We need to talk about the plague of designer’s insecurity
To the designers out there who feel inadequate: you are not alone.
It usually starts as a casual chat between designers. Life updates followed by sharing exciting projects we’re currently working on and continued with some-meta discussion before work-venting creeps in. Some leaves and those who stay starts opening up about their insecurities. About the self-inflicted pressure to constantly up our games, venturing into new skills, change the world, et cetera. Typical after-office weekday hangout I’d say. But what makes insecurity so imminent and imposter syndrome so wide-spread in our industry?
Over the years, I’ve interacted with amazing designers on all levels. A shared theme among them is the constant feeling of inadequacy, and often the best ones, are plagued by. I’m guilty as charged as well. I spent most part of last year in depression, despite loving my work and on paper having a pretty kick-ass life. The problem was, I attached my self-worth to my work. I let every up and down at work directly impact my mental well-being, and eventually, I decided to put a (soft) end to this cycle of feeling inadequate.
And as I worked through my buffet of insecurities on low self-worth, I started opening up about it to friends and colleagues. Who again opened up about it themselves. And as my referral list to my therapist grew fat with designers and young professionals, I realized how widespread it is.
But I’m not writing this text to explore the ‘whys’ of this shared feeling of inadequacy across the industry — I’ll leave that to others — rather I want to share the things that worked for me in addressing my issues. So what has years of battling insecurity taught me?
Focus on your strength, not weaknesses.
Some time ago, just three weeks after I joined a hyper-growth tech company, I told one of my colleagues that I didn’t have what it takes to work there. It was in the middle of the induction week, where I was introduced to Data Science, Marketing Technology, The Design Systems — you get the gist. I met some incredibly well-articulated and sharp product managers –and expected enough, I felt like I’m the dumbest person in the organization.
My colleague’s advice was simple, but it sticks. He said, “You’re surrounded by crazy talented individuals. If you constantly measure yourself against them and constantly try to fill in your weak spots, you’d be death by a thousand cuts in no time. The company hired you for a reason — so focus on your strength.”
I’m not sure if its designers’ innate nature of exploration that made us feel that we need to master multiple skillsets, but the pursuit of fulfilling the missing skillset often comes with the unintended consequence of us forgetting the craft that made us where we are now. I decided to play my strengths relative to the rest of the organization, and I proceed to try to build a stronger human-centered design mindset in the organization. In return, I got to learn to speak in the language of my different stakeholders. I learned that by focusing on my strength, I get to bridge design with the rest of the business, which is a far more realistic goal than to be able to master my missing skills.
80% works, and that’s totally fine.
We recently worked with a Scandinavia-based client, and they were blown away with our work. It was a great achievement for the team but the effort it took to deliver the work was quite spirit-breaking. As the lead, I was obsessed with making a point that third-world designers are as good as designers from the developed world. I demanded 110% from my team, which translated to a number of sleepless nights where we crammed weeks worth of work in a couple of days. My desire to over-deliver impacted the well being of the team. It was a classic case when one’s insecurity comes at the expense of others.
Then it hit me: that overdelivering has become the baseline of our work, which always set us up for burnout. Maybe it stems from our mindset that everything can always be iterated and no work is ever final. As far as I remember, I never got feedback from anyone that it is fine to deliver good enough work, and I certainly passed that mindset to my team as well.
The pursuit of going from 80 to 100% often leaves more bruises than going from 0 to 80. The gain we get from it feeds more to our ego than the incremental value it brings to the business, and the as the return diminishes it leaves us with accumulating anxiety. Maybe we’ll be more at peace with our work if we can start to value sufficiently good enough work.
Make work work for you.
I asked for a demotion: twice. In one year. I was initially hired as the head of research for the entire org, and then took the step down to research lead for multiple product verticals, and finally found my sweet spot leading a smaller team in a single vertical. While many might see it as a foolish decision, I see it as a decision I took to not let work ate my well-being.
The “rise to the challenge”, or “sink or swim”, attitude has taken a real toll on many designers that I know, especially those who hold responsibility far beyond their leadership experiences. I overtime learned that we do not always have to accept challenges that set us up for a far too big of a responsibility. We need to create a culture where it’s okay to hustle less and it’s encouraged to be a strong individual contributor, rather than a failed lead. A culture where success is not defined by the ladder one climb, but the impact one brings.
Get back to the field
When I reflect on the high moments of my career, it usually takes me back to the experiences that I gathered during fieldwork. Whether it’s from working with kids in rural Indonesia to imagining the perfect school for them, or when we built ties with locals while getting piss-drunk during our off-fieldwork days in China. However, I also realise that in my efforts to expand my skillset, I often skip the chance to go to the field- rather opting for simpler more efficient research (“we only have a week to do this, so let’s just talk to some people from the office!” — sounds familiar?).
Getting up close and personal with people we are designing for, and observe how our products/services play a role in their life, in my opinion, gives a joy that, even for a moment, makes all the pain building them worth it. Also, when we do our fieldwork with the purpose of gaining inspiration, as opposed to getting validation, it enriches not only our understanding of users but also enriching our lives as individuals.
Have a life.
I’ve met super-talented designers, who, in the pursuit of being thought leaders invest almost the entirety of their time for work. Obsessively reading books. Listening to design/product podcasts. Writing blogs. Prepping for talks and conferences. Learning about data science (I know, right).. While they inspire others through their thought leadership pieces, many aren’t necessarily at peace and often battling with anxiety.
When my attachment to work took a huge toll on my mental health, I picked up therapy and subsequently decided to have a life, and not necessarily the profound, life-changing ones you see on “I’m on a break” Linkedin posts. I decided that it is okay to have a mediocre life. I invested time in hanging out with my friends and rekindle old friendships. I’d Sunday binge Netflix without feeling bad about it. I try to pick up new hobbies, sometimes only to fail miserably, but at least it gives me a sense of new discovery. The mundane discoveries that I get from taking that break often birth new ideas for work. I found myself being more energized at work and even more keen on experimenting. Not attaching my self-worth to work and not feeling guilty about having a life is by far what help me the most in gaining back the confidence, and the love to what I do as a designer.
In short: stop trying to be a great designer, and some of you will be a better designer for it.
I’m sure that there are many other ways to cope with designers’ insecurities (not taking others’ case studies at face value, for example ;) ). Would be great if some of you can share your stories, so we can fight this plague of designers’ insecurities together!
