Spectral Design

Truly holistic design incorporates all use cases. However, it's impossible to prioritize all users equally. You can't please everyone all of the time, which is why I approach my projects through a lens of spectral design:

I consider the most interested and least interested users of a given project and design the experience around those two distinct points of view.

What does this mean? It means addressing two large swaths of an audience at once, building content around the top and bottom of the funnel, and letting the experience at each end inform the experiences in the middle.

This thinking most recently manifested in my work on USC's Office of Sustainability website, where I prioritized two distinct user journeys. Power users — those who are true believers in the sustainability movement — have easy paths to access valuable, in-depth resources. Meanwhile, passersby in the USC ecosystem, who don't have much time for or interest in sustainability, can glean the most salient information about sustainable efforts at USC and take small, quick actions to join the cause.

When you address user needs at both ends of the spectrum, they notice. And meeting users where they're at moves them further toward loyalty.

Daring Originality

An original idea is the most valuable resource in the world. The moat of originality is wider than what any competitor can cross because originality is inimitable. Someone can go through the same motions to create a similar work of art, or product, or experience, but it will never, and can never, be authentic.

The momentum of original thought is unmatched. It increases entropy by its own existence, and provides paths forward that would not be otherwise possible.

The only way to act on original ideas is to try something that has never been done before. This can result in error, but the success one experiences by making something truly new and novel outweighs any potential pitfall tenfold. And, while the reward for bringing originality into the world may not always be tangible, it moves the needle in ways that are far more important.

Two-wheeled Freedom

Bicycles and cars are a perfect comparison for my definition of user-first design.

Cars are complicated. They used to be simpler, sure. Once bought, they used to afford a driver the ability to maintain a vehicle on their own, not factoring in a need for custom parts. But now, with computer systems and expensive diagnostic tools, the driver of a car is subscribed to a system of heavy regulation, narrow application, and outside reliance.

A driver cannot drive a car that is not registered. They cannot drive a car where they please. And they cannot drive a car that fails to adhere to third-party standards,  many of which necessitate outside assistance from specialists. The tradeoff here is, obviously, the ability to travel long distances in a short amount of time.

Bicycles, on the other hand, are simple. They utilize basic physics to propel a rider efficiently and relatively quickly, but what's more is the freedom that comes with this power.

Bicycles can take you just about anywhere. You can buy a bicycle in a shop, or you can build one on your own. The barrier to entry for understanding a bicycle inside and out is far lower than that of a car. A determined person could become an expert in bicycle construction, manufacturing, and maintenance in a reasonable amount of time. You do not need to register a bicycle with a third party. There are no regulations for what a bicycle can or cannot be. You own your bicycle. You can physically pick up your bicycle and take it into your home, or your workplace, or lock it outside. It can go anywhere and take you anywhere. The tradeoff here, however, is that a bicycle is not nearly as performant as a car.

Both vehicles can get you the same distance, but each has a distinct relationship between the time, effort, and freedom. And, in my opinion, bicycles and bicycle-shaped things in the world are not only more practical for most use cases, but  far more enjoyable.