Speaking Design Language

How does a worldwide technology company present a design statement across its growing global portfolio that’s consistent without being prescriptive?

That was the issue facing Microsoft three years ago. Until then, our offices didn’t have much in common, beyond the branding in its reception areas. Workplace efficiencies were valued and design was an important element, but we had never developed a point of view about its design. Coherence of experience across—sometimes even within—properties was lacking; in its early decades people could drive through Microsoft's Redmond Headquarters and think it was an office park of different companies.

As Microsoft grew to 45.9 million square feet over 779 global sites—a small city in terms of rentable square footage—the need for design consistency became clear. Microsoft’s then-new CEO, Satya Nadella, had ushered in a Culture Brand to establish cultural norms for the company—norms our design group could translate into foundational design principles, images, and descriptions. Not cookie-cutter prescriptions dictating paint colors or carpet styles, but a thread running across all Microsoft properties, a frame for containing the creativity of architects and designers, and a means for evoking the same feeling across spaces very different from one another.  

Hence the Design Language for Place: a “living” document, transcending design guidelines, seeking to articulate principles and ideas to evoke Microsoft’s unique brand in every workplace. Created in collaboration with SkB Architects, the Design Language draws inspiration from all over. The culture attributes of Nadella’s message—humanizing, connecting, intelligence—are the foundation, but we had to go beyond just handing designers three words, and translate their meaning into the effects on physical space. We held design “salons” internally to help us to see what Microsoft is (natural, calm, comfortable) and what it isn’t (predictable, overly designed, trendy). Nadella’s words—“There’s no reason the workplace should be any less alive, vibrant, and inviting than the places we live,”—guided our thinking.

The resulting Design Language adds up to an aesthetic that’s warm, inviting, and human. Eight “Big Ideas” sketch its broadest principles, like “Nature Infused,” “Regionally Relevant,” and “Timeless with Distinction.” “Alone and Together” refers to design that lets employees feel a part of things without necessarily having to engage with one another. “Discovery” suggests design that does double-duty, like a textured wall treatment that, on closer inspection, reveals a photograph. “Elevating the Ordinary” enshrines the notion that even restroom signs can be aesthetic elements.

Its “Baseline Components” section is where the Design Language addresses, ceilings, lighting, floor treatments, and other components found in every building, while its “Signature Elements” section is where the unique pieces that make up the details of design are addressed. Exactly which unique pieces will be up to the designer—and it’s a fair bet that a designer in London will choose different details than a designer in Milan.

Indeed, now that the Design Language has been in play for two and a half years, the Microsoft portfolio has over a dozen projects with the Design Language in action—London to Milan, Israel to Redmond, and many points between. Along the way we’ve learned a few things—like that “Regionally Relevant” requires a subtle hand from designers, who must work out how to express the culture of, say, the Pacific Northwest, without putting a 20-foot salmon on the lobby wall. We’ve learned that the Design Language’s reference imagery has been crucial in helping designers to understand what we’re going for, but that it needs continuous updating to remain fresh. The Design Language was composed to be an evolving document, to take the needs of the future workforce into account, and to flex and grow as the company does—without losing its essence. 

We’ve learned that we can call Design Language’s non-prescriptive, big-picture approach a success. The feedback we get from both architects and clients has been overwhelmingly positive—a response that was particularly welcome from the designers in Milan, who, given Italy’s stature as the design capital of the world, might have felt justified in going their own way. We think the embrace comes in part because the look is so unexpected in a technology business. You see so many high-tech interiors that are bright white, splash of color on one wall, with a scooter running through. That brand belongs to others. By contrast, the warm, inviting, and human essence of Microsoft’s Design Language stands apart, with a timelessness designed to keep it relevant for years to come. Martha Clarkson