Today, a video call with a junior from college brought back memories of our early days in design school. The perpetual quest to define “design” always stood out. It’s a debate that transcends classrooms and permeates design-driven companies. But here’s the thing – most definitions of design out there? They don’t really capture the whole picture.
Two prevalent definitions often surface when discussing good design: “Good design solves problems” and “Good design makes things easier.” But do these definitions hold universally?
Take Netflix, for example. The platform’s design often creates a problem rather than solving one. By offering an overwhelming amount of content and an endless scrolling feature, Netflix leaves users confused about what to watch. This confusion isn’t accidental—it’s a strategic design choice that keeps users engaged longer, leading to more binge-watching. Instead of making it easy to choose, Netflix’s design keeps us hooked, creating a cycle of endless searching and viewing.
Similarly, social media platforms thrive on the infinite scroll, keeping us engaged (and sometimes addicted). Here, design creates an engaging experience rather than solving a problem. Facebook and Instagram use notifications, likes, and comments to keep us constantly coming back, creating a sense of urgency and FOMO (fear of missing out). They extend the problem of decision fatigue and drive us towards endless scrolling.
E-commerce websites like Amazon and eBay also use design to subtly guide customer behavior. Ever notice how often you see “customers who bought this also bought” suggestions? These are not just to help you—they’re strategically placed to increase your purchase volume. They create a problem of decision-making fatigue and then guide you towards more purchases as the solution. The design complicates your shopping experience, ultimately driving you to buy more.
Even in retail stores, the layout is designed to lead customers through a path that maximizes exposure to products. Supermarkets place essential items like milk and bread at the back of the store, making you walk past numerous other items, increasing the chances you’ll pick up additional products along the way. They make the shopping experience more complex, driving you to add more items to your cart.
And then there’s the Met Gala, where design and art blend seamlessly. Met Gala outfits are not just about functionality—they’re wearable art pieces. They may not serve a traditional functional purpose beyond the red carpet, but they create conversation and leave a lasting impression. Gigi Hadid once said, “I don’t want people to like my look. I want people to talk about my look.” Here, the measure of a good design isn’t functionality or usability, but the buzz it generates.
This brings us to the subjectivity of “good” and “bad” design. In the context of the Met Gala, conventional metrics like functionality and usability don’t apply. Instead, the success of a design is measured by the attention it garners and the conversations it sparks. It’s a reminder that design doesn’t always adhere to traditional metrics—it can be about creating impact and evoking reactions.
In essence, design is about creating something that resonates with people, whether it solves a problem or creates an engaging experience. It’s a blend of art, functionality, and psychology. And remember, even the so-called “worst” designs had someone who believed in their potential.
Let’s celebrate the complexity and grey areas of design. After all, it’s this diversity that makes the field so dynamic and exciting! 🌟
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