Into the darkness: defining career attributes
There were times in my career when I had a clear idea of where I wanted to go next. Early on – working as a graphic designer – I saw the web as both a fun challenge and a promising path. As a web designer, I was drawn to the possibilities of dynamic, flash-based interfaces. As the years went by, I had a lot to choose from, and a lot to learn. E-commerce, mobile apps, software, connected devices, embedded displays, haptics, light, sound, tactile, ambient interfaces. Crafting brands, devising strategy, exploring photography, illustration, video, writing.
Of course, there was also the parallel goal of moving myself up the ladder of wealth and prestige - Senior Designer, Art Director, Creative Director, Increasingly Vague and Lofty Title. I worked in a variety of organizations and environments: agencies, start-ups, in-house, consulting. I was a lone wolf, a team member, a team builder and leader.
Like the Starship Enterprise, these were my voyages. Exploring strange new worlds, boldly going where I hadn’t been before.
But now, as I stand on the bridge and peer into the vast, empty space before me, I can’t see my next destination. I feel as though I’ve reached the end of the known universe, with no basis to imagine what might lie beyond.
Fortunately, I no longer suffer the frustrations, limitations, or lack of agency that fueled my initial vertical climb up the career ladder. So now, the thought of moving further up – away from the work, and toward increasingly managerial or executive roles – fills me with ennui.
Until now, the trends shaping the future – and pointing to where design was inevitably headed – were hard to miss. From print, to web, to mobile, to - most recently - connected “things” and the digital / physical experiences woven into our everyday lives. But what’s next?
On the surface, one could argue that augmented / virtual reality are the burgeoning technologies poised to redefine how we interact with products and environments. But my gut tells me that ultimately their usefulness will be limited, and far from ubiquitous. It doesn’t seem worth pursuing, but if an opportunity came along I’d be up for learning more about it.
A.I. seems to have far more potential to me, because frankly I think we’re all getting a bit tired of having to interact with everything all the damn time. It’s an extra step – or often several – between our intention and our desired outcome. It takes our attention away from experiencing our world, and directs it toward the clunky and inefficient task of trying to communicate with an object. And we’re doing it constantly. But I don’t know what designing for AI even looks like. Uncovering unmet needs, understanding real-world contexts, iterating and testing all seem relevant. If there are opportunities for this, I have yet to come across them.
And so I find myself an ouroboros – an interaction designer eating his own tail – looking for ways to make explicit interaction disappear.
I had a similar revelation early in my career, working in Advertising. I liked to think that my clever idea or appealing visual might elicit a smile or a small moment of interest - a microentertainment – sponsored by the good folks at whoever. I took the ad for granted - it was going to be there anyway, may as well be pleasant. Except that actually – obviously – nobody wants ads. Our lives would all be a little better without them, no matter how polished the turd.
Sadly, I suspect that with few exceptions, the same is true for the interfaces that I work tirelessly to make friendly, clear, usable, beautiful, and infused with personality. Such an improvement over their ill-conceived predecessors, but nowhere near as frictionless as their absence.
Me, realizing the futility of it all.
My point is, I don’t have a clear vision of what I should be working toward. I’m running out of strange new worlds to explore - at least ones I know about. As with obscenity, I can’t really define it, but I’ll know it when i see it. And climbing up the ladder sometimes looks worse to me than climbing back down.
So how can I move forward in a meaningful way without a clear destination? Maybe instead of thinking in terms of what it is, I could think about what it should be like. What are the common characteristics of opportunities that appeal to me, or have worked well for me in the past?
When making aesthetic decisions about a product, it’s often helpful to generate a list of design attributes - descriptives that can serve as a bridge to connect the intangible aspects of brand and positioning with tangible and intentional design decisions. For instance, a high-end product looking to attract a discerning audience might choose attributes like “refined”, or “understated”. A competitor seeking broader appeal to a less savvy audience might focus on words like “friendly” and “approachable”.
Perhaps a similar approach can help me connect the path I can’t envision to aspects of it that I can - and provide evaluative criteria to weigh potential opportunities against. What are some attributes of opportunities worth pursuing for me? Here’s what I’ve come up with so far:
The most fulfilling opportunities for me are:
Challenging. I won’t be happy just doing what I’m already good at. I’m happiest pushing outside my comfort zone, learning new things, and making new connections.
Forward-looking. I’m most interested in questioning the assumptions of today and imagining what’s next.
Strategic. I want help drive the strategy that’s steering the ship, and the decisions that inform our actions.
Multi-faceted. I enjoy diversity in the projects I work on, and in the types of activities I undertake. I want to be able to jump around as needed, touch various aspects of the problem, and not focus too narrowly.
Hands-on. I’m interested in leading by doing, not managing. I enjoy getting my hands dirty at all levels of the work.
Autonomous. I need some freedom to do my thing, and I like to work with others of my ilk.
Beneficial. At the end of the day, I want to feel that in some way the work is putting something good out there for someone- even if it’s just making some small thing a little easier or more satisfying. I don’t want to sugarcoat bitter pills or polish turds.
Smart and open-minded. I want to work with smart people who are passionate about their work, and that I can learn from. People who are open to new ideas and approaches, and can see the value in the design process. People willing to take risks, experiment, and freely admit what they don’t know.
Collaborative. Not everything needs to be a collaboration, I see value in solitary work as well. I like to work with people who aren’t afraid to ask for input or advice, who are always ready to hop in a room and help figure something out. An even playing field where all ideas and opinions are weighed on merit. Little or no hierarchy, no HiPPOs, no egos or other BS.
Failure-tolerant. You need to be able to experiment, take risks, try and fail, in order to great work. No working fast to deliver something adequate.
10 seems like a good number for a list of things, although I’m sure I’ll think of others. What am I missing? What attributes are most important to you?
Up Next: Part 3: Is there anybody out there? Presenting into the void
Start with Part 1: Mid-carer wayfinding now that (gestures broadly at everything)
We should start thinking about our value not as the set of knowledge and skills we have, but as the unique, evolving process through which we create value.