A couple weeks ago, I had the privilege of joining the wonderful folks at the d.school at stanford as a university innovation fellow. It was wonderful, and I met so many remarkable people from all over the world - Malaysia, Indonesia, Peru, India, the Netherlands, and even Georgia.
As a graduated industrial design student, the d.school is a big deal, especially for its role in popularizing design thinking and innovation.
Much of the UIF program’s curriculum has to do with facilitating design thinking, not necessarily participating in it. It entails quite a bit of empathy, creating psychologically safe spaces, and lots of questions.
The foundation for good design facilitation is self-awareness, critical thought, and self-discipline—to know your biases and not muddy the waters of other peoples’ thinking.
design vs. design thinking
Some design purists decry design thinking as an artificial form of design - a commoditized sibling for consultants and businesspeople. Designers (and architects) can be a fairly exclusive bunch. But where designers traditionally give form to ideas, design thinkers uncover the ideas in the first place (most designers do both).
I chose to study design with the intent of designing things, and came away with a fascination for designing ideas and systems.
Design thinking is relevant to everyone. In their own way, everyone is a designer. Everyone creates and optimizes within constraints, gauges input, and so on.
When people ask me what ‘industrial design’ means (the genre that I studied), I usually describe it as the discipline between engineering and art, or architecture but for the stuff that lives in your house. But of course, analogies are reductive. Design is a field defined by its breadth—it’s fascinating to think that every single man-made object was designed by someone for some particular reason.
It turns out, objects are not the only things that are designed. Interfaces, experiences, conversations, meetings - those can all be designed too. Design is a conscious act. It signifies intent.
some errant thoughts on what design is, ought to be, is not, etc.
what design is (and isn’t)
design is communication: one of my favorite professors beat this into us. sketching and modeling are great ways to communicate. so is speaking, writing, storytelling, and filmmaking. if ideas are the value of design, then communicating them is currency.
design is a process, not an outcome. a question, not an answer. the result of the design process is not merely a designed thing but a more abstract metaphysical change. In every designed thing resides an unconscious meaning - something you feel, perhaps subconsciously.
design puts form to value. it also sometimes uncovers value, and it certainly creates value, which unlike matter, can be both created and destroyed.
design is for people: ultimately, every designed thing is meant for a user, which in nearly every case is a person with a particular set of values, abilities, and desires. a person is not a persona, and does not conform to averages.
what design ought to be:
design requires sensitivity: design is dipolar. every designed thing arises from a set of conscious and unconscious biases and has a set of intended and unintended consequences.
design arises from ambiguity: the first job of a designer is to distill clarity from ambiguity. ambiguity takes the form of desire, blank slates, or patterns in the world.
design embraces change. design is a product of change - a process, remember? change is the reason for design. it is never-ending, often circular or incongruent. nothing is timeless.
design is highly constrained. the best design is often the most constrained design. it solves for a very specific set of needs and involves careful consideration and focus.
most design (especially good design) is invisible. you probably don’t think about it, or only think about it when it’s not working correctly. of the invisible forces that guide your life, decisions, and actions, design is maybe the strongest and the most malleable.
a quick personal note
older people always told me that one does a lot of growing in their 20s, and I’m now finding that to be true. I turned 23 a couple weeks ago (right as I began my visit to stanford, celebrated with my wonderful ext. family in SF!), and in those weeks, so much has happened, both good and bad, mostly in my personal life.
I can’t quite tell if this tumult is a function of my age or ours. the world, in accordance to natural law, seems to be devolving into chaos with quickening (frightening) intensity. or maybe I’m at the part of the dunning-kruger curve of life where I feel like an idiot.
part of this startup gap year is a personal examination of my ability to not just weather instability but grow from it. sort of like running a marathon, it’s type II fun. type II fun means that you suffer from it now but laugh about it later. type II fun is not about pleasure - it’s about happiness.
growth, confusingly, is an absolute value. things that seem bad teach you as much or more as those which seem good. and with time, unexpected or bad-seeming things can end up being incredibly good. also, I think it’s your choice—if you believe in something, then it shall be.
it’s an adventure out there! hold onto your hats!
This was an amazing post. Have wonderful life ahead