Category: Blog

When you begin to believe you have all figured out, everyone does change, in my experience. Simply as you start to get the hang of injections, diapers, and ordinary sleep, it’s time for solid foods, potty training, and nighttime sleep. When you figure those away, it’s time for some short breaks for nap and school. The cycle goes on and on.

The same holds true for those of us who are currently employed in design and development. Having worked on the web for about three years at this point, I’ve seen the typical wax and wane of concepts, strategies, and systems. Every day we as developers and designers re-enter a routine pattern, a brand-new concept or technology emerges to shake things up and completely alter our world.

How we got below

I built my first website in the mid-’90s. Design and development on the web back then was a free-for-all, with few established norms. For any layout aside from a single column, we used table elements, often with empty cells containing a single pixel spacer GIF to add empty space. We styled text with numerous font tags, nesting the tags every time we wanted to vary the font style. And we had only three or four typefaces to choose from: Arial, Courier, or Times New Roman. When Verdana and Georgia came out in 1996, we rejoiced because our options had nearly doubled. The only safe colors to choose from were the 216 “web safe” colors known to work across platforms. The few interactive elements (like contact forms, guest books, and counters) were mostly powered by CGI scripts (predominantly written in Perl at the time). Achieving any kind of unique look involved a pile of hacks all the way down. Interaction was often limited to specific pages in a site.

online requirements were born.

At the turn of the century, a new cycle started. Crufty code littered with table layouts and font tags waned, and a push for web standards waxed. Newer technologies like CSS got more widespread adoption by browsers makers, developers, and designers. This shift toward standards didn’t happen accidentally or overnight. It took active engagement between the W3C and browser vendors and heavy evangelism from folks like the Web Standards Project to build standards. A List Apart and books like Designing with Web Standards by Jeffrey Zeldman played key roles in teaching developers and designers why standards are important, how to implement them, and how to sell them to their organizations. And approaches like progressive enhancement introduced the idea that content should be available for all browsers—with additional enhancements available for more advanced browsers. Meanwhile, sites like the CSS Zen Garden showcased just how powerful and versatile CSS can be when combined with a solid semantic HTML structure.

Server-side language like PHP, Java, and.NET took Perl as the primary back-end computers, and the cgi-bin was tossed in the garbage bin. With these improved server-side software, the first period of internet programs started with content-management techniques (especially those used in blogs like Blogger, Grey Matter, Movable Type, and WordPress ) In the mid-2000s, AJAX opened doors for asynchronous interaction between the front end and back end. Pages now no longer needed to reload their pages ‘ content. A crop of JavaScript frameworks like Prototype, YUI, and jQuery arose to help developers build more reliable client-side interaction across browsers that had wildly varying levels of standards support. Techniques like image replacement enable skilled designers and developers to display fonts of their choosing. And technologies like Flash made it possible to add animations, games, and even more interactivity.

The industry was reenergized by these new tools, standards, and methods in many ways. Web design flourished as designers and developers explored more diverse styles and layouts. However, we still relied heavily on numerous hacks. Early CSS was a huge improvement over table-based layouts when it came to basic layout and text styling, but its limitations at the time meant that designers and developers still relied heavily on images for complex shapes ( such as rounded or angled corners ) and tiled backgrounds for the appearance of full-length columns (among other hacks ). All kinds of nested floats or absolute positioning ( or both ) were necessary for complicated layouts. Flash and image replacement for custom fonts was a great start toward varying the typefaces from the big five, but both hacks introduced accessibility and performance problems. And JavaScript libraries made it simple for anyone to add a dash of interaction to pages, even at the expense of double, even quadrupling, the download size of basic websites.

The web as software platform

The front-end and back-end symbiosis continued to improve, leading to the development of the modern web application. Between expanded server-side programming languages ( which kept growing to include Ruby, Python, Go, and others ) and newer front-end tools like React, Vue, and Angular, we could build fully capable software on the web. Along with these tools, there were additional options, such as shared package libraries, build automation, and collaborative version control. What was once primarily an environment for linked documents became a realm of infinite possibilities.

Mobile devices increased in their capabilities as well, and they gave us access to the internet while we were traveling. Mobile apps and responsive design opened up opportunities for new interactions anywhere and any time.

The development of social media and other centralized tools for people to connect and use resulted from this combination of potent mobile devices and potent development tools. As it became easier and more common to connect with others directly on Twitter, Facebook, and even Slack, the desire for hosted personal sites waned. Social media made connections on a global scale, with both positive and negative outcomes.

Want a much more extensive history of how we got here, with some other takes on ways that we can improve? ” Of Time and the Web” was written by Jeremy Keith. Or check out the” Web Design History Timeline” at the Web Design Museum. Additionally, Neal Agarwal takes a fascinating tour of” Internet Artifacts.”

Where we are now

It seems like we’ve been at a new significant inflection point over the past couple of years. As social-media platforms fracture and wane, there’s been a growing interest in owning our own content again. There are many different ways to create websites, from the tried-and-true classic of hosting plain HTML files to static site generators to content management systems of all kinds. The fracturing of social media also comes with a cost: we lose crucial infrastructure for discovery and connection. Webmentions, RSS, ActivityPub, and other IndieWeb tools can be useful in this regard, but they’re still largely underdeveloped and difficult to use for the less geeky. We can build amazing personal websites and add to them regularly, but without discovery and connection, it can sometimes feel like we may as well be shouting into the void.

Browser support for CSS, JavaScript, and other web components has increased, particularly with initiatives like Interop. New technologies gain support across the board in a fraction of the time that they used to. I frequently find out about a new feature and check its browser support only to discover that its coverage is already over 80 %. Nowadays, the barrier to using newer techniques often isn’t browser support but simply the limits of how quickly designers and developers can learn what’s available and how to adopt it.

We can prototype almost any idea today with just a few commands and a few lines of code. All the tools that we now have available make it easier than ever to start something new. However, as we upgrade and maintain these frameworks, we eventually pay the upfront costs that these frameworks may initially save in terms of our technical debt.

If we rely on third-party frameworks, adopting new standards can sometimes take longer since we may have to wait for those frameworks to adopt those standards. These frameworks, which previously made it easier to adopt new techniques sooner, have since evolved into obstacles. These same frameworks often come with performance costs too, forcing users to wait for scripts to load before they can read or interact with pages. And frequently, when scripts fail ( whether due to poor code, network problems, or other environmental factors ), users are left with blank or broken pages.

Where do we go from here?

Hacks of today help to shape standards for the future. And there’s nothing inherently wrong with embracing hacks —for now—to move the present forward. Problems only arise when we refuse to acknowledge that they are hacks or when we refuse to take their place. So what can we do to create the future we want for the web?

Build for the long haul. Optimize for performance, for accessibility, and for the user. weigh the price of those user-friendly tools. They may make your job a little easier today, but how do they affect everything else? What is the price to the users? To future developers? To adoption of standards? Sometimes the convenience may be worth it. It’s occasionally just a hack that you’ve gotten used to. And sometimes it’s holding you back from even better options.

Start with standards. Standards continue to evolve over time, but browsers have done a remarkably good job of continuing to support older standards. The same holds true for third-party frameworks, though. Sites built with even the hackiest of HTML from the’ 90s still work just fine today. Even after a few years, the same can’t be said about websites created with frameworks.

Design with care. Consider the effects of each choice, whether your craft is code, pixels, or processes. The convenience of many a modern tool comes at the cost of not always understanding the underlying decisions that have led to its design and not always considering the impact that those decisions can have. Use the time saved by modern tools to think more carefully and make decisions with care rather than rushing to “move fast and break things.”

Always be learning. If you constantly learn, you also develop. Sometimes it may be hard to pinpoint what’s worth learning and what’s just today’s hack. Even if you were to concentrate solely on learning standards, you might end up focusing on something that won’t matter next year. ( Remember XHTML? ) However, ongoing learning opens up new neural connections in your brain, and the techniques you learn in one day may be used to inform different experiments in the future.

Play, experiment, and be weird! The ultimate experiment is this web that we’ve created. It’s the single largest human endeavor in history, and yet each of us can create our own pocket within it. Be brave and try something new. Build a playground for ideas. In your own bizarre science lab, perform bizarre experiments. Start your own small business. There has never been a place where we have more room to be creative, take risks, and discover our potential.

Share and amplify. As you play, experiment, and learn, share what has worked for you. Write on your own website, post on whichever social media site you prefer, or shout it from a TikTok. Write something for A List Apart! But take the time to amplify others too: find new voices, learn from them, and share what they’ve taught you.

Make a move and make it happen.

As designers and developers for the web ( and beyond ), we’re responsible for building the future every day, whether that may take the shape of personal websites, social media tools used by billions, or anything in between. Let’s incorporate our values into the products we produce, and let’s improve the world for everyone. Create that thing that only you are uniquely qualified to make. Then distribute it, improve it, re-use it, or create something new with it. Learn. Make. Share. Grow. Rinse and repeat. Everything will change whenever you believe you have mastered the web.

In studying Joe Dolson’s new item on the intersection of AI and affordability, I positively appreciated the suspicion that he has for AI in public as well as for the ways that many have been using it. In fact, I’m very skeptical of AI myself, despite my role at Microsoft as an accessibility technology strategist who helps manage the AI for Accessibility award program. As with any tool, AI can be used in quite productive, equitable, and visible ways, and it can also be used in dangerous, unique, and dangerous ones. And there are a ton of combines somewhere in the poor center as effectively.

I’d like you to consider this a “yes … and” piece to complement Joe’s post. I’m not trying to reject any of what he’s saying but instead provide some awareness to jobs and opportunities where AI can generate substantial differences for people with disabilities. To be clear, I’m not saying that there aren’t real risks or pressing issues with AI that need to be addressed—there are, and we’ve needed to address them, like, yesterday—but I want to take a little time to talk about what’s possible in hopes that we’ll get there one day.

Alternative text

Joe’s piece spends a lot of time talking about computer-vision models generating alternative text. He highlights a ton of valid issues with the current state of things. And while computer-vision models continue to improve in the quality and richness of detail in their descriptions, their results aren’t great. As he rightly points out, the current state of image analysis is pretty poor—especially for certain image types—in large part because current AI systems examine images in isolation rather than within the contexts that they’re in ( which is a consequence of having separate “foundation” models for text analysis and image analysis ). Today’s models aren’t trained to distinguish between images that are contextually relevant ( that should probably have descriptions ) and those that are purely decorative ( which might not need a description ) either. Still, I still think there’s potential in this space.

As Joe mentions, human-in-the-loop authoring of alt text should absolutely be a thing. And if AI can pop in to offer a starting point for alt text—even if that starting point might be a prompt saying What is this BS? That’s not right at all … Let me try to offer a starting point— I think that’s a win.

Taking things a step further, if we can specifically train a model to analyze image usage in context, it could help us more quickly identify which images are likely to be decorative and which ones likely require a description. That will help reinforce which contexts call for image descriptions and it’ll improve authors ‘ efficiency toward making their pages more accessible.

While complex images—like graphs and charts—are challenging to describe in any sort of succinct way ( even for humans ), the image example shared in the GPT4 announcement points to an interesting opportunity as well. Let’s suppose that you came across a chart whose description was simply the title of the chart and the kind of visualization it was, such as: Pie chart comparing smartphone usage to feature phone usage among US households making under$ 30, 000 a year. ( That would be a pretty awful alt text for a chart since that would tend to leave many questions about the data unanswered, but then again, let’s suppose that that was the description that was in place. ) If your browser knew that that image was a pie chart ( because an onboard model concluded this ), imagine a world where users could ask questions like these about the graphic:

• Do more people use smartphones or feature phones?
• How many more?
• Is there a group of people that don’t fall into either of these buckets?
• How many is that?

Setting aside the realities of large language model ( LLM) hallucinations—where a model just makes up plausible-sounding “facts” —for a moment, the opportunity to learn more about images and data in this way could be revolutionary for blind and low-vision folks as well as for people with various forms of color blindness, cognitive disabilities, and so on. It could also be useful in educational contexts to help people who can see these charts, as is, to understand the data in the charts.

Taking things a step further: What if you could ask your browser to simplify a complex chart? What if you could ask it to isolate a single line on a line graph? What if you could ask your browser to transpose the colors of the different lines to work better for form of color blindness you have? What if you could ask it to swap colors for patterns? Given these tools ‘ chat-based interfaces and our existing ability to manipulate images in today’s AI tools, that seems like a possibility.

Now imagine a purpose-built model that could extract the information from that chart and convert it to another format. For example, perhaps it could turn that pie chart ( or better yet, a series of pie charts ) into more accessible ( and useful ) formats, like spreadsheets. That would be amazing!

Matching algorithms

Safiya Umoja Noble absolutely hit the nail on the head when she titled her book Algorithms of Oppression. While her book was focused on the ways that search engines reinforce racism, I think that it’s equally true that all computer models have the potential to amplify conflict, bias, and intolerance. Whether it’s Twitter always showing you the latest tweet from a bored billionaire, YouTube sending us into a Q-hole, or Instagram warping our ideas of what natural bodies look like, we know that poorly authored and maintained algorithms are incredibly harmful. A lot of this stems from a lack of diversity among the people who shape and build them. When these platforms are built with inclusively baked in, however, there’s real potential for algorithm development to help people with disabilities.

Take Mentra, for example. They are an employment network for neurodivergent people. They use an algorithm to match job seekers with potential employers based on over 75 data points. On the job-seeker side of things, it considers each candidate’s strengths, their necessary and preferred workplace accommodations, environmental sensitivities, and so on. On the employer side, it considers each work environment, communication factors related to each job, and the like. As a company run by neurodivergent folks, Mentra made the decision to flip the script when it came to typical employment sites. They use their algorithm to propose available candidates to companies, who can then connect with job seekers that they are interested in, reducing the emotional and physical labor on the job-seeker side of things.

When more people with disabilities are involved in the creation of algorithms, that can reduce the chances that these algorithms will inflict harm on their communities. That’s why diverse teams are so important.

Imagine that a social media company’s recommendation engine was tuned to analyze who you’re following and if it was tuned to prioritize follow recommendations for people who talked about similar things but who were different in some key ways from your existing sphere of influence. For example, if you were to follow a bunch of nondisabled white male academics who talk about AI, it could suggest that you follow academics who are disabled or aren’t white or aren’t male who also talk about AI. If you took its recommendations, perhaps you’d get a more holistic and nuanced understanding of what’s happening in the AI field. These same systems should also use their understanding of biases about particular communities—including, for instance, the disability community—to make sure that they aren’t recommending any of their users follow accounts that perpetuate biases against (or, worse, spewing hate toward ) those groups.

Other ways that AI can helps people with disabilities

If I weren’t trying to put this together between other tasks, I’m sure that I could go on and on, providing all kinds of examples of how AI could be used to help people with disabilities, but I’m going to make this last section into a bit of a lightning round. In no particular order:

Voice preservation. You may have seen the VALL-E paper or Apple’s Global Accessibility Awareness Day announcement or you may be familiar with the voice-preservation offerings from Microsoft, Acapela, or others. It’s possible to train an AI model to replicate your voice, which can be a tremendous boon for people who have ALS ( Lou Gehrig’s disease ) or motor-neuron disease or other medical conditions that can lead to an inability to talk. This is, of course, the same tech that can also be used to create audio deepfakes, so it’s something that we need to approach responsibly, but the tech has truly transformative potential.
• Voice recognition. Researchers like those in the Speech Accessibility Project are paying people with disabilities for their help in collecting recordings of people with atypical speech. As I type, they are actively recruiting people with Parkinson’s and related conditions, and they have plans to expand this to other conditions as the project progresses. This research will result in more inclusive data sets that will let more people with disabilities use voice assistants, dictation software, and voice-response services as well as control their computers and other devices more easily, using only their voice.
• Text transformation. The current generation of LLMs is quite capable of adjusting existing text content without injecting hallucinations. This is hugely empowering for people with cognitive disabilities who may benefit from text summaries or simplified versions of text or even text that’s prepped for Bionic Reading.

The importance of diverse teams and data

We need to recognize that our differences matter. Our lived experiences are influenced by the intersections of the identities that we exist in. These lived experiences—with all their complexities ( and joys and pain ) —are valuable inputs to the software, services, and societies that we shape. Our differences need to be represented in the data that we use to train new models, and the folks who contribute that valuable information need to be compensated for sharing it with us. Inclusive data sets yield more robust models that foster more equitable outcomes.

Want a model that doesn’t demean or patronize or objectify people with disabilities? Make sure that you have content about disabilities that’s authored by people with a range of disabilities, and make sure that that’s well represented in the training data.

Want a model that doesn’t use ableist language? You may be able to use existing data sets to build a filter that can intercept and remediate ableist language before it reaches readers. That being said, when it comes to sensitivity reading, AI models won’t be replacing human copy editors anytime soon.

Want a coding copilot that gives you accessible recommendations from the jump? Train it on code that you know to be accessible.

---

I have no doubt that AI can and will harm people … today, tomorrow, and well into the future. But I also believe that we can acknowledge that and, with an eye towards accessibility ( and, more broadly, inclusion ), make thoughtful, considerate, and intentional changes in our approaches to AI that will reduce harm over time as well. Today, tomorrow, and well into the future.

---

Many thanks to Kartik Sawhney for helping me with the development of this piece, Ashley Bischoff for her invaluable editorial assistance, and, of course, Joe Dolson for the prompt.

I am a creative. What I do is alchemy. It is a mystery. I do not so much do it, as let it be done through me.

I am a creative. Not all creative people like this label. Not all see themselves this way. Some creative people see science in what they do. That is their truth, and I respect it. Maybe I even envy them, a little. But my process is different—my being is different.

Apologizing and qualifying in advance is a distraction. That’s what my brain does to sabotage me. I set it aside for now. I can come back later to apologize and qualify. After I’ve said what I came to say. Which is hard enough. 

Except when it is easy and flows like a river of wine.

Sometimes it does come that way. Sometimes what I need to create comes in an instant. I have learned not to say it at that moment, because if you admit that sometimes the idea just comes and it is the best idea and you know it is the best idea, they think you don’t work hard enough.

Sometimes I work and work and work until the idea comes. Sometimes it comes instantly and I don’t tell anyone for three days. Sometimes I’m so excited by the idea that came instantly that I blurt it out, can’t help myself. Like a boy who found a prize in his Cracker Jacks. Sometimes I get away with this. Sometimes other people agree: yes, that is the best idea. Most times they don’t and I regret having  given way to enthusiasm. 

Enthusiasm is best saved for the meeting where it will make a difference. Not the casual get-together that precedes that meeting by two other meetings. Nobody knows why we have all these meetings. We keep saying we’re doing away with them, but then just finding other ways to have them. Sometimes they are even good. But other times they are a distraction from the actual work. The proportion between when meetings are useful, and when they are a pitiful distraction, varies, depending on what you do and where you do it. And who you are and how you do it. Again I digress. I am a creative. That is the theme.

Sometimes many hours of hard and patient work produce something that is barely serviceable. Sometimes I have to accept that and move on to the next project.

Don’t ask about process. I am a creative.

I am a creative. I don’t control my dreams. And I don’t control my best ideas.

I can hammer away, surround myself with facts or images, and sometimes that works. I can go for a walk, and sometimes that works. I can be making dinner and there’s a Eureka having nothing to do with sizzling oil and bubbling pots. Often I know what to do the instant I wake up. And then, almost as often, as I become conscious and part of the world again, the idea that would have saved me turns to vanishing dust in a mindless wind of oblivion. For creativity, I believe, comes from that other world. The one we enter in dreams, and perhaps, before birth and after death. But that’s for poets to wonder, and I am not a poet. I am a creative. And it’s for theologians to mass armies about in their creative world that they insist is real. But that is another digression. And a depressing one. Maybe on a much more important topic than whether I am a creative or not. But still a digression from what I came here to say.

Sometimes the process is avoidance. And agony. You know the cliché about the tortured artist? It’s true, even when the artist (and let’s put that noun in quotes) is trying to write a soft drink jingle, a callback in a tired sitcom, a budget request.

Some people who hate being called creative may be closeted creatives, but that’s between them and their gods. No offense meant. Your truth is true, too. But mine is for me. 

Creatives recognize creatives.

Creatives recognize creatives like queers recognize queers, like real rappers recognize real rappers, like cons know cons. Creatives feel massive respect for creatives. We love, honor, emulate, and practically deify the great ones. To deify any human is, of course, a tragic mistake. We have been warned. We know better. We know people are just people. They squabble, they are lonely, they regret their most important decisions, they are poor and hungry, they can be cruel, they can be just as stupid as we can, because, like us, they are clay. But. But. But they make this amazing thing. They birth something that did not exist before them, and could not exist without them. They are the mothers of ideas. And I suppose, since it’s just lying there, I have to add that they are the mothers of invention. Ba dum bum! OK, that’s done. Continue.

Creatives belittle our own small achievements, because we compare them to those of the great ones. Beautiful animation! Well, I’m no Miyazaki. Now THAT is greatness. That is greatness straight from the mind of God. This half-starved little thing that I made? It more or less fell off the back of the turnip truck. And the turnips weren’t even fresh.

Creatives knows that, at best, they are Salieri. Even the creatives who are Mozart believe that. 

I am a creative. I haven’t worked in advertising in 30 years, but in my nightmares, it’s my former creative directors who judge me. And they are right to do so. I am too lazy, too facile, and when it really counts, my mind goes blank. There is no pill for creative dysfunction.

I am a creative. Every deadline I make is an adventure that makes Indiana Jones look like a pensioner snoring in a deck chair. The longer I remain a creative, the faster I am when I do my work and the longer I brood and walk in circles and stare blankly before I do that work. 

I am still 10 times faster than people who are not creative, or people who have only been creative a short while, or people who have only been professionally creative a short while. It’s just that, before I work 10 times as fast as they do, I spend twice as long as they do putting the work off. I am that confident in my ability to do a great job when I put my mind to it. I am that addicted to the adrenaline rush of postponement. I am still that afraid of the jump.

I am not an artist.

I am a creative. Not an artist. Though I dreamed, as a lad, of someday being that. Some of us belittle our gifts and dislike ourselves because we are not Michelangelos and Warhols. That is narcissism—but at least we aren’t in politics.

I am a creative. Though I believe in reason and science, I decide by intuition and impulse. And live with what follows—the catastrophes as well as the triumphs. 

I am a creative. Every word I’ve said here will annoy other creatives, who see things differently. Ask two creatives a question, get three opinions. Our disagreement, our passion about it, and our commitment to our own truth are, at least to me, the proofs that we are creatives, no matter how we may feel about it.

I am a creative. I lament my lack of taste in the areas about which I know very little, which is to say almost all areas of human knowledge. And I trust my taste above all other things in the areas closest to my heart, or perhaps, more accurately, to my obsessions. Without my obsessions, I would probably have to spend my time looking life in the eye, and almost none of us can do that for long. Not honestly. Not really. Because much in life, if you really look at it, is unbearable.

I am a creative. I believe, as a parent believes, that when I am gone, some small good part of me will carry on in the mind of at least one other person.

Working saves me from worrying about work.

I am a creative. I live in dread of my small gift suddenly going away.

I am a creative. I am too busy making the next thing to spend too much time deeply considering that almost nothing I make will come anywhere near the greatness I comically aspire to.

I am a creative. I believe in the ultimate mystery of process. I believe in it so much, I am even fool enough to publish an essay I dictated into a tiny machine and didn’t take time to review or revise. I won’t do this often, I promise. But I did it just now, because, as afraid as I might be of your seeing through my pitiful gestures toward the beautiful, I was even more afraid of forgetting what I came to say. 

There. I think I’ve said it. 

Humility, a designer’s essential value—that has a nice ring to it. What about humility, an office manager’s essential value? Or a dentist’s? Or a librarian’s? They all sound great. When humility is our guiding light, the path is always open for fulfillment, evolution, connection, and engagement. In this chapter, we’re going to talk about why.

That said, this is a book for designers, and to that end, I’d like to start with a story—well, a journey, really. It’s a personal one, and I’m going to make myself a bit vulnerable along the way. I call it:

The Tale of Justin’s Preposterous Pate

When I was coming out of art school, a long-haired, goateed neophyte, print was a known quantity to me; design on the web, however, was rife with complexities to navigate and discover, a problem to be solved. Though I had been formally trained in graphic design, typography, and layout, what fascinated me was how these traditional skills might be applied to a fledgling digital landscape. This theme would ultimately shape the rest of my career.

So rather than graduate and go into print like many of my friends, I devoured HTML and JavaScript books into the wee hours of the morning and taught myself how to code during my senior year. I wanted—nay, needed—to better understand the underlying implications of what my design decisions would mean once rendered in a browser.

The late ’90s and early 2000s were the so-called “Wild West” of web design. Designers at the time were all figuring out how to apply design and visual communication to the digital landscape. What were the rules? How could we break them and still engage, entertain, and convey information? At a more macro level, how could my values, inclusive of humility, respect, and connection, align in tandem with that? I was hungry to find out.

Though I’m talking about a different era, those are timeless considerations between non-career interactions and the world of design. What are your core passions, or values, that transcend medium? It’s essentially the same concept we discussed earlier on the direct parallels between what fulfills you, agnostic of the tangible or digital realms; the core themes are all the same.

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. I collaborated with fellow designer and dear friend Marc Clancy (now a co-founder of the creative project organizing app Milanote) on this one, where we’d first sketch and then pass a Photoshop file back and forth to trick things out and play with varied user interactions. 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 offered many of the custom downloads I cited before as present on my folio site but branded and themed to GUI Galaxy.

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 designing something bigger than any single one of us and connecting with a global audience.

Collaboration and connection transcend medium in their impact, immensely fulfilling me as a designer.

Now, why am I taking you down this trip of 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. I suspect there’s a strong chance you’ve seen a site whose structure looks something like this: a hero image / banner with text overlaid, perhaps with a lovely rotating carousel of images (laying the snark on heavy there), a call to action, and three columns of sub-content directly beneath. Maybe an icon library is employed with selections that vaguely relate to their respective content.

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 responsive presentation that meets human beings wherever they’re engaging from. 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 during this period were often designed and built on Macs whose OS and desktops 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. To me, this was the embodiment of digital visual communication under such ridiculous constraints. And often, ridiculous restrictions can yield the purification of concept and theme.

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. Those ridiculous constraints forced a clarity of concept and presentation that I found incredibly appealing. The digital gauntlet had been tossed, and that challenge fueled me. 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, utilizing the only tool available at the time to create icons called ResEdit. ResEdit was a clunky, built-in Mac OS utility not really made for exactly 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.

There’s one more design portal I want to talk about, which also serves as the second reason for my story to bring this all together.

This is K10k, short for Kaliber 1000. K10k was founded in 1998 by Michael Schmidt and Toke Nygaard, and was the design news portal on the web during this period. 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. With respect where respect is due, GUI Galaxy’s concept was inspired by what these folks were doing.

For my part, the combination of my web design work and pixel art exploration began to get me some notoriety in the design scene. Eventually, K10k noticed and added me as one of their very select group of news authors to contribute content to the site.

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 also began to be published in various printed collections, in magazines domestically and overseas, and featured on other design news portals. 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 press and the praise became what fulfilled me, and they went straight to my head. They inflated my ego. I actually felt somewhat superior to my fellow designers.

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

I felt so supremely confident in my abilities that I effectively stopped researching and discovering. When previously sketching concepts or iterating ideas in lead was my automatic step one, I instead leaped right into Photoshop. I drew my inspiration from the smallest of sources (and with blinders on). Any critique of my work from my peers was often vehemently dismissed. The most tragic loss: I had lost touch with my values.

My ego almost cost me some of my friendships and burgeoning professional relationships. 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.

Admittedly, it was a gift I initially did not accept but ultimately was able to deeply reflect upon. 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 adulation and re-centered upon what stoked the fire for me in art school. 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 could self-reflect as I got older to facilitate further growth and course correction as needed.

As an example, let’s talk about the Large Hadron Collider. The LHC was designed “to help answer some of the fundamental open questions in physics, which concern the basic laws governing the interactions and forces among the elementary objects, the deep structure of space and time, and in particular the interrelation between quantum mechanics and general relativity.” Thanks, Wikipedia.

Around fifteen years ago, in one of my earlier professional roles, I designed the interface for the application that generated the LHC’s particle collision diagrams. These diagrams are the rendering of what’s actually happening inside the Collider during any given particle collision event and are often considered works of art unto themselves.

Designing the interface for this application was a fascinating process for me, in that I worked with Fermilab physicists to understand what the application was trying to achieve, but also how the physicists themselves would be using it. To that end, in this role,

I cut my teeth on usability testing, working with the Fermilab team to iterate and improve the interface. How they spoke and what they spoke about was like an alien language to me. And by making myself humble and working under the mindset that I was but a student, I made myself available to be a part of their world to generate that vital connection.

I also had my first ethnographic observation experience: going to the Fermilab location and observing how the physicists used the tool in their actual environment, on their actual terminals. For example, one takeaway was that due to the level of ambient light-driven contrast within the facility, the data columns ended up using white text on a dark gray background instead of black text-on-white. This enabled them to pore over reams of data during the day and ease their eye strain. And Fermilab and CERN are government entities with rigorous accessibility standards, so my knowledge in that realm also grew. 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. What opened the door for those values was me checking my ego before I walked through it.

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 always students of our craft, we are also continually making ourselves available to evolve. Yes, we have years of applicable design study under our belt. Or the focused lab sessions from a UX bootcamp. Or the monogrammed portfolio of our work. Or, ultimately, decades of a career behind us.

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

As soon as we close our minds via an inner monologue of ‘knowing it all’ or branding ourselves a “#thoughtleader” on social media, the designer we are is our final form. The designer we can be will never exist.

Ever since I was a boy, I’ve been fascinated with movies. I loved the characters and the excitement—but most of all the stories. I wanted to be an actor. And I believed that I’d get to do the things that Indiana Jones did and go on exciting adventures. I even dreamed up ideas for movies that my friends and I could make and star in. But they never went any further. I did, however, end up working in user experience (UX). Now, I realize that there’s an element of theater to UX—I hadn’t really considered it before, but user research is storytelling. And to get the most out of user research, you need to tell a good story where you bring stakeholders—the product team and decision makers—along and get them interested in learning more.

Think of your favorite movie. More than likely it follows a three-act structure that’s commonly seen in storytelling: the setup, the conflict, and the resolution. The first act shows what exists today, and it helps you get to know the characters and the challenges and problems that they face. Act two introduces the conflict, where the action is. Here, problems grow or get worse. And the third and final act is the resolution. This is where the issues are resolved and the characters learn and change. I believe that this structure is also a great way to think about user research, and I think that it can be especially helpful in explaining user research to others.

Use storytelling as a structure to do research

It’s sad to say, but many have come to see research as being expendable. If budgets or timelines are tight, research tends to be one of the first things to go. Instead of investing in research, some product managers rely on designers or—worse—their own opinion to make the “right” choices for users based on their experience or accepted best practices. That may get teams some of the way, but that approach can so easily miss out on solving users’ real problems. To remain user-centered, this is something we should avoid. User research elevates design. It keeps it on track, pointing to problems and opportunities. Being aware of the issues with your product and reacting to them can help you stay ahead of your competitors.

In the three-act structure, each act corresponds to a part of the process, and each part is critical to telling the whole story. Let’s look at the different acts and how they align with user research.

Act one: setup

The setup is all about understanding the background, and that’s where foundational research comes in. Foundational research (also called generative, discovery, or initial research) helps you understand users and identify their problems. You’re learning about what exists today, the challenges users have, and how the challenges affect them—just like in the movies. To do foundational research, you can conduct contextual inquiries or diary studies (or both!), which can help you start to identify problems as well as opportunities. It doesn’t need to be a huge investment in time or money.

Erika Hall writes about minimum viable ethnography, which can be as simple as spending 15 minutes with a user and asking them one thing: “‘Walk me through your day yesterday.’ That’s it. Present that one request. Shut up and listen to them for 15 minutes. Do your damndest to keep yourself and your interests out of it. Bam, you’re doing ethnography.” According to Hall, “[This] will probably prove quite illuminating. In the highly unlikely case that you didn’t learn anything new or useful, carry on with enhanced confidence in your direction.”  

This makes total sense to me. And I love that this makes user research so accessible. You don’t need to prepare a lot of documentation; you can just recruit participants and do it! This can yield a wealth of information about your users, and it’ll help you better understand them and what’s going on in their lives. That’s really what act one is all about: understanding where users are coming from. 

Jared Spool talks about the importance of foundational research and how it should form the bulk of your research. If you can draw from any additional user data that you can get your hands on, such as surveys or analytics, that can supplement what you’ve heard in the foundational studies or even point to areas that need further investigation. Together, all this data paints a clearer picture of the state of things and all its shortcomings. And that’s the beginning of a compelling story. It’s the point in the plot where you realize that the main characters—or the users in this case—are facing challenges that they need to overcome. Like in the movies, this is where you start to build empathy for the characters and root for them to succeed. And hopefully stakeholders are now doing the same. Their sympathy may be with their business, which could be losing money because users can’t complete certain tasks. Or maybe they do empathize with users’ struggles. Either way, act one is your initial hook to get the stakeholders interested and invested.

Once stakeholders begin to understand the value of foundational research, that can open doors to more opportunities that involve users in the decision-making process. And that can guide product teams toward being more user-centered. This benefits everyone—users, the product, and stakeholders. It’s like winning an Oscar in movie terms—it often leads to your product being well received and successful. And this can be an incentive for stakeholders to repeat this process with other products. Storytelling is the key to this process, and knowing how to tell a good story is the only way to get stakeholders to really care about doing more research. 

This brings us to act two, where you iteratively evaluate a design or concept to see whether it addresses the issues.

Act two: conflict

Act two is all about digging deeper into the problems that you identified in act one. This usually involves directional research, such as usability tests, where you assess a potential solution (such as a design) to see whether it addresses the issues that you found. The issues could include unmet needs or problems with a flow or process that’s tripping users up. Like act two in a movie, more issues will crop up along the way. It’s here that you learn more about the characters as they grow and develop through this act. 

Usability tests should typically include around five participants according to Jakob Nielsen, who found that that number of users can usually identify most of the problems: “As you add more and more users, you learn less and less because you will keep seeing the same things again and again… After the fifth user, you are wasting your time by observing the same findings repeatedly but not learning much new.” 

There are parallels with storytelling here too; if you try to tell a story with too many characters, the plot may get lost. Having fewer participants means that each user’s struggles will be more memorable and easier to relay to other stakeholders when talking about the research. This can help convey the issues that need to be addressed while also highlighting the value of doing the research in the first place.

Researchers have run usability tests in person for decades, but you can also conduct usability tests remotely using tools like Microsoft Teams, Zoom, or other teleconferencing software. This approach has become increasingly popular since the beginning of the pandemic, and it works well. You can think of in-person usability tests like going to a play and remote sessions as more like watching a movie. There are advantages and disadvantages to each. In-person usability research is a much richer experience. Stakeholders can experience the sessions with other stakeholders. You also get real-time reactions—including surprise, agreement, disagreement, and discussions about what they’re seeing. Much like going to a play, where audiences get to take in the stage, the costumes, the lighting, and the actors’ interactions, in-person research lets you see users up close, including their body language, how they interact with the moderator, and how the scene is set up.

If in-person usability testing is like watching a play—staged and controlled—then conducting usability testing in the field is like immersive theater where any two sessions might be very different from one another. You can take usability testing into the field by creating a replica of the space where users interact with the product and then conduct your research there. Or you can go out to meet users at their location to do your research. With either option, you get to see how things work in context, things come up that wouldn’t have in a lab environment—and conversion can shift in entirely different directions. As researchers, you have less control over how these sessions go, but this can sometimes help you understand users even better. Meeting users where they are can provide clues to the external forces that could be affecting how they use your product. In-person usability tests provide another level of detail that’s often missing from remote usability tests. 

That’s not to say that the “movies”—remote sessions—aren’t a good option. Remote sessions can reach a wider audience. They allow a lot more stakeholders to be involved in the research and to see what’s going on. And they open the doors to a much wider geographical pool of users. But with any remote session there is the potential of time wasted if participants can’t log in or get their microphone working. 

The benefit of usability testing, whether remote or in person, is that you get to see real users interact with the designs in real time, and you can ask them questions to understand their thought processes and grasp of the solution. This can help you not only identify problems but also glean why they’re problems in the first place. Furthermore, you can test hypotheses and gauge whether your thinking is correct. By the end of the sessions, you’ll have a much clearer picture of how usable the designs are and whether they work for their intended purposes. Act two is the heart of the story—where the excitement is—but there can be surprises too. This is equally true of usability tests. Often, participants will say unexpected things, which change the way that you look at things—and these twists in the story can move things in new directions. 

Unfortunately, user research is sometimes seen as expendable. And too often usability testing is the only research process that some stakeholders think that they ever need. In fact, if the designs that you’re evaluating in the usability test aren’t grounded in a solid understanding of your users (foundational research), there’s not much to be gained by doing usability testing in the first place. That’s because you’re narrowing the focus of what you’re getting feedback on, without understanding the users’ needs. As a result, there’s no way of knowing whether the designs might solve a problem that users have. It’s only feedback on a particular design in the context of a usability test.  

On the other hand, if you only do foundational research, while you might have set out to solve the right problem, you won’t know whether the thing that you’re building will actually solve that. This illustrates the importance of doing both foundational and directional research. 

In act two, stakeholders will—hopefully—get to watch the story unfold in the user sessions, which creates the conflict and tension in the current design by surfacing their highs and lows. And in turn, this can help motivate stakeholders to address the issues that come up.

Act three: resolution

While the first two acts are about understanding the background and the tensions that can propel stakeholders into action, the third part is about resolving the problems from the first two acts. While it’s important to have an audience for the first two acts, it’s crucial that they stick around for the final act. That means the whole product team, including developers, UX practitioners, business analysts, delivery managers, product managers, and any other stakeholders that have a say in the next steps. It allows the whole team to hear users’ feedback together, ask questions, and discuss what’s possible within the project’s constraints. And it lets the UX research and design teams clarify, suggest alternatives, or give more context behind their decisions. So you can get everyone on the same page and get agreement on the way forward.

This act is mostly told in voiceover with some audience participation. The researcher is the narrator, who paints a picture of the issues and what the future of the product could look like given the things that the team has learned. They give the stakeholders their recommendations and their guidance on creating this vision.

Nancy Duarte in the Harvard Business Review offers an approach to structuring presentations that follow a persuasive story. “The most effective presenters use the same techniques as great storytellers: By reminding people of the status quo and then revealing the path to a better way, they set up a conflict that needs to be resolved,” writes Duarte. “That tension helps them persuade the audience to adopt a new mindset or behave differently.”

This type of structure aligns well with research results, and particularly results from usability tests. It provides evidence for “what is”—the problems that you’ve identified. And “what could be”—your recommendations on how to address them. And so on and so forth.

You can reinforce your recommendations with examples of things that competitors are doing that could address these issues or with examples where competitors are gaining an edge. Or they can be visual, like quick mockups of how a new design could look that solves a problem. These can help generate conversation and momentum. And this continues until the end of the session when you’ve wrapped everything up in the conclusion by summarizing the main issues and suggesting a way forward. This is the part where you reiterate the main themes or problems and what they mean for the product—the denouement of the story. This stage gives stakeholders the next steps and hopefully the momentum to take those steps!

While we are nearly at the end of this story, let’s reflect on the idea that user research is storytelling. All the elements of a good story are there in the three-act structure of user research: 

• Act one: You meet the protagonists (the users) and the antagonists (the problems affecting users). This is the beginning of the plot. In act one, researchers might use methods including contextual inquiry, ethnography, diary studies, surveys, and analytics. The output of these methods can include personas, empathy maps, user journeys, and analytics dashboards.

• Act two: Next, there’s character development. There’s conflict and tension as the protagonists encounter problems and challenges, which they must overcome. In act two, researchers might use methods including usability testing, competitive benchmarking, and heuristics evaluation. The output of these can include usability findings reports, UX strategy documents, usability guidelines, and best practices.

• Act three: The protagonists triumph and you see what a better future looks like. In act three, researchers may use methods including presentation decks, storytelling, and digital media. The output of these can be: presentation decks, video clips, audio clips, and pictures. 

The researcher has multiple roles: they’re the storyteller, the director, and the producer. The participants have a small role, but they are significant characters (in the research). And the stakeholders are the audience. But the most important thing is to get the story right and to use storytelling to tell users’ stories through research. By the end, the stakeholders should walk away with a purpose and an eagerness to resolve the product’s ills. 

So the next time that you’re planning research with clients or you’re speaking to stakeholders about research that you’ve done, think about how you can weave in some storytelling. Ultimately, user research is a win-win for everyone, and you just need to get stakeholders interested in how the story ends.

This article contains spoilers for Peacemaker season 2 episode 1. How is he going to deal with the Justice League? That question is usually reserved for Lex Luthor or Braniac, big baddies in the DC Universe. But as we head into the second season of Peacemaker, that question has increasingly been directed at James Gunn. […]

The post Peacemaker Season 2 Fixes the DCU Canon Before the Opening Credits Roll appeared first on Den of Geek.

In a March 2025 interview with Howard Stern to promote his Apple TV+ comedy The Studio, Seth Rogen described what drives his character Matt Remick, head of fictional Hollywood studio Continental.

“What’s so frustrating about Hollywood, and what’s so alluring about these delusions of grandeur – especially if you run a movie studio – is that you think you might be the person to course correct all of Hollywood,” he said. “Singular people have done that. But if you were someone who was willing to buy into the delusions of grandeur of all of it, you could view yourself as the person who single-handedly saves Hollywood.”

Spoiler alert: Matt Remick doesn’t save Hollywood. Funnily enough though, Rogen may have helped to save television this year all the same. That’s because Rogen and company’s delightful 10-episode series is just one of many 2025 cable and streaming efforts that understood the assignment.

From Apple TV+’s Severance to HBO Max’s The Pitt to FX’s Alien: Earth and beyond, this year has been filled with projects that have respect for TV as an episodic medium. And while the weekly release format remains more of a novelty than a fact of life in the streaming world, many properties are increasingly putting it to good use or at least finding a creative way of working within it like Andor season 2’s three-episode-per-week model.

Through it all there was plenty of serialized and episodic joy to be found on television in 2025. Here are some of our favorites so far.

Adolescence

Extended single-take shots or “oners” are all the rage on television nowadays. So much so that another 2025 show (that you’ll be reading about on this list soon enough) built an entire episode, fittingly called “The Oner,” out of the technique. With so many talented filmmakers and performers getting in on the action, the standards for what makes an effective oner have been raised. It can’t just all be about logistical mastery – the lack of interruption within a scene has to play emotionally as well. Enter Adolescence.

Created by Jack Thorne and Stephen Graham, this four-episode Netflix series represents the most effective and affecting use of single take storytelling in some time. At the beginning of one unassuming day in an unspecified northern English town, police arrive at the doorstep of the Miller family to deliver unthinkable news: 13-year-old son Jamie (an astonishing Owen Cooper) is wanted for the murder of his classmate Katie. What follows are four excruciating installments examining a family and community’s pain, all without the relief of a single cut.

Alien: Earth

“There is surprisingly little mythology in the Alien film universe,” Alien: Earth showrunner Noah Hawley observed in an interview with Den of Geek. “All we really know is that there’s this company called Weyland-Yutani, and it has a knack for putting its employees in terrible danger.” Hawley is right. Much of the appeal of Ridley Scott’s 1979 sci-fi classic comes down to the simplicity of letting an apex predator loose in a confined space amid a vacuum where no one can hear your scream. How can such a cinematic, elemental concept stand up to the episodic rigors of television? Pretty well it turns out!

Thanks to Hawley’s vision, a capable cast, and FX’s newfound Disney money, Alien: Earth presents some of the most compelling worldbuilding from an Alien story yet. Set just two years before Scott’s film, Earth imagines its title location as a playground for five megacorporations looking to achieve immortality. Young trillionaire Boy Kavalier (Samuel Blenkin) and his Prodigy Corporation believe they’ve reached that goal with the creation of powerful, child-brained hybrids, led by the indestructible Wendy (Sydney Chandler). Those ideas combined with some genuinely thrilling and bloody action have made for a heady, enjoyable sci-fi experience.

Andor

The success of Disney+’s Andor can be observed by its frequent use as a measuring stick. Across the entertainment landscape, any studio introducing a fresh new take on an existing IP plainly states that it’s intended to be the “Andor of [INSERT-FRANCHISE-HERE].” Marvel’s Secret Invasion was teased as the Andor of the MCU (and hooboy, that was a swing and a miss). More successfully, the aforementioned Alien: Earth has been pitched as the Alien’s Andor. Truthfully, however, there’s only one Andor and the show’s second and final season proved why.

Andor season 2 is quite simply a masterpiece of sci-fi genre storytelling. Imbued with authentic revolutionary spirit, the “conclusion” to Cassian Andor’s story (give or take a Rogue One) was a triumph. Diego Luna once again embodied Cassian as an unwilling folk hero who’s always there for the rebellion when it needs him. Meanwhile, the political analogies at play were more astute than ever with the villainous Dedra Meero (Denise Gough) and Syril Karn (Kyle Soller) finding out how little use fascism has for its adherents. Andor season 2 had friends everywhere and we count ourselves among them.

Dying for Sex

FX miniseries Dying for Sex didn’t receive quite the same attention as its franchise and IP-centric television peers and that’s a shame. This funny, touching, and bittersweet eight-episode series was one of the more pleasant and human experiences for the medium this year. Based loosely on a real-life story, Michelle Williams stars as Molly Kochan, a woman who receives a Stage IV breast cancer diagnosis. Faced with the prospect of death, Molly sets off on a journey of sexual self discovery.

Williams shines with a vulnerable performance and Jenny Slate chips in superb supporting work as Molly’s friend Nikki Boyer. Dying for Sex is ultimately a refreshingly blunt look at the most taboo of subjects – death and sex. By the time Rob Delaney enters the proceedings as a neighbor Molly finds herself equally repulsed and turned on by, it’s clear the show has something to say about both.

It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia

Few shows airing a 17th(!) season find their way onto a best-of-the-year list. Then again, not many shows make it to their 17th year in the first place. Thankfully FX comedy It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia has and TV is all the better for it. After a stretch of funny but ultimately dispensable installments in its late teenage years, Rob Mac, Charlie Day, and Glenn Howerton’s demented creation became the best version of itself once again in 2025.

Save for the second half of its charming yet inessential crossover with Abbott Elementary, Always Sunny season 17 features nothing but bangers. Everyone is at the top of their game here. Mac (Mac) salsa dances while under the influence of hot peppers. Dee (Kaitlin Olson) slaps some people. Dennis (Howerton) becomes a waxy-faced vampire. Charlie (Day) shaves his head. Frank (Danny DeVito) is cake. It all culminates in another one of the show’s hilarious, yet oddly touching finales.

Long Story Short

It’s hard to make an animated comedy series more personal, elegiac, and melancholy than BoJack Horseman. With Long Story Short, BoJack creator Raphael Bob-Waksberg gives it a shot anyway. This 10-episode effort, which premiered to Netflix on August 22, puts its viewers through the emotional wringer. Following the middle-class Jewish American Schwooper family over a span of 30-some years, Long Story Short doesn’t let the perpetual forward movement of time interrupt with its storytelling mission.

Whether it’s experiencing young Yoshi’s (Max Greenfield) bar mitzvah, checking in with an adolescent Shira (Abbi Jacobsen), or jumping forward to a middle-aged Avi (Ben Feldman) after experiencing multiple personal tragedies, Long Story Short examines the quiet desperation of American family life from every angle. And of course: it’s very funny … as all families are.

Murderbot

Apple TV+‘s Murderbot features one of the most slam dunk elevator pitches of the 2025 TV season. They’ve got Alexander Skarsgård … and he’s a murderbot. Ok, the titular cyborg (made from machine parts and cloned tissue) at the center of Murderbot isn’t actually called that. He’s an anonymous security tool known as “SecUnit” who is purchased to assist some egghead hippies on a dangerous scientific mission. Unbeknownst to both his creators and purchasers, however, Murderbot has achieved autonomy and given himself a colorful new name.

Just like Martha Wells’ beloved book series upon which Murderbot is based, this is easy-breezy sci-fi capable of entertaining mass audiences. Skarsgård is as likable as ever as he balances the needs of protecting his charges and keeping up his ruse all the while bingeing episodes of his favorite show The Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon. The first season’s 10 episodes flow together nicely, ending in a finale that promises expanded Murderbot adventures (or Diaries) to come.

The Pitt

It might be hyperbole to say that The Pitt saved television this year, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t think that more than once while watching it. Amid a sea of low-effort streaming sludge and long-in-the-tooth franchise storytelling, only HBO Max’s The Pitt had the courage to step forward and say “what if it we just made an awesome ’90s medical drama?”

The Pitt obviously owes a lot to its med drama forefathers, particularly ER from which it borrows star lead Noah Wyle (and according to the Michael Crichton estate: a bit more than that). But its dedication to real-time storytelling and relentless plot movement is an entirely modern invention. These 15 episodes (released weekly obviously) just absolutely fly by. There’s always something going on at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. Glance down at your phone for a second and you’ve missed no fewer than 14 intubations. Take that, second screen TV culture!

The Rehearsal

The first season of Nathan Fielder’s The Rehearsal was a worthy follow-up to the Canadian satirist’s landmark Nathan For You docuseries. Still, it was hard to shake the feeling that the narrative, in which Fielder attempts to rehearse every encounter in his life, could have benefitted from a little more focus. That focus arrives in The Rehearsal season 2, with Fielder locking in to save the American aviation industry.

Over the span of six brilliant episodes, The Rehearsal season 2 identifies a problem (plane crashes), diagnoses its solution (lack of pilot communication), and rolls up its sleeves to fix everything (through rehearsal, of course). By the time you get to Fielder’s “Miracle Over the Mojave,” The Rehearsal‘s second season has truly entered into the “social advocacy comedy docuseries” genre Hall of Fame alongside pretty much just other Nathan Fielder projects. It’s a narrow category.

Severance

Viewers want answers when it comes to mystery box storytelling. In the case of Severance season 2, that means resolutions to questions like “Who was Kier Eagan?,” “Why is Lumon doing all of this,” and of course “What’s with the goats.” At the same time, however, wrapping up any mystery just ends that mystery. How can a show like Severance keep its audience engaged without stringing them along?

Season 2 makes that tightrope act look absurdly easy. Yes, some questions are answered in this batch of 10 episodes on Apple TV+ (including the goat one, believe it or not!). But the seasons real strengths lie in the quiet moments between those discoveries. Between Ben Stiller’s revelatory direction, immaculate production design, and a pitch perfect cast led by Adam Scott, there is truly never a dull moment on the Macrodata Refinement floor.

Squid Game

Thanks to Netflix’s creative (and frankly annoying) release strategy, Squid Game came close to airing two full seasons of television this year, with season 2’s Dec. 26, 2024 release date missing the cut by only six days. The fact that only season three’s six episodes premiered in 2025 might make its inclusion on this list controversial. The concluding arc to creator Hwang Dong-hyuk’s modern dystopian masterpiece was divisive to say the least.

We would argue it shouldn’t be, however. Aside from the aforementioned release model that made it feel like half a season, Squid Game season 3 was another pitch perfect round of dark storytelling. The central games, which are always equal parts thrilling and disgusting, took on an added foreboding resonance as viewers were forced to contend with the introduction of the ultimate innocent contestant and the lingering question of whether Player 456 could actually survive the brutal gauntlet twice. Somehow a very cynical, at times angry show found room to get even angrier while still introducing the slightest bit of hope for a brighter future.

The Studio

Despite feeling as though his job is to destroy them, Continental Studio head Matt Remick (Seth Rogen) really loves movies. The TV show built around him, The Studio, also loves movies…but maybe not as much as it loves television. In addition to being a satirical love letter to Hollywood, even in its imperfect IP era, The Studio has a deep appreciation of what works for its small screen brother. In this case that means gags…lots of ’em.

Save for arguably the premiere and a two-part finale, The Studio‘s 10 installments are wonderfully episodic. One episode finds Matt continually ruining a “oner” on Sarah Polley’s film. Another finds him tussling with Ron Howard over the indulgent end of his flick. Then, just when he thinks he can have a breather on a date with a pediatric oncologist, suddenly he’s suffered a gruesome injury. It’s almost as if this story about movies continues to present situations saturated with comedy. If only there were some kind of term for situational comedy. Maybe then Continental Studio could break into the TV biz.

Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man

X-Men ’97 premiered to Disney+ in 2024 and immediately changed the perception of what Marvel can accomplish in episodic animated storytelling. The X-Men: The Animated Series continuation not only paid faithful homage to its ancestor, it took genuinely bold dramatic swings. 2025’s Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider Man … didn’t do any of that. But it was still a remarkably fun and creative endeavor for Marvel right when the studio sorely needed it.

Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man wisely eschews any of the existing Spidey continuities for an alternate universe sandbox where it can dig in to what really makes Peter Parker tick. Blessed with some intriguing Spider-verse easter eggs and a pitch perfect performance from Colman Domingo as Norman Osborn, YFNSM just works. And if nothing else, it sets a satisfyingly simple template for where Marvel’s big screen webslinger can go in Spider-Man: Brand New Day.

The post The Best TV Shows of 2025 (So Far) appeared first on Den of Geek.

Picture this: You’re in a meeting room at your tech company, and two people are having what looks like the same conversation about the same design problem. One is talking about whether the team has the right skills to tackle it. The other is diving deep into whether the solution actually solves the user’s problem. Same room, same problem, completely different lenses.

This is the beautiful, sometimes messy reality of having both a Design Manager and a Lead Designer on the same team. And if you’re wondering how to make this work without creating confusion, overlap, or the dreaded “too many cooks” scenario, you’re asking the right question.

The traditional answer has been to draw clean lines on an org chart. The Design Manager handles people, the Lead Designer handles craft. Problem solved, right? Except clean org charts are fantasy. In reality, both roles care deeply about team health, design quality, and shipping great work. 

The magic happens when you embrace the overlap instead of fighting it—when you start thinking of your design org as a design organism.

The Anatomy of a Healthy Design Team

Here’s what I’ve learned from years of being on both sides of this equation: think of your design team as a living organism. The Design Manager tends to the mind (the psychological safety, the career growth, the team dynamics). The Lead Designer tends to the body (the craft skills, the design standards, the hands-on work that ships to users).

But just like mind and body aren’t completely separate systems, so, too, do these roles overlap in important ways. You can’t have a healthy person without both working in harmony. The trick is knowing where those overlaps are and how to navigate them gracefully.

When we look at how healthy teams actually function, three critical systems emerge. Each requires both roles to work together, but with one taking primary responsibility for keeping that system strong.

The Nervous System: People & Psychology

Primary caretaker: Design Manager
Supporting role: Lead Designer

The nervous system is all about signals, feedback, and psychological safety. When this system is healthy, information flows freely, people feel safe to take risks, and the team can adapt quickly to new challenges.

The Design Manager is the primary caretaker here. They’re monitoring the team’s psychological pulse, ensuring feedback loops are healthy, and creating the conditions for people to grow. They’re hosting career conversations, managing workload, and making sure no one burns out.

But the Lead Designer plays a crucial supporting role. They’re providing sensory input about craft development needs, spotting when someone’s design skills are stagnating, and helping identify growth opportunities that the Design Manager might miss.

Design Manager tends to:

• Career conversations and growth planning
• Team psychological safety and dynamics
• Workload management and resource allocation
• Performance reviews and feedback systems
• Creating learning opportunities

Lead Designer supports by:

• Providing craft-specific feedback on team member development
• Identifying design skill gaps and growth opportunities
• Offering design mentorship and guidance
• Signaling when team members are ready for more complex challenges

The Muscular System: Craft & Execution

Primary caretaker: Lead Designer
Supporting role: Design Manager

The muscular system is about strength, coordination, and skill development. When this system is healthy, the team can execute complex design work with precision, maintain consistent quality, and adapt their craft to new challenges.

The Lead Designer is the primary caretaker here. They’re setting design standards, providing craft coaching, and ensuring that shipping work meets the quality bar. They’re the ones who can tell you if a design decision is sound or if we’re solving the right problem.

But the Design Manager plays a crucial supporting role. They’re ensuring the team has the resources and support to do their best craft work, like proper nutrition and recovery time for an athlete.

Lead Designer tends to:

• Definition of design standards and system usage
• Feedback on what design work meets the standard
• Experience direction for the product
• Design decisions and product-wide alignment
• Innovation and craft advancement

Design Manager supports by:

• Ensuring design standards are understood and adopted across the team
• Confirming experience direction is being followed
• Supporting practices and systems that scale without bottlenecking
• Facilitating design alignment across teams
• Providing resources and removing obstacles to great craft work

The Circulatory System: Strategy & Flow

Shared caretakers: Both Design Manager and Lead Designer

The circulatory system is about how information, decisions, and energy flow through the team. When this system is healthy, strategic direction is clear, priorities are aligned, and the team can respond quickly to new opportunities or challenges.

This is where true partnership happens. Both roles are responsible for keeping the circulation strong, but they’re bringing different perspectives to the table.

Lead Designer contributes:

• User needs are met by the product
• Overall product quality and experience
• Strategic design initiatives
• Research-based user needs for each initiative

Design Manager contributes:

• Communication to team and stakeholders
• Stakeholder management and alignment
• Cross-functional team accountability
• Strategic business initiatives

Both collaborate on:

• Co-creation of strategy with leadership
• Team goals and prioritization approach
• Organizational structure decisions
• Success measures and frameworks

Keeping the Organism Healthy

The key to making this partnership sing is understanding that all three systems need to work together. A team with great craft skills but poor psychological safety will burn out. A team with great culture but weak craft execution will ship mediocre work. A team with both but poor strategic circulation will work hard on the wrong things.

Be Explicit About Which System You’re Tending

When you’re in a meeting about a design problem, it helps to acknowledge which system you’re primarily focused on. “I’m thinking about this from a team capacity perspective” (nervous system) or “I’m looking at this through the lens of user needs” (muscular system) gives everyone context for your input.

This isn’t about staying in your lane. It’s about being transparent as to which lens you’re using, so the other person knows how to best add their perspective.

Create Healthy Feedback Loops

The most successful partnerships I’ve seen establish clear feedback loops between the systems:

Nervous system signals to muscular system: “The team is struggling with confidence in their design skills” → Lead Designer provides more craft coaching and clearer standards.

Muscular system signals to nervous system: “The team’s craft skills are advancing faster than their project complexity” → Design Manager finds more challenging growth opportunities.

Both systems signal to circulatory system: “We’re seeing patterns in team health and craft development that suggest we need to adjust our strategic priorities.”

Handle Handoffs Gracefully

The most critical moments in this partnership are when something moves from one system to another. This might be when a design standard (muscular system) needs to be rolled out across the team (nervous system), or when a strategic initiative (circulatory system) needs specific craft execution (muscular system).

Make these transitions explicit. “I’ve defined the new component standards. Can you help me think through how to get the team up to speed?” or “We’ve agreed on this strategic direction. I’m going to focus on the specific user experience approach from here.”

Stay Curious, Not Territorial

The Design Manager who never thinks about craft, or the Lead Designer who never considers team dynamics, is like a doctor who only looks at one body system. Great design leadership requires both people to care about the whole organism, even when they’re not the primary caretaker.

This means asking questions rather than making assumptions. “What do you think about the team’s craft development in this area?” or “How do you see this impacting team morale and workload?” keeps both perspectives active in every decision.

When the Organism Gets Sick

Even with clear roles, this partnership can go sideways. Here are the most common failure modes I’ve seen:

System Isolation

The Design Manager focuses only on the nervous system and ignores craft development. The Lead Designer focuses only on the muscular system and ignores team dynamics. Both people retreat to their comfort zones and stop collaborating.

The symptoms: Team members get mixed messages, work quality suffers, morale drops.

The treatment: Reconnect around shared outcomes. What are you both trying to achieve? Usually it’s great design work that ships on time from a healthy team. Figure out how both systems serve that goal.

Poor Circulation

Strategic direction is unclear, priorities keep shifting, and neither role is taking responsibility for keeping information flowing.

The symptoms: Team members are confused about priorities, work gets duplicated or dropped, deadlines are missed.

The treatment: Explicitly assign responsibility for circulation. Who’s communicating what to whom? How often? What’s the feedback loop?

Autoimmune Response

One person feels threatened by the other’s expertise. The Design Manager thinks the Lead Designer is undermining their authority. The Lead Designer thinks the Design Manager doesn’t understand craft.

The symptoms: Defensive behavior, territorial disputes, team members caught in the middle.

The treatment: Remember that you’re both caretakers of the same organism. When one system fails, the whole team suffers. When both systems are healthy, the team thrives.

The Payoff

Yes, this model requires more communication. Yes, it requires both people to be secure enough to share responsibility for team health. But the payoff is worth it: better decisions, stronger teams, and design work that’s both excellent and sustainable.

When both roles are healthy and working well together, you get the best of both worlds: deep craft expertise and strong people leadership. When one person is out sick, on vacation, or overwhelmed, the other can help maintain the team’s health. When a decision requires both the people perspective and the craft perspective, you’ve got both right there in the room.

Most importantly, the framework scales. As your team grows, you can apply the same system thinking to new challenges. Need to launch a design system? Lead Designer tends to the muscular system (standards and implementation), Design Manager tends to the nervous system (team adoption and change management), and both tend to circulation (communication and stakeholder alignment).

The Bottom Line

The relationship between a Design Manager and Lead Designer isn’t about dividing territories. It’s about multiplying impact. When both roles understand they’re tending to different aspects of the same healthy organism, magic happens.

The mind and body work together. The team gets both the strategic thinking and the craft excellence they need. And most importantly, the work that ships to users benefits from both perspectives.

So the next time you’re in that meeting room, wondering why two people are talking about the same problem from different angles, remember: you’re watching shared leadership in action. And if it’s working well, both the mind and body of your design team are getting stronger.

As a product builder over too many years to mention, I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve seen promising ideas go from zero to hero in a few weeks, only to fizzle out within months.

Financial products, which is the field I work in, are no exception. With people’s real hard-earned money on the line, user expectations running high, and a crowded market, it’s tempting to throw as many features at the wall as possible and hope something sticks. But this approach is a recipe for disaster. Here’s why:

The pitfalls of feature-first development

When you start building a financial product from the ground up, or are migrating existing customer journeys from paper or telephony channels onto online banking or mobile apps, it’s easy to get caught up in the excitement of creating new features. You might think, “If I can just add one more thing that solves this particular user problem, they’ll love me!” But what happens when you inevitably hit a roadblock because the narcs (your security team!) don’t like it? When a hard-fought feature isn’t as popular as you thought, or it breaks due to unforeseen complexity?

This is where the concept of Minimum Viable Product (MVP) comes in. Jason Fried’s book Getting Real and his podcast Rework often touch on this idea, even if he doesn’t always call it that. An MVP is a product that provides just enough value to your users to keep them engaged, but not so much that it becomes overwhelming or difficult to maintain. It sounds like an easy concept but it requires a razor sharp eye, a ruthless edge and having the courage to stick by your opinion because it is easy to be seduced by “the Columbo Effect”… when there’s always “just one more thing…” that someone wants to add.

The problem with most finance apps, however, is that they often become a reflection of the internal politics of the business rather than an experience solely designed around the customer. This means that the focus is on delivering as many features and functionalities as possible to satisfy the needs and desires of competing internal departments, rather than providing a clear value proposition that is focused on what the people out there in the real world want. As a result, these products can very easily bloat to become a mixed bag of confusing, unrelated and ultimately unlovable customer experiences—a feature salad, you might say.

The importance of bedrock

So what’s a better approach? How can we build products that are stable, user-friendly, and—most importantly—stick?

That’s where the concept of “bedrock” comes in. Bedrock is the core element of your product that truly matters to users. It’s the fundamental building block that provides value and stays relevant over time.

In the world of retail banking, which is where I work, the bedrock has got to be in and around the regular servicing journeys. People open their current account once in a blue moon but they look at it every day. They sign up for a credit card every year or two, but they check their balance and pay their bill at least once a month.

Identifying the core tasks that people want to do and then relentlessly striving to make them easy to do, dependable, and trustworthy is where the gravy’s at.

But how do you get to bedrock? By focusing on the “MVP” approach, prioritizing simplicity, and iterating towards a clear value proposition. This means cutting out unnecessary features and focusing on delivering real value to your users.

It also means having some guts, because your colleagues might not always instantly share your vision to start with. And controversially, sometimes it can even mean making it clear to customers that you’re not going to come to their house and make their dinner. The occasional “opinionated user interface design” (i.e. clunky workaround for edge cases) might sometimes be what you need to use to test a concept or buy you space to work on something more important.

Practical strategies for building financial products that stick

So what are the key strategies I’ve learned from my own experience and research?

1. Start with a clear “why”: What problem are you trying to solve? For whom? Make sure your mission is crystal clear before building anything. Make sure it aligns with your company’s objectives, too.
2. Focus on a single, core feature and obsess on getting that right before moving on to something else: Resist the temptation to add too many features at once. Instead, choose one that delivers real value and iterate from there.
3. Prioritize simplicity over complexity: Less is often more when it comes to financial products. Cut out unnecessary bells and whistles and keep the focus on what matters most.
4. Embrace continuous iteration: Bedrock isn’t a fixed destination—it’s a dynamic process. Continuously gather user feedback, refine your product, and iterate towards that bedrock state.
5. Stop, look and listen: Don’t just test your product as part of your delivery process—test it repeatedly in the field. Use it yourself. Run A/B tests. Gather user feedback. Talk to people who use it, and refine accordingly.

The bedrock paradox

There’s an interesting paradox at play here: building towards bedrock means sacrificing some short-term growth potential in favour of long-term stability. But the payoff is worth it—products built with a focus on bedrock will outlast and outperform their competitors, and deliver sustained value to users over time.

So, how do you start your journey towards bedrock? Take it one step at a time. Start by identifying those core elements that truly matter to your users. Focus on building and refining a single, powerful feature that delivers real value. And above all, test obsessively—for, in the words of Abraham Lincoln, Alan Kay, or Peter Drucker (whomever you believe!!), “The best way to predict the future is to create it.”

“You do something hard so they know that you love them.” There are infinite possibilities in play when it comes to animation, yet there’s a comforting universal constant when it comes to family sitcoms – animated or otherwise. A family provides a natural set of relationships for its characters, but it’s so much more than […]

The post Long Story Short Review: A Worthy BoJack Successor appeared first on Den of Geek.

In a March 2025 interview with Howard Stern to promote his Apple TV+ comedy The Studio, Seth Rogen described what drives his character Matt Remick, head of fictional Hollywood studio Continental.

“What’s so frustrating about Hollywood, and what’s so alluring about these delusions of grandeur – especially if you run a movie studio – is that you think you might be the person to course correct all of Hollywood,” he said. “Singular people have done that. But if you were someone who was willing to buy into the delusions of grandeur of all of it, you could view yourself as the person who single-handedly saves Hollywood.”

Spoiler alert: Matt Remick doesn’t save Hollywood. Funnily enough though, Rogen may have helped to save television this year all the same. That’s because Rogen and company’s delightful 10-episode series is just one of many 2025 cable and streaming efforts that understood the assignment.

From Apple TV+’s Severance to HBO Max’s The Pitt to FX’s Alien: Earth and beyond, this year has been filled with projects that have respect for TV as an episodic medium. And while the weekly release format remains more of a novelty than a fact of life in the streaming world, many properties are increasingly putting it to good use or at least finding a creative way of working within it like Andor season 2’s three-episode-per-week model.

Through it all there was plenty of serialized and episodic joy to be found on television in 2025. Here are some of our favorites so far.

Adolescence

Extended single-take shots or “oners” are all the rage on television nowadays. So much so that another 2025 show (that you’ll be reading about on this list soon enough) built an entire episode, fittingly called “The Oner,” out of the technique. With so many talented filmmakers and performers getting in on the action, the standards for what makes an effective oner have been raised. It can’t just all be about logistical mastery – the lack of interruption within a scene has to play emotionally as well. Enter Adolescence.

Created by Jack Thorne and Stephen Graham, this four-episode Netflix series represents the most effective and affecting use of single take storytelling in some time. At the beginning of one unassuming day in an unspecified northern English town, police arrive at the doorstep of the Miller family to deliver unthinkable news: 13-year-old son Jamie (an astonishing Owen Cooper) is wanted for the murder of his classmate Katie. What follows are four excruciating installments examining a family and community’s pain, all without the relief of a single cut.

Alien: Earth

“There is surprisingly little mythology in the Alien film universe,” Alien: Earth showrunner Noah Hawley observed in an interview with Den of Geek. “All we really know is that there’s this company called Weyland-Yutani, and it has a knack for putting its employees in terrible danger.” Hawley is right. Much of the appeal of Ridley Scott’s 1979 sci-fi classic comes down to the simplicity of letting an apex predator loose in a confined space amid a vacuum where no one can hear your scream. How can such a cinematic, elemental concept stand up to the episodic rigors of television? Pretty well it turns out!

Thanks to Hawley’s vision, a capable cast, and FX’s newfound Disney money, Alien: Earth presents some of the most compelling worldbuilding from an Alien story yet. Set just two years before Scott’s film, Earth imagines its title location as a playground for five megacorporations looking to achieve immortality. Young trillionaire Boy Kavalier (Samuel Blenkin) and his Prodigy Corporation believe they’ve reached that goal with the creation of powerful, child-brained hybrids, led by the indestructible Wendy (Sydney Chandler). Those ideas combined with some genuinely thrilling and bloody action have made for a heady, enjoyable sci-fi experience.

Andor

The success of Disney+’s Andor can be observed by its frequent use as a measuring stick. Across the entertainment landscape, any studio introducing a fresh new take on an existing IP plainly states that it’s intended to be the “Andor of [INSERT-FRANCHISE-HERE].” Marvel’s Secret Invasion was teased as the Andor of the MCU (and hooboy, that was a swing and a miss). More successfully, the aforementioned Alien: Earth has been pitched as the Alien’s Andor. Truthfully, however, there’s only one Andor and the show’s second and final season proved why.

Andor season 2 is quite simply a masterpiece of sci-fi genre storytelling. Imbued with authentic revolutionary spirit, the “conclusion” to Cassian Andor’s story (give or take a Rogue One) was a triumph. Diego Luna once again embodied Cassian as an unwilling folk hero who’s always there for the rebellion when it needs him. Meanwhile, the political analogies at play were more astute than ever with the villainous Dedra Meero (Denise Gough) and Syril Karn (Kyle Soller) finding out how little use fascism has for its adherents. Andor season 2 had friends everywhere and we count ourselves among them.

Dying for Sex

FX miniseries Dying for Sex didn’t receive quite the same attention as its franchise and IP-centric television peers and that’s a shame. This funny, touching, and bittersweet eight-episode series was one of the more pleasant and human experiences for the medium this year. Based loosely on a real-life story, Michelle Williams stars as Molly Kochan, a woman who receives a Stage IV breast cancer diagnosis. Faced with the prospect of death, Molly sets off on a journey of sexual self discovery.

Williams shines with a vulnerable performance and Jenny Slate chips in superb supporting work as Molly’s friend Nikki Boyer. Dying for Sex is ultimately a refreshingly blunt look at the most taboo of subjects – death and sex. By the time Rob Delaney enters the proceedings as a neighbor Molly finds herself equally repulsed and turned on by, it’s clear the show has something to say about both.

It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia

Few shows airing a 17th(!) season find their way onto a best-of-the-year list. Then again, not many shows make it to their 17th year in the first place. Thankfully FX comedy It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia has and TV is all the better for it. After a stretch of funny but ultimately dispensable installments in its late teenage years, Rob Mac, Charlie Day, and Glenn Howerton’s demented creation became the best version of itself once again in 2025.

Save for the second half of its charming yet inessential crossover with Abbott Elementary, Always Sunny season 17 features nothing but bangers. Everyone is at the top of their game here. Mac (Mac) salsa dances while under the influence of hot peppers. Dee (Kaitlin Olson) slaps some people. Dennis (Howerton) becomes a waxy-faced vampire. Charlie (Day) shaves his head. Frank (Danny DeVito) is cake. It all culminates in another one of the show’s hilarious, yet oddly touching finales.

Long Story Short

It’s hard to make an animated comedy series more personal, elegiac, and melancholy than BoJack Horseman. With Long Story Short, BoJack creator Raphael Bob-Waksberg gives it a shot anyway. This 10-episode effort, which premiered to Netflix on August 22, puts its viewers through the emotional wringer. Following the middle-class Jewish American Schwooper family over a span of 30-some years, Long Story Short doesn’t let the perpetual forward movement of time interrupt with its storytelling mission.

Whether it’s experiencing young Yoshi’s (Max Greenfield) bar mitzvah, checking in with an adolescent Shira (Abbi Jacobsen), or jumping forward to a middle-aged Avi (Ben Feldman) after experiencing multiple personal tragedies, Long Story Short examines the quiet desperation of American family life from every angle. And of course: it’s very funny … as all families are.

Murderbot

Apple TV+‘s Murderbot features one of the most slam dunk elevator pitches of the 2025 TV season. They’ve got Alexander Skarsgård … and he’s a murderbot. Ok, the titular cyborg (made from machine parts and cloned tissue) at the center of Murderbot isn’t actually called that. He’s an anonymous security tool known as “SecUnit” who is purchased to assist some egghead hippies on a dangerous scientific mission. Unbeknownst to both his creators and purchasers, however, Murderbot has achieved autonomy and given himself a colorful new name.

Just like Martha Wells’ beloved book series upon which Murderbot is based, this is easy-breezy sci-fi capable of entertaining mass audiences. Skarsgård is as likable as ever as he balances the needs of protecting his charges and keeping up his ruse all the while bingeing episodes of his favorite show The Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon. The first season’s 10 episodes flow together nicely, ending in a finale that promises expanded Murderbot adventures (or Diaries) to come.

The Pitt

It might be hyperbole to say that The Pitt saved television this year, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t think that more than once while watching it. Amid a sea of low-effort streaming sludge and long-in-the-tooth franchise storytelling, only HBO Max’s The Pitt had the courage to step forward and say “what if it we just made an awesome ’90s medical drama?”

The Pitt obviously owes a lot to its med drama forefathers, particularly ER from which it borrows star lead Noah Wyle (and according to the Michael Crichton estate: a bit more than that). But its dedication to real-time storytelling and relentless plot movement is an entirely modern invention. These 15 episodes (released weekly obviously) just absolutely fly by. There’s always something going on at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. Glance down at your phone for a second and you’ve missed no fewer than 14 intubations. Take that, second screen TV culture!

The Rehearsal

The first season of Nathan Fielder’s The Rehearsal was a worthy follow-up to the Canadian satirist’s landmark Nathan For You docuseries. Still, it was hard to shake the feeling that the narrative, in which Fielder attempts to rehearse every encounter in his life, could have benefitted from a little more focus. That focus arrives in The Rehearsal season 2, with Fielder locking in to save the American aviation industry.

Over the span of six brilliant episodes, The Rehearsal season 2 identifies a problem (plane crashes), diagnoses its solution (lack of pilot communication), and rolls up its sleeves to fix everything (through rehearsal, of course). By the time you get to Fielder’s “Miracle Over the Mojave,” The Rehearsal‘s second season has truly entered into the “social advocacy comedy docuseries” genre Hall of Fame alongside pretty much just other Nathan Fielder projects. It’s a narrow category.

Severance

Viewers want answers when it comes to mystery box storytelling. In the case of Severance season 2, that means resolutions to questions like “Who was Kier Eagan?,” “Why is Lumon doing all of this,” and of course “What’s with the goats.” At the same time, however, wrapping up any mystery just ends that mystery. How can a show like Severance keep its audience engaged without stringing them along?

Season 2 makes that tightrope act look absurdly easy. Yes, some questions are answered in this batch of 10 episodes on Apple TV+ (including the goat one, believe it or not!). But the seasons real strengths lie in the quiet moments between those discoveries. Between Ben Stiller’s revelatory direction, immaculate production design, and a pitch perfect cast led by Adam Scott, there is truly never a dull moment on the Macrodata Refinement floor.

Squid Game

Thanks to Netflix’s creative (and frankly annoying) release strategy, Squid Game came close to airing two full seasons of television this year, with season 2’s Dec. 26, 2024 release date missing the cut by only six days. The fact that only season three’s six episodes premiered in 2025 might make its inclusion on this list controversial. The concluding arc to creator Hwang Dong-hyuk’s modern dystopian masterpiece was divisive to say the least.

We would argue it shouldn’t be, however. Aside from the aforementioned release model that made it feel like half a season, Squid Game season 3 was another pitch perfect round of dark storytelling. The central games, which are always equal parts thrilling and disgusting, took on an added foreboding resonance as viewers were forced to contend with the introduction of the ultimate innocent contestant and the lingering question of whether Player 456 could actually survive the brutal gauntlet twice. Somehow a very cynical, at times angry show found room to get even angrier while still introducing the slightest bit of hope for a brighter future.

The Studio

Despite feeling as though his job is to destroy them, Continental Studio head Matt Remick (Seth Rogen) really loves movies. The TV show built around him, The Studio, also loves movies…but maybe not as much as it loves television. In addition to being a satirical love letter to Hollywood, even in its imperfect IP era, The Studio has a deep appreciation of what works for its small screen brother. In this case that means gags…lots of ’em.

Save for arguably the premiere and a two-part finale, The Studio‘s 10 installments are wonderfully episodic. One episode finds Matt continually ruining a “oner” on Sarah Polley’s film. Another finds him tussling with Ron Howard over the indulgent end of his flick. Then, just when he thinks he can have a breather on a date with a pediatric oncologist, suddenly he’s suffered a gruesome injury. It’s almost as if this story about movies continues to present situations saturated with comedy. If only there were some kind of term for situational comedy. Maybe then Continental Studio could break into the TV biz.

Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man

X-Men ’97 premiered to Disney+ in 2024 and immediately changed the perception of what Marvel can accomplish in episodic animated storytelling. The X-Men: The Animated Series continuation not only paid faithful homage to its ancestor, it took genuinely bold dramatic swings. 2025’s Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider Man … didn’t do any of that. But it was still a remarkably fun and creative endeavor for Marvel right when the studio sorely needed it.

Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man wisely eschews any of the existing Spidey continuities for an alternate universe sandbox where it can dig in to what really makes Peter Parker tick. Blessed with some intriguing Spider-verse easter eggs and a pitch perfect performance from Colman Domingo as Norman Osborn, YFNSM just works. And if nothing else, it sets a satisfyingly simple template for where Marvel’s big screen webslinger can go in Spider-Man: Brand New Day.

The post The Best TV Shows of 2025 (So Far) appeared first on Den of Geek.

Later this month will see the release of The Toxic Avenger, the reboot of the beloved splatter comedy that introduced the world to the visceral joys of Troma. Starring Peter Dinklage in the title role, the movie is a proudly gory superhero pastiche with pitch black humor, cartoonish bad guys, and a total lack of […]

The post That Weird Time The Toxic Avenger Became a Kid-Friendly Saturday Morning Cartoon appeared first on Den of Geek.

In a March 2025 interview with Howard Stern to promote his Apple TV+ comedy The Studio, Seth Rogen described what drives his character Matt Remick, head of fictional Hollywood studio Continental.

“What’s so frustrating about Hollywood, and what’s so alluring about these delusions of grandeur – especially if you run a movie studio – is that you think you might be the person to course correct all of Hollywood,” he said. “Singular people have done that. But if you were someone who was willing to buy into the delusions of grandeur of all of it, you could view yourself as the person who single-handedly saves Hollywood.”

Spoiler alert: Matt Remick doesn’t save Hollywood. Funnily enough though, Rogen may have helped to save television this year all the same. That’s because Rogen and company’s delightful 10-episode series is just one of many 2025 cable and streaming efforts that understood the assignment.

From Apple TV+’s Severance to HBO Max’s The Pitt to FX’s Alien: Earth and beyond, this year has been filled with projects that have respect for TV as an episodic medium. And while the weekly release format remains more of a novelty than a fact of life in the streaming world, many properties are increasingly putting it to good use or at least finding a creative way of working within it like Andor season 2’s three-episode-per-week model.

Through it all there was plenty of serialized and episodic joy to be found on television in 2025. Here are some of our favorites so far.

Adolescence

Extended single-take shots or “oners” are all the rage on television nowadays. So much so that another 2025 show (that you’ll be reading about on this list soon enough) built an entire episode, fittingly called “The Oner,” out of the technique. With so many talented filmmakers and performers getting in on the action, the standards for what makes an effective oner have been raised. It can’t just all be about logistical mastery – the lack of interruption within a scene has to play emotionally as well. Enter Adolescence.

Created by Jack Thorne and Stephen Graham, this four-episode Netflix series represents the most effective and affecting use of single take storytelling in some time. At the beginning of one unassuming day in an unspecified northern English town, police arrive at the doorstep of the Miller family to deliver unthinkable news: 13-year-old son Jamie (an astonishing Owen Cooper) is wanted for the murder of his classmate Katie. What follows are four excruciating installments examining a family and community’s pain, all without the relief of a single cut.

Alien: Earth

“There is surprisingly little mythology in the Alien film universe,” Alien: Earth showrunner Noah Hawley observed in an interview with Den of Geek. “All we really know is that there’s this company called Weyland-Yutani, and it has a knack for putting its employees in terrible danger.” Hawley is right. Much of the appeal of Ridley Scott’s 1979 sci-fi classic comes down to the simplicity of letting an apex predator loose in a confined space amid a vacuum where no one can hear your scream. How can such a cinematic, elemental concept stand up to the episodic rigors of television? Pretty well it turns out!

Thanks to Hawley’s vision, a capable cast, and FX’s newfound Disney money, Alien: Earth presents some of the most compelling worldbuilding from an Alien story yet. Set just two years before Scott’s film, Earth imagines its title location as a playground for five megacorporations looking to achieve immortality. Young trillionaire Boy Kavalier (Samuel Blenkin) and his Prodigy Corporation believe they’ve reached that goal with the creation of powerful, child-brained hybrids, led by the indestructible Wendy (Sydney Chandler). Those ideas combined with some genuinely thrilling and bloody action have made for a heady, enjoyable sci-fi experience.

Andor

The success of Disney+’s Andor can be observed by its frequent use as a measuring stick. Across the entertainment landscape, any studio introducing a fresh new take on an existing IP plainly states that it’s intended to be the “Andor of [INSERT-FRANCHISE-HERE].” Marvel’s Secret Invasion was teased as the Andor of the MCU (and hooboy, that was a swing and a miss). More successfully, the aforementioned Alien: Earth has been pitched as the Alien’s Andor. Truthfully, however, there’s only one Andor and the show’s second and final season proved why.

Andor season 2 is quite simply a masterpiece of sci-fi genre storytelling. Imbued with authentic revolutionary spirit, the “conclusion” to Cassian Andor’s story (give or take a Rogue One) was a triumph. Diego Luna once again embodied Cassian as an unwilling folk hero who’s always there for the rebellion when it needs him. Meanwhile, the political analogies at play were more astute than ever with the villainous Dedra Meero (Denise Gough) and Syril Karn (Kyle Soller) finding out how little use fascism has for its adherents. Andor season 2 had friends everywhere and we count ourselves among them.

Dying for Sex

FX miniseries Dying for Sex didn’t receive quite the same attention as its franchise and IP-centric television peers and that’s a shame. This funny, touching, and bittersweet eight-episode series was one of the more pleasant and human experiences for the medium this year. Based loosely on a real-life story, Michelle Williams stars as Molly Kochan, a woman who receives a Stage IV breast cancer diagnosis. Faced with the prospect of death, Molly sets off on a journey of sexual self discovery.

Williams shines with a vulnerable performance and Jenny Slate chips in superb supporting work as Molly’s friend Nikki Boyer. Dying for Sex is ultimately a refreshingly blunt look at the most taboo of subjects – death and sex. By the time Rob Delaney enters the proceedings as a neighbor Molly finds herself equally repulsed and turned on by, it’s clear the show has something to say about both.

It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia

Few shows airing a 17th(!) season find their way onto a best-of-the-year list. Then again, not many shows make it to their 17th year in the first place. Thankfully FX comedy It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia has and TV is all the better for it. After a stretch of funny but ultimately dispensable installments in its late teenage years, Rob Mac, Charlie Day, and Glenn Howerton’s demented creation became the best version of itself once again in 2025.

Save for the second half of its charming yet inessential crossover with Abbott Elementary, Always Sunny season 17 features nothing but bangers. Everyone is at the top of their game here. Mac (Mac) salsa dances while under the influence of hot peppers. Dee (Kaitlin Olson) slaps some people. Dennis (Howerton) becomes a waxy-faced vampire. Charlie (Day) shaves his head. Frank (Danny DeVito) is cake. It all culminates in another one of the show’s hilarious, yet oddly touching finales.

Long Story Short

It’s hard to make an animated comedy series more personal, elegiac, and melancholy than BoJack Horseman. With Long Story Short, BoJack creator Raphael Bob-Waksberg gives it a shot anyway. This 10-episode effort, which premiered to Netflix on August 22, puts its viewers through the emotional wringer. Following the middle-class Jewish American Schwooper family over a span of 30-some years, Long Story Short doesn’t let the perpetual forward movement of time interrupt with its storytelling mission.

Whether it’s experiencing young Yoshi’s (Max Greenfield) bar mitzvah, checking in with an adolescent Shira (Abbi Jacobsen), or jumping forward to a middle-aged Avi (Ben Feldman) after experiencing multiple personal tragedies, Long Story Short examines the quiet desperation of American family life from every angle. And of course: it’s very funny … as all families are.

Murderbot

Apple TV+‘s Murderbot features one of the most slam dunk elevator pitches of the 2025 TV season. They’ve got Alexander Skarsgård … and he’s a murderbot. Ok, the titular cyborg (made from machine parts and cloned tissue) at the center of Murderbot isn’t actually called that. He’s an anonymous security tool known as “SecUnit” who is purchased to assist some egghead hippies on a dangerous scientific mission. Unbeknownst to both his creators and purchasers, however, Murderbot has achieved autonomy and given himself a colorful new name.

Just like Martha Wells’ beloved book series upon which Murderbot is based, this is easy-breezy sci-fi capable of entertaining mass audiences. Skarsgård is as likable as ever as he balances the needs of protecting his charges and keeping up his ruse all the while bingeing episodes of his favorite show The Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon. The first season’s 10 episodes flow together nicely, ending in a finale that promises expanded Murderbot adventures (or Diaries) to come.

The Pitt

It might be hyperbole to say that The Pitt saved television this year, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t think that more than once while watching it. Amid a sea of low-effort streaming sludge and long-in-the-tooth franchise storytelling, only HBO Max’s The Pitt had the courage to step forward and say “what if it we just made an awesome ’90s medical drama?”

The Pitt obviously owes a lot to its med drama forefathers, particularly ER from which it borrows star lead Noah Wyle (and according to the Michael Crichton estate: a bit more than that). But its dedication to real-time storytelling and relentless plot movement is an entirely modern invention. These 15 episodes (released weekly obviously) just absolutely fly by. There’s always something going on at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. Glance down at your phone for a second and you’ve missed no fewer than 14 intubations. Take that, second screen TV culture!

The Rehearsal

The first season of Nathan Fielder’s The Rehearsal was a worthy follow-up to the Canadian satirist’s landmark Nathan For You docuseries. Still, it was hard to shake the feeling that the narrative, in which Fielder attempts to rehearse every encounter in his life, could have benefitted from a little more focus. That focus arrives in The Rehearsal season 2, with Fielder locking in to save the American aviation industry.

Over the span of six brilliant episodes, The Rehearsal season 2 identifies a problem (plane crashes), diagnoses its solution (lack of pilot communication), and rolls up its sleeves to fix everything (through rehearsal, of course). By the time you get to Fielder’s “Miracle Over the Mojave,” The Rehearsal‘s second season has truly entered into the “social advocacy comedy docuseries” genre Hall of Fame alongside pretty much just other Nathan Fielder projects. It’s a narrow category.

Severance

Viewers want answers when it comes to mystery box storytelling. In the case of Severance season 2, that means resolutions to questions like “Who was Kier Eagan?,” “Why is Lumon doing all of this,” and of course “What’s with the goats.” At the same time, however, wrapping up any mystery just ends that mystery. How can a show like Severance keep its audience engaged without stringing them along?

Season 2 makes that tightrope act look absurdly easy. Yes, some questions are answered in this batch of 10 episodes on Apple TV+ (including the goat one, believe it or not!). But the seasons real strengths lie in the quiet moments between those discoveries. Between Ben Stiller’s revelatory direction, immaculate production design, and a pitch perfect cast led by Adam Scott, there is truly never a dull moment on the Macrodata Refinement floor.

Squid Game

Thanks to Netflix’s creative (and frankly annoying) release strategy, Squid Game came close to airing two full seasons of television this year, with season 2’s Dec. 26, 2024 release date missing the cut by only six days. The fact that only season three’s six episodes premiered in 2025 might make its inclusion on this list controversial. The concluding arc to creator Hwang Dong-hyuk’s modern dystopian masterpiece was divisive to say the least.

We would argue it shouldn’t be, however. Aside from the aforementioned release model that made it feel like half a season, Squid Game season 3 was another pitch perfect round of dark storytelling. The central games, which are always equal parts thrilling and disgusting, took on an added foreboding resonance as viewers were forced to contend with the introduction of the ultimate innocent contestant and the lingering question of whether Player 456 could actually survive the brutal gauntlet twice. Somehow a very cynical, at times angry show found room to get even angrier while still introducing the slightest bit of hope for a brighter future.

The Studio

Despite feeling as though his job is to destroy them, Continental Studio head Matt Remick (Seth Rogen) really loves movies. The TV show built around him, The Studio, also loves movies…but maybe not as much as it loves television. In addition to being a satirical love letter to Hollywood, even in its imperfect IP era, The Studio has a deep appreciation of what works for its small screen brother. In this case that means gags…lots of ’em.

Save for arguably the premiere and a two-part finale, The Studio‘s 10 installments are wonderfully episodic. One episode finds Matt continually ruining a “oner” on Sarah Polley’s film. Another finds him tussling with Ron Howard over the indulgent end of his flick. Then, just when he thinks he can have a breather on a date with a pediatric oncologist, suddenly he’s suffered a gruesome injury. It’s almost as if this story about movies continues to present situations saturated with comedy. If only there were some kind of term for situational comedy. Maybe then Continental Studio could break into the TV biz.

Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man

X-Men ’97 premiered to Disney+ in 2024 and immediately changed the perception of what Marvel can accomplish in episodic animated storytelling. The X-Men: The Animated Series continuation not only paid faithful homage to its ancestor, it took genuinely bold dramatic swings. 2025’s Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider Man … didn’t do any of that. But it was still a remarkably fun and creative endeavor for Marvel right when the studio sorely needed it.

Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man wisely eschews any of the existing Spidey continuities for an alternate universe sandbox where it can dig in to what really makes Peter Parker tick. Blessed with some intriguing Spider-verse easter eggs and a pitch perfect performance from Colman Domingo as Norman Osborn, YFNSM just works. And if nothing else, it sets a satisfyingly simple template for where Marvel’s big screen webslinger can go in Spider-Man: Brand New Day.

The post The Best TV Shows of 2025 (So Far) appeared first on Den of Geek.