Visionary designers have lost their conceptual integrity to an industrial complex optimized for consensus, predictability, and short-term business gain. The rise of customer-obsession mantra and data-driven culture cultivated a generation of designers who only take risk-free and success-guaranteed steps towards the inevitable local maxima of design monotony.
You just handed off a major redesign. Three months of research, twenty-seven major revisions, and hundreds cups of coffee have all culminated in this pinnacle of glory. It’s finally done!
Except it’s not.
It’s not, even after you have answered every single question the developers have about your red-line.
It’s not, even after you have addressed all the technical constraints developers encountered during the implementation.
It’s not, even after you meticulously documented all the patterns and styles into a library for reference and reuse.
It’s not, because neither you nor the developers have talked to a real user. At the bottom of your heart, you are secretly wishing:
My design looks great on paper, so let’s keep it on paper.
A basic structural design underlies every kind of writing.
Writing, to be effective, must follow closely the thoughts of the writer, but not necessarily the order in which those thoughts occur. This calls for a scheme of procedure. In some cases, the best design is no design, as with a love letter, which is simply an outpouring, or with a casual essay, which is a ramble. But in most cases, planning must be a deliberate prelude to writing.
The more clearly the writer perceives the shape, the better are the chances of success.