One of the great things about design is its ability to act as a window in time, for us to get a taste of what that era was like. If we’re old enough, those combinations of words and images conjure up powerful memories, associations and emotions. Great design does that.
My Dad brought home our first video game system in 1983, when I was but five years old. The Atari 2600 had already become a gigantic, category-defining success, spawning a whole new industry of home video games. In the six years since its release, Atari had used its marketing muscle in TV commercials, ads in comic books and magazines, and I wanted one. From the moment my Dad pulled out the box from Video King, I was hooked.
It used to be that in the old media landscape, the only way to ascend to the top of the pyramid was to be a creator. Inventor. Writer. Painter. Photographer. You had to create something to add value. But with the tools of creation and production becoming cheaper, simpler and more accessible, we’re flooded with the fruits of easy creation: Etsy stores, 3D printing, GarageBand songs, YouTube films, print-on-demand novels, and an ocean of blogs via online publishing software. Tens of thousands of people are now creators, and they’re churning out all kinds of stuff.
It’s been hyped as “magic”, “revolutionary” and the potential salvation of the publishing industry. A little thing called the iPad. Yes, it’s beautifully designed by Jonathan Ive. Yes, it’s simple to use. But why do people seem more willing to pay for news, magazines, and content when it’s delivered as an iPad app, when the same basic content has been on the boring, old Internet for years?
“In order to cement your status in the cultural elite, you want to be already sick of everything no one else has even heard of.”
—David Brooks, NY Times Op Ed columnist
This has, in my ten years of experience, been the prevailing attitude and general temperment in business, amidst a set of people who are constantly standing on the forefront of culture and gleaning bits for their work. I might be bold enough to say that attitude will soon be falling out of fashion. In a post-Obama victory, in an empathy-filled set of hard luck headlines, it’s time for optimism and promise to make a comeback. What can we offer in hope? Are our uncertain times a clarion call for a newer, more hopeful way of thinking and presenting real problem-solving solutions?