Humility: An Essential Value

Humility, a writer’s necessary value—that has a good ring to it. What about sincerity, an business manager’s necessary value? Or a surgeon’s? Or a teacher’s? They all good wonderful. When humility is our guiding light, the course is usually available for fulfillment, development, relation, and commitment. In this book, we’re going to discuss about why.

That said, this is a guide for developers, and to that conclusion, I’d like to begin with a story—well, a voyage, actually. It’s a private one, and I’m going to make myself a little prone along the way. I call it:

The Tale of Justin’s Preposterous Pate

When I was coming out of arts school, a long-haired, goateed novice, write was a known quantity to me, design on the web, however, was riddled with complexities to understand and learn, a problem to be solved. Though I had been fully trained in graphic design, font, and design, what fascinated me was how these classic skills may be applied to a budding online landscape. This style may ultimately determine the direction of my job.

But I drained HTML and JavaScript books until the early hours of the morning and self-taught myself how to code during my freshman year rather than student and go into write like many of my friends. I needed to understand what my design choices would ultimately think when rendered in a website, which I did not want to do.

The later ‘ 90s and early 2000s were the so-called” Wild West” of web design. The modern landscape was being studied by designers at the time as they attempted to incorporate design and visual communication. What were the laws? How may we break them and also engage, entertain, and present information? At a more micro level, how was my values, inclusive of modesty, admiration, and link, coincide in combination with that? I was looking for answers.

Those are amazing factors between non-career relationships and the world of design, even though I’m talking about a different time. What are your main passions, or ideals, that elevate medium? The main elements are all the same, basically the same as what we previously discussed earlier on the immediate parallels between what fulfills you, independent of the visible or online domains.

First within tables, animated GIFs, Flash, then with Web Standards, divs, and CSS, there was personality, raw unbridled creativity, and unique means of presentment that often defied any semblance of a visible grid. Splash screens and “browser requirement” pages aplenty. Usability and accessibility were typically victims of such a creation, but such paramount facets of any digital design were largely (and, in hindsight, unfairly) disregarded at the expense of experimentation.

For example, this iteration of my personal portfolio site (” the pseudoroom” ) from that era was experimental, if not a bit heavy- handed, in the visual communication of the concept of a living sketchbook. Very skeuomorphic. On this one, we would first sketch and then pass a Photoshop file back and forth to trick things out and play with various user interactions. I co-founded the creative project organizing app Milanote and my dear friend, fellow designer Marc Clancy. Then, I’d break it down and code it into a digital layout.

Along with design folio pieces, the site also offered free downloads for Mac OS customizations: desktop wallpapers that were effectively design experimentation, custom-designed typefaces, and desktop icons.

From around the same time, GUI Galaxy was a design, pixel art, and Mac-centric news portal some graphic designer friends and I conceived, designed, developed, and deployed.

Design news portals were incredibly popular during this period, featuring ( what would now be considered ) Tweet-size, small-format snippets of pertinent news from the categories I previously mentioned. If you took Twitter, curated it to a few categories, and wrapped it in a custom-branded experience, you’d have a design news portal from the late 90s / early 2000s.

We as designers had evolved and created a bandwidth-sensitive, web standards award-winning, much more accessibility-conscious website. Still ripe with experimentation, yet more mindful of equitable engagement. You can see a couple of content panes here, noting general news (tech, design ) and Mac-centric news below. We also provided many of the custom downloads I previously mentioned as being accessible on my folio website but with a GUI Galaxy theme and branding.

The site’s backbone was a homegrown CMS, with the presentation layer consisting of global design + illustration + news author collaboration. And the collaboration effort here, in addition to experimentation on a’ brand’ and content delivery, was hitting my core. We were creating a larger-than-anyone experience and establishing a global audience.

Collaboration and connection transcend media in their impact, which have been extremely satisfying for me as a designer.

Now, why am I taking you on this trip through design memory lane? Two reasons.

First, there’s a reason for the nostalgia for that design era ( the” Wild West” era, as I called it earlier ): the inherent exploration, personality, and creativity that saturated many design portals and personal portfolio sites. Ultra-finely detailed pixel art UI, custom illustration, bespoke vector graphics, all underpinned by a strong design community.

Today’s web design has been in a period of stagnation. There’s a good chance you’ve seen a website with a hero image, a banner with text overlays, perhaps with a lovely rotating carousel of images ( laying the snark on heavy there ), three columns of sub-content directly beneath, and three columns of sub-content, according to the theory. Perhaps there are selections that vaguely relate to their respective content in an icon library.

Design, as it’s applied to the digital landscape, is in dire need of thoughtful layout, typography, and visual engagement that goes hand-in-hand with all the modern considerations we now know are paramount: usability. Accessibility. Load times and bandwidth- sensitive content delivery. A user-friendly presentation that connects with people wherever they are. We must be mindful of, and respectful toward, those concerns—but not at the expense of creativity of visual communication or via replicating cookie-cutter layouts.

Pixel Problems

Websites built during this time were frequently built and built on Macs whose desktops and OSs looked something like this. This is Mac OS 7.5, but 8 and 9 weren’t that different.

Desktop icons fascinated me: how could any single one, at any given point, stand out to get my attention? In this example, the user’s desktop is tidy, but think of a more realistic example with icon pandemonium. Or, say an icon was part of a larger system grouping ( fonts, extensions, control panels ) —how did it also maintain cohesion amongst a group?

These were 32 x 32 pixel creations, utilizing a 256-color palette, designed pixel-by-pixel as mini mosaics. This seemed to me to be the embodiment of digital visual communication under such absurd restrictions. And frequently, ridiculous restrictions lead to concept and theme purification.

So I began to research and do my homework. I was a student of this new medium, hungry to dissect, process, discover, and make it my own.

Expanding upon the notion of exploration, I wanted to see how I could push the limits of a 32×32 pixel grid with that 256-color palette. These ridiculous requirements imposed a clarity of concept and presentation that I found to be incredibly appealing. I was thrown the digital gauntlet, and that challenge fueled my determination. And so, in my dorm room into the wee hours of the morning, I toiled away, bringing conceptual sketches into mini mosaic fruition.

These are some of my creations that made use of ResEdit, the only program I had at the time, to create icons. ResEdit was a clumsy, built-in Mac OS utility that wasn’t really designed for what we were using it for. At the core of all of this work: Research. Challenge. Problem- solving. Again, these core connection-based values are agnostic of medium.

One more design portal that I want to mention also serves as the second reason for my story to connect this all.

This is K10k, short for Kaliber 1000. Michael Schmidt and Toke Nygaard founded K10k in 1998 as the web’s first design news site at the time. With its pixel art-fueled presentation, ultra-focused care given to every facet and detail, and with many of the more influential designers of the time who were invited to be news authors on the site, well… it was the place to be, my friend. The work these people were doing gave rise to the idea of GUI Galaxy, which was inspired by their work.

For my part, the combination of my pixel art and web design work started to gain me some notoriety in the design community. K10k eventually figured out that I was one of their very limited group of news writers who could contribute content to the website.

Amongst my personal work and side projects —and now with this inclusion—in the design community, this put me on the map. My design work has also begun to appear on other design news portals, as well as in publications abroad and domestically as well as in various printed collections. With that degree of success while in my early twenties, something else happened:

I evolved—devolved, really—into a colossal asshole ( and in just about a year out of art school, no less ). The praise and the press were the things that made me happy, and they went straight into my head. They inflated my ego. I actually felt a little better than my fellow designers.

The casualties? My design stagnated. Its evolution—my evolution — stagnated.

I effectively stopped researching and discovering because I felt so incredibly confident in my abilities. When I used to lead sketch concepts or iterations as my first instinctive step, I instead leaped right into Photoshop. I drew my inspiration from the tiniest of sources ( and with no discernible bias ). Any criticism of my work from my fellow students was frequently vehemently dissented. The most tragic loss: I had lost touch with my values.

Some of my friendships and blossoming professional relationships almost ended up being destroyed by my ego. I was toxic in talking about design and in collaboration. But thankfully, those same friends gave me a priceless gift: candor. They called me out on my unhealthy behavior.

It’s true, I initially didn’t accept it, but after much reflection, I was able to accept it. I was soon able to accept, and process, and course correct. The realization laid me low, but the re-awakening was essential. I let go of the “reward” of admiration and turned my attention to the issues that had plagued my art school career. Most importantly: I got back to my core values.

Always Students

Following that short-term regression, I was able to push forward in my personal design and career. And I was able to reflect on myself as I grew to support further development and course correction as needed.

As an example, let’s talk about the Large Hadron Collider. The LHC was created” to assist in answering some of the fundamental open questions in physics, which concern the fundamental laws governing the interactions and forces between elementary objects, the complex structure of space and time, and in particular the relationship between general relativity and quantum mechanics.” Thanks, Wikipedia.

In one of my earlier professional roles, I about fifteen years ago created the interface for the application that produced the LHC’s particle collision diagrams. These diagrams are the depiction of what is actually happening inside the Collider during any given particle collision event and are frequently regarded as works of art by themselves.

I had a fascinating experience designing the interface for this application because I collaborated with Fermilab physicists to understand both how the application was intended to use it and how the physicists themselves would use it. To that end, in this role,

Working with the Fermilab team to make changes and tweak the interface, I gave in to the practice. To me, their language and the topics they discussed seemed to me to be foreign languages. And by accepting that I was just a student and working with the mindset that I was only a student, I made myself available to them in order to form that crucial bond.

I also had my first ethnographic observational experience, which involved visiting the Fermilab location and observing how the physicists used the tool in their own environments, on their own terminals. One takeaway was that the facility’s high level of ambient light-driven contrast ultimately led to the use of white text on a dark gray background rather than black text-on-white. This made it easier for them to pore over a lot of data during the day and lessen their strain on their eyes. Additionally, since Fermilab and CERN are government entities with strict accessibility requirements, my knowledge in that field also expanded. The barrier-free design was another essential form of connection.

So to those core drivers of my visual problem-solving soul and ultimate fulfillment: discovery, exposure to new media, observation, human connection, and evolution. Before I entered those values, I checked my ego before entering the door.

An evergreen willingness to listen, learn, understand, grow, evolve, and connect yields our best work. In particular, I want to focus on the words’ grow’ and ‘ evolve’ in that statement. If we are constantly improving our craft, we are also continuously making ourselves available for improvement. Yes, we have years of practical design experience behind us. Or the focused lab training from a bootcamp for UX. Or the monogrammed portfolio of our work. Or, ultimately, decades of a career behind us.

But all that said: experience does not equal “expert”.

The designer we are is our final form when we close our minds with an inner monologue of “knowing it all” or branding ourselves a” #thoughtleader” on social media. The creator who we can be will never be there.