At Stake: A Unified Understanding of Design

Last week, over 40 of frog’s creative leaders converged in Austin, Texas for our Creative Summit. One of the most important outcomes of this yearly gathering is the time we spend with each other, face to face. It allows leaders from our 8 studios across 3 continents to share our work, stories, and worldview. And perhaps most importantly, it builds the social connections that we rely on in the new kind of creative organization we’ve built, in the words of Mark Rolston, “more like a modern social or technical network; a matrix of creative minds, guided to work together towards a more expansive vision than that of any one personality.”

Major themes this year included the changing nature of “innovation,” new developments in brand strategies, the future of mobile platforms and their open networks, and the ongoing importance of and reverence for industrial design in our organization. But, perhaps surprisingly, one of the most hotly debated topics amongst this year’s leaders was magic.

Yes, magic.

It turns out that what many (myself included) believed to be a common denominator amongst our varied and distributed leaders is actually a sharp demarcation between two camps over what, exactly, it is we do as designers.

In the first camp: “What we do has nothing to do with magic! We design objects and interactions for people, in the clearest and most logical way, so the people we design for may have a transparent understanding of the mechanics of those objects and interactions. We help people survive in the world.” In other words, design is about function, purpose, usability.

In the second camp: “Of COURSE what we do is magic! We are nothing if not magicians, making the impossible real, bringing the just-out-of-reach right into the palms of our hands. Whether objects, or experiences, we create the moment of wonder and delight.” In other words, design is about meaning, emotion, even transcendence, if you will.

The initial shock over the apparent rift in our collective and deep seated definitions of design quickly moved from wide eyed silence into heated debate. The cause of the rift was studied, poked, prodded, and examined from many angles. Hard alcohol was consumed, and fraught exchanges went on into the night.

We unpacked the meaning of “magic” as it stands for the two camps. In the first, “magic” is offensive because it implies sleight-of-hand, or a kind of manipulation of the people we design for. It is seen as dishonest, and perhaps condescending. Moreover, it draws a confounding veil over reality and the judgment we use to navigate its treacherous waters.

In the second camp, “magic” is the highest goal and greatest compliment of design. It is seen as the realization of a higher meaning, a moment of rising above the drudgery and constraints of everyday reality into a shining moment of truth, vision, and aspiration. It is representative of our best, most human moments.

As we continued to find the nuance in meaning (and disagreement), we uncovered a second, equally important aspect of magic. That is, magic is not only a tool wielded by the designer (for better or worse motivations); magic also resides in the eye of the beholder, those we design for. Magic, in the negative sense of the first camp, is a person’s sense of chicanery, foolishness, or mistrust as they engage with the object of design. In the positive sense of the second camp, magic is a person’s sense of awe, receptivity, and moment of clarity as they engage with the object of design. But whether positive or negative, the views reveal and reinforce the long-held principle of design, the one that separates it from pure art: we design not just for ourselves, but also for others. There is a heavy responsibility and an awesome opportunity in that principle that even the most serious, jaded or cynical designer can remember with pride.

As for myself, I’m firmly in the second camp. I think we are the sorcerers who weave the powers of technology, culture, art and craft into a bright wave of meaning and experience, accessed equally through the head, heart and hand. I also think we are simultaneously the receivers of design, the tiny humans that are ever looking to experience that one awake moment in which we glimpse all the answers and all the possibilities of our own strange existence. And I can live with that.