Published on | Prototyping: From UX to Front End — Medium Darrin Henein

Like many designers, I started my career as a freelance consultant, doing primarily contract work for a small handful of clients. I’m going to come back to this fact shortly, but for now all you need to know is that eventually that chapter of my career came to a close, and I started seeking new opportunities to further my experience as a designer. This meant a few weeks updating my portfolio, updating my resume, and applying to job postings found everywhere from LinkedIn to Craigslist.

Before long I had a few interviews lined up. Overdressed and overexcited, I actually started to enjoy this process. I was fortunate to meet many really interesting people, hear about some fascinating businesses, and most importantly was given the chance to ask questions of them: “How did you get started in design? What did you study in school? Where should I focus my learning next? What makes a good designer?”

The experience of interviewing was an opportunity to share my experience and learn from the person I was speaking with. It eventually led to a job offer — my first full-time, bona fide design job.

This particular company was in the midst of growth. Before long I was asked to interview some candidates for a role on our growing design team. I thought to myself — “Sure, perfect, I’ve been in tons of interviews and actually really enjoy them! No problem boss, I got this.”

I had 60 minutes scheduled with one of the first candidates, and it went precisely like this: after the requisite pleasantries (“How’s your week been?”), I started diving into some of the topics on my list. We went back and forth, meandering from question to question. “That’s great, thanks, these are really insightful answers.” I nodded along as the candidate succinctly answered the last one I had prepared. I was nervous, certainly, but thought the discussion was going well and I was getting a good grasp of this candidate’s experience level. I thought this might be a good time to wrap things up and thank them for their time.

When I could next steal a moment, I glanced at my watch — just under 15 minutes had expired. And it was in that very moment, awkward silence and all, that I realized: I had no clue what I was doing.

Now you may be wondering how something as simple as interviewing a candidate can be so difficult, but I assure you: it’s precisely these parts of our jobs (and lives!) that seem so simple, so effortless on the surface, that in fact have the most depth to them and which need the most practiced technique and method to truly perform well. Acclaimed science-fiction writer Ursula K. Le Guin elegantly puts it:

I think a life or a time looks simple when you leave out the details.

I had done exactly this: perceived the act of interviewing — of accurately assessing and comprehending an individual’s fitness and qualification for an inherently complex role in less than an hour — as simple, because I neglected these details. The experience of discovering such depth beneath a seemingly simple activity has shaped how I now approach other common tasks. It’s through this lens that I’ve come to believe that the practice of design critique is another of these skills. Without the requisite understanding of technique and method — when critique is practiced “simply” — critique loses much of its effectiveness.

With this understanding, we can jump into some practical ways to approach design critique. Design critique is primarily about how we assess and talk about design, which is something we actually (hopefully!) do quite often in our jobs — the difference is that we must apply a lens of critical thinking to this discourse.

What Critique Isn’t

As mentioned, the early stages of my career were spent as a freelancer, working primarily on my own from my bedroom in my parent’s house. Almost all of the feedback I was receiving was from clients. They were well-intentioned, but when it came to talking about design they did so simply. Their feedback about my work was pretty simple and basic. In the book Discussing Design, Aaron Irizarry and Adam Connor break feedback into three categories: reactive, directive, and critique. Perhaps obviously, feedback of the first two forms are not what they’d consider effective design critique.

“I don’t like it.”

“Can you just make the logo a bit bigger?”

I think we can all relate to these flavors of feedback. While (possibly) oversimplified examples, these embody what is meant by reactive or directive feedback (respectively). This feedback can come from many places: an emotional response, an adverse reaction to change, or even a misplaced attempt to “contribute” to the design process. While in some cases this type of feedback might be fair, or even right, they do not fit the accepted definition of critique, which we’ll get into next.

A cautionary note regarding reactive or directive feedback: use your best discretion when considering whether or not to incorporate this type of feedback back into your work. Sometimes it will seem like the easy route — you know by making these changes your design will get signed-off and you can move on and get paid — but be weary of feedback that only serves the objective of approval. Feedback just to get approval — a checklist of changes to please a client or stakeholder — is not critique and rarely makes your work better.

Critique as Critical Thinking

So what do we mean by critique? A common general definition is “an analytical evaluation of a theory or practice.” Design is about problem-solving, about strategically addressing and solving the needs of humans. Any design work must be constantly measured against these goals — evaluated — and critique is one tool that helps us do just that. To paraphrase Connor and Irizarry, we can be more specific when we refer to design critique: applying critical thinking to a design in order to evaluate its expected effectiveness against a set of goals. Or more simply: “how well does this do what it’s trying to do?” These goals can take many forms: quantitative changes to metrics or success rates, or something as nebulous as leaving a user feeling confident or delighted. Discussing Design also reminds us that this shift from creative thinking to analytical thinking happens frequently during the creative process. Picture the painter who (quite literally!) steps back from their work to evaluate and asses their progress. Is is evoking the right emotion, or expressing the right idea? Have the small changes I’ve introduced made the system better? This is the artist asking themselves: do I expect this work in its current state to achieve its goals? If not, why?

Why Practice Design Critique

The simplest answer is that it will make you a better designer. Good designers recognize that they need feedback from a variety of perspectives to build the best experience for their users. Communication is also a significant part of a designer’s role — so embrace any opportunity to practice. So much of what we do through design is communicate: both with end-users and internal stakeholders. The ability to clearly articulate an idea actually shows that you fully understand it. Clear explanations are evidence of deep and thoughtful consideration. Often articulating the problem you’re trying to solve helps you find the solution, as you are forced to re-iterate basic assumptions and break complex pieces into smaller chunks. Just ask the ducks.

As a team, there is even a secret bonus benefit: design critique gets you and your peers talking about design frequently and regularly. This alone has many positive outcomes, such as building rapport within the group and the development of a shared language. Shared language refers to the vocabulary and values that help facilitate efficient and productive conversation. It’s how you and your longtime friend seem to just “get” each other: the words and way you converse has naturally evolved to optimize those communications. Shared language is a studied phenomenon that most would consider vital to successful collaboration — so seems worth pursuing in any team.

Critique teaches us to articulate our decisions, to rationalize our compromises and speak honestly about the strengths and weaknesses of our work.

Hopefully you are beginning to see the value intentional critique can bring to your team and your work. I’ve outlined a number of techniques and tools you can use to Prepare, Present and Participate in critique in whatever role you find the need for it.

This is the introduction of a larger guide, which you can continue reading here.

Practical Design Critique: An Introduction was originally published in prototypr on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Practical Design Critique: An Introduction

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