I have wanted to write about this topic for a while.
In the last couple of years, I have read a handful of articles and comments about the current “state of design.” In those articles, the authors express wanting to reverse UI and UX design to a previous, supposedly more virtuous state. They mostly discuss how structure and process affect the field, the strong influence of data-based evidence and, in general, a longing to return to a craft-oriented practice.
Most of the arguments that formed these articles were very shallow and ill-informed (even though they came from sources I once considered trustworthy.) At its core, we are talking about the classic fantasy of going back to an idyllic point, back in time, that never really existed. There is also the possibility that these articles were written just to get angry clicks and engagement from readers like myself. These are the main reasons I would rather avoid addressing these articles directly. Still, I think there’s value in exploring the core topics behind these ideas: The nature of creativity and the expectations of our careers as “creatives.”
So, with all the use of that word, let’s try to define what “creativity” means.
What is this “creativity” thing anyways
I will not try to define what creativity is as a whole. That is way above my intellectual capacity. Can someone not be creative? Is it something akin to intelligence? Can creativity and intelligence be opposed at some point? What’s the role of imagination and abstraction? Those are the questions you will encounter if you try to search deeply into the philosophical meaning of creativity. I do not have answers for that, and you will probably find conflicting interpretations depending on the source and focus (as with everything in the philosophical world.)
However, we can define what creativity means for us pedestrians in our day-to-day lives, not only as designers but generally as “productive” actors in our society. In its purest form, we say something is creative when we see an original idea with a perceivable value. We understand “original” as something not considered before in that context and “value” as something that solves a problem or delivers an expected result.
Under this interpretation, we can have complex and original ideas that are not creative and creative ways to do simple and mundane things. Creativity has value, but not only because it shows something new; it is valuable because people can benefit from what it proposes. Of course, there are degrees of originality and value, especially in a reality where everything is a remix.
Yes, originality can inflate the value just because of the shiny-new-thing factor. Furthermore, you might argue that creativity in art is almost entirely focused on uniqueness, but that’s a whole different universe, and well... we are not artists.
An idea can be creative, but it becomes a bad idea if it cannot be executed or does not deliver the expected value. This means that creativity is not constant because the value can change. Ideas themselves can hold a potential worth which can become real or not, the same way the shareholders of a startup are only really millionaires once the company becomes public and the shares can be sold.
In its most basic form, creativity is problem-solving because it creates value when it removes what used to be a problem, and if it was a problem, we can assume it was because nobody tried that solution before.
That is my super-basic idea of creativity for the common folk, and I will base the rest of this post on it.
Anyone can cook be creative
Having a clear definition is very useful to start demystifying something. Even in forums and talks, when creativity is discussed and people are encouraged to be creative, the topic is still treated like a magic force that “you too can acquire” instead of a mundane skill available to most humans. Just look at the concept of being a “creative person” as if it is something you achieve for life, or a genetic trait, instead of an output that is variable and transitory.
This perception of creativity as a power might be responsible for two somewhat opposed concepts. The first is that creativity is limited to certain practices, and the second is that “creative people” can be creative in any context.
The first one is usually a straw man, and I think nobody really believes that engineers, managers, or plumbers can’t develop creative solutions for their daily challenges. We all work toward outcomes, which are sometimes obtained innovatively. The only difference is that creative output is sometimes more visible in some areas, meaning the value is easily perceived by the general public. For example, it might be hard for us to perceive the creativity behind some software just because we expect everything to be possible in today’s world. We are unaware of the team’s technical challenges in creating such tools and the creative ways to solve them.
The only advantage designers have over other professions is that we consciously engage with creativity, partly due to the high value of originality in design.
The second concept is more complex. If we keep thinking of creativity as a power, we will believe that it can be used by anyone who holds it under any circumstances. When I was a young kid learning to become “creative” and expecting to work as a copywriter for an ad agency, I thought pure intellectual power was the main thing I needed to create good ideas; that, with enough time, I could deduce my way out of any challenge. I believed I was on the same level as people with much more experience because I had “it” too. I found the truth rather quickly that for us, meat computers, to produce good output, we require valuable data as input in addition to processing capacity (and also that the meat computers need specific conditions to operate at full power). Eureka moments need particular circumstances to occur, which are as important as the capacity to exploit them.
The “creative person” myth wants us to believe that some people can be creative in any field or level just because they have succeeded in one, making it a potent fuel for the Dunning–Kruger effect. I am sure that most people have experienced somebody with little or no experience in their fields trying to mansplain to them how to do their jobs better, providing them with unrequested ideas that only make sense in their limited perception.
Yes, creative ideas can come up in a flash, without context, from anyone. Similarly, you can win the lottery tomorrow. Shots in the dark can statistically hit their target, but are you willing to risk being in that dark room when the gun is fired? That is why we are not running brainstorms about cold fusion with laypersons. We know that the only way to move towards a solution to a problem requires knowledge of the variables in place (not to mention finding the problem first.)
Yes, creative ideas can come up in a flash, without context, from anyone. Similarly, you can win the lottery tomorrow. Shots in the dark can statistically hit their target, but are you willing to risk being in that dark room when the gun is fired? That is why we are not running brainstorms about cold fusion with laypersons. We know that the only way to move towards a solution to a problem requires knowledge of the variables in place (not to mention finding the problem first.)
You’re killing me, process
I do not think any designer truly believes that an infamous Process™ is killing creativity. We all have our processes. It is how our mind gets all those variables required to generate creative outputs, and as I mentioned before, we engage with it in a very conscious way. There is no unique Design Process™ or ultimate checklist because Design is not an assembly line. Not all challenges start at the same spot and require the same output. The design process is a vast collection of tools we use to inform ourselves; there is no canon, and some of these tools go out of fashion because they are not perceived as effective anymore. That is why personas are not that popular nowadays, and classic brainstorming is no longer the staple of the ideation stage.
What in reality preoccupies some designers is that validation—not process—kills potential good ideas before they even see the light of day. That is why this topic is usually accompanied by a diatribe against data, which is viewed as the coldest form of validation.
More than once, I have heard the argument that the Hamburger menu might not be super intuitive, but it managed to become a standard navigational pattern in today’s digital language and that it could not have survived modern scrutiny. The truth is that not only the Hamburger menu has been around since 1981, but its inventors were still concerned if it made sense for its limited quantity and highly specialized group of users. Sadly, after all these years in existence (and the collective effort of all UI designers in the first days of mobile interfaces trying to obtain more real estate by hiding elements behind these things), Hamburger menus are still bad at engagement and discoverability and only applicable under particular situations. In conclusion, it never was a risky idea that became a success story. It was more a pattern that became recognizable only because designers insisted on it, and even with that recognition, it is usually not the best solution.
If you still believe that the Hamburger is a success story, consider all those frustrated, lost users used as guinea pigs for years because that icon with three lines didn’t make sense to them. If you believe your non-validated idea is worth risking your current users, hoping it will become popular with other designers despite poor results and become somewhat helpful in 30-40 years, be my guest.
Risk is really the whole idea behind the process and validation. That is why we define jobs, sketch, prototype and do all these fancy things. We want to minimize risk and maximize the chance of a successful design. Data is just one of the faces of validation, which tells us if we are reaching a particular objective or not. If not validating before releasing is a shot in the dark, not measuring success is not even knowing if you hit the target. It is “Design by good vibes only.” Numbers, of course, are just one dimension. If you focus on data only, you will end up working with dark patterns that are good for pumping up the numbers instead of providing a good experience.
If designers want a “set at the table,” they have to share the vision of the table and start thinking about the broader implications of what they do. If a company decides to trust the direction of its products in the hands of designers, designers should respond by responsibly handling that power.
This does not mean creating a risk-averse culture. Validation invites designers to test more things and even to experiment with new patterns if the possibility of failure means something other than costing the company lots of revenue. If risks are calculated, they can happen more often.
Make Design pretty again
The reality of this validation aversion is that, ultimately, some designers just want to do visually stunning things. That is why some argue that design is losing its status as a craft and that UI is over-relying on existing patterns, not to mention the aversion to minimalism and the dislike of the fact that a growing percentage of UX and Product designers are not graphic designers (gasp!)
The reality of this validation aversion is that, ultimately, some designers just want to do visually stunning things. That is why some argue that design is losing its status as a craft and that UI is over-relying on existing patterns, not to mention the aversion to minimalism and the dislike of the fact that a growing percentage of UX and Product designers are not graphic designers (gasp!)
The most important part of this puzzle is how the world of digital media has changed. When I was a kid, the internet was only about broadcasting anything into the world. Those messages were quite simple, and there were only a few opportunities for brands to do anything useful there. Then, technology helped create an internet where websites started becoming destinations. Flash was king, and we visited the internet to be amazed. Brands began appearing, but there was no real reason to visit a page often. When web 2.0 happened, websites became tools instead of destinations, and content became king. After that, with the arrival of mobile tech, the website stopped being the center of everything and became just a node of more comprehensive digital service. That is when Product designers started appearing.
Something similar happened with mobile apps. An app was a destination by itself, which is why most of them were paid, and some people created lucrative businesses creating silly novelty apps. Nowadays, apps are just a piece of the puzzle. Nothing is just an app anymore (except for your Sudoku app of choice).
We know that there is no such thing as a final product, and everything is always subject to evaluation and improvement. Digital products have the advantage of being more resilient to change thanks to their immaterial nature, and they don’t have to stand still while watching the market move away. That is why even today’s most expertly crafted experiences must be evaluated and measured; success is only momentary.
We know that there is no such thing as a final product, and everything is always subject to evaluation and improvement. Digital products have the advantage of being more resilient to change thanks to their immaterial nature, and they don’t have to stand still while watching the market move away. That is why even today’s most expertly crafted experiences must be evaluated and measured; success is only momentary.
Some designers find mental solace in the idea that industrial designers are still building aesthetically beautiful products that comply with the most strict user-interface guidelines. Unfortunately, these are apples and oranges and a complete lack of understanding of the purpose of designing. The social, emotional and aspirational jobs of physical objects are wildly different from the ones of digital experiences, especially when you don’t “own” these experiences.
But let us engage in that conversation; after all, digital products are often part of bigger ecosystems that include hardware. No, I will not talk about the beautiful and “innovative” trashcan Mac Pro. Let us consider instead how beautiful cars were in the ’50s and ’60s. Those are lovely vehicles with unique and timeless designs. Nevertheless, the automotive industry and its consumers move to other pastures. Security became a priority, and those beautiful cars were deadly traps. Not to mention efficiency, reliance, support and price. Builders can work on expensive machines for the ultra-rich, crazy concept cars that can barely function, wacky ideas that don’t pass the regulations in any country, or on whole markets based on nostalgia and recreation, but nobody is rallying to see tail fins back in the streets. Instead, we have a bunch of boxy pickups with huge and dangerous grilles selling like hotcakes in North America, not because they are pretty, but because they offer a sense of fortitude and security that is important for the current market. And this will continue changing the way digital products also keep changing. Boxy pickups will become a thing of the past. Eventually, nostalgic folks will look at them as the pinnacle of beauty because it was present around meaningful moments of their personal development.
It is not that evil VPs and Product Owners are impeding the release of pretty interfaces. It is that visuals carry a different weight in our current Zeitgeist. People usually want predictive behaviours and reliable experiences in their digital tools, and I already wrote a whole thing about it. Delight is now a broader concept, not limited to pretty things. If you want to spend time creating beautiful visual interfaces, you might need to find somebody that needs it, not force it into something that does not. You are not doing art. UI, UX and Product design have nothing to do with being an artist. If somebody told you that, they were lying to you.
I am not trying to be a gatekeeper. It is the reality of what we do daily and what people hire us for. It is about having clear expectations. If you want to be an artist, you will be bored designing apps (and I do not want to imagine how you react to negative feedback from users or peers). This mentality of thinking about design as an end rather than a tool is counter-intuitive to the Product mindset, constantly iterating, throwing things into the garbage and letting ideas go. You will not be able to find solutions to questions if you always hope to use the same answer for all of them.
I still believe there are many opportunities to do beautiful things in the language of digital interfaces. The simplicity of modern UI gives more power to colour and typography. Alternatively, there might be other avenues of digital expression that are more subversive and dismissive toward expected patterns, where wild designs are exactly what the brief requests. Or everything might change! Hell, maybe most UIs will be conversational in 10 years, and we will all talk about the good old days of the buttons. Who knows! I’m a dude writing long articles for fun in the age of ChatGPT. Don’t take my word for it.
The real dangers of The Process™
During the last 20 or 15 years, in that effort to demystify the creative process, we came up with something called “Design thinking” (it is way older than that, but it reached peak mainstream popularity in the 00s.) At its best, Design Thinking is just a standardization of the principles and strategies of the design process. Nothing more than a set of tools that might help generate, identify, and consciously validate ideas. There is no definitive path, no assurance, and there’s no agenda.
Because it reached such popularity, it was transformed into a cookie-cutter solution. Nevertheless, even in its simplest form, it worked as a great tool to kickstart a more serious product process or dip their toes in innovation. The problem came when designers drank their own Kool-aid and started to believe that every problem in the world could be solved if you have enough post-its, even the most complex social issues. Design was going to save the world!
Then, the reality-distortion field disappeared, and it was evident that this pre-packaged version of Design Thinking had its limitations. People in meeting rooms pat themselves on the back for coming up with great ideas while paying no attention to the implementation or simply doing a lousy job validating with the right people. Rebecca Ackerman wrote a great article about the broken promises of this idealistic version of Design Thinking.
I was one of those designers working on multiple discoveries per year. Some of them felt as shallow as the ones I mentioned before. In fact, I became a Product designer because I didn’t want to keep living in that world of fictional creativity. I wanted to be part of the people that not only come up with new ideas but also be part of the people that build them, follow up on them and keep building on them. One of my biggest frustrations as a designer was not being sure if my ideas had a real impact. That is why working without objectives, validation, and measurement sounds so insane to me. I still believe in the core promise of Design Thinking. However, for me, nothing beats the feeling of owning an experience.
That is why I invite other designers who are unhappy with what they are doing to look at themselves and see what they expect of their profession and how aligned they are with the purpose of the organization or product they work for. Find your market.
It is essential to question what we do and not take our processes for granted, which is why the designer’s tool belt keeps evolving daily. And, maybe someday, this romantic idea of over-designed ideas will become effective, but you better have proof. While that happens, stop thinking like this:
