What Hip-Hop Can Teach Designers About Community
Rap as a model for feedback and validation
Originally posted on Medium August 3rd, 2015 in the publication Handling the Curve
o you remember where you were when you first heard Kendrick Lamar’s verse on Big Sean’s infamous track “Control”? I remember it like it was yesterday. I was sitting in traffic on the Ohio River bridge, on my way to pick my kids up from summer camp at the Sewickley YMCA in Pennsylvania. Naturally, I had heard rumblings about all the drama it had aroused online before I even had a chance to hear it for myself, so I already knew I was in for something special.
As Kendrick’s energy built up through the first part of his verse, I remember feeling the tension growing. Then, at 4:45, it happened. The verbal assault and formal challenging of all his peers (and friends) began.
One by one, Lamar named a veritable who’s who of the biggest names in rap today, and in more cutting words, staked the claim that he was better than all of them, and dared any of them to prove him wrong. This was particularly notable for the simple fact that he directly addressed his competition by name, but this brand of bravado and brash competitiveness is far from a new concept in hip-hop.
Since its inception, rap music has remained flush with strong, confident characters, proud of their talent and accomplishments, and even happier to let you know about them. And we love them for that.
Like any talent and creativity-based industry, hip-hop is extremely competitive, but at the same time, it’s also one of the most collaborative. It’s almost become an anomaly to find a song where a rap artist is performing it completely by him or herself without featuring another artist on the track. Especially on singles.
How does that work? How can everyone be so fiercely competitive, so critical of each other’s work and talent, and yet still have a career? Aren’t they viewed as assholes? As haters? Doesn’t that turn people off from wanting to work with them and collaborate?
No, because that’s fucking stupid.
Let’s face it, we in the design industry are a bunch of timid, non-confrontational chumps who don’t know how to properly give or receive criticism. I’m sure a lot of it is generational, and based in a broader diminishing of social skills in general. But whatever the case, thinking that this tip-toed, pandering encouragement we give will somehow cause people to do anything other than stagnate is a delusion. We’re so scared that everyone might think we’re jerks if we aren’t 100% supportive of every new piece of design that comes out. So instead of being honest with each other and offering thoughtful, constructive feedback, we resort to a tourettical stream of vocal tics like:
“You’re such an inspiration!”
How is that supposed to help anyone? Why should we expect the recipient of those useless, hollow compliments to try any harder on the next project? But helping them isn’t really the goal of that “feedback”, is it? The goal is to get them to like you, or to notice you. To be supportive and positive so everyone knows you’re one of the flock. Message received.
In hip-hop, there lives a constant drive in almost everyone to grow, to progress, and to be the best, that is all but missing in design today. We’d rather spend a #100dayproject on trying something new, develop exactly 100 days worth of skill from it, and then decide that it’s time we start teaching and “sharing our story” in lieu of any real further growth. When you get enough of these characters in place, not only do they keep multiplying, but you end up with an ever-decreasing standard of competence and skill, and the untrained eye of the general public has its collective taste set lower and lower.
We in the design industry are a bunch of timid, non-confrontational chumps who don’t know how to properly give or receive criticism.
This same effect can actually be seen in rap today, too. Fetty Wap, for instance, recently became the first male rap artist to have two concurrent singles in the Billboard top 10 since Lil Wayne in 2011, and the first to have three concurrent singles in the Hot 100 since Eminem did it in 2013. If you aren’t familiar with Fetty Wap, this is one of those top-10-worthy singles:
Now, if that isn’t one of the most horrendous songs you’ve ever heard, just imagine how many fans it has to have to make it on to the Billboard list at all, let alone the top 10. We’ve helped him achieve a feat last reached by 20-year rap veteran and 15-time Grammy Award winner Eminem. Makes sense. Fetty Wap shouldn’t be the rapper we want, but he’s definitely the rapper we deserve.
Sharing your thoughts on something you feel could be stronger does not make you a dick. Your input is certainly more valuable than that of someone avoiding the truth to stroke the ego of its maker. To hold that feedback in is to co-sign the validity of mediocrity in the industry we all depend on to make our living.
Sharing your thoughts on something you feel could be stronger does not make you a dick.
It can be very easy to slip into this pattern of glad-handing and forced positivity. It presents a complete lack of confrontation, and requires no real thought on your part, compared to giving honest feedback. Besides, if you do take the time to address your concerns and offer anything other than a pat on the back, the creator has the ultimate end-all be-all defense at their disposal — writing you off and labeling you a hater. This is particularly effective, because they don’t even need to respond to you. You aren’t worth their time now, so they can dismiss you, sub-tweet a “haters gonna hate” meme, and continue catering to the circle jerk.
The main problem with this, of course, is that “hating” doesn’t even apply here. A hater aims to cut someone down, usually out of envy. You aren’t envying this person. Hell, the whole reason you said anything was because you felt like their work could be better. And you surely aren’t trying to cut them down. Thoughtful feedback takes far more effort than hitting a like button, so if you’re careful with your words, offering alternative solutions, etc., it should be clear that you’re trying to help.
And that’s the key. There absolutely are haters out there, and the best way to deal with them is often to ignore them. So if you’re going to tell it like it is, tell it gracefully.
Another big tent pole in the hip-hop community is authenticity. If you’re rapping about violence, growing up poor and pushing dope, and it’s revealed you had a lovely childhood and went to a private school, you can pretty much kiss your career goodbye. If you’re a designer telling people they should quit their job, follow their passions and do what they love, but when you did that, you were still living with your parents, maybe you should shut the fuck up.
When you rap from experience, it comes through in the songs. We can tell before too long who’s really seen some shit and who hasn’t. When you’re selling designers the dream of making a living doing what they love, but you yourself can count the real projects you’ve done for real clients on one hand, we can tell you’re full of shit.
The point is, we all know, deep down, that these things are true. So why do we continue to emphatically praise any and everyone that makes a mere attempt at design? Where’s the critique? Where’s the competition and the desire to be great, rather than just the desire to be loved and included? Where’s the integrity to take a stand in the name of quality and good taste, and say, “No! I will not allow myself to be associated with the forces that do nothing but pull the bar down,” even if those forces stand to bring you more followers or bring more attention to the quality work you’re doing?
If you’re a designer telling people they should quit their job, follow their passions and do what they love, but when you did that, you were still living with your parents, maybe you should shut the fuck up.
We as designers need to stop being so afraid of looking like jerks, just because we see improvement opportunities and want to thoughtfully offer feedback. If you feel compelled to help, then by all means, help! If you find that you’re not really trying to help, so much as point out flaws in the work of your foes, then yeah — you probably are a hater and you should get a life, man.
On the flip side, we really need to learn how to communicate and how to take thoughtful, considered feedback to heart, and at the very least, engage in conversation about why you feel that what you’re doing is right. Sometimes, you’ve got key information that makes everything make more sense, but we can only understand that if you take the time to acknowledge your well-meaning critics and engage in that healthy discourse, as opposed to “brushing those haters off”.
Wanting to see others grow and progress is about the furthest one can get from being an asshole.
You know who’s an asshole? The guy that knows you could do better, has some ideas for how you could get there, and simply says:
