Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Design Ethics

A search for "ethics" among newspaper and magazine articles or through any search engine will yield a mountain of results, ranging from "to-do" and "not-to-do" lists for ethical behavior, to an entire discourse related to every imaginable profession. With such a volume of material out there, it would stand to reason that ethics are not much of a debate anymore. Time and again we have seen the consequences of unethical behavior at a personal, corporate, and even national level. Case studies expound the virtues of ethical managers and CEOs. Our country has always been known for offering aid to the poor and those in need. So why do we still churn out articles every day discussing ethics? Why are the disappointing ethics of so many government officials, corporate officers, and even college coaches in the news day-in and day-out?


The word "ethics" is defined as:
1. a system of moral principles:
2. the rules of conduct recognized in respect to a particular class of human actions or a particular group, culture, etc.:
3. a social, religious, or civil code of behaviour considered correct, esp that of a particular group,profession, or individual (World English Dictionary).


Notice a few key words here: "particular" and "considered." Ethics vary from one "particular" person to the next, from one "particular" profession to the next, from one "particular" nation to the next, etc. These are also behaviors that are merely "considered" correct. There is no process for determining a group's ethics, voting on them, or even enforcing them in most situations. Ethics create enough gray area to cover the entire world in a fog, which is why we read about ethics so much and still have so many people that seem to be making unethical decisions. 


At the heart of every decision concerning one's ethics, is a trade-off. "Am I willing to sacrifice this for that?" That means that ethics are a very personal matter and are a result of one's upbringing, experiences, and decision-making processes. Knowing this, I was particularly drawn to Milton Glaser's 7th point in "This is what I have learned." How you live changes your brain. Every seemingly insignificant experience in our life affects our decision making, even if only on a subconscious level. Choosing whether or not to work with a certain client, which projects to pursue, how to charge for your services, and what you do during your spare time are all decisions reached with the help of your life experiences and the examples before you. All is not lost, however, just because ethics are a personal matter. In business, strong ethics must start at the top - with the company's leadership. Defining a policy (concerning ethics) in writing, make that policy available and visible to all employees, making all contituents (clients, contractors, etc) aware of that policy, and then determining rewards and consequences in relation to the policy will create a corporate culture that can help eliminate ethical dilemmas. Constituents will be aware of your firm's boundaries from day one, employees will be less tempted to consider unethical decisions but will be empowered to make the right choices for the company. If a dilemma does crop up for any employee, such a public stance on ethics within the company will encourage the employee to consult leadership rather than struggling alone with the decision.


Because design is a service profession and designers serve as intermediaries between clients and users, ethical dilemmas are incredibly multifaceted. Paul Nini's "In Search of Ethics in Graphic Design" makes a good case for ethical decision-making where the end audience is concerned. Nini believes that design's greatest ethical failure is not routinely including users in the design process. Much has changed since the article's publication date (2004), so I'm not sure that I can still say I entirely agree with Nini, but it is an issue that requires constant attention rather than a one-time fix. What was disappointing however, was the vague bulleted list in the article's conclusion that outlined a designer's responsibility. These bullets are something I have been taught from day one. And I can honestly say that I have never been confronted with a project or situation when any of these issues were even a question. 


Regardless of the facet of the design profession in which one experiences an ethical dilemma - be it in client relations or responsibility to the audience - designers young and old would be better served to carefully consider the three questions that business students learn:
1. Is it legal? (If the answer is no, then there should be no "dilemma".)
2. Is it balanced? (Who will be affected, and will one party benefit greatly while another suffers?)
3. How will it make me feel about myself? (Would you be ashamed to tell your mother about your decision, or post it to Facebook or Twitter?)





Saturday, November 12, 2011

The Crowdsourcing Conundrum

I have always known that spec work was frowned upon by the design community, and I had a basic understanding of why that position made sense. I don't think, however, that I was completely sold on that position. And I'm a designer!

I realize that every designer working on spec sets the profession back a few steps in terms of achieving respect for our skills and the value of our contributions among other disciplines. I realize that clients requesting spec work are after that one precious deliverable and no more. And I realize that the fees paid for spec work are far lower than the value a "hired" designer could provide. Despite all of those realizations, I couldn't help but think that there might be that one spec project that could be my big break. Get my name out there. Send businesses running to my door asking for my help, thereby launching my own business profitably from the start. And it's this temptation that I imagine so many other young designers fall into and that keeps this issue a constant one. Five years out of school, money is not really an issue (meaning that I have a small roof over my head, I'm not in danger of starving, and even have a savings account), yet I still find myself tempted by spec work. I've never had a desire to be famous, in fact I'm fairly introverted. But I take great pride in my work and would like nothing more than to be respected for the work I do and the benefits I provide to my clients. (I know, I know...that statement is the antithesis of what spec work stands for.) But there's always that small voice saying, "What if...."

I also have to admit that I've been a bit naive about the fact that crowd sourcing is really just a new, superficial "look, we embrace participatory design" facade for spec work. Crowd sourcing just seemed like the newest trend of a generation that desires to be heard and to be involved in all the decision making. I remember voting with great fervor for the new blue m&m when I was in high school. I must have voted at least a dozen times to make sure that blue beat out the purple and the pink, and I felt justified when the new blue m&m was unveiled weeks later. Maybe that seems like a ridiculous example, but until reading Richard Grefe's What's The Harm in Crowdsourcing?, I hadn't consciously made the connection that companies (and federal agencies) have used our desire to participate to their advantage and have disguised their motives well behind this idea of crowd sourcing.

Perhaps this desire to participate stems from our culture's obsession with celebrity and all things "reality" (which, in reality, rarely even resembles reality). We're all waiting to be "discovered" for that thing we do well. Blogs, contests, reality shows - all ways that we put ourselves and our work out there for someone to notice, and I don't think that we'll see an end to those things anytime soon. So maybe there's no fix to this problem of spec work and crowd sourcing, but how can the design community continue to educate designers about the pitfalls of this type of work (the list is long aside from lack of respect... read this blog post for a more in-depth look)?

Perhaps it's because I've been reading an issue of Entrepreneur magazine that is dedicated to franchising, but as I pondered this issue of how to get newbie designers to resist the temptation of spec work, I had an idea for a business. (Keep in mind that this has less than a week of thought behind it, so don't judge too critically, just throwing an idea out for conversation) What if - like the thousands of small business incubators across the country - there were incubators dedicated solely to design. This incubator would provide a physical place to work (with utilities) and could function in so many different levels. First off, the incubator could "hire" young designers and function as it's own little company. Projects that larger design firms put out for freelancers could funnel through the incubator so that the design firm could be comfortable knowing that there would be plenty of legitimate designers eager to work, and that the structure of the incubator could provide security and an easy way to submit jobs, pay for freelance services, and even hire a full-time designer already familiar with their company if it came to that. On a second level, the incubator could work with organizations that are currently seeking designers for spec work to rethink their approach and use the incubator to get a higher quality product than they might from the masses, at a cost lower than what they would incur at an established agency with significant overhead. Lastly, the incubator could serve its more traditional purpose of helping budding entrepreneurs get their own design business off the ground. This opportunity to work on legitimate projects, earn at least a partial salary, network with fellow designers, and gain exposure to larger design firms may help reduce the need and/or temptation to work on crowd sourcing or speculative projects. Just an idea....

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Transformation Design

If only business school case studies could have been as interesting to read as the UK Design Council's Red Paper: Transformation Design. I remember groggily flipping through page after page of marketing and management case studies that were so dry it's a wonder the pages themselves didn't crack. True, "Transformation Design" isn't technically a case study, but with a brief history and description of the process, illustrations of it's use, and a call to action for designers everywhere, it seems like the perfect tool for educating the industry.

Although I truly love the visual aspect of graphic design, I have to say that while reading this document I repeatedly thought, "This is the type of work I want to be doing!" Maybe it's a bit selfish to want to do work that matters, but the downside of labeling myself as a graphic designer is that I sometimes feel like a technician or a decorator instead of a thinker. I'm not sure how I would feel being a "transformation designer" and working at the opposite end of the spectrum where I may never be concerned with the visual. From the time I was about 16, I've never doubted that I wanted to be a designer, but what I've desired more than working in design is just to have an interesting job. It sounds as though one of the problems that designers have with transformation design is that it requires significant work with (and recognition of) the valuable contributions of non-designers. And the potential watering down of the term designer. This is where I have to ask "Really? Have we as a society already reverted back to segregation?" Wouldn't you rather have an interesting job, develop solutions that matter, and collaborate with folks who may have something new to teach you rather than focus on maintaining the integrity of your members-only design club? If I'm going to spend the next 40-odd years of my life working, I want it to be interesting, but I could care less what it's called. Ok, I will now dismount my soapbox.

There was a sentence buried deep in the middle of this article that caught my attention as one of the most significant differences of the transformation design process from the business world status quo. On page 18, the authors describe the three skills - looking, making things visible, and prototyping - that are core to a user-centered design approach. Within the explanation of "looking," the article states
These research methods do not aim to yield any quantitative or objective research 'truth', but rather to provide inspiration and actionable insights.
I seem to recall a great many business case studies that had a statement like "the survey results confirmed our suspicion that....", "the data supported our hypothesis that...", or something similar. Numbers can be bent. Details can be massaged to indicate whatever may be conducive at the time. Just listen to any political debate and this should become increasingly clear. Numbers do not necessarily equate fact or truth. After reading the statement above and then revisiting the four examples of the transformation design process at work in the real world, it was easy to see that the success in all four situations was partly thanks to the fact that nobody came to the table with preconceived solutions or ideas of what the solutions should look like.  This process of "looking" revealed areas ripe for innovation that market research reports would not have even touched.

Now my question is... how does one go about creating this type of transformation design consultancy? Due to its transdisciplinarity, networking with other respected professionals would play a major role, but what skills should I be working to acquire in order to organize and launch this type of business? How does one manage this type of business where there is no clear hierarchy or formula?