This time is different. The people with the matches are inside the house. The house is not burning down (this time) because it was struck by lightning, or the wiring was shoddy. It’s now on fire because the people in charge want to burn it down. There is absolutely nothing in the professional histories of Trump or his immediate staff that show…
…are normalizing that behavior. We are saying with our actions “this behavior is not disqualifying”. So if we think we can still do good within the system, is it worth the normalization of that we think should not be normal? Are short-term gains worth mortgaging the future values of our government?
And don’t fall for the soothing charity by the extractive victors either. That charade is as old as time. It’s the process by which ruthless tech lords seek to rebrand themselves into noble benefactors for the good of society. By giving back some of their spoils as they see fit. Kings of plenty doling out gifts and mercy. Do…
…when you design in perfect settings, with big, contrast-rich monitors, you blind yourself to users. To arbitrarily throw away contrast based on a fashion that “looks good on my perfect screen in my perfectly lit office” is abdicating designers’ responsibilities to the very people for whom they are designing.
We’ll have to learn a thousand hard lessons, most of them centered around the idea that if you want to make something really great, you can’t think about making it great for everyone. You have to make it great for someone. A lot of people, but not every person.
Your problem is that you make shit. A lot of shit. Cheap shit. And no one cares about you or your cheap shit. And an increasingly aware, connected, and mutable audience is onto your cheap shit. They don’t want your cheap shit. They want the good shit. And they will go to find it somewhere. Hell, they’ll even pay for it.
… or better yet let each woman define for herself what the best version of her life might look like. Because when you think about it, reflecting back on the first month of my son’s life and reveling in what a good job I’d done at covering up the fact that he exists is pretty fucking sad.