In no objective sense were things better for UX [in 2010]. Most companies didn’t know it existed. Most who did, drastically underinvested in it. Those who were willing to invest in it were savvy enough to listen to thought leaders, but that was a paltry percentage of the real work to be done.
What’s happened by 2021 is that UX is not interesting in and of itself anymore. UX is a given. As Joe Lamantia said in a mailing list I’m on, “it’s furniture.” And the challenges and frustrations people are expressing are largely due to this maturation.
We’re moving from “the dream of UX” to “the reality of UX.”
PEOPLE ARE NOT THEIR JOB TITLES.
TEAM MEMBERS ARE NOT “RESOURCES”.
PEOPLE WORK BEST WHEN THEY CAN BE THEIR FULL SELVES.
YOU CANNOT CALCULATE AN ROI FOR DESIGN.
FRAMING THE PROBLEM IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN SOLVING THE PROBLEM.
(DESIGN) LEADERSHIP IS MORE TALKING THAN DOING.
YOU’LL DO A BETTER JOB IF YOU LIGHTEN UP
IF YOU HAVEN’T PISSED SOMEONE OFF, YOU’RE NOT DOING YOUR JOB RIGHT.
NO ONE OUTSIDE YOUR TEAM UNDERSTANDS WHAT IT TAKES TO DO GOOD WORK.
THE OUTCOMES ARE BETTER WHEN EVERYONE IS A DESIGNER.
AGILE TRANSFORMATIONS ARE HOSTILE TO GOOD DESIGN.
WHAT A DESIGN TEAM NEEDS MOST IS A CLEAR SENSE OF PURPOSE.
YOU ARE ON THE FRONT LINE OF A GLOBAL WAR FOR TALENT.
EVERYONE APPLYING FOR A ROLE HAS AN INFLATED TITLE.
INTERVIEWS ARE A POOR WAY OF ASSESSING CANDIDATES.
DESIGN EXERCISES ARE A BAD INTERVIEWING PRACTICE.
YOU WILL NEVER HAVE ENOUGH DESIGNERS.
YOU WILL NEVER HAVE ENOUGH TIME.
THE SKILLS THAT GOT YOU HERE ARE NOT THE SKILLS THAT WILL CARRY YOU FORWARD.
My recall is a damn sight short of total. It’s so unreliable that I sometimes think I’m trying to prove something by it. But what would I be proving? Especially since inexactness is not exactly the sort of thing you can prove with any accuracy.
Anyway—or rather, that being the case—my memory can be impressively iffy. I get things the wrong way around, fabrication filters into fact, sometimes my own eyewitness account interchanges with somebody else’s. At which point, can you even call it memory any more?
Supposing I found myself chasing another fly ball and ran head-on into a basketball backboard, supposing I woke up once again lying under an arbor with a baseball glove under my head, what words of wisdom could this man of thirty-odd years bring himself to utter? Maybe something like: This is no place for me.