— Andy Jacobson

I’ve had my own studio for 18 years, most of which I’ve always had an office outside of my home. That was important when a traditional work environment — a staff, large and expensive machines, lots of paperwork, and sharing ideas — required it all be under one roof.

But with the tools of mobility, digital archiving, perma-lancers, and virtual “face-to-face” meetings, the traditional “office” is no longer needed.

So I’m very excited (and appreciative of the fact that we have the room for it) to be building my first home office.

In the process I’ve explored a lot of both my physical and psychological needs. Its the psychological needs that I find most interesting.

For instance, I realize that I like order and logic. Much of my new office will be based on a grid pattern with storage space to maintain organization of my “things”. Unnecessary objects will no longer clutter my space. It’ll be clean, airy, and light — allowing me to feel a sense of freedom.

Furniture will represent what I consider “thoughtful design” — like my new Eames Lounge Chair, a chair I consider to be one of the most beautifully design chairs in modern times — sturdy, made of lasting materials, solid…yet weightless in appearance and incredibly comfortable. A desk I’ve designed, simply with four legs and a framed top, all made of 2 inch squared raw steel, sturdy enough to hold a 1/2 inch thick glass top. Enough bookcases to hold reference books and inspiring tchotch-kes. An old medical cabinet from J’s Dad’s former medical practice (great for storage). Lastly, recessed overhead lighting to open up the space at night, coupled with two old lamps — each representing a time in my life that still makes me happy.

So how does this relate to my psychological needs?

I crave stability, security, relationships to/from the past. I hate feeling “locked-in” to my surroundings, it  makes me anxious. And I love simplicity, that “zen-like” feeling of being calm, focused, aware.

And how does that translate into my work?

Words like “order”, “logic”, “uncluttered”, “sturdy”, “lasting”, “thoughtful”… not only describe the style, colors, materials, and layout of my new home office — I hope they also describe my best work.

What do you think your ideal office says about you?

 

 

 

 

 

This past weekend I joined J and her family for a family reunion in Montauk. Her parents, sisters, aunt, cousins, cousin’s kids, old friends of the family, all joined together to eat, drink, hang at the beach…and spend a lot of time shopping at the local supermarket.

While it was nice seeing everyone and catching up—and the meals were awesome—J and I were incredibly lucky to have been given a friends house nearby to stay at.

My favorite time was waking up early in the morning, getting a cup of coffee, and sitting out on the deck either reading my book [At Home by Bill Bryson] or staring at the bay.

I forget how important it is to “get away”.

By “getting away” I was able to see those things that I left more clearly and to focus on the people around me more thoughtfully. And be reminded of what’s important.

So in a sense, this wasn’t just “J’s” reunion, it was mine too.

Following are re-postings. If you would like to view each in their original context, Khoi Vinh’s, “The End of Client Services”, can be found at his blog “Subtraction” http://bit.ly/qRQzjB, and Erika Hall’s, “Until Gotham No Longer Needs Batman”, can be found at Mule Design Studio’s blog, “Off the Hoof”, http://bit.ly/roV0Pb.

The End of Client Services

By Khoi Vinh

Last week, I marked a year since my departure from The New York Times by starting to talk a little bit about what I’ve been doing (see this blog post). Today, I’m going to talk a bit about why I decided to jump into a startup, one in which we’re building a product of our own, rather than starting another design consulting business.

Some longtime readers will remember that about ten years ago I co-founded a design studio of my own. In fact, until I went ‘in-house’ at the Times, I had spent the entirety of my career in the design services industry, working with all sorts of clients doing all sorts of projects, and generally enjoying the variety of challenges and the exposure to many different kinds of businesses. But in the long stretch of months leading up to the day I resigned my position at the Times, I came to the conclusion that I couldn’t return to that kind of work.

There were lots of reasons for this, but one of the main ones is that I think the design industry has undergone a significant and meaningful change, one that opens up opportunities that are not to be missed.

The traditional model of design services rests on the notion that a design studio or agency offers a unique value, a set of highly specialized skills and competencies that their clients do not possess and cannot nurture within their own organizations.

For most design companies, and for most of the history of the design industry, that unique value has been storytelling. The client makes a product or service and then turns to the studio or agency to help them tell the world about it. Look at the portfolios of most design companies and you’ll see that they’re full of works that are essentially marketing narratives — graphic solutions intended to communicate a story about a client’s product to the world.

Digital media requires something different, though. It’s not sufficient to just publish a narrative to the Internet. You have to build an experience around it, a system that lets the user experience the narrative but also one that responds to his or her inputs and contributions. Basically, to create anything meaningful in digital media, you need to think in terms of a product, not just a story.

However, it’s very hard for a design studio to create digital products on a contract basis because the messy timelines and continual course corrections that are required to launch a truly effective software product are anathema to the way clients like to be billed. No matter what a design studio promises, it’s very likely that in its first iteration a digital product will take longer to complete, will cost more, and will be less effective than originally promised. The most critical time for designers to be involved in a digital product is all the time, but it’s perhaps most important for them to stick around after the launch, when they can see how a real user base is using it, and then amend, refine, revise and evolve it. But it’s at just about this time that most studios are preparing invoices and shuffling their staff on to other clients’ projects.

I had this experience when I was doing services work, and I knew so many other people who did as well. The familiar refrain was, “We designed a great first pass, but our contract ended and we weren’t able to stick with the product. Now the client has gone off and made so many changes without us.”

What’s more, it’s not as if the services model works so well for clients anymore, either. It’s one thing to manufacture a widget and turn to a design studio to create a logo, a package, a brochure for it — to basically tell its story. But more and more, every business is becoming a digital business, is responsible for digital products. If a company is not able to design, develop and maintain their own products without outside help, then what kind of future does that company have?

Basically, I came to the conclusion that if I wanted to design great user experiences then that old model of being a design contractor or a studio or an agency would not work. Instead, it’s necessary to be a part of the company that owns the product, to be in a position where I can continually work on and improve the product without the artificial constraints of a services contract.

Had I reached this conclusion a decade or so ago, the obvious next step would have been to join another company, but the Internet has changed so much since then. Today, the cost of starting a new digital business has plummeted, and the support infrastructure for first time entrepreneurs has become incredibly robust. There is no shortage of advice and experience freely available for people, like me, who are jumping into the entrepreneurial pool for the first time. Why join a company when you can be the company?

More than that, though, the fabric of opportunity has changed, too. A few months ago I wrote about what Paul Saffo calls the creator economy. He describes it as a new economic paradigm in which the act of producing and consuming are one and the same, and he believes it’s upon us right now. I subscribe to this theory, and I believe its most fascinating expression takes the form of social software, in which there is no consumption unless its users produce, and there is no production unless its users consume. The secret sauce that starts this virtuous cycle is not just technology, but also user experience design.

We use the term ‘startup’ and ‘tech startup’ interchangeably, but the latter is becoming less and less fully accurate over time. Many recent startups are powered by design as much as technology, because the technology has matured so greatly that the difference-maker is design. Design is playing a key part in the success of Tumblr, Instagram, Flipboard, Groupon, Kickstarter and many, many others. These are the great new design companies, not the studios and agencies you read about in the design press.

There is so much that remains to be resolved in the digital landscape, and so much of it will depend on great design. In my view, the very existence of this opportunity alone has changed the design industry, because it presents an amazing alternative to the client services model, and will hopefully unleash a torrent of creative energy and invention that clients never would have brooked. When I realized this, I decided that I had to take part in it.

ADDENDUM

While I was drafting this post, two highly related blog posts from authors I greatly respect popped up on my radar.The first was “Will Ford Learn That Software Isn’t Manufactured?” by Alan Cooper. As the founder of a premier user experience design consultancy, Cooper might disagree with me on the viability of the design services model. But I found myself fully agreeing with him when he says, “Automobile manufacturing companies like Ford need to acknowledge that they are no longer making automobiles with attached computer systems. In reality, they are making computer control systems with attached motion mechanisms.” This is a sterling example of my contention that, more and more, all businesses are becoming digital businesses.

Second, there is this article from Ben Pierrat of Svpply, titled “Dear Graphic and Web Designers…” It᾿s a much more succinct version of some of my thoughts here on why the most interesting opportunities for designers are not necessarily with clients.

—————————————————–

Until Gotham No Longer Needs Batman

by Erika Hall

Within the context of this piece, interactive design refers to the practice of conceiving of and creating useful, usable objects, services, and systems that people (users) experience through a digital device. Branding and graphic design are typically involved. A designer is a practitioner in this field who may specialize in any of several sub-disciplines.

Whew, I got that out of the way.

Recently, several designers I respect have celebrated their decision to join or start a Product company—a company that makes services or systems on its own behalf rather than for others—in the form of an obituary for Client Services. This declaration has cropped up in personal conversations and public writing. No longer a viable professional path or a model of creating value, the agency is dead. Ownership and the “creator economy” are the future. Excelsior.

As a survivor of the first New Economy (and the subsequent Return of the Old Economy like Jaws on the fourth of July) absolutist pronouncements make me itchy.

Also, such pronouncements are absolutely wrong.

I totally understand the appeal of ownership, especially for skilled, thoughtful designers who have earned their Decade of Service badge. Client services, while incredibly rewarding in many ways, requires accommodating people and practices from other professional cultures. This can lead to painful personal interactions, and a gnawing feeling you are spending more time debating than designing.

As a designer you trade control for variety, opportunity, and adventure. On good days, it’s exciting and stimulating and will push you towards greatness in the service of worthwhile objectives. On bad days, it feels like Dante’s fourth circle of Hell (unceasing fisticuffs while attached to boulders). And on the worst days, you see something you have poured your energy into for months or years corrupted by neglect, ignorance, or competing agendas because you are not the ultimate owner.

So, yes. An experienced designer might very well cry “Enough! I am going to do it my way.” And bully for them. Because of recent developments in technology (availability of low-cost infrastructure) and the economy (availability of early-stage funding), there is a lot of opportunity.

But what is true for individuals is not true for industries. And the opportunity for ownership for some is not the death of services for all.

In terms of a career choice or offering, product vs service is also a false dichotomy. It is frequently more a case of emphasis, emphasis that can shift over time. Many product companies in virtually every industry offer consulting, design, development or support services, and many service agencies make products. Whether the relationship is on-the-side or side-by-side can shift.

The traditional model of design services rests on the notion that a design studio or agency offers a unique value, a set of highly specialized skills and competencies that their clients do not possess and cannot nurture within their own organizations.—Khoi Vinh

This is true. It’s still true. It will never not be true.

I would love to be able to snap my fingers and reorient every company on this planet around user-centered design, while simultaneously sowing horn-rimmed glasses to reap an army of designers. Ain’t gonna happen.

Many companies are not solely digital product companies, but need a digital experience as part of their business. Many companies who might benefit from design might have a culture that is antithetical to design work. There are countless reasons why clients doing worthwhile, interesting work don’t have, don’t need, or can’t build in-house the level of design expertise they require, even for their core products:

  • There is no substitute for an outside perspective, when needed.
  • The need for top-flight strategic design may be occasional, while a competent production team serves perfectly well in the interim.
  • The advantage of design to the business outweighs the appeal of the company to designers.
  • Talent is scarce.
  • Internal resources are consumed by core products, when an opportunity to innovate or expand presents itself.

And there are just as many reasons why a designer would want to work in client services:

  • The give and take with great clients pushes designers to perform.
  • It’s possible to have a small-organization lifestyle with large-organization impact. (Sure, start-ups are small…at first, but not after they’ve been acquired.)
  • Solving problems in many contexts is designer cross-training.
  • Constant critique from peers and clients sharpens thinking and skills like nothing else.
  • Completing a project with agreed-upon goals, scope and timeline is very satisfying. And helping people is awesome.
  • External designers are often offered more leverage and leeway than a member of an internal team, as long as they deliver what they promise.

Yes, the work can be difficult to scope and manage, because work of any complexity is a challenge to scope and manage, particularly when you are bringing two different operational processes into sync.

And just because a client hires people from the outside is not a guarantee they’ll meet their goals. The designers might be bad or self-indulgent (watch out for overuse of the word “creative”), or incapable of pushing back. And the idea just might be stupid, so fundamentally flawed or unnecessary, that no designer can save it and they should have told the client that in the first place.

But here we are at the bottom line, which is:

The designer-client relationship remains one of many ways to accomplish great things. And it’s one of which we are quite fond.

 

This past month I posted an article titled, “Graphic Designer Note May Never Get Printed” where, because of the decline of print and the increased number of people calling themselves “graphic designers,” I questioned how much longer we graphic designers could continue referring to ourselves as such without that title becoming diluted and meaningless.

With well know designers like Nicholas Felton and Erik Spiekermann contributing to the conversation the article attracted over 3,000 readers.

The overwhelming response was, it doesn’t really matter what we call ourselves—with several readers, including Mr. Spiekermann, suggesting (perhaps tongue-in-cheek) graphic design has never been understood by anyone.

A Twitter comment by Paul Soulellis really resonated; “…it’s precisely because of the issues @andyjacobson brings up that “graphic designer” should be claimed & owned, not discarded”.

I think Paul is right. Though the technology may be broadening the definition of what a Graphic Designer is it is up to each of us to clearly communicate, to both clients and others, what it is we do.

The U.S. Department of Labor defines Graphic Designer as: Graphic designers—or graphic artists—plan, analyze, and create visual solutions to communications problems. (see http://www.bls.gov/oco/ocos090.htm)

What’s missing in this definition is that we also help to create an editorial framework—which is essential before thinking about a “visual solution”. In fact, I think that’s one of the key attributes of a professional Graphic Designer.

So let’s come up with a definition. As TED’s Chris Anderson taught me through his development of the Email Charter, let’s do this as a crowd.  It’s a shared problem. Let’s come up with a shared solution. Please post your thoughts below (or email me directly).

This past April I posted my thoughts on how to write an email. My timing couldn’t have been better. A month later TED’s Chris Anderson, posted his own thoughts on the “do’s & don’ts” of emailing, and invited others to add their own suggestions.

I did—along with almost 50,000 other people.

This week Chris released the official “Email Charter” (and **patting myself on the back** thanked me for contributing).

Following are the 10 rules of the official Email Charter (you can find the original, and help promote it, here):

  1. Respect Recipients’ Time This is the fundamental rule. As the message sender, the onus is on YOU to minimize the time your email will take to process. Even if it means taking more time at your end before sending.
  2. Short or Slow is not Rude Let’s mutually agree to cut each other some slack. Given the email load we’re all facing, it’s OK if replies take a while coming and if they don’t give detailed responses to all your questions. No one wants to come over as brusque, so please don’t take it personally. We just want our lives back!
  3. Celebrate Clarity Start with a subject line that clearly labels the topic, and maybe includes a status category [Info], [Action], [Time Sens] [Low Priority]. Use crisp, muddle-free sentences. If the email has to be longer than five sentences, make sure the first provides the basic reason for writing. Avoid strange fonts and colors.
  4. Quash Open-Ended Questions It is asking a lot to send someone an email with four long paragraphs of turgid text followed by “Thoughts?”. Even well-intended-but-open questions like “How can I help?” may not be that helpful. Email generosity requires simplifying, easy-to-answer questions. “Can I help best by a) calling b) visiting or c) staying right out of it?!”
  5. Slash Surplus cc’s cc’s are like mating bunnies. For every recipient you add, you are dramatically multiplying total response time. Not to be done lightly! When there are multiple recipients, please don’t default to ‘Reply All’. Maybe you only need to cc a couple of people on the original thread. Or none.
  6. Tighten the Thread Some emails depend for their meaning on context. Which means it’s usually right to include the thread being responded to. But it’s rare that a thread should extend to more than 3 emails. Before sending, cut what’s not relevant. Or consider making a phone call instead.
  7. Attack Attachments Don’t use graphics files as logos or signatures that appear as attachments. Time is wasted trying to see if there’s something to open. Even worse is sending text as an attachment when it could have been included in the body of the email.
  8. Give these Gifts: EOM NNTR If your email message can be expressed in half a dozen words, just put it in the subject line, followed by EOM (= End of Message). This saves the recipient having to actually open the message. Ending a note with “No need to respond” or NNTR, is a wonderful act of generosity. Many acronyms confuse as much as help, but these two are golden and deserve wide adoption.
  9. Cut Contentless Responses You don’t need to reply to every email, especially not those that are themselves clear responses. An email saying “Thanks for your note. I’m in.” does not need you to reply “Great.” That just cost someone another 30 seconds.
  10. Disconnect! If we all agreed to spend less time doing email, we’d all get less email! Consider calendaring half-days at work where you can’t go online. Or a commitment to email-free weekends. Or an ‘auto-response’ that references this charter. And don’t forget to smell the roses.

Yesterday I went to a showing of Page One: Inside the New York Times, a documentary directed by Andrew Rossi, who was given unprecedented access to the Times for fourteen months.

The film, which I very much enjoyed, is a social commentary about the current state of newspapers and their relationship with news aggregators and social media. In presenting the Times’ own economic woes, the film also questions just how much longer (and how much) people will be willing to pay to keep the paper alive.

A lot about this story can be said for all print media. And if that’s the case—is the title, “Graphic Designer”, as we know it, also dying? I think so.

A question for my graphic designer friends: How many print identities have you done this past year? How about CD packaging? Corporate brochures? Posters? Book covers? Magazine redesigns (or start-ups)? And if you are working on these types of projects are you making good money?

I’m not suggesting that our talents, as graphic designers, will no longer be needed in the future, but I am certain that we need to rethink what we call ourselves. Much like doctors we need to determine what our specialty is and then determine the best title to communicate that specialty.

I became a Graphic Designer because of my passion for telling stories, and my natural ability to figure out the best way to tell those stories visually.

I suspect that website designers, UI/UX designers, programmers, interactive designer, art directors, or even some illustrators don’t share the same passion. I’m not suggesting these people don’t care about the story, I just believe that their process is very different. And it’s that process that should help define who they are, i.e.; what they are called.

We can’t all share the same title. We can’t continue calling ourselves Graphic Designers. It’s not only unfair to the people that are hiring us, it’s professional suicide.

Slept late, didn’t have to walk the dog, breakfast was waiting for me, didn’t do any of the grilling for dinner, and didn’t have to clean up afterwards. Yup, best part of the weekend was today, all day, with my family.

Happy Father’s Day to all the wonderful dads I’ve known—both past and present.


 

I started this blog just over two months ago thinking that once a week I’d write an article that’s work-related and may be of interest to my readers.

I’ve since learned two things:

1. That was a stupid idea.

2. The type of “work-related” articles that may be of interest to my readers don’t necessarily develop on a weekly basis. Like most good thoughts and ideas, we need time to process our experiences and formulate the best way to present them.

That’s exactly what I hope to do.

In the meantime, I still plan on posting the “Best Part of the Weekend” every week because, let’s face it, my weekdays may be boring from time to time but if my weekend sucks … boy have I wasted a lot of time in therapy.

 

This afternoon J and I headed over to Dickson’s Farmstand, “a purveyor of unique artisanal meat and meat products”, to pick up some rib eyes–my favorite meat for grilling.

I challenge you to come up with a better butcher’s shop in NYC than Dickson’s.

Here’s just one reason I love these guys; they tie their rib eyes into a roll so that when each rib eye is cut—I like mine 1 1/4 inches—the thickness is even throughout so that when you’re grilling them you don’t get rare on one end and well done on the other—brilliant.

With a sprinkle of salt and pepper on both sides I’ll let these babies sit on a medium fire for about 4 minutes per side and then take them off to let them cool. That’s a trick I learned from my old friend Sascha, the former Owner/Executive Chef of the now defunct Sascha on Gansevoort Street — who has risen from the ashes in the City of Angels (see Delphine).

While the steaks are cooling the blood (juiciness) congeals back into the center of the steak. Once cooled I put them back on the fire to get them hot again. Don’t leave them on for more than a minute because beef does continue to “cook” for a bit even off the fire.

Just before serving sprinkle a little kosher salt on the steaks for flavoring.

Enjoy!

 

Last April I wrote a posting on this blog titled, “How To Write An Email”. My thoughts and suggestions came from personal experience, as well as what I’ve learned by following a number of well known communication thought leaders.

Just today I found a “call to arms” from one of those people, Chris Anderson, curator of the TED Conferences.

With the hope of reducing the “escalating spiral of obligation and stress” — never mind the time we spend reading and responding to emails — Chris has posted some very smart email “rules” on his blog, TEDChris: The untweetable. He’s calling them “candidate rules for an Email Charter” and has even reserved a URL for the final product.

Take a look and let him know; which rules do you like? which do you hate? which need amending? and what new and better rules can you come up with?”.