Good design should be about creating multi-sensory experiences. However, today, as designers are asked to prove their worth through spreadsheets and numbers, our work is often reduced to what can be shown or explained using rational thinking.

It seems like we’ve forgotten what it means to engage with the parts of our bodies that can’t be seen on a Zoom call. It seems like we’ve forgotten that feelings that live in our bodies are central to how we engage with the world and other people.

DesignShift: From creating for/from the intellectual mind to creating for/from the living body.

What does it mean to create FOR the living body?
What does it mean to create FROM the living body?
Thinking, Being, Doing, Sensing, Feeling, Holding… How can we design beyond the intellectual mind?

All those things that make us human and connected go beyond the intellect. They touch us on a deeper, more expansive level. They make us come alive in ways that cannot be explained or proven. They can only be felt in our bodies.

If we want to move from designing things to designing change, rather than simplifying the complex, we must find ways to hold and be with the complexity that exists around us and inside of us. Rather than rushing to fix, solve, or clean up, we must embrace contradictions and tensions as essential parts of the design process.

hashtag#DesignShift 16: From Glorifying Simplicity to Holding Complexity.

One of my favorite tools for holding complexity is called Vent Diagrams. A “vent diagram” is a diagram of the overlap of two statements that appear to be true and appear to be contradictory. The goal is to purposefully not label the overlapping middle.

Making vent diagrams as a practice helps us recognize and reckon with contradictions and keep imagining and acting from the intersections and overlaps. Venting is an emotional release, an outlet for our anger, frustration, despair -- and as a vent enables stale, suffocating air to flow out, it allows new fresh air to cycle in and through.

We’re trying to make “vents” in both senses of the word: tiny windows for building unity and power, emotional releases of stale binary thinking in order to open up a trickle of fresh ideas and air.

@Vent_Diagrams: contradicting truths towards collective liberation, is assembled by artist Rachel Schragis & teacher E.m. Eisen-Markowitz, two queer white jews on turtle island

What would it look like to Shift the practice and purpose of design away from commerce and commodities towards care and community?

This question is at the heart of many of the DesignShifts I’m exploring. Much of design today is in service of commerce. We create or improve things in order to sell more of them. In the world of commerce, everything — even our water, land, emotions — are turned into commodities that can be bought and sold with the help of design.

While this is the reality in a capitalist society, I can’t help but wonder what it would look like to Shift of focus away from commerce and commodification towards care and community.

DesignShift: What if... our work was in service of communities flourishing rather than company growth? What if... we could put genuine, non-transactional care at the center of our practices, purpose, and processes? What if... we could move design away from private interests towards public good?

We need new ways for design to be of service to the greater good. We need to dream beyond the question “but who is gonna pay for it” and imagine a world where everything that makes life worth living can’t be bought and sold. And as Arturo Escobar said in Designs for the Pluriverse, We need designers to “walk hand in hand with those who are protecting and redefining well-being, life projects, territories, local economies, and communities worldwide.”

As designers, how do we stay rooted in an industry that is always changing? It’s estimated that 90% of the world's data was generated in the last two years alone. With a constant stream of “new” information, trends quickly become truths as we try to design what’s new and what’s n

When algorithms and that internal voice tell us to read, respond, and engage with everything, how do we let go of reactivity and become rooted in the things that matter?

DesignShift: From Reactive to Rooted.

What can we gain from 🐌slow? That is a question I’ve been asking myself as I’ve taken some time to slow down. For so many years, I was moving at the speed of the industry. Always pushing myself to do a little more, try a little harder, and create a little more. This chase for more made me feel less. Less happy with the work I was doing. Less motivated to create change. Less able to dream about a better future. Guided by the speed of the market, the love I felt for design faded. Creativity lost its magic. And everything started to feel like a task to be completed, rather than an experience to be enjoyed.

Through slowness, I’ve been able to rebuild, recenter, and respark my love for design and social impact. In moments of slowness, I’ve started to see things clearer and feel things more deeply. I’ve experienced what slow feels like when designing my own life. Now, I want to explore what slow can mean for the practice of design.

DesignShift: From speed to market to slowing down.
🐌What would it look like to shift the focus from designing for the speed of the market to designing for the speed of trust, nature, and our hearts and minds?
🐌What does slow design look like? What would it mean for our processes, our outputs, our teams?
🐌What would it look like to design not for the next quarter of a year, but for the next quarter of a century?

What if… instead of centering our organizations around single stars that cast a shadow on everyone else, we created environments where many sparks together could light up the whole room?

In the book, Emergent Strategy, adrienne maree brown (amb) writes about how many of the organizations working for social change rely on one single charismatic leader. It's the rock star who is put on a pedestal and expected to solve all our problems.

The idea of a single rock star doesn’t just show up in social change organizations. Presidents, sports stars, celebrities, CEOs… all positioned as the ones who will create a better country, company, or community for all of us. It’s the water we swim in and the ripples are pervasive.

The single rock star narrative doesn’t just create a power imbalance. It also creates an environment where according to amb “Rock stars get isolated, lose touch with our vulnerability, are expected to pull off superhero work, and generally burn out within a decade.” It creates a weak system that stands or falls (which it sooner or later does) on the shoulders of one person.

DesignShift 12: from one star to many sparks.

The best missions won’t be illuminated without a depth of knowledge and a breath of people. Through distribution we can create a sustained light that illuminates every corner, not just the corner offices.

If creativity becomes about clicking a button to turn our work into reality, haven’t we lost what creating is all about? The PROCESS of bringing something to life… The trial and errors… The unstructured play… The mistakes that turn into unexpected solutions…

DesignShift: From performing to process.

A while ago, I heard someone say that they like how AI can help them bring their ideas to life instantly. I remember thinking that this person is either overworked or does not like the creative process.

If we want to skip the making part of “making” something, do we really want to make or do we just want to "make it"?

Good design is a dance between curiosity and criticality. As designers, we love asking, “how might we” but we also have to ask “at what cost.” Design can heal but it can also harm. As designers, we must balance possibilities and responsibilities. We must be curious AND critical.

Good design is frictionless, right?

Designers quickly learn that friction = bad. We spend most of our time trying to remove friction in order improve experiences. However, is this desire for — or should I say obsession with — frictionlessness always a good thing? Can friction actually enrich experiences?

DesignShift: From Frictionless to Frictionful.

Last weekend while hiking up a mountain, Molly Oberholtzer and I started talking about friction and design. She said this:

“We spend so much time making things frictionless, but by making it frictionless we make it forgettable. Friction is often the most memorable part.”

“When you learn that you can handle some friction, you realize you can handle even more. By always trying to reduce even small amounts of friction, we take away our own power to handle hard things.”

Her reflections made me think... As designers, how can friction help us create more memorable experiences? How can it help us do hard things?

A lot of design is done in the name of innovation and recognition. We try to design what’s new and what’s next in order to become a leader or gain recognition. But as we chase the extraordinary, are we losing sight of what really matters?

DesignShift: From chasing the extraordinary to valuing the ordinary.

Our strive for more often makes us feel less. Less happy with the work we are doing. Less satisfied in our relationships. Less content with the things we create. The same way we fail to notice the beauty of ordinary people, we forget to notice the beauty of an ordinary life.

Nature used to influence how we designed. Now how we design influences nature.

We used to design tools based on the material we had at hand. We used to let the wind guide how we constructed buildings. Our design choices (and life) used to be influenced by the natural, local environment. Now, we’re creating global solutions and implementing technologies that help us (momentarily) override nature. The price we pay in disconnection and destruction.

DesignShift: What would it look like to shift from design decisions that influence nature to nature influencing our design decisions? How can we let nature guide us? What are inspiring movements and projects you’ve seen?

What would it look like to move design from a tool that supports consumption to a practice that centers contentment?

Our endless focus on MORE creates a world where we feel “less than”. And when we feel “less than”, we consume in order to fill the void created by a mind that is always running.

What if design could help us learn our triggers, see things more clearly, and maybe even make us feel more satisfied with what we already have?

This post is inspired by a great conversation with Anna Rátkai, who explores design and overconsumption.

“There are significant differences between building a plane and building relationships.” “Imagine what could go wrong if you try to build a plane without calculations and projections. Now think about what could go wrong if you try to build relationships based on calculations and projections.“

-Hospicing modernity

DesignShift: Design within modernity has been focused on creating things. Products, buildings, stuff… We’re slowly shifting our focus away from creating things towards creating change. As we shift from building things to also building relationships, what do we need to learn/unlearn/relearn? Which tools are still helpful? Which are harmful?

Designers love to talk about how we’re problem-solvers. We’re not just making things pretty, but we solve COMPLEX problems.

But what if people don’t need us to solve their problems? What if people already have the answers within themselves? What if the people closest to the problem are more equipped than designers to solve things?

DesignShift 4: What would it look like to shift designers from solvers to servers? From heroes to helpers?

What would it look like to de-center ourselves, our frameworks, and our ⬦⬦ processes in service of sustainable change? Could design actually be a way to help other human beings get to their own conclusion?

(This post is inspired by movements like community building/design, co-design, design justice, participatory design)

Designers love to talk about how we’re problem-solvers. We’re not just making things pretty, but we solve COMPLEX problems.

But what if people don’t need us to solve their problems? What if people already have the answers within themselves? What if the people closest to the problem are more equipped than designers to solve things?

DesignShift 4: What would it look like to shift designers from solvers to servers? From heroes to helpers?

What would it look like to de-center ourselves, our frameworks, and our ⬦⬦ processes in service of sustainable change? Could design actually be a way to help other human beings get to their own conclusion?

(This post is inspired by movements like community building/design, co-design, design justice, participatory design)

How about… instead of moving fast and breaking “things” we slowed down and prioritized human and planetary boundaries?

Moving fast doesn’t just lead to broken things, it leads to broken-down people and a broken planet. In pursuit of what is next and what’s new, we're using the earth and people beyond their boundaries.

Not enough time to make sure that we don’t harm the planet through our work… Not enough time to build trust with communities… not enough time to create healthy team environments… all in pursuit of what? Much of our design work hides behind the illusion that “it will all be worth it in the end when we’ve launched that next “xyz.” It almost never is.

DesignShift: how might we shift from breaking things to designing within existing boundaries?

What would happen if we shifted our mindset from one that is motivated by fear to one that is catalyzed by love?

I often think about how fear drives many of our decisions and actions. The fear of people stealing our ideas. The fear of the competition going to market before we do. The fear of getting fat. Or old. Or forgotten.
Fear can motivate us to take action; To go to the gym when we don’t feel like it or to keep working on our ideas when inspiration starts to fade. But fear also brings with it a sense of not-enoughness. The fear of not doing enough. The fear of not being enough.

What if… fear is not the best way to achieve our goals or save the planet? What if LOVE could be our motivator and catalyst? Fear is rooted in scarcity: I’m not enough and I don’t have enough. Fear prioritizes “me.” Love centers wholeness: I am already enough and there is enough for everyone. Love prioritizes “we”

What if… instead of saying: “l am fighting climate change because I'm scared the world will end” we said: “I love this earth so much, therefore I want to do everything I can to protect it.” Instead of thinking: “I need to share another post because I am scared that I will become irrelevant, we centered the idea of: “I love this topic/idea and I want to gift it to people?”

If we moved from fear to love, how would our work change? If we moved from fear to love, how will our lives change?

Why do we keep thinking that designers are unbiased and neutral? Why do we keep thinking that “design” is universal and replicable?Design is about understanding historical contexts, cultural and environmental nuances, and social and political patterns. These things relate to the place where the design takes place.

As long as we keep thinking that our processes and our people can be applied to any context, culture, or challenge in a formulaic way, we will keep causing unintended harm.

There is nothing neutral about design. It can either harm or help on an individual, cultural, and systematic level.

DesignShift: From universal principles to regional differences.

What would it look like to shift our focus from universal principles to local practices? What if we let go of the white supremacy norm of “one objective truth” and invited and celebrated local knowledge as principles for our designs? What would it look like to design with place-fullness in mind?