How This Works co

Musings and writings from How This Works co about product, strategy, design, workshop facilitation, team dynamics, and technology

Understanding creativity, structure, and balance with Eames, design thinking, and Newman’s Squiggle

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Design isn’t magic. But watching a skilled practitioner at work can feel magical — the way each move seems effortless, whether about them taking intuitive leaps, and working at breathtaking speed. I explored this idea in an earlier writeup, “Practice, practice, practice makes…,” about how the pursuit of perfection in design and creative work can be counterproductive, arguing instead for the value of consistent practice, iteration, and “shipping” work.

And we’ve explored that in a number of ways recently, in writeups and client work. But a verbal interchange about the design process took an unexpected turn during the 32nd episode of the How This Works show with designer (who also codes) Bumhan Yu and I were discussing design thinking and Damien Newman’s Squiggle when he mentioned Charles Eames’ 1969 design diagram. Despite my familiarity with Charles and Ray Eames’ work — from the two Powers of Ten films, the DSR chair, House of Cards, etc. — this diagram was completely new to me.

One look and I thought, Damn. This is good.

Charles Eames’ design diagram for the 1969 exhibition: What is Design? at the Musee des Arts Decoratifs in Paris, France
Charles Eames’ design diagram for the 1969 exhibition: What is Design? at the Musee des Arts Decoratifs in Paris, France

Created for the “What is Design?” exhibition at the Musee des Arts Decoratifs in Paris, Eames’ diagram captures a complex ecosystem in a way that made immediate sense to me. It wasn’t about following steps in sequence — it was about understanding how different areas needed to converge. And that intersection was the real work, where a designer can work with “conviction and enthusiasm.” And this sent me down a rabbit hole, comparing it with Newman’s “squiggle” and the design thinking framework (both of which I’ve written about before on Medium, here and here).

The dance of practice and intuition
That notion that design isn’t magic is one that a number of people have said, like my friend Jake Kahana who says that design is less Harry Potter magic and more sleight of hand — it’s not something that gets conjured out of thin air but it’s endless practice, collaboration, and refinement that seems like magic. Think of a poet rewriting and rewriting a poem over and over or a dancer rehearsing until movement becomes muscle memory. The final product looks effortless precisely because the iterations behind it are practiced again and again.

Eames design diagram: Constraints as catalysts
The power of Eames’ diagram lies in its visualization of three overlapping spheres: client needs, design office capabilities, and societal interests. This seemingly simple representation raises deeper questions about design’s purpose and process — 30 questions that Madame L’Amic of the Musée des Arts Decoratifs explored in her 1969 interview with Eames during the Louvre exhibition.

“Is design an expression of art?” she asked. Eames replied, “I would rather say it’s an expression of purpose. It may, if it is good enough, later be judged as art.” He saw design not as general expression but as “a method of action,” with constraints serving as creative fuel rather than limitations.

“Design depends largely on constraints,” he explained, emphasizing “the ability of the designer to recognize as many of the constraints as possible; his willingness and enthusiasm for working within these constraints.” This wasn’t about compromise — as Eames noted, “I don’t remember ever being forced to accept compromises, but I have willingly accepted constraints.”

A 1972 short film of Charles Eames’ answers to Mme. L. Amic questions

In his answers, when asked if design was a group creation, his simple “very often” reinforced how good solutions emerge from collective understanding.

From constraints to process: Enter design thinking
While Eames focused on the interplay of constraints, later approaches like design thinking sought to create a more structured path through the design process. Born at IDEO and Stanford’s d.school, design thinking offers a framework with five phases:

  • Empathize
  • Define
  • Ideate
  • Prototype
  • Test
Stanford’s d. School originally broke design thinking into five (5) component parts as shown
Stanford’s d. School and IDEO’s version of design thinking as five (5) component phases/parts

This systematic approach, though predating the Agile manifesto, shares its emphasis on iteration and human-centered development.

AI tools increasingly support this zoom-out, zoom-in process, despite their struggles with contradictory input. But here’s the thing — we don’t have “lawyer thinking” or “HR thinking.” Maybe the name (design thinking) itself needs a rethink, even as the methods and tools prove valuable.

The Squiggle: When chaos can lead to clarity
Where Eames embraced constraints and design thinking offers structure, Newman’s squiggle captures something equally essential: the beautiful mess of creative exploration.

The “squiggle” as labelled by Newman with two phases (on top: noise/uncertainty/patterns/insights vs clarity/focus) and three sections (on bottom: research & synthesis vs concept/prototype vs design)
The process of design squiggle by Damien Newman, thedesignsquiggle.com

The squiggle validates what many designers know intuitively — that chaos isn’t just okay, it’s essential for breakthroughs. It’s especially resonant for solo designers or early ideation, when you need permission to get lost before finding your way.

A balancing act: Integration over competition
These three approaches — Eames’ constraint-based thinking, design thinking’s structured process, and Newman’s embrace of creative chaos — aren’t competing models. They’re different maps of the same territory, each illuminating distinct aspects of the design journey. Design needs both empathy and constraints, both structure and intuition. The trick is knowing which tool fits the moment.

As Santa Cruz architect Daniel Silvernail puts it, “The design process has been called the most misunderstood part of being an architect. It requires passion and a dedication almost approaching love to arrive at an excellent design, yet the creative process must almost always be done within a definitive timeline and for a finite professional fee.”

This tension between creative passion and practical constraints isn’t unique to architecture. Whether you’re a UX designer crafting interfaces, a product manager shaping features, or a writer developing content, the challenge remains: how do you balance the drive for excellence with the realities of deadlines and budgets? Each role demands both technical expertise and artistic sensibility, both systematic thinking and intuitive leaps.

Maybe we’re too caught up chasing efficiency. The real value might lie in knowing when to follow the framework and when to let intuition take the lead. This raises a larger question about how we use frameworks across creative disciplines: Are they maps to follow, or tools to select from based on the challenge at hand? Perhaps the art lies not in perfectly executing any single approach, but in knowing when to embrace structure and when to trust our creative instincts.

Thanks for reading. What frameworks guide your design process? How do you balance structure and intuition in your work?

Let us know what you think, drop a comment or get in touch some other way, we’re always open to hearing others’ points-of-view — if it’s different or the same as ours.

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How This Works co
How This Works co

Published in How This Works co

Musings and writings from How This Works co about product, strategy, design, workshop facilitation, team dynamics, and technology

Skipper Chong Warson
Skipper Chong Warson

Written by Skipper Chong Warson

Product strategist, designer, and facilitator at How This Works co, host of the How This Works show. Fjord, thoughtbot, SoftServe, and Shep (acquired) alumni.

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