I have noticed that opting out is often mistaken for failure.
When someone steps back, disappears, stops replying, or declines to participate, the assumption is that they could not keep up. That something broke. That momentum was lost.
Sometimes the opposite is true.
There are systems that require constant signalling. Attendance. Visibility. Responsiveness. The performance of engagement. They reward those who can tolerate noise and punish those who think better in silence.
I have never been good at noise.
Not because I lack opinions, but because most environments confuse volume with value. Meetings that exist to prove they happened. Conversations that circle without moving. Platforms designed to flatten nuance into slogans. After a while, you realise that participation is not neutral. It costs something.
I used to assume the cost was laziness on my part. Or fragility. Or a personal failing I needed to correct.
It took time to see that the cost was structural.
Some systems are optimised for extraction. Attention, energy, goodwill. They work best when you stay slightly dissatisfied and permanently available. They collapse when someone steps out and thinks for themselves.
Stepping out is not dramatic. It is rarely announced. It often looks like avoidance. Or arrogance. Or disengagement.
In reality, it is sometimes the most responsible move available.
Distance changes resolution. When you are inside a system, everything feels urgent. When you step back, patterns appear. Incentives become visible. You start to see who benefits from things staying exactly as they are.
This is usually the moment people urge you to come back.
Not because you are needed, but because your absence is inconvenient.
I have learned to pay attention to that moment. The pressure to re-enter. To explain. To justify. To reassure others that your withdrawal is temporary and harmless.
Often, it is neither.
Opting out creates a different kind of obligation. One that is quieter and harder to perform. You have to decide what actually deserves your attention when nothing is demanding it.
That turns out to be the real work.
I am still figuring out what I am willing to re-enter, and on what terms. Some structures deserve repair. Others only function if no one questions them too closely.
This space exists for that questioning.
Not as a manifesto. Not as a solution.
Just as a place to think without being watched too closely.
Be a good steward of your gifts. Protect your time. Feed your inner life. Avoid too much noise. Read good books, have good sentences in your ears. Be by yourself as often as you can. Walk. Take the phone off the hook. Work regular hours.âÂ
âRecognizing that peopleâs reactions donât belong to you is the only sane way to create. If people enjoy what youâve created, terrific. If people ignore what youâve created, too bad. If people misunderstand what youâve created, donât sweat it. And what if people absolutely hate what youâve created? What if people attack you with savage vitriol, and insult your intelligence, and malign your motives, and drag your good name through the mud? Just smile sweetly and suggest â as politely as you possibly can â that they go make their own fucking art. Then stubbornly continue making yours.â - Elizabeth Gilbert
This is sosoo good! "Your capacity to love others is limited only by your capacity to love yourself." Treat yourself the way you would treat someone you love.
Bait YSG is the home of interior designer Yasmine Saleh Ghoniem, and is an exploration of light, colour and texture. The apartment is located in the backstreets of Bondi, Sydney, and is nestled inside a red brick art deco building.
Throughout the apartment, a calming creamy foundation sets the scene and allows each of the displayed elements to have their own space, without the need to compete. Layers of olive green, peach, salmon and turmeric are the focus and through their own earth tones create a unique connection to nature and the ownerâs partial roots in the Middle East. Like the stories each item harbours, materiality has been selected to capture patina over time and to allow that expression of time to occur within the space as well.
This gorgeous home is a refreshing reminder that mere brick and mortar does not constitute a home. Our homes reflect memories and the stories of our truest selves. It becomes an extension of a dedicated life, surrounded by contrast and vibrancy along with things we hold dear to our hearts - regardless of how big or small, luxurious or thrifty the space.
First? Ignore the average userâthey donât exist.
Inclusive design is officially a buzzword, with companies like Airbnb releasing an inclusion toolkit and Microsoft attempting to use its principles to make better products. But the idea behind that buzzwordâthat designing for a wider variety of people makes more effective products for everyoneâis still far from mainstream. At a panel at the Cooper Hewitt design museum in New York yesterday, four designers working on the front lines of the fight to make products, services, and spaces more accessible shared why inclusive design should be the primary way of thinking about designâregardless of who the end user is.
The World Health Organization defines disability in part as a mismatch between the features of a person and the features of the environment in which they live. While you canât necessarily give a blind person sight or make an old person young again, you can adapt their environments so that that mismatch is less pronouncedâor doesnât exist at all. This is where inclusive design comes in.
The panelists, many of whom have physical and psychological disabilities themselves, advocated for a more universal way of thinking about design. Some of the design principles they shared were hidden in the most ordinary places, like in eyeglasses, or in airplane cockpits. Others could be found in the most mundane behaviors, like tying your shoes or brushing your teeth. Hereâs what those simple, universal objects and experiences can teach us about inclusive design.
1. Form Is Just As Valuable As Function
We donât think of glasses as medical assistive devices, but thatâs what they wereâat least until the 1960s or so, when designers got their hands on them. Through the force of design, glasses become instruments of self-expression rather than stigmatized objects that connote that the wearer is different.
Many of todayâs assistive devices look as medical, hard, and uninviting as the eyeglasses of centuries past. The emotional impact of these devices can be the difference between the user feeling empowered or feeling ashamed. Thatâs according to the designer Keira Gwynn. âAesthetics have become just as important as function itself,â she said.
Take hearing aids, for example. Many of them are flesh-colored so theyâre less obvious to onlookers. During her talk, designer, lawyer, and advocate Elise Roy spoke about how she always wore a beige hearing aid when she was younger because she wanted to appear as though she was just your average kid. But now she opts for bright colors like red and neon green. âIâve come to realize is that different is the new normal,â she says. âDifferent, even if it seems like a limitation, is what makes us thrive, what makes us valuable.â
Productsâparticularly products that are targeted at disabled peopleâneed not look particularly medical, nor should they necessarily âblend in.â Giving people an array of choice that allows them to wear something that expresses their personality is a vital element of inclusive design.
2. Design For The Extreme UserâAnd Make The Average User Superhuman
Itâs a myth deeply ingrained in our society that thereâs an average or ânormalâ person. The idea dates back to the 1800s, when the Belgian mathematician Adolphe Quetelet attempted to find the numerical average for a host of body measurements, like the chest circumference of soldiers, as well as the average stature, the average weight, the average age of marriage, and even the average of death for humans. This attempt to calculate how an ideal human looks and acts ended up codified in design as the âaverage user.â
Except that Queteletâs theory, which was aimed at bringing order to human society and creating a metric against which each individual can be measured, doesnât work. Roy illustrated why using an example from the 1940s, when U.S. Air Force fighter jet cockpits were typically designed to fit the âaverageâ man. Yet pilots commonly lost control of their planes, leading to frequent plane crashes. In an attempt to find out if the design of the cockpits had something to do with the crashes, researchers took the measurements of just over 4,000 pilotsâand found that not a single one fit within the average measurements for the entire group. The planes were redesigned to fit the extremes instead, and the crashes stopped.
âIn design, again and again, we see that looking to the average does not produce cutting-edge innovations,â Roy said. âInstead we should be looking to extremes. What gets forgotten is that people with disabilities are great examples of extreme users. We experience the world in such a different way. They are a gold mine for helping us to think differently.â
For Kat Holmes, the founder of a firm that helps companies build equitable digital experiences (and who formerly led inclusive design at Microsoft), the illusion of the average user is one of designersâ biggest biases. âThereâs this myth that endures to this day that shows up in design and engineering: the 80/20 rule. You design for the middle of that curve, and weâll get to the 20% later,â she says. âWhat if there was no such thing as a normal human being? If thereâs no normal, thereâs no edge casesâjust diverse people changing from one moment to the next.â
So what happens if you do design for the extreme user? Even people who are abled become superhuman. âWe are learning how to create ability in the absence of natural human ability,â Roy says. âThe typewriter, audiobooks, the remote control were originally designed for people with disabilities, but theyâre loved by everyone because they created the super-abilities we all want.â
Who doesnât want to change the channel without leaving the couch, or read and drive at the same time?
3. Inclusive Design Gives People Independence
When she was working for the famed product designer Raymond Loewy, the designer Patricia Moore saw her grandparents unable to do the things they needed to do, like dressing themselves, brushing their teeth, or opening the refrigerator door. âThere was nothing wrong with my grandma,â Moore says. âShe wasnât broken. But the tools we gave her were inadequate.â
Her statement perfectly captures that mismatch between someoneâs ability and their environment. While her coworkers thought her outrage over the issue was unworthy of their time and attention, Loewy, who was in his 80s at the time, thought differentlyâand pushed Moore toward the field that has become her specialty.
Moore, a renowned gerontologist and designer who has spent years traveling around the U.S. disguised as an 80-year-old woman to understand the challenges that elderly people face, believes that inclusive design is first and foremost about giving people independence. Thatâs something we all crave, from the early moment in your life when your mother is tying your shoe and you yearn to do it yourself, to the moment decades later when you struggle to put on your shoes and wish you didnât need to ask for help. âWhat all of us know and wish and hope and dream [is] that by design weâre taken into account and by design weâre given the autonomy and the independence we deserve and desire,â Moore says.
She points to countless examples of everyday people making the environment around them work, even when it isnât designed to be accessible for themâand sometimes even when it is. She met one elderly woman in particular who would climb 100 stairs every day, step by step, supported by her cane, to get to her temple to pray. Moore met this womanâs daughter, who in frustration told her that she could easily drive her mother up the ramp right to the templeâs door. But Moore had a different interpretation: âShe is living the life she desires, she is hanging on to the last threads of capacity and independence and ability,â she says. âAnd that is what we must design.â
Mooreâs insight that designing for inclusivity is fundamentally about designing for independence is coupled with another sobering truthâwe will all be disabled at some point, whether by age or by a chance accident (that includes Moore, who was hit by a car last year). Even when you pass in and out of moments of disability, whether with a broken leg or a nasty bout of the flu, feeling independent is still crucial. Thatâs why she believes in designing products, services, and spaces so theyâre more accessible to the elderly.
âWhen you design for the greatest generation you design for all generations,â Moore says. âWhen you recognize itâs the life span we should be designing for and not any one silo, you recognize we all have questions and weâre trying to figure out where to go. Then you have your design brief and then you can begin.â
Dieter Ramsâs design principles get a 21st-century update.
Designers thrive on questioning conventionâon unearthing solutions to seemingly intractable problems. Today, Â good design has never mattered more; itâs just the parameters of âgood designâ that have changed.
With a nod to Braun legend Dieter Ramsâwhose 10 principles for good design remain indispensable, though somewhat narrowly concerned with the particulars of industrial design - here are 10 new principles for good design.
1. Good Design Is Transparent
User-friendly design has been the dominant paradigm in human-computer interaction for decades, and for good reason: It reduces complex code into a simple language anyone can understand. But today, amid a string of high-profile data breaches and opaque algorithms that threaten the very bedrock of democracy, consumers have grown wary of slick interfaces that hide their inner workings. Good design should be transparent enough to empower usersâto help them make informed decisions about their privacy, their browsing habits, and moreâwithout overwhelming them.
2. Good Design Considers Broad Consequences
Another problem with user-friendly design: In focusing on the immediate needs of users, it often fails to consider long-term consequences. Take Facebookâs echo chamber, Airbnbâs deleterious impact on affordable housing, or the smartphone, which is literally changing peopleâs brains and has spawned an entire generation of teenage automatons.
Good design chases more than clicks. Itâs mindful of potential impactâwhether economic, social, cultural, or environmentalâand itâs mindful of that impact over time. Thereâs one simple test, according to Rob Girling and Emilia Palaveeva of the design consultancy Artefact: âDonât just ask âhow might we?'â they write, invoking a common term of art in design thinking. âAsk, âAt what cost?'â
3. Good Design Is Slow
For the past 20 years, tech has embraced a âmove fast and break thingsâ mantra. That was fine when software had a relatively small impact on the world. But today, it shapes nearly every aspect of our lives, from what we read to whom we date to how we spend moneyâand itâs largely optimized to benefit corporations, not users. The stakes have changed, the methods havenât.
Good design takes time. It favors long-term solutions over quick fixes. As Basecamp designer Jonas Downey puts it: âNow itâs time to slow down and take stock of whatâs broken.â
4. Good Design Is Honest
This is one of Ramsâs tenets, but it bears repeating at a time when dark patterns abound and corporations treat UX like a weapon. Uber is the most flagrant example. The company built its business on a seamless front-end user experience (hail a ride, without ever pulling out your wallet!) while playing puppet master with both users and drivers. The companyâs fall from graceâculminating in CEO Travis Kalanickâs ousting last yearâunderscores the shortsightedness of this approach.
Good design âdoes not make a product more innovative, powerful or valuable than it really is,â Rams writes. âIt does not attempt to manipulate the consumer with promises that cannot be kept.â
5. We Good Design Is Political
âIf you work in software or design⊠you also work in politics.â That was British designer Richard Pope writing at the end of 2016 after the surprise election of Donald Trump, but the point remains relevant more than a year later: Politics is about the distribution of power, and few things distribute power more broadly and rapidly in the 21st century than code and design. Facebookâs role in shaping the outcome of the presidential election is one obvious example. But you can find subtler examples all over the place, from ads targeting men for higher paying jobs to predictive policing software that indicts black people more than white people.
Good design is upfront about its potential to shape the political landscape.
6. Good Design Is Mindful Of Systems
Systems thinking is a lofty term for a relatively simple idea: Everything is connected, and designers and developers should strategize accordingly. Â Systems thinking has taken on even greater import over the past few years, as the world becomes more complex and intertwined. Consider that we generate 2.5 quintillion bytes of data a year, more than 90% of which was created in just the past two years. Today, nearly half of all adults own a smartphone; by 2020, that figure is expected to climb to 80%.
Good design, then, is no longer about solving discrete problems: Itâs about considering the sum of the parts. âThe challenge is to rise above the distraction of the details and widen your field of vision,â writes Foundation Capital partner Steve Vassallo. âTry to see the whole world at once and make sense of it. Itâs a heady challenge, but you either design the system or you get designed by the system.â
7. Good Design Is Good Writing
In his â2017 Design in Tech Report,â author John Maeda anointed writing as designâs newest unicorn skill. Itâs easy to see why. With the rise of chatbots and conversational UI, writing is often the primary interface through which users interact with a product or service. (Siriâs dad jokes had to be written by someone.) But even designers who donât work on interface copy should be able to articulate themselves clearly. The better their writing, the better their chances of selling an idea.
8. Good Design Is Multifaceted
The days of brands peddling a single identity are gone. The Emotional Intelligence Agency, a U.K.-based branding firm, analyzed the brands that more than 5,000 people said they sought out. The results were surprisingly consistent. Top brands, from Victoriaâs Secret to Taco Bell, had four seemingly disparate traits: humor, usefulness, beauty, and inspiration. The takeaway? In an increasingly complex retail landscape, brands must adopt multifaceted personalities to connect emotionally with consumers.
9. Good Design Takes Risks
Ideo studied more than 100 companies in an attempt to quantify innovation and came away with six key insights. Among them? Challenging the status quo has real business benefits. According to the study, chances of a failed product launch decreased by 16.67% when people felt comfortable acting with autonomy.
10. Good Design Is For PeopleâAnd Machines
Historically, computers have been designed for human users. But as machines grow smarter and artificial intelligence takes root in peopleâs daily lives, designers will have to build for a new type of user: the human-machine hybrid. So suggests Normative CEO Matthew Milan, who argues that hybrids can do more than any person or computer could accomplish alone, like navigate traffic or compete in super-powered chess games.
Looking ahead, good design will help people trust a systemâeven when they know they donât have much agency within it.
Â
Back in the late 1970s, Dieter Rams was becoming increasingly concerned by the state of the world around him â âan impenetrable confusion of forms, colours and noises.â Aware that he was a significant contributor to that world, he asked himself an important question: is my design good design?
Advice to new managers
1 earn trust by giving it
2 hire for EQ, train for IQ
3 eat lunch with your team
4 tell people their work matters
5 be a player-coach
6 feedback in private, praise in public
7 in victory, lead from back
8 in crisis, lead from front
9 walk around and help
âAdvertising design, in persuading people to buy things they don`t need, with money they don`t have, in order to impress others who don`t care, is probably the phoniest field in existence today.â
â Victor Papanek, Design for the Real World: Human Ecology and Social Change