding. This does not necessarily mean that you completely remove or do without those things. It means that you resolve to release your emotional connection to them. If you have something, or don’t, it doesn’t matter. The core idea here is that to reach the goal you must always let go.

A foundation of the practice of yoga is based in finding balance between these two seemingly contradictory principles: never give up and always let go. And these same core principles could not be more suited for the practice of design.

Abhyasa: Never Give Up

Persistence is the foundation of great design.

For starters, the only way to become a great designer is through constant practice. But not just practice for practice sake. Science writer Joshua Foer, in his book Maximize Your Potential, explores research completed by psychologist Anders Ericsson, in which he finds:

What separates experts from the rest of us is that they tend to engage in a very directed, highly focused routine, which Ericsson has labeled “deliberate practice.”

The way we practice is critical, and to be most effective it must push to the edges of our capabilities. Ericsson’s findings go further:

Deliberate practice, by its nature, must be hard.

When you want to get good at something, how you spend your time practicing is far more important than the amount of time you spend. … Regular practice simply isn’t enough. To improve, we must watch ourselves fail, and learn from our mistakes.

Something my friends and I used to say when we were snowboarding, “if you aren’t falling, you aren’t trying hard enough.” A great designer needs to be willing to constantly break out of her comfort zone and push herself to the point of falling.

Unfortunately, the path of least resistance is often the path previously taken. It takes an intentional and persistent effort to break away this path and push further.

Designing a routine (and sticking to it) can be a great way to consistently achieve this.

The idea of persistence in design is not only manifested in the process of becoming a great designer, but also in the process of design itself.

When presented with a problem it can be tempting to latch onto the first solution that presents itself, but great designers are willing to push on the problem from many different angles and then continue to push until their ideas break.

The process of continual pushing often ends with solutions that were unseen at the beginning and stronger than initial concepts.

The best solutions often come from a persistent, methodical process of working through lots of ideas, especially in the early stages of a project.

James Dyson, for example, in his quest to create a better vacuum, went through 5,127 prototypes before finalizing his design.

Pushing hard on your ideas requires persistence, but ultimately landing on the best solution means you also must be will to kill many of those ideas.

Vairagya: Always Let Go

At first blush the idea of applying non-attachment to design may seem counterintuitive. As designers it is our job to be attached. We are supposed to be the champions of the details. We are supposed to be concerned about the outcomes.

In reality, non-attachment is the central tenet of user-centered design. The point of the user-centered design process is to develop an empathic view of a problem from the users perspective so you can design a solution that fits their needs. In order to find empathy we attempt to eliminate our own preconceived notions, biases and expectations. However, the idea of eliminating those things is nearly impossible, as they are so fundamental to our worldview. What the principle of vairagya tells us is that we do not need to eliminate them. What we need to do is release our emotional attachment to them.

If you do up front work to identify your biases and assumptions around a project, then you allow yourself to be aware of them as they bubble up in your thinking. In this way you can acknowledging them and let them go. This can clear the path for a more empathetic approach to solving design problems. This is the same process as when applying non-attachment to meditation. The goal is not to try and force all the thoughts from your mind — that is a losing battle. Instead, you allow thoughts to come into your mind, you acknowledge them and then immediately let them go.

Practicing non-attachment also allows a designer to be more open to finding the best solution. As I said earlier, the best solutions often come from a persistent, methodical process of working through lots of ideas. If we carry an emotional attachment to our ideas it becomes harder and harder to move past them, which makes it more likely that we’ll stop before finding the best solution.

Being willing to let go of ideas leaves us open to all the possibilities.

For years now, athletes of all types have embraced the physical benefits of yoga to improve their performance. Likewise, designers can harness the deeper teachings of yoga to take their work to the next level.

It just takes practice.

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“Yoga and the Art of User Experience Design“ was originally published in Medium on January 15, 2015.