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June 28, 2026

7 min read

Five Directions in Contemporary Design

Social, digital, speculative, sustainable and future-facing design: where the field has gone since postmodernism, and what each asks of you.

Postmodernism left designers with a strange kind of freedom. Once you accept that there's no single correct style, you can do anything. Which raises the obvious next question: fine, but why are you doing it?

That's roughly where contemporary design lives. It's defined less by a look than by what the work is for. Five directions stand out, and most working designers end up somewhere between two or three of them.

1. Social design: taking a side

While David Carson was breaking legibility in the 1990s, other designers were breaking rules for ideological reasons.

Tibor Kalman (1949 to 1999) believed design should make people think, and sometimes make them uncomfortable. His New York studio, M&Co, founded in 1979, did editorial and identity work with real attitude, for clients like the restaurant Florent and Interview magazine. In 1991 he became the founding editor of Colors, a magazine published by Benetton, and ran it until 1995. It covered race, AIDS, war and immigration with documentary photography, and the design served the content instead of the brand.

Oliviero Toscani, the photographer behind Benetton's advertising from the 1980s to 2000, took the idea further and turned advertising itself into social commentary. Under the "United Colors of Benetton" banner, his campaigns tackled racism, AIDS, war and the death penalty.

They also left an ethical question that still doesn't have a clean answer. Is it acceptable to use real suffering to sell sweaters? Critics called it exploitation. Defenders said it forced taboo subjects into public conversation. Both things can be true at once.

Manifestos

Designers have a long habit of writing down where they stand:

  • First Things First (1964), written by Ken Garland and signed by a group of British designers, called for putting design skills toward useful work instead of trivial advertising. It was renewed in 2000 and again in 2020.
  • Dieter Rams's ten principles of good design, written while he was head of design at Braun, are still quoted in almost every product team.
  • Bruce Mau's "Incomplete Manifesto for Growth" (1998) is less about ethics and more about how to keep a creative practice alive.

Manifestos look good on a wall. The real test is personal: which projects do you accept, how do you represent people, which stories do you help spread, and who actually benefits?

2. Digital design: the alphabet and the screen

The computer didn't just replace the designer's tools. It changed what design could reach and how it could behave.

The type designers

  • Zuzana Licko, co-founder of Emigre, designed early typefaces like Oakland (1985) and Matrix (1986) around the coarse bitmaps of early screens and printers. Instead of fighting the pixel, she designed with it.
  • Erik Spiekermann designed FF Meta (1991), co-founded the FontShop type distributor, and co-wrote Stop Stealing Sheep & Find Out How Type Works (1993), still one of the friendliest introductions to typography.
  • Tobias Frere-Jones drew Interstate (1993), based on US highway signage, Whitney (1996) for the Whitney Museum, and Gotham (2000), which became the face of countless identities, including Barack Obama's 2008 campaign.

Concept first

In the 1990s, designers like Stefan Sagmeister, Paula Scher and Chip Kidd showed that the idea could matter more than visual polish. Narrative, experimentation with media, and a free mix of high and low culture became the point. Kidd's cover for Jurassic Park (1990) is a good example: one skeletal dinosaur, and you already know the book.

The web

Early websites in the 1990s were built with basic HTML, table layouts and animated GIFs. Then came CSS, the code that controls how things look (color, spacing, size), which separated structure from presentation and made more sophisticated layout possible. Flash had a long, flashy run before browsers dropped it. In 2010 Ethan Marcotte named responsive web design: one layout that adapts to any screen. Apps and mobile interfaces followed.

Designers like Joshua Davis, Yugo Nakamura and John Maeda explored the space where design, programming and generative art overlap, and proved that code could be a legitimate creative material.

3. Experimental and speculative design: asking "what if?"

What if design stopped solving today's problems and started exploring other possible worlds?

Speculative design, associated above all with Anthony Dunne and Fiona Raby, uses fictional products, services and scenarios to provoke debate about where technology and society are heading. The objects aren't meant to be sold. They're meant to make you ask whether you want that future.

On the practical end of the same spectrum sits service design: designing whole experiences and systems instead of single objects, with multiple touchpoints and the people who use them involved in the process. Transport apps, health systems and museum visits are all services someone designed, well or badly.

Around both sits a growing body of design for urgent problems: climate change, inequality, migration, pandemics and misinformation.

Underneath all of it is the idea that design is political. Several current approaches take that seriously:

  • Inclusive design: designing for real human diversity, not only for people with perfect sight, hearing and mobility. Diversity is the norm, not the edge case.
  • Decolonial design: questioning the assumption that European and North American design is the default.
  • Feminist design: bringing in perspectives that were historically left out.
  • Sustainable design: reducing environmental harm.

Four questions worth asking about any project: who benefits, what values it promotes, whose voices it amplifies or silences, and what it does to the environment.

4. Sustainable and local design: back to the ground

Sustainable design looks at environmental and social impact across the whole life of a thing: reducing, reusing and recycling, low-impact materials, local production, longevity and honesty about all of it.

That last part matters because of greenwashing, marketing that looks sustainable without any real change behind it. A leaf icon and a green palette aren't a sustainability strategy. Real claims come with measurable changes to materials, processes or product life.

Graphic designers have concrete moves available: fewer inks, recycled stock, vegetable-based inks, lighter digital files. The Dutch Ecofont, a typeface punched with tiny holes so it uses less ink, is a small but memorable example.

Looking local

Sustainability also has a cultural side. For designers in Mexico, a few reference points:

  • Lance Wyman, an American designer, created the identity for the 1968 Mexico City Olympics with a team led by the architect Pedro Ramírez Vázquez, and the pictogram system for the Mexico City Metro, still in use. It remains one of the best examples of an identity that draws on local visual culture without turning it into a costume.
  • Alejandro Magallanes is known for his cultural posters, illustration and books, with a strongly personal visual voice.

The hard questions here are local ones. How do we design our own identity? Whose stories do we tell? And when we borrow from traditional or Indigenous visual culture, are we honoring it or appropriating it?

5. The future: tools, AI and circularity

Generative design

In generative design, the designer sets rules and parameters and an algorithm produces variations. That makes dynamic identities, variable typography and mass customization possible. Tools include Processing and p5.js (code as a design tool), TouchDesigner for real-time visuals, and Grasshopper with Rhino for parametric form. Variable fonts (introduced in 2016) let one font file hold a whole range of weights and widths.

AI

AI image and text tools speed up ideation and prototyping, and they raise real problems: who is the author of an AI-generated design, whose work was used to train the model, what biases the training data carries, and whether designers lose skills and critical judgment by leaning on it. Positions tend to fall into four camps:

  • Optimists: AI frees designers from mechanical tasks.
  • Critics: it dehumanizes design and erodes craft.
  • Pragmatists: it's a tool, and it still needs human context and judgment.
  • Regulators: it needs ethical and legal standards.

The technology doesn't decide any of this on its own. What matters is who controls it, who benefits, and what gets lost when human decisions are translated into code.

Circular design

Circular design goes beyond "do less harm." The cradle to cradle idea (from William McDonough and Michael Braungart's 2002 book of the same name) treats waste as a nutrient: products designed to be taken apart and fed back into biological or technical cycles. For graphic designers, that translates into identities that work across contexts without constant reprinting, flexible and durable type systems, and packaging planned for its entire life.

What kind of designer do you want to be?

History doesn't give you one right path. It gives you options and their consequences. Arts & Crafts showed the value of craft in an industrial world. The Bauhaus tied good design to democratic access. The Swiss Style made rigor a value. New York made room for humanity and wit. Postmodernism taught us to question all of it.

The roles available today are just as varied: corporate designer working on strategy from inside the system, independent editorial designer, activist, researcher, educator, community designer, founder of your own alternatives. None of them is the "correct" one.

Try answering these in writing, one short paragraph each:

  • What values guide your design decisions?
  • Who do you really serve: the brand, the community, or both?
  • What's your relationship with technology: tool, partner, threat?
  • Where's your line? Which project would you turn down?

Your answers will change. Writing them down now gives you something to argue with later.

Further reading

  • Peter Hall and Michael Bierut, Tibor Kalman: Perverse Optimist (1998)
  • Victor Papanek, Design for the Real World (1971)
  • Anthony Dunne and Fiona Raby, Speculative Everything: Design, Fiction, and Social Dreaming (2013)
  • Sasha Costanza-Chock, Design Justice: Community-Led Practices to Build the Worlds We Need (2020)
  • Mike Monteiro, Ruined by Design: How Designers Destroyed the World, and What We Can Do to Fix It (2019)
  • William McDonough and Michael Braungart, Cradle to Cradle: Remaking the Way We Make Things (2002)

Articles

Menu

→ Home

Portfolio

Services

Links

About

Design history

June 28, 2026

·

7 min read

Five Directions in Contemporary Design

Social, digital, speculative, sustainable and future-facing design: where the field has gone since postmodernism, and what each asks of you.

Postmodernism left designers with a strange kind of freedom. Once you accept that there's no single correct style, you can do anything. Which raises the obvious next question: fine, but why are you doing it?

That's roughly where contemporary design lives. It's defined less by a look than by what the work is for. Five directions stand out, and most working designers end up somewhere between two or three of them.

1. Social design: taking a side

While David Carson was breaking legibility in the 1990s, other designers were breaking rules for ideological reasons.

Tibor Kalman (1949 to 1999) believed design should make people think, and sometimes make them uncomfortable. His New York studio, M&Co, founded in 1979, did editorial and identity work with real attitude, for clients like the restaurant Florent and Interview magazine. In 1991 he became the founding editor of Colors, a magazine published by Benetton, and ran it until 1995. It covered race, AIDS, war and immigration with documentary photography, and the design served the content instead of the brand.

Oliviero Toscani, the photographer behind Benetton's advertising from the 1980s to 2000, took the idea further and turned advertising itself into social commentary. Under the "United Colors of Benetton" banner, his campaigns tackled racism, AIDS, war and the death penalty.

They also left an ethical question that still doesn't have a clean answer. Is it acceptable to use real suffering to sell sweaters? Critics called it exploitation. Defenders said it forced taboo subjects into public conversation. Both things can be true at once.

Manifestos

Designers have a long habit of writing down where they stand:

  • First Things First (1964), written by Ken Garland and signed by a group of British designers, called for putting design skills toward useful work instead of trivial advertising. It was renewed in 2000 and again in 2020.
  • Dieter Rams's ten principles of good design, written while he was head of design at Braun, are still quoted in almost every product team.
  • Bruce Mau's "Incomplete Manifesto for Growth" (1998) is less about ethics and more about how to keep a creative practice alive.

Manifestos look good on a wall. The real test is personal: which projects do you accept, how do you represent people, which stories do you help spread, and who actually benefits?

2. Digital design: the alphabet and the screen

The computer didn't just replace the designer's tools. It changed what design could reach and how it could behave.

The type designers

  • Zuzana Licko, co-founder of Emigre, designed early typefaces like Oakland (1985) and Matrix (1986) around the coarse bitmaps of early screens and printers. Instead of fighting the pixel, she designed with it.
  • Erik Spiekermann designed FF Meta (1991), co-founded the FontShop type distributor, and co-wrote Stop Stealing Sheep & Find Out How Type Works (1993), still one of the friendliest introductions to typography.
  • Tobias Frere-Jones drew Interstate (1993), based on US highway signage, Whitney (1996) for the Whitney Museum, and Gotham (2000), which became the face of countless identities, including Barack Obama's 2008 campaign.

Concept first

In the 1990s, designers like Stefan Sagmeister, Paula Scher and Chip Kidd showed that the idea could matter more than visual polish. Narrative, experimentation with media, and a free mix of high and low culture became the point. Kidd's cover for Jurassic Park (1990) is a good example: one skeletal dinosaur, and you already know the book.

The web

Early websites in the 1990s were built with basic HTML, table layouts and animated GIFs. Then came CSS, the code that controls how things look (color, spacing, size), which separated structure from presentation and made more sophisticated layout possible. Flash had a long, flashy run before browsers dropped it. In 2010 Ethan Marcotte named responsive web design: one layout that adapts to any screen. Apps and mobile interfaces followed.

Designers like Joshua Davis, Yugo Nakamura and John Maeda explored the space where design, programming and generative art overlap, and proved that code could be a legitimate creative material.

3. Experimental and speculative design: asking "what if?"

What if design stopped solving today's problems and started exploring other possible worlds?

Speculative design, associated above all with Anthony Dunne and Fiona Raby, uses fictional products, services and scenarios to provoke debate about where technology and society are heading. The objects aren't meant to be sold. They're meant to make you ask whether you want that future.

On the practical end of the same spectrum sits service design: designing whole experiences and systems instead of single objects, with multiple touchpoints and the people who use them involved in the process. Transport apps, health systems and museum visits are all services someone designed, well or badly.

Around both sits a growing body of design for urgent problems: climate change, inequality, migration, pandemics and misinformation.

Underneath all of it is the idea that design is political. Several current approaches take that seriously:

  • Inclusive design: designing for real human diversity, not only for people with perfect sight, hearing and mobility. Diversity is the norm, not the edge case.
  • Decolonial design: questioning the assumption that European and North American design is the default.
  • Feminist design: bringing in perspectives that were historically left out.
  • Sustainable design: reducing environmental harm.

Four questions worth asking about any project: who benefits, what values it promotes, whose voices it amplifies or silences, and what it does to the environment.

4. Sustainable and local design: back to the ground

Sustainable design looks at environmental and social impact across the whole life of a thing: reducing, reusing and recycling, low-impact materials, local production, longevity and honesty about all of it.

That last part matters because of greenwashing, marketing that looks sustainable without any real change behind it. A leaf icon and a green palette aren't a sustainability strategy. Real claims come with measurable changes to materials, processes or product life.

Graphic designers have concrete moves available: fewer inks, recycled stock, vegetable-based inks, lighter digital files. The Dutch Ecofont, a typeface punched with tiny holes so it uses less ink, is a small but memorable example.

Looking local

Sustainability also has a cultural side. For designers in Mexico, a few reference points:

  • Lance Wyman, an American designer, created the identity for the 1968 Mexico City Olympics with a team led by the architect Pedro Ramírez Vázquez, and the pictogram system for the Mexico City Metro, still in use. It remains one of the best examples of an identity that draws on local visual culture without turning it into a costume.
  • Alejandro Magallanes is known for his cultural posters, illustration and books, with a strongly personal visual voice.

The hard questions here are local ones. How do we design our own identity? Whose stories do we tell? And when we borrow from traditional or Indigenous visual culture, are we honoring it or appropriating it?

5. The future: tools, AI and circularity

Generative design

In generative design, the designer sets rules and parameters and an algorithm produces variations. That makes dynamic identities, variable typography and mass customization possible. Tools include Processing and p5.js (code as a design tool), TouchDesigner for real-time visuals, and Grasshopper with Rhino for parametric form. Variable fonts (introduced in 2016) let one font file hold a whole range of weights and widths.

AI

AI image and text tools speed up ideation and prototyping, and they raise real problems: who is the author of an AI-generated design, whose work was used to train the model, what biases the training data carries, and whether designers lose skills and critical judgment by leaning on it. Positions tend to fall into four camps:

  • Optimists: AI frees designers from mechanical tasks.
  • Critics: it dehumanizes design and erodes craft.
  • Pragmatists: it's a tool, and it still needs human context and judgment.
  • Regulators: it needs ethical and legal standards.

The technology doesn't decide any of this on its own. What matters is who controls it, who benefits, and what gets lost when human decisions are translated into code.

Circular design

Circular design goes beyond "do less harm." The cradle to cradle idea (from William McDonough and Michael Braungart's 2002 book of the same name) treats waste as a nutrient: products designed to be taken apart and fed back into biological or technical cycles. For graphic designers, that translates into identities that work across contexts without constant reprinting, flexible and durable type systems, and packaging planned for its entire life.

What kind of designer do you want to be?

History doesn't give you one right path. It gives you options and their consequences. Arts & Crafts showed the value of craft in an industrial world. The Bauhaus tied good design to democratic access. The Swiss Style made rigor a value. New York made room for humanity and wit. Postmodernism taught us to question all of it.

The roles available today are just as varied: corporate designer working on strategy from inside the system, independent editorial designer, activist, researcher, educator, community designer, founder of your own alternatives. None of them is the "correct" one.

Try answering these in writing, one short paragraph each:

  • What values guide your design decisions?
  • Who do you really serve: the brand, the community, or both?
  • What's your relationship with technology: tool, partner, threat?
  • Where's your line? Which project would you turn down?

Your answers will change. Writing them down now gives you something to argue with later.

Further reading

  • Peter Hall and Michael Bierut, Tibor Kalman: Perverse Optimist (1998)
  • Victor Papanek, Design for the Real World (1971)
  • Anthony Dunne and Fiona Raby, Speculative Everything: Design, Fiction, and Social Dreaming (2013)
  • Sasha Costanza-Chock, Design Justice: Community-Led Practices to Build the Worlds We Need (2020)
  • Mike Monteiro, Ruined by Design: How Designers Destroyed the World, and What We Can Do to Fix It (2019)
  • William McDonough and Michael Braungart, Cradle to Cradle: Remaking the Way We Make Things (2002)

Design history

June 28, 2026

·

7 min read

Five Directions in Contemporary Design

Social, digital, speculative, sustainable and future-facing design: where the field has gone since postmodernism, and what each asks of you.

Postmodernism left designers with a strange kind of freedom. Once you accept that there's no single correct style, you can do anything. Which raises the obvious next question: fine, but why are you doing it?

That's roughly where contemporary design lives. It's defined less by a look than by what the work is for. Five directions stand out, and most working designers end up somewhere between two or three of them.

1. Social design: taking a side

While David Carson was breaking legibility in the 1990s, other designers were breaking rules for ideological reasons.

Tibor Kalman (1949 to 1999) believed design should make people think, and sometimes make them uncomfortable. His New York studio, M&Co, founded in 1979, did editorial and identity work with real attitude, for clients like the restaurant Florent and Interview magazine. In 1991 he became the founding editor of Colors, a magazine published by Benetton, and ran it until 1995. It covered race, AIDS, war and immigration with documentary photography, and the design served the content instead of the brand.

Oliviero Toscani, the photographer behind Benetton's advertising from the 1980s to 2000, took the idea further and turned advertising itself into social commentary. Under the "United Colors of Benetton" banner, his campaigns tackled racism, AIDS, war and the death penalty.

They also left an ethical question that still doesn't have a clean answer. Is it acceptable to use real suffering to sell sweaters? Critics called it exploitation. Defenders said it forced taboo subjects into public conversation. Both things can be true at once.

Manifestos

Designers have a long habit of writing down where they stand:

  • First Things First (1964), written by Ken Garland and signed by a group of British designers, called for putting design skills toward useful work instead of trivial advertising. It was renewed in 2000 and again in 2020.
  • Dieter Rams's ten principles of good design, written while he was head of design at Braun, are still quoted in almost every product team.
  • Bruce Mau's "Incomplete Manifesto for Growth" (1998) is less about ethics and more about how to keep a creative practice alive.

Manifestos look good on a wall. The real test is personal: which projects do you accept, how do you represent people, which stories do you help spread, and who actually benefits?

2. Digital design: the alphabet and the screen

The computer didn't just replace the designer's tools. It changed what design could reach and how it could behave.

The type designers

  • Zuzana Licko, co-founder of Emigre, designed early typefaces like Oakland (1985) and Matrix (1986) around the coarse bitmaps of early screens and printers. Instead of fighting the pixel, she designed with it.
  • Erik Spiekermann designed FF Meta (1991), co-founded the FontShop type distributor, and co-wrote Stop Stealing Sheep & Find Out How Type Works (1993), still one of the friendliest introductions to typography.
  • Tobias Frere-Jones drew Interstate (1993), based on US highway signage, Whitney (1996) for the Whitney Museum, and Gotham (2000), which became the face of countless identities, including Barack Obama's 2008 campaign.

Concept first

In the 1990s, designers like Stefan Sagmeister, Paula Scher and Chip Kidd showed that the idea could matter more than visual polish. Narrative, experimentation with media, and a free mix of high and low culture became the point. Kidd's cover for Jurassic Park (1990) is a good example: one skeletal dinosaur, and you already know the book.

The web

Early websites in the 1990s were built with basic HTML, table layouts and animated GIFs. Then came CSS, the code that controls how things look (color, spacing, size), which separated structure from presentation and made more sophisticated layout possible. Flash had a long, flashy run before browsers dropped it. In 2010 Ethan Marcotte named responsive web design: one layout that adapts to any screen. Apps and mobile interfaces followed.

Designers like Joshua Davis, Yugo Nakamura and John Maeda explored the space where design, programming and generative art overlap, and proved that code could be a legitimate creative material.

3. Experimental and speculative design: asking "what if?"

What if design stopped solving today's problems and started exploring other possible worlds?

Speculative design, associated above all with Anthony Dunne and Fiona Raby, uses fictional products, services and scenarios to provoke debate about where technology and society are heading. The objects aren't meant to be sold. They're meant to make you ask whether you want that future.

On the practical end of the same spectrum sits service design: designing whole experiences and systems instead of single objects, with multiple touchpoints and the people who use them involved in the process. Transport apps, health systems and museum visits are all services someone designed, well or badly.

Around both sits a growing body of design for urgent problems: climate change, inequality, migration, pandemics and misinformation.

Underneath all of it is the idea that design is political. Several current approaches take that seriously:

  • Inclusive design: designing for real human diversity, not only for people with perfect sight, hearing and mobility. Diversity is the norm, not the edge case.
  • Decolonial design: questioning the assumption that European and North American design is the default.
  • Feminist design: bringing in perspectives that were historically left out.
  • Sustainable design: reducing environmental harm.

Four questions worth asking about any project: who benefits, what values it promotes, whose voices it amplifies or silences, and what it does to the environment.

4. Sustainable and local design: back to the ground

Sustainable design looks at environmental and social impact across the whole life of a thing: reducing, reusing and recycling, low-impact materials, local production, longevity and honesty about all of it.

That last part matters because of greenwashing, marketing that looks sustainable without any real change behind it. A leaf icon and a green palette aren't a sustainability strategy. Real claims come with measurable changes to materials, processes or product life.

Graphic designers have concrete moves available: fewer inks, recycled stock, vegetable-based inks, lighter digital files. The Dutch Ecofont, a typeface punched with tiny holes so it uses less ink, is a small but memorable example.

Looking local

Sustainability also has a cultural side. For designers in Mexico, a few reference points:

  • Lance Wyman, an American designer, created the identity for the 1968 Mexico City Olympics with a team led by the architect Pedro Ramírez Vázquez, and the pictogram system for the Mexico City Metro, still in use. It remains one of the best examples of an identity that draws on local visual culture without turning it into a costume.
  • Alejandro Magallanes is known for his cultural posters, illustration and books, with a strongly personal visual voice.

The hard questions here are local ones. How do we design our own identity? Whose stories do we tell? And when we borrow from traditional or Indigenous visual culture, are we honoring it or appropriating it?

5. The future: tools, AI and circularity

Generative design

In generative design, the designer sets rules and parameters and an algorithm produces variations. That makes dynamic identities, variable typography and mass customization possible. Tools include Processing and p5.js (code as a design tool), TouchDesigner for real-time visuals, and Grasshopper with Rhino for parametric form. Variable fonts (introduced in 2016) let one font file hold a whole range of weights and widths.

AI

AI image and text tools speed up ideation and prototyping, and they raise real problems: who is the author of an AI-generated design, whose work was used to train the model, what biases the training data carries, and whether designers lose skills and critical judgment by leaning on it. Positions tend to fall into four camps:

  • Optimists: AI frees designers from mechanical tasks.
  • Critics: it dehumanizes design and erodes craft.
  • Pragmatists: it's a tool, and it still needs human context and judgment.
  • Regulators: it needs ethical and legal standards.

The technology doesn't decide any of this on its own. What matters is who controls it, who benefits, and what gets lost when human decisions are translated into code.

Circular design

Circular design goes beyond "do less harm." The cradle to cradle idea (from William McDonough and Michael Braungart's 2002 book of the same name) treats waste as a nutrient: products designed to be taken apart and fed back into biological or technical cycles. For graphic designers, that translates into identities that work across contexts without constant reprinting, flexible and durable type systems, and packaging planned for its entire life.

What kind of designer do you want to be?

History doesn't give you one right path. It gives you options and their consequences. Arts & Crafts showed the value of craft in an industrial world. The Bauhaus tied good design to democratic access. The Swiss Style made rigor a value. New York made room for humanity and wit. Postmodernism taught us to question all of it.

The roles available today are just as varied: corporate designer working on strategy from inside the system, independent editorial designer, activist, researcher, educator, community designer, founder of your own alternatives. None of them is the "correct" one.

Try answering these in writing, one short paragraph each:

  • What values guide your design decisions?
  • Who do you really serve: the brand, the community, or both?
  • What's your relationship with technology: tool, partner, threat?
  • Where's your line? Which project would you turn down?

Your answers will change. Writing them down now gives you something to argue with later.

Further reading

  • Peter Hall and Michael Bierut, Tibor Kalman: Perverse Optimist (1998)
  • Victor Papanek, Design for the Real World (1971)
  • Anthony Dunne and Fiona Raby, Speculative Everything: Design, Fiction, and Social Dreaming (2013)
  • Sasha Costanza-Chock, Design Justice: Community-Led Practices to Build the Worlds We Need (2020)
  • Mike Monteiro, Ruined by Design: How Designers Destroyed the World, and What We Can Do to Fix It (2019)
  • William McDonough and Michael Braungart, Cradle to Cradle: Remaking the Way We Make Things (2002)