Design, Reason and Responsibility

As a designer and parent, these three words are carrying a lot weight for me these days. I’d like to think that I can recognize good design when I see it, but lately, I’m seeing a lot of industrial and brand design executions that go beyond reasonable. The Juul brand is a case in point. Elegant product design, well crafted packaging and brand design, right down to the core logo, proper kerning of typography and smart color choices. Explosive financial growth and market value. Well designed? Sure. Reasonably, responsibly designed? I think not.

As designers, we might want to take pause on the RFP and subsequent acceptance of lucrative design contracts on questionably harmful products and consider just what the hell it is that we’re doing. Yes, this is a free market economy, and yes, we are in the business of crafting effective stories, beautiful form and delivering successful business results that are well designed on behalf of our clients. But I might challenge us all to consider what’s reasonable and responsible. As in asking ourselves: “Is it reasonable and responsible that I would do this, full well knowing that the product I’m designing for might harm people?” Sure, it’s a huge budget that might keep a design business owner moving along, make payroll, and provide for the future of their kids as a business owner and parent. But in the long run, these types of products are harmful and dangerous to our common health and well being. Is the retainer check worth an honest look in the mirror?

Now is when some of you might call me a holy roller, or naive idealist. I’m neither. I have contributed to design efforts that have marketed and sold millions upon millions of pairs of shoes, hardgoods, softgoods and the like of which arguably we don’t need as many of. But I have to say, when it comes to talking about a pair of shoes that can inspire and enable a person to run better, get out there and get fit, or have a useful utility piece that functions well and lasts for years, my conscience is pretty much clear for the most part. However, can I and these companies do better as to our carbon footprint? Absolutely. We do not live in a perfect world, but my suggestion is that we as designers reasonably consider OUR footprint on who we serve.

As makers and storytellers, we have a responsibility to help shape the conversation around the products that can serve people in a healthier, more sustainable world. I know it’s tough. When you have a design business built on profit and loss, the dollars stack up. It’s daunting. And when a company like Juul shows up with a stack of cash and wants you to do what you do best; which is to craft beautiful form, tell convincing stories and shine a bright light on their product?...well, hard to resist, right? You bet.

My only point is that as storytellers and craftspeople of formal ideas, objects and communication, we also have a reasonable responsibility to question ourselves on what OUR brand footprint looks like, as designers. As in, if we do our job well with a vape pen company, what will the impact look like beyond our financial retainer and design competition submissions? I see the results every day with the little blue/green plastic Juul caps littering the streets, and kids getting in trouble in school for dab penning or vaping on campus, much less the risk to their health and well being. 

At the end of the day, I never underestimate the power of design. There is hope for us to assume and act on an evolved role; not merely as product, experience and communications service providers for commerce, but rather as an effective, powerful force in leading positive cultural discourse and change. I am not discounting or dismissing the many designers and creators who today advocate for social change, but as design businesses in the trenches, we can do better. It’s a supply and demand equation. If more designers turned down the Juuls of the world, they wouldn’t have the brand fuel and fire, pardon the pun. Considering the power we wield in culture, let’s realize a different conversation; not only through what we do and how we do it, but through who we decide to do it with.  

We can change the conversation.