Cost of design: balancing creativity and constraints
Consider these questions about your design — they can serve as valuable checkpoints in the real world of product design.
As I transitioned from the consultancy to the in-house design universe, a lingering question became my guiding star: What truly brings a design to life?
My time as a consultant was full of lessons learned across diverse industries and work cultures. As my former boss aptly noted, we should be paying our clients for the crash courses we received with each new project. However, I felt a sense of dissatisfaction. I yearned for my designs to be more than just concepts — I wanted them to inhabit the real world, to be used, tested, and improved upon.
After spending some time as a designer in a product company, my perception of the design role has undergone a shift, and I believe it’s a change for the better.
We’re all familiar with the romanticised notion of a ‘designer’. In this fantastical world, problems fall neatly into line, leaving us with ample time for creative musings. Our brilliance is celebrated, and our perspectives are treated as profound wisdom. We’re devoted to catering to every user, doing deep research, and crafting smooth micro-interactions.
In an ideal world, it would be sunny-side up, but reality’s clouds have a habit of raining on our parade.
How often have we been told, “This looks great, but it’s not feasible”? How many times has our enthusiasm been dampened by the weight of business constraints? This pain is real and shared by many, including myself. Yet, I’ve grown to relish these moments. Now, every time someone utters those discouraging words, I respond with a curious, “Which part? Why not? How can we change it? How can we enhance it?” I prioritize the well-being of users over the pixel-perfect transition from Figma to code, which becomes less crucial. What truly matters is delivering value to users, regardless of the means. This leads me to the question that continually echoes in my thoughts: Who can collaborate with me to transform my design into reality?
Design isn’t a lone ranger, it doesn’t ride solo; it’s more like a supporting actor in a complex drama. Design exists in a symphony with other functions like product, engineering, and analytics. This collaboration and compromise is the journey from creation to implementation. It’s the teamwork with engineers who turn your meticulously crafted visions into digital reality, with product managers who chart the course, and with analytics that provide the feedback loop for iterative improvement. However, let’s address the misconception that some designers harbor, I did too — the idea of single-handedly reshaping the universe through a UI overhaul. Allow me to interject with a resounding “Ahem, no.”
Yes, that’s the revelation. Design isn’t here to sprinkle fairy dust on the company; it’s here to serve business goals. Granted, serving the business also involves doing good by the user.
A good design can sometimes be the tiniest adjustments that wield the most significant impact. Because, let’s be honest, even seemingly minor modifications like resizing carousels or revamping interactions can come with hefty price tags. From my counterparts in product management, arises a crucial question for every designer: What is the return on investment for this design?
Still there? Perhaps some fellow designers might close this article at this point, but if you’re still here, bear with me.
Design embarks on a journey — from pixels on your screen to the engineers’ coding stations, culminating in its release into the wild. This is why, before you seek investments from a myriad of collaborators (product, engineers, analytics, marketing, and beyond), ask yourself this question: Does it merit bringing this design to life? It is not about possessiveness over your design but nurturing it, allowing it to adapt and endure the rigors of technical considerations, budget constraints, and ever-shifting user landscapes.
Design can be extravagant or accessible, the essence lies in understanding your company’s ethos and financial scope. My personal quest is to make the most bang for the least buck, maximizing impact while minimizing expenditure.
Being a designer resembles tightrope walking — a delicate balance of creative aspirations and business considerations, the sweet spot where brilliance meets pragmatism, where innovation doesn’t tip over into extravagance. So, how much design is too much design? Well, it’s the amount you can manage without tumbling off the rope.
