13 Tips for Young Graphic Designers


I see a lot of this sort of advice column on various design blogs. Us older designers are full of advice for the younger people joining our ranks. However, I sometimes wonder if the advice is really useful. Advice like, “develop strong relationships,” and, “be business savvy,” is as valuable as, “drink lots of water,” or, “bring a sweater.”

With that in mind, here are thirteen things that I wish I had known all those years ago:

1. Read Eichmann in Jerusalem, because you will work for, or with, Adolf Eichmann


Their title will probably be Director of Marketing, but you’ll recognize them shortly after you meet. Like Eichmann, this person will seem mostly innocuous, even friendly. At first meeting, they may appear to possess intelligence and wit.

As time goes on, you will realize that the wit is only snark, and the intelligence is mostly manufactured. This person is born of, and lives in, the machine. They will say things like, “let’s make sure everyone is playing from the same sheet of music,” and, “we need to stack hands on this.” Those phrases are your red flags. They will say, “It is what it is,” and they will say it a lot (see #2 below).

Eventually you will be in meetings where someone is late or someone has just left and this person will say, “I don’t think he even knows what he’s doing,” in a hushed voice and roll their eyes. Everyone around the table will laugh nervously, and that will encourage Eichmann to add, “you know what I mean.”

Ultimately, what is dangerous about Eichmann is the passivity — and, yes — banality of the evil. Eichmann is lazy. They don’t like work, and they resent people who are trying to do it. Eichmann has always just gotten by, and even been promoted, because they seem so harmless. Even the people who have gotten past the initial veneer agree that Eichmann is pretty stupid, but they can’t screw up everything.

They can. Don’t underestimate the destructive impulse. Watching project after project fail is what allows them to throw up their hands in meetings, sighing about, “it is what it is,” and making snide remarks about whoever is not in the room. Those are the behaviors that sustain Eichmann.

You will rarely, if ever, encounter Hitler or Stalin (though some executives try), but almost 40% of people with marketing degrees are Eichmann.

2. It is never what it is


“It is what it is,” is the phrase of the defeated, or the conversational con artist. It may as well be translated thus: “Oh, that’s a really good point, but fuck you.” People use IIWII to get out of discussions they don’t want to have, and it spreads like a virus. Suddenly, everything in your life is only what it is, because that mentality becomes the great catch-all for every disappointment.

Once the phrase takes hold, it’s almost impossible to combat. If you hear it more than three times in one day, it’s time to start updating your résumé.

3. Don’t show your senior project to anyone — don’t even mention it — unless specifically requested


Oh, wow! You did an identity project in your last semester? With business cards and letterhead, envelopes, and even the front page of a website comped up in Photoshop? And you got to use really good paper, and went to a real printer and learned all about registration tolerances? And your academic supervisor called it impressive? And here are the Instagrams from your senior show?

That’s so great for you. By the by… we have twelve projects due in the next two weeks, so put that shit away and get back to work.

But now that you mention it: we have a press check at our vendor (two hours away), but they’re running the piece at, like, 11:00 p.m. Since you have all that experience with printing, you can go up there and take care of that so the rest of us can go home and sleep. Remember to be at the office on time tomorrow.

4. You’ll have clients that you want to fire, but because you secretly hate yourself, you won’t let them go


You’ll tell yourself — mostly in-between jobs — that they’re not that bad, or you really need the money, so you just have to live with it. You know, it is what it is.

NO! Cut them off. You can be professional, and you don’t have to burn any bridges (unless they force it), but your dignity and sanity shouldn’t be for sale.

Of course, a less ethical alternative may be to just set up a contract where you can keep bleeding them for money, charging exorbitant rates for any minor task, but that way lies darkness.

5. Join the guild. Or don’t. Who cares?


Maybe you joined AIGA (or some equivalent) in school because the school made you, or you’re a really social person, or you bought into the whole thing about health insurance.

That is fine. Just know that it’s not a prestige thing. No one, at any stage of my career, has ever asked to see my guild card. Some people like the meetups and some people want to enter the design competitions (see #9 below), but that’s about all there is. There’s supposedly a software discount, but a 15% discount on Cinema 4D means it still costs more money than I have.

6. Speaking of meetups: don’t worry about making great connections


Every one of these lists that I see advises you to form great relationships and keep up with colleagues on LinkedIn or Facebook, making sure that you’re creating real bonds and not just superficial ties.

Don’t do that. First: you’re busy. Second: so is everyone-freaking-else. You will develop friendships and acquaintances, and they can be rewarding (even lucrative), and very personally valuable. But that stuff happens as a matter of course, because you work with people in an office, or talk on the phone, or text/email each other about work or design; and that stuff spills over into friendship.

You don’t have to be working the crowd at every conference you attend. You’re likable enough, right? You’ll make connections, and you won’t have to clutter up your newsfeed or waste your time doing it.

7. You know that line that you said you would never cross…


Look behind you.

Whether it’s professionally, or ethically, or emotionally, you are going to make some compromises. For me, a big one was stealing software (do NOT steal software). I’m self-taught, so while I could read about design, and study methods and schools, and discuss it and think about it, I couldn’t practice it in any meaningful way. Enter the Pirate Bay. Without stolen software, I would not be a designer. Of course I couldn’t afford Photoshop 7, it cost like $300.

I don’t think I ever really stole things that individuals had crafted: fonts and vector elements and the like (absolutely do NOT steal from other designers, seriously). There’s plenty of free or cheap stock floating around. But just because I only took from huge faceless corporations doesn’t excuse the offense. My career is predicated on thievery. #YOLO

With that said: I’m always very conscientious about paying for this stuff now that I’m in a better situation. And after more Apple devices than I can count, and years of upgrades, and a Creative Cloud subscription, I’d say that it’s all about even. In the case of Adobe, I’d even venture that they’re winning.

8. Self-taught doesn’t mean someone is an amateur, and a degree doesn’t guarantee good design


A lot of lousy designers are self-taught. Some have no right to the title. But the same is true of design graduates. Perhaps there is something of an innate ability involved in design, but you have to learn it as well. You’ll know the good designers by their work, and you can identify the bad ones with the same method.

9. Don’t submit your own work for awards


No one cares about your collection of silver pens or crystal what-its. Well, maybe someone will. Winning awards is not a bad thing, necessarily. What’s obnoxious is trying to pad your résumé with awards while all the people around you are simply trying not to drown in work.

Companies, agencies, and creative directors submit work for awards, and designers get to design. You can get some good peer feedback by entering design competitions and challenges, if you have time for that sort of thing. A vital, organic portfolio of your work means way more than the hardware collecting dust on your shelf. Speaking of…

10. It can’t all go in your book


You’re going to produce some shit. Real shit. Most of the time, it’s not your fault. It’s the client’s fault, your boss’ fault, or the calendar’s fault. Learn to live in the real world of design.

The television show M*A*S*H used to reference the idea of ‘meatball surgery.’ That is, getting the patient in, fixing as much as you can as well as you can, and quickly moving to the next patient. That’s what design is like. Sometimes you’re just churning stuff out, barely hitting the deadlines.

You’re not going to be proud of everything you do, and it’s never going to be perfect or even get better. There will sometimes be projects that hold a lot of promise but eventually disappoint. Don’t worry: you’ll crank out some great stuff, too.

Just remember, the best hitters in baseball fail to connect 70% of the time. You should fill your portfolio with exceptional work, but the life of a designer is a life of valiant effort rendered as mediocrity.

11. That one account supervisor/marketing drone isn’t screwing with you, they just don’t know any better


I’m not going to make excuses for them, but let’s try to see it from their point-of-view. This person has been engaged with the project and client for as long as you have, probably. They sat through pre-creative and creative meetings. They’ve been in on discussions with you and with their team, the same way you’ve talked about the project with your own team.

In that time, they formed an idea about what the piece looks like. They made a picture in their mind of the finished product, and they are surprised when reality doesn’t agree with that image. So, they’ll say really dumb stuff, like, “can we make the logo bigger,” or, “we wanted warmer colors, can you try a light blue?”

These people are annoying to you, on occasion, but you are also annoying to them. I mean, after all, why can’t you just design exactly what they imagined? The secret is: these are the good guys. They’re the good guys because they care, and because they can imagine anything at all. Lack of imagination is a prerequisite for their job, but somehow these guys slipped through the cracks.

Because they have an imagination, you can talk to them. You can meet on common ground, and you can even try to implement their notes and just see what happens. All kinds of good can come from collaboration with people who have no idea what they’re talking about in the first place.

12. No one cares how much or how hard you work


That is, people care, but it doesn’t mean anything in the end. By the end, I mean when it’s time for marketing or creative to justify why they have so many mid-to-senior-level designers on the payroll.

You’ll work hard all day, every day. People will appreciate the effort you show, and you’ll get asked to contribute to other projects. Some of this stuff will even be outside of the strict purview of design. Your day will start filling with meetings, and you’ll realize that your actual work is suffering. So you’ll hang out later at night catching up, so that no one else has to do your stuff.

Nights will become common. You’ll use FaceTime to tuck in your children and then back to work. You’ll get to know the cleaning staff and security guards. You’ll order pizza with them sometimes.

You’ll go in to the office on Saturday and Sunday because it’s quiet and you can focus on stuff that has to get done. No one else is there except some guy from procurement who has to get his month-end report finished. You’ll work, and you’ll care about your work, and eventually your children will ask, “when are you coming home,” because they actually believe that you’re traveling.

Of course, with all the work, your fuse will get shorter. And the cynicism will start to take over. You’ll make some enemies because people will think that you’re gunning for promotion, or their job, when all you’re really trying to do is get your own projects in line.

Other people don’t care as much as you do, and you should probably follow their example. Caring is what makes you vulnerable, and caring is what makes you the enemy. So when the payroll question comes up, you move to the top of a list that you didn’t even know existed.

Care as much as you want; just don’t have more than one box worth of personal stuff in your office, and keep your portfolio up-to-date.

13. Pro-bono means “for good”


…Not (only) for free.

Choose your pro-bono projects carefully. Make sure the project is worth your time, and that you can actually make a solid contribution.

Once you’ve committed to a pro-bono project, it is your duty to treat that project as you would any other. Don’t take it on because you think it should be easy, or you can fit it into your schedule somehow. Put the idea of payment out of your mind. You’ll need to show the same level of respect and responsiveness to this client as you would to any other.

Pro-bono projects will benefit you. Maybe it just gets your name into the community, opening up avenues for future paid work. Or maybe you have a little more creative discretion than you are used to because your services are a donation. Either way, there’s something in it for you.

Take on pro-bono projects carefully, and execute them thoughtfully.

Conclusion


Reading this, you may be prompted to ask, “Why should I want to be a designer?” You’ll have to figure all of that out for yourself. If you don’t want to do it, there are a lot of more noble and more lucrative professions to choose. I’m sure you can find something more personally fulfilling, too.

The thing is: the good outweighs the bad. Design is fun. When you’re good at it (and that will probably be hit-and-miss), it’s the best. So you’re going to work with people who don’t understand you? That’s everywhere. You can’t escape the negative, but design gives you a chance to contribute so much positive. Whether that is worth it to you is something only experience can help you decide. After all, it is what it is.

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