Just like most two year olds, my daughter likes to ask ‘why?’ Recently, I’ve tried responding to every ‘why’ to see where it leads. It’s like a cross between improv and some perverse version of Mallet’s Mallet. Here’s a transcript of a conversation I recorded in the car earlier today:
Me: We’re going into Cardiff today.
Two year old: Why?
Me: To go to the castle
Two year old: Why?
Me: Because it’s better than watching TV, and it’s a nice day!
Two year old: Why?
Me: That’s what happens when the sun shines
Two year old: Why?
Me: Because there are no clouds
Two year old: Why?
Me: It’s due to high pressure
Two year old: Why?
Me: Because that’s how weather works
Two year old: Why?
Me: There’s lots to it: solar radiation, air movement, global warming…
Two year old: Why?
Me: Weather is complicated
Two year old: Why?
Me: Lots of factors. That’s why we have people telling us what the weather will be.
Two year old: Why?
Me: So we know when to wear a coat
Two year old: Why?
Me: So we don’t get wet
Two year old: Why?
Me: Because wearing wet clothes is miserable, and it’ll give you a cold.
Two year old: Why?
Me: Because, apparently, it can make you more at risk of infection.
Two year old: Why?
Me: Maybe your immune system. Everyone has one.
Two year old: Why?
Me: To stop you getting sick.
Two year old: Why?
Me: So you can continue living.
Two year old: Why?
Me: To procreate.
Two year old: Why?
Me: To continue the human race.
Two year old: Why?
Me: You know, i’ve no idea.
Two year old: OK.
A conversation like that has happened almost every day for the past few weeks. This was the longest. And deepest.
Eight years ago, Emma and I were driving down from visiting my parents near Manchester. It was a sunny, blustery day in June 2006.
During this time, we both worked for the BBC – Emma in Audience Research, and me in, what was then called, New Media. As a lot of designers do, I was working some freelance work on the side. A couple of weeks prior to that car trip, however, I’d been offered a freelance project that was too good to turn down, but it was big. Bigger than a few hours a night when I got home from the day job. On that car trip, we decided that one of those jobs had to go: my freelance work, or the job at the BBC. I chose the latter, and the very next day, handed in my resignation at the BBC. It was time to head out alone.
Eight years later and it’s time for another change.
Running a design studio has been a fabulously rewarding experience. I’ve worked with some talented people on some great projects for wonderful clients. But, all through this time, there has been a niggling problem, one that I’ve talked about at a couple of design conferences this year. When we’re hired by a company to work on their project, just by the nature of the engagement, we’re not as close to the problem as we need to be. We’re not in-house. We’re not experiencing them day by day. And, quite often, we’re not in the position to help fix the problems in the organisation as we uncover them. Having the opportunity to be closer to the problem really excites me, and that’s why this change is such an important decision for me at this time in my career.
We know the web is going through an interesting time right now. This is not so much being felt by us in the industry, but by the myriad of companies who publish content that are struggling to cope with the changes and demands their readership and customers put on their services. Being close to that problem excites me, and that’s just what this opportunity with Monotype represents. We’re going to be working with some of smartest people I’ve met on a broad range of tools and services that cross the boundaries of two fields of design I hold dear: web design and typography. What could be better than that?
Five Simple Steps will also be closing its doors. For five years, Emma and I have been accidental publishers and, together with the team here, and some talented authors, have produced many practical and influential books. Those books aren’t going away, though. As of today, Five Simple Steps is ceasing to trade, but is giving those books back to the authors to distribute as they see fit. We’re also freely distributing our ePub template and process, to help people self-publish just like I did five years ago. And, today, I’m also giving away my book, Designing for the Web. You can freely download it in PDF, ePub and Kindle (.mobi) formats.
Our responsive grid application, Gridset, is currently being considered as how it can sit alongside Monotype’s Typecast product. Since both services launched, I’ve lost count of the amount of people who use the two together and asked us to integrate somehow.
The last eight years has been quite a ride, but as I said, it’s time for a change. And, for me, a great change at that. The team here at Mark Boulton Design will still be working with me. We’ll still be contributing to the community the best way we can. I’ll still be harping on about something or other on Twitter.
Today marks the closing of one chapter and the beginning of another. It’s the part in any story that I love the most, because, to my mind, it’s the best bit.
Creating moodboards is something I was taught from a very early age. In primary school, they were a simple mixed-media way of expressing a form of an idea.
The thing I find interesting about mood boards is not the end-result, but the process of creation. Watching my children make posters from torn up bits of newspaper and magazines is really no different to watching my clients do it. Similar to watching other activities – such as affinity sorting, or depth interviewing – it’s the listening that I find interesting. Every moodboard tells a story, and as a designer, listening to your clients tell that story when they make them can be very insightful.
Making moodboards for you, not for me.
I have to be honest, I don’t make moodboards for myself. Not physical ones anyway. When I familiarise myself with a brand, or make some suggestions for design context, I always try to place those things in a context the client understands. This is where design visuals are important. They are almost unsurpassed in their immediacy of understanding for a client because they show the design in context. Of course, replace that with a high fidelity prototype, and you get the same thing. But, I want to step back a little here, as to when I find creating moodboards valuable.
Let me ask you a question: how many times have you heard this from a client?
‘I’m not so sure I think the design is heading in the right direction’. ‘It needs more pop’. ‘It’s just not us’.
These are all because a client cannot communicate about design at the same level we do. So, it’s abstract. Either that, or:
‘I don’t like that green’. ‘That button is great! But, it needs more pop’. ‘The logo needs to be bigger’.
Then things get subjective and extremely detailed. Why? Because these are approachable things people can comment on. More often than not, these comments are a failing that should rest firmly on our shoulders. We need to give our clients the words and understanding to express their thoughts. Either that, or we tease out these issues earlier in the process, in a way that is abstracted from the design work that will come later. This is where I feel collaborative moodboards work extremely well.
So, why would want to try and run one of these sessions?
When a client’s brand is repositioning, sometimes we’re brought in very early on the back of a strategy. No tactical work as been done. So, it’s up to us to navigate the waters of implementing the branding strategy. Making design work on the back of a few bullet points in a slide deck can be challenging.
Usually in a discover process, I will get a few red flags from speaking with a client. Generally these come through when talking about competitors, or things they like.
When I get conflicting stories from different stakeholders. The homepage team has a completely different view on the branding than the marketing team.
When branding needs evolving. A lot of organisations have mature branding collateral for print and advertising. Not so much for web (still!), so these are useful exercises to start to tease out differences or how they can align to the web in future.
I’m sure there are more, but those are few I can think of off the top of my head for now.
How to run a collaborative moodboard session
Get the stakeholders in a room. 3-4 is ideal. 9 is way too many.
Bring with you lots of magazines, newspapers, flyers – just physical paper stuff – that you can all cut up.
Glue. Lots of glue. One tub each.
Large (A1) pieces of paper.
The thing about this that I find interesting from a people-watching/behaviour perspective, is that the act of cutting things up and sticking them down is something that most of these people wouldn’t have done since school. The process involves collaborating, getting stuck-in and discussing the work. I find it a great leveller for the client team (hierarchy quickly disappears), and a very good ice breaker.
You set the brief for the morning/afternoon (all day is generally too long for the making part of this process). The idea is to find content that communicates part of the visual story of the product – and that could be anything:colour, type, texture, image – and stick it down.
For the agency team, it’s our job to ask questions throughout the day. To tease out the insights as people are in the moment of choice – before they’ve had chance to post-rationalise. And you know what? Answers like: ‘I just really like this green’ are great, because our next question is ‘Why?’ and it forces rationale. Without us being there, and asking that, almost always post-rationalising and ‘business stuff’ gets in the way of finding the truth behind those choices.
Quite often, just like cave paintings, moodboards are an artefact of a conversation. We often discard them from this point because they have served their purpose. We have the insights. The marketing team are best buddies with the homepage team. We all heading in the same direction.
So, next time you start a project and you need some steer on branding, or reconciling differences of opinion on a client team, try collaborative moodboarding as a way of coming together to try and solve the problem.
In 2010, I attended An Event Apart in Seattle. During that show, I saw three or four presentations – from Eric Meyer, Dan Cederholm, Jeremy, and of course, Ethan. All of them, independently, talked about how using media queries and CSS we could change the content using a fluid layout. It was a perfect storm, and indicative of the thinking that led Ethan to write – and A Book Apart to publish – Responsive Web Design a year later. The rest, they say, is history.
Responsive Web Design had a simple formula: fluid grids, media queries and flexible images. Put them all together, and your web product will be responsive. As Jeffrey said:
If Ethan hadn’t included three simple executional requirements as part of his definition, the concept might have quickly fallen by the wayside, as previous insights into the fluid nature of the web have done. The simplicity, elegance, and completeness of the package—here’s why, and here’s how—sold the idea to thousands of designers and developers, whose work and advocacy in turn sold it to hundreds of thousands more. This wouldn’t have happened if Ethan had promoted a more amorphous notion. Our world wouldn’t have changed overnight if developers had had too much to think about. Cutting to the heart of things and keeping it simple was as powerful a creative act on Ethan’s part as the “discovery” of #RWD itself.
The idea of responsive design has taken a few years to go from cubicle to board room. But now it is a project requirement coming directly from there. For the past eighteen months, at Mark Boulton Design, we’ve seen it as a requirement on RFPs. And with that, it brings a whole other set of problems. Because what does it mean? Hence, we have to Define The Damn Thing all over again. And recently, to be honest with you, I’ve stopped doing it. Because, depending on who you speak to, responsive web design has come to mean everything and nothing.
There are some who see it as media queries, fluid grids and scalable images. There are those who see it as adaptive content, or smarter queries to the server to make better use of bandwidth available. There are those who just see it as web design.
Me? I think it’s just like Web 2.0. And AJAX. It’s just like Web Standards (although to a lesser extent) and exactly like HTML5 (in the minds of those of you who aren’t developers) and its rather splendid branding. Responsive design has grown into a term that represents change above all else. To me, responsive design is more about a change in the browser and device landscape. A change in how people consume content. A change in how we make things for the web. And responsive design is just the term to encapsulate that change in a nice, easy solution that can get sold to a board of directors worrying about their profit and loss.
‘Responsive design is forward-thinking and means it will work on a phone, and that’s where things are headed’.
We’ve heard this line time and time again over the past couple of years. You see, responsive design is a useful term and one that will stick around for a while whilst we’re going through this change. How else do we describe it, otherwise? Web design? I don’t think so. No board member is going to get behind that; it’s not new enough.
I’ve had a few people ask me recently about how we work at Mark Boulton Design. And, the truth be told, it slightly differs from project to project, from client to client. But the main point is that we work in an iterative way with prototypes at the heart of our work every step of the way.
Work from facts AND your intuition
We always start by trying to understand the problem: the users of the website or product, the organisation on their customer strategy, the goals and needs of the project, who’s in charge and who isn’t. There’s a lot to take in on those early meetings with a client. One of the first things we do is to try and put in place some kind of research plan: what do we need to know, and how are we going to get it.
This could be as simple as running some face to face interviews with existing or potential customers coupled with a new survey. Of course, good research should provide some data to a problem, not just ‘what do you think of our website?’. Emma has written some good, quick methods for doing this yourself.
We couple that with trying to extract the scope from the client. I say that because, half the time, we’re given a briefing document – or something similar – and most of the time that document hasn’t been written for us. It’s been written for internal management to sign off on the budget of the project. So, rather than ask for a new document, we run a couple of workshops to tease out those problems:
User story workshop
This workshop is designed to tease out the scope of the project – everything we can think of. We ask the client to write user stories describing the product. Nothing is off the table at this point and our aim is to exhaust the possibilities.
Persona / user modelling workshop
Personas have been called bullshit in UX circles for years now. Some say they pay lip-service to a process, or they’re ignored by organisations. Whatever. I think, sometimes, something like personas are useful for putting a face to that big, amorphous blob of a customer group. Maybe that’s just a set of indicative behaviours or maybe a lightweight pen-portrait of an archetypical user. The tool is not the important thing here, but how you can use something to help people think of other people. To help an organisation to think of their customers, or designers to think of the audience they’re designing for, or the CEO to think in terms of someone’s disability rather than the P&L.
What I find generally useful about running a workshop like this is that it exposes weaknesses in an organisation. If a client pays lip-service to a customer-centric approach, it will soon become very evident in a meeting like this that that’s what’s going on.
This is a vital workshop for me. As a design lead on a project, I need to understand the tone of a company. From the way it talks about itself, through to the corporate guidelines. But, my experience is, that’s only half the story if you’re lucky. So much of a brand is a shared, consensual understanding in an organisation. Quite a lot of that can go un-said. This workshop is, again, about teasing out those opinions, views and arguments.
The first three workshops have the added bonus of finding out who runs the show in an organisation. I make it my business to find out – and get on side – the following people:
The founders / CEO. This should be a given.
The people with a loud mouth. It’s useful to find the people who have a loud voice and get them around to our way of thinking. Then they can shout about our work internally.
The people with influence. Sometimes, these are the quiet, unassuming people, but they carry great sway. If we want things done, these people need to be our friends.
That’s quite a lot of people to keep happy, but if we get these three groups on side, we find projects run a lot smoother.
Prototype your UX strategy
Leisa gave a great talk at last year’s Generate conference in London about prototyping your UX strategy. The crux of this was it is way more efficient to demonstrate your thinking and design, than it is to talk about it. If you can quickly make something, test it, iterate a bit, and then present it, then you can massive gains to cutting down on procrastination and cutting through organisation politics like a hot knife through butter. Showing that something works is infinitely more preferable to me than arguing about whether something would work or not.
Wherever possible, we’ve been making prototypes in HTML. It gives us something tangible and portable to work with. We can put it in front of users, show a CEO on their mobile device to demonstrate something.
The right tool at the right time
I’ve spoken before about designing in the browser, or designing in Photoshop, or on pencil, or whatever. Frankly, we try to use the most appropriate tool at the right time. Sometimes that’s a browser, but a client may respond dreadfully to that because they’re are used to seeing work presented to them in a completely different way. Then, we change tack and do something else. My feeling is the best design tool you can use is the one that requires the least amount of work to use: be it a pencil, Photoshop or HTML.
agile not Agile
I feel that design is a naturally iterative process. We make things and then fix things as we go. Commercial design, though, has to be paid for. And so, in the 1950’s, the Ad industry imposed limits to this iteration – ’you have three changes, then you must sign off on this creative’. Of course, I can understand this thinking; you can’t just get a blank cheque for as many iterations as you like for a project until something does (or does not) work. But, what we gain in commercial control, I’ve found we’ve definitely lost in design quality. It takes time to make useful, beautiful things.
So, from about 2009, Mark Boulton Design have been working in the following way:
We work in sprints that are two weeks long. We never have a deadline on a Friday. Sprints run from Monday to Monday, with a release end of play Monday.
‘Releases’ are output. Sometimes code. Sometimes research. Sometimes design visuals.
We front-load research into a discovery sprint. This is to get a head-start and give the designers (and clients) some of the facts to work around. Organising, running and feeding back on research takes time.
Together with the client, we capture the scope of the project with user stories. These are not typical Agile user stories – for example, we don’t find estimating complexity and points, useful in our process – but they are small, user-centred sentences that describe a core piece of the product. It could be a need, or a bit of functionality, or a piece of research data. The key point here is, for us, they are points of discussion that are small and focussed. This helps keeps us arrow-straight when we prioritise them sprint on sprint.
We conduct research each sprint if it’s required. This is determined by the priorities for that sprint. For example, if the priority for the sprint is focussed on aesthetics, or typography, or browser testing, then usability testing is not going to be of much use for those.
And now for some of the commercial considerations:
Contracts are most often fixed-price, but broken down into sprints. Each sprint has an identical price.
We bill as we go. The client pays a degree up-front, and that is then factored into cost of each sprint.
We explain to prospective clients how we work: each sprint, we work on agreed priorities, with no detailed functional spec to work against.
Points. In the past, we’ve worked on Agile agreements where we would be delivering against agreed estimated points. This was to see if we could make web development agile work in a project environment. It didn’t. We found we were delivering to the points, rather than to the project. Plus, if we didn’t hit the points for that sprint, we were penalised financially.
Coaching our clients through this process is as challenging as coaching through clients of a responsive design project. When the project is in the early-mid messy stages – when client preconceptions are being challenged, the prototype is not being received well by users – it takes a strong partnership to push through it. Design is messy. Iteration, by it’s very nature, is about failing to some degree or another. Everyone has to get used to that feeling of things not working out the way they first thought.
The sticky end. When we get to the final stages of a project, we should be in a good place. The highest priority items should be addressed, we will have buy in and sign off from the right people and we should be focussed on low priority features. But sometimes, that’s not the case. Sometimes, we’ve got high priority things left over which are critical. And that’s the time when we have to go back to the client and discuss how these need to be addressed. Sometimes that’s an extra sprint or two. Sometimes it’s an entirely new contract.
What we don’t do from ‘Agile’
We don’t do:
Estimating tasks. We don’t assign time to design tasks. In our studio, work just doesn’t happen that way. Generally, things are a bit more holistic.
Tracking velocity. For the same reason above, if we’re not measuring delivering against user stories in a numeric way, we can’t track our velocity.
Retrospectives. We don’t run traditional retrospectives on sprints. Maybe this is more a symptom of a close, high-communication level of our team. We’re talking all the time anyway. We have found that retrospectives have been a useful forum for clients to feed back on how they’re feeling about progress in the past, but this has felt like a somewhat forced environment to do it. So, recently, we have points of checking in with a client to see how they’re feeling about things.
So, that’s about it. A whistle-stop tour of how we like to work. As much as possible, we’ve tried to tailor our process to what works for us, built on some useful structures that agile gives us. I guess the most important thing for us is that we’re not wedded to our processes at all. We regularly shift focus, or the way we work, to meet the needs of particular clients or projects. Just as long as we align those processes to how design naturally happens, then I’m happy.
Being nominated in these awards is like a nice pat on the back for all the hard work my team do. From trying to help communicate one of human-kinds most important discoveries, to building a tool to help us make websites a little bit easier, to making books for our community. It makes the nomination for Agency of the year, for the second time, that little bit more special.
Last week, I was up in London visiting a client when I heard that another project of ours was to be launched shortly. It was part of a project we’ve been working on for just over three years: the global design language for Al Jazeera Network digital, with the first two products being launched in Turkey and a beta of the Arabic news channel.
There is so much to talk about on a project of this scale. Here are just a few highlights:
Spending time with journalists and the newsroom to understand how news is reported.
Working with Al Jazeera during the Arab Spring; from the uprising in Egypt to Libya.
Course-correcting throughout the project. Responsive Design wasn’t really a thing three years ago.
Designing in four languages – Arabic, English, Turkish and Slavic – when the MBD team primarily speaks one.
Adopting an Object Oriented approach from content through to code. Modular, transferrable and scalable. It required a level of detailed thought right down to how content types were defined in the CMS.
Working with three development partners across three independent content management systems.
I could go on and on. And I probably will at some point. Needless to say, none of the above could achieved without a patient, smart and agile client-side team. Good job the Al Jazeera team are just that.
There are many buzz words you could label this project with: content-first, responsive, atomic, OOCSS. Again, I could go on. But the one thing that was first, central and always through prototyping and early strategy was good research. It was a research-first project. That probably won’t come as a surprise to some of you given we have our own in-house researcher, Emma. What may come as a surprise, however, is the degree in which that early research led approach laid the foundation for a fundamental shift in how Al Jazeera thought about their content.
Many news journalists think of their content as a few distinct types:
Rolling news: Typically taken straight from the wire and edited over time to fit the growing needs of the story.
Editorial: Longer form piece. Still highly topical and timely.
Op-ed: Opinion piece from a named author.
Feature: A story. With a beginning, a middle and an end. Long-form content, and not necessarily timely.
These can all be mapped to timeliness; both in terms of how long they take to create and their editorial time-life. The more timely a piece, the shorter it takes to create and the shorter the shelf-life.
Rolling news: timely, short shelf-life.
Editorial: timely, long-form, short to mid shelf-life.
Op-ed: Long-form, mid shelf-life.
feature: Long-form, long shelf-life.
Publication schedules are often focussed around this creation with journalists having several pieces of the different types in various degrees of completion to various deadlines focussed on different stories. This is a comfortable mental model, one that newspapers have been arranged around for decades. But it isn’t necessarily how users of websites look for content. Users will not typically look for a type of content, but will look for a context of a story first: the topic.
The new information architecture of the Al Jazeera platform has been built around a topic-first approach. But also, the modular content and design allows for the rapid changing of display of the news as a topic or news story moves through the various content types. It’s a design system, connected to a CMS that accommodates what news naturally does. It changes.
The Design System
The whole platform is built on top of Gridset using modular design principles. The content is modular and multifaceted, designed for re-use, as is the design. For years now at Mark Boulton Design, we’ve not designed websites, but an underpinning design system with naming conventions, rules, patterns. This is particularly useful when many CMS software thinks of content objects in this way. Our systematic thinking can applied all the way through CMS integration. Software engineers love designers giving them rules.
It’s funny, we seem to have just discovered this in web design, but many other design disciplines have been approaching their work in this way for decades. Some for centuries. Take typography, for example. The design process of creating a typographic design is systematic thinking at its purest. Designing heading hierarchies and the constituent parts of written language can be approached in an abstracted way. This is exactly the right approach when designing for other languages.
Arabic has obvious challenges for an English-speaker. Not only is it written right to left, but the glyphs are non-roman. To approach this as a English-speaker, we needed to create tools and process to help. Words no longer look like words, but shapes of words. Page designs no longer look like familiar blocks of text, type hierarchy and colour. We saw form more than we saw function.
Just the start
Three years is a long time to work on a project. I’m so delighted to finally see the design system in the wild. For such a long time, we only saw it in prototype form, but you can only take prototypes so far. We needed to pressure-test content types, see where it breaks, adjust a hundred and one small details to make it work. All of this just underpins the fact that now the system is being rolled out, there needs to be changes made every day to evolve the system. This is the web after-all. It’s a feature, not a bug.
2013 brought with it more work in and amongst editorial processes for Mark Boulton Design. And with it, some challenges designing systems that can react to the speed of the story.
News happens quickly and therefore needs to be captured quickly. This is why news organisations have latched onto the immediacy of publishing platforms like Twitter, blogs, Instagram and the like. The flow from story to pixel is dramatically reduced compared to incombant editorial processes. Sure, journalists will cry of the death of proper journalism; story-telling will suffer at the hands of snippets of information drip-fed to hungry millenials. We’ve all heard the horror stories. The truth is that these services allow for a story to happen in near real-time, and as such, the emphasis on an editor’s work is no longer writing, but on guiding, the story. Creating connections between content to build a bigger picture in the reader’s mind, but, certainly, in a near-live environment, many news organisations are not authoring this content; it’s being created elsewhere by other people.
I’ve had a long-standing professional interest in content management systems. I’ve designed a few along the way, and almost without exception, the project has started as a software design project, and ended up a process design problem. The problems lie with people, not with user interfaces or technology.
So much has changed in the ‘electronic publishing’ landscape in the last year. For every month of 2013 there was a hot new writing application, hip new publishing platform or collaboration silver bullet for writers, newsrooms and media organisation to run through the mill. Tools and applications for content publishing had matured in such a short period of time, individually they lacked the cross workflow power to be of complete use to a newsroom like The Guardian’s, but collectively it was starting to look a lot more interesting.
He goes on to say:
The software requirements for a modern, paper producing newsroom, are vast. The needs of the newsroom are increasingly difficult to define due to the nuances in production processes across desks, publications and offices, a moving target that is getting faster by the day.
In my experience, the faster and more important a story was, the less likely it was to follow established processes – especially where convoluted and difficulty to use software was concerned. It quickly devolved into Post-it Notes, hushed whispers and hurried editing. News journalists are human, and sometimes the speed of the story is just too fast for software. It gets in the way.
Given the change in how this type of content is created, curated, edited, processed and published, more and more organisations are finding they need new tools. New content management systems to help solve their publishing problems. My fear is, they’re looking in the wrong place.
Last year, I spoke at Handheld conference about how content is created over time. How a story moves from being a snowflake to a snowball; gathering pace, other content, debris. Before an editor knows it, the story is no longer a page, but a bunch of different things: links, images, words, video, other articles, tweets, blog posts. The list goes on. But they all share two things in common: the topic of the story, and the link between them. This is where I feel we need to focus our attention.
The hyperlink is at the very core of what the web is: an interconnected hyperlinked bunch of resources. The hyperlink is everything to the web, yet it is the thing we take the least care of. URLs die. Links rot. This isn’t a post about digital preservation, or a rant about how we should be taking care of these links for future generations, but that we should be taking care of them now!. As I hope I’ve demonstrated, the link between content is going to become increasingly important as we create more fragmented and modular content for display in multiple contexts. If we don’t look after these links, the story will be lost. Because the story isn’t a page anymore. The story is the link.
Modern content management systems should be focussed on exposing links between content. Making it easy for editors and journalists to make connections between things and not just when a story is created; stories live over many days, weeks, months or years. Modern content management systems should allow for constant editorial iteration and creation by showing the links between things.
It’s interesting to me to see this happen in a parallel industry. Just as designers and developers are struggling to adapt to the increasingly rapid changing web, writers and journalists are, too. Creating news content for the web is no longer about writing a page and hitting publish. It requires a fastidious approach to content curation over a longer period of time. It means being where your readers are; Twitter, Facebook, the TV. It requires pulling together all the various fragments of a story into a cohesive narrative. Now, does that sound like your CMS is designed to help? No. I thought not.
I was going to do a usual year-end wrap up for this blog post as I have done in previous years. But, as it’s the start of the new year already, I thought set my stall out for the coming year. What do I want to do, rather than what have a just done.
A couple of days ago, I was reminded of a video I watched a while ago about Free Enterprise via my friend Andy Rutledge.
“Don’t Eat Your Dog: The Surprising Moral Case for Free Enterprise. Based on his best-selling book “The Road to Freedom,” AEI President Arthur C. Brooks explains how we can win the fight for free enterprise by articulating what’s written on our hearts.”
I’m always interested in how other country’s politics, viewpoints and economics work, and this was no exception. Rather than to bat down things like capitalism, I’m making a concerted effort to understand the nuance in such things.
As someone who runs a design studio, a publishing company and a web-based design tool, you could count me in the group of people who work hard for what I get. And I’m rewarded for that. I don’t expect a free ride. I don’t expect anything beyond the realms of what is offered in the country I live in (such as state health care and education etc. In fact, I pay for that through my taxes – the NHS is not free). But before I disappear into a politics hole, I want to bring this back to design.
Running a design company, we charge clients for the work we do and for the customers who use our products and buy our books. In doing so, we create jobs, and more tax revenue for the government. But one thing I don’t agree with from the video above is that what i’m doing is a purely selfish exercise. I’m not just doing business to pay the bills, design great products for clients, and give people work to do. To me, there is more to making things than just making things.
I believe my job is not only about doing work for clients but that I have a social responsibility to make the world a better place through the work I do. Design is a powerful tool to affect social change. However small.
Let me give you an example.
You’re out for a walk at lunchtime. You come at a road crossing and there is a family by your side waiting to cross the road. The crossing indicator is counting down the seconds, but you spot a small gap in the traffic for you to cross. You just skip across the road, running in between cars and carry on. The family is left waiting for a safe gap in the traffic.
Think that what you did was fine? It was safe for you to cross. No problem.
Do you think that you should’ve waited next to the family to build upon the good example the parents were trying to show to their small children that they should wait for a safe gap in the traffic to cross?
It’s a small but important thing. And this is social responsibility. A responsibility to help the community around you, and not through just helping yourself. Next time you take on a design project, just stop for a second and think:
“beyond getting paid for this, and making my client’s business better, what is the benefit in doing this work? What is the social good?”
In addition to the work itself, ask them if you could blog about the process, or speak about the work at a conference. If it’s something you really believe in, could you offer do it pro-bono, or heavily discounted? Could you open source the code produced? How about aspects of the design – such as icons? Could you have one of their team members sit with your team for the whole project to soak up your skills? How could you benefit the web design and development community and still get paid well?
We’re in an incredibly fortunate position as designers to create change in the world. Many people can’t. Or simply won’t. Through our products, our work, and how we talk about it, we can have a much greater benefit to society that just lining our pockets.
This is exactly what I plan on doing in 2014. Happy New Year!
One of the first little typesetting trips I was taught – in my internship at an advertising agency – all those years ago, was how to make text fit within a given space, but still read well. This involved a dance of hyphenation, letter-spacing, leading and type-size. But a crucial ingredient of this recipe was the soft-return.
Scanning a piece of text I was looking for certain criteria – or violations – that needed a soft-return (or, in Quark XPress, shift-return). Using those violations, I would typeset the right-rag of the piece of text, and then use hyphenation, and what-not, to tease the rag into as smooth a line as possible. All whilst ensuring the content was pleasurable to read. In a perverse kind of way, I always enjoyed this part of the typesetting process.
My article on 24ways is about how we can apply this thinking to the web, where the inherent lack of control on the medium means we have to apply things in a slightly different (read: clumsy) way.
Emma read the article this morning and pretty much summed up the way I feel when I read text sometimes.
“Another article by @markboulton which gives me a glimpse into how broken the world looks through his eyes” – Emma Boulton
Just like a musician listens to music, I view text in a different way to most people. I just forget that I do it most of the time.
I can hardly believe that 24ways has been running since 2005. In the web years, that’s like 72 years ago. It’s a credit to Drew, Brian, Anna, and Owen. It’s not easy running this year in, year out, on a daily publishing schedule for a month. Hours and hours of work go into this, and we should all be thankful for their time and effort. Oh, and let’s not forget Paul, who has given 24ways a lovely redesign this year (you can read more about that on his blog)