There is a way of working that is essential to any creative pursuit, design especially, that is woven so deeply into the process itself that we don’t really have a good way of talking about it. And yet every good designer, and successful team that I’m aware of does it, and ignoring it can be catastrophic, no matter the size of the project.
I’ve come to think of this concept as the Sandpaper Principle, which is an analogy that happens to make sense to me, though I’ve also heard it partially articulated through concepts like “working lean” and the “Minimum viable product (MVP)” The idea goes like this:
Say you want to build a chair out of a tree using hand-tools.
First you would start with the coarsest, most efficient, least precise tool in your arsenal; an ax.
Next, you would move to a slightly more precise tool to convert the lumber into rough boards; a saw.
Next you square the boards up with a jointer and plane, slightly more precise, yet still rough tools, and so on until the chair is largely made, at which point you start with the coarsest sandpaper, say 100 grit, down to the finest, say 600 (or bust out the 000 steel wool and make that bad-Larry sparkle).
This is the most efficient way to work. From coarse to fine, ax to sandpaper. This is the first rule. The level of resolution required at a given stage of development dictates the tool that you use.
Equally, you don’t want to skip ahead to a finer tool than is necessary for the given application. Attacking a tree with 600 grit sandpaper is just as Sisyphean as trying to smooth a delicate surface with an ax. It seems obvious (even a first-year student toiling away over a pile of blue foam understands this concept intuitively), but I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen people ignore this in the process of design, even at very high levels. And this concept applies to every creative process that I’m aware of, from writing to sculpting, to CAD modeling, even presentation and storytelling.
Where Things Go Wrong
This tends to manifest in a few ways. In some cases, the actual purpose of given milestone in a project isn’t always clear at the start, and so there’s a mismatch in requirements. Say you’re asked to develop a quick concept for a widget so that everyone can have a reference point for a client meeting. A few storyboards or a low-res model would have communicated the idea to the team, but instead you went down a rabbit hole, hopped into CAD and went H.A.M. on some dope renderings with tasteful CMF and realistic depth of field… only to find out that the idea wasn’t worth exploring (and worst of all, now the client is confused, thinking you’ve done all this work on a bad idea. More on that later).
This can really be exacerbated when people design in a vacuum, without good team input and structured deadlines. A lot of designers have a perfectionist streak (definitely calling myself out here) and a tendency to fall in love with their own ideas, but this can get wildly out of control when there is a lack of creative confidence on a team (i.e. a toxic environment that is not conducive to failure, resulting in creative stagnation). If your team is always poking holes in your concepts and building up their own ideas, the first impulse is to overthink and overdevelop your concepts out of insecurity, wasting time making them unassailable instead of collaborating towards a solution. This kind of isolation can be deadly to a creative department and should be avoided at all cost.
This problem definitely isn’t limited to creative departments. I’ve seen this work its way up to the scale of major company projects; hundreds of thousands of dollars, and months of dev time just to overshoot the target, or come up short because the deliverable wasn’t scaled appropriately for success. In one instance from my own life, a company decided that a massively complicated, pre-production prototype was necessary to meet business goals, but only had a small team and an insanely aggressive timeline. Rather than balancing what was actually needed with what was possible, the team took their marching orders and blazed ahead, burning themselves out and blowing through piles of cash before it was too late. The end result was half-assed, underwhelming and cost the company dearly.
Tuck Your Chain: A digression on keeping it ugly
This can actually lead to a related failure, the “What You See Is What There Is” phenomenon; when you see something that looks like it belongs in a further stage of development than it does, it will be interpreted and judged in that context. In other words, if you make it look like a finished product when it’s just a proof of concept, people will critique it as though you’ve spent months honing in every last detail. Sometimes it’s a good idea to make something look intentionally rough so that people (clients, studio partners, whomever) can set their expectations, and understand how they should view and judge a concept.
In other words, tuck your chain. Don’t let your gems show, lest they be snatched.
And this doesn’t just apply to prototypes; as Michael DiTullo said in this interview, “a rendering is a statement, a sketch is a conversation.” Getting too precious with your hand skills during a brainstorm is a good way to get stuck on idea 1 while everyone else is on idea 20.
Avoiding Splinters
Here are some practical ways of avoiding using the wrong grit at the wrong time:
Understand what success looks like first: When someone drops a new project in your lap, always try and understand the context before you put pen to paper. Ask three things: what, why and when — stay the hell away from how until you have those answers. Getting caught up in how you might do something before you know the requirements of the deliverable itself (the why and what), and how much time you have to complete (when), it is a sure way to over or under shoot the project. And sometimes the person asking you won’t have a full picture of the challenges or risks involved in what they’re asking for, which brings me to my next point…
Scale deliverables through negotiation: A very wise friend of mine once said: “Don’t just come up with problems. Offer solutions.” Success in design is always about balancing what’s possible within limited constraints and what’s desirable, usually from the client or management. If the initial project scope isn’t feasible, treat the first ask like a first sketch and build off it! Make sure they understand the challenges, but offer some appropriately-scaled alternatives; if a full prototype isn’t necessary to get good customer feedback on one feature, how about a concierge demo? Be creative and hone in on the minimum viable product.
Get out of your own head: Seek feedback often during your process, and if you don’t have a safe space to do it, consider finding ways to get feedback from people outside of your immediate team. We all know this as designers, but it can be hard to realize what’s happening in the moment. Follow your intuition. I tend to get a creeping feeling when I’m getting a little too precious about something, and that’s a great time to pull someone in for a sanity check.