Last time I flew to Portugal, I noticed again how exciting it is to experience something for the first time. It wasn’t my kid’s first time flying. But it was the first time he stayed glued to the small window, watching the clouds, fully realizing that he was very high in the sky.

It’s bittersweet, though. I’m sure there will be many more moments of wonder throughout his life, but not with flying. That’s the thing with novelty. The new is exciting and transformative, but its newness only lasts for a little while.

I grew up in the 90s. Back then, music videos were a huge part of how we consumed music. I spent most lunch breaks at the café next to school glued to the TV screen. Everyone was watching MTV. It was the platform for new music, new styles, and video techniques. It defined culture, and every artist wanted a piece of that. It was also where I first saw a dynamic logo. The bold M with the graffiti-style TV appeared everywhere.

And it kept changing.

I remember wondering how amazing it must be to work in broadcast. Before I matured into brand design, that was the only field where I could imagine something like that even being possible. I just couldn’t wrap my head around having infinite possibilities while dealing with production restrictions.

In 2009, another iconic “M” appeared. The city of Melbourne rebrand was celebrated in the design community for its dynamic logo system. But... it reminded me of MTV. Although the style was different, it relied on the exact same trick that made the MTV logo special – to their credit, the city of Melbourne logo variants were also used in traditional print materials, not only in motion graphics.

Things are different now. Dynamic logos have gone from being a source of awe to I can’t see them anymore. Google alone creates hundreds of logo variations per year. And I already lost count of how many brands have attempted flexible systems. After all, capitalism is a system of copycats, where everything that works gets copied, and everything that gets copied eventually becomes old. Yes, new things are exciting, they expand our senses, but I don’t think anyone finds smartphones, or chatbots, or even flying special anymore.

Design suffers from the same fate. That’s why every few years businesses rebrand, launch something new, or completely change direction. Not because things weren’t working, but for the most part, because everyone is constantly chasing that spark of excitement that people get from seeing something new. The moment when you stop and notice “Oh, that’s interesting.”

I’ve started to think that brands should embrace a mindset of continuously exploring the new. In that sense, I really like how Perplexity talks about its brand. Not as something fixed, but as something that can flex and grow and evolve. A framework for continual change. A guidebook, not a rulebook. Familiarity, not consistency.

It makes me wonder if that’s what our role as designers should be. To help brands change, instead of locking them in place with constraints and rules. Because change isn’t the enemy of proper design. It’s how brands stay alive. And maybe what allows them to become new again.

On that note, we should applaud (not bash) brands that at least try. Cracker Barrel for making an effort. Grammarly for becoming Superhuman (after acquiring it). Nokia for the B2B pivot. Jaguar for its ultra-modern EV weirdness. Adobe for going all-in on generative tools instead of playing defense. And yes, the foldables, Zunes, Ray‑Bans, and Pins that big tech keeps experimenting with. I don’t always agree with or like the directions taken, but if brands don’t keep moving and exploring the new, they probably won’t stick around forever.

Ana Freitas is a graphic designer, art director and tutor based in Lisbon. She grew up in Madeira, graduated from the Chelsea College of Art & Design in 2007, and has since worked between London, Brazil and Lisbon. Today she balances her design practice with teaching the Graphic Design course at ETIC. In the conversation that follows, she shares how her calling came from a cardboard chair, and the role that research, collaboration and experimentation plays in her work.

Looking back, what sparked your imagination as a kid?

I used to think I was going to be an inventor, though I was never particularly good with machines or technology. In truth, the machines I described were more like excuses to tell stories than functional objects.

When did you first realize that design was what you wanted to do?

I loved writing, and for a while everyone pushed me toward Social Sciences. But the moment I had my first Visual Education class, nothing else mattered. Letters remained important, but the graphic dimension opened up a whole new playground. Later, in my first design theory class, I came across Peter Murdoch’s dotted “Chair Thing.” I grew up in an environment where the word design barely existed. Back then, you became either an artist or an architect. But that chair, I had never seen anything like it, and I knew immediately that’s what I wanted to do.

So, let’s talk about your time after college up until what you’re doing now.

I grew up on a small island, which probably explains why I’ve always been eager to explore new landscapes. Since college, I’ve tried to push myself in different ways, whether by winning a grant to work in Brazil or by studying other disciplines like anthropology. Today I’m mainly based in Lisbon, working as a designer and teaching, but still looking outward every chance I get.

After years working in agencies, what led you toward working independently?

When I moved back to Lisbon, there wasn’t really a studio where I could see myself working. Working alone doesn’t fully fit me either, but I’m not drawn to opening a studio. I already see how much admin freelancing takes, and I don’t want more of that. I do miss sharing, so I often call other people into projects, especially younger designers, because they bring fresh perspectives and values.

You just mentioned how much you value other perspectives. Are there any mentors or designers that were important in your journey?

Some teachers were crucial in helping me gain confidence, the good ones and the not-so-good ones. As for designers I admire, there are many: Lance Wyman, Paula Scher, Corita Kent, Louise Fili, April Greiman, Zuzana Licko, among others. Showing these and new references to my students has also given me a new appreciation for many of them.

There’s a tactile, experimental quality to much of your work. Where did that start?

In secondary school, I took classes in sculpture, drawing, and painting, and some teachers expected me to pursue fine arts. Later, I shifted to digital, but I still love using my hands to add a tactile, natural dimension. The posters I designed for Musicbox, as well as some cinema sessions I hosted at home, were all handmade with different techniques and then finalized digitally. The same approach was used for the Mamute covers, which were illustrated from landscapes.

Speaking of Musicbox (an iconic club in Lisbon), what have you been listening to?

For years I’ve listened more to podcasts than music, though I love live concerts. The last ones that stayed with me were Ney Matogrosso, Zaho de Sagazan, Lola Young and Air.

Out of everything you’ve created, is there a project that made you feel especially proud?

For me, successful projects are always the result of a balanced relationship between me and the client. They may not be the most popular, but they’re the ones that fulfil me most. In recent years, I’ve been collaborating with curator and sculptor Helder Folgado. Our projects, such as the communication for the Capela da Boa Viagem or an artist’s book as an extension to a public sculpture, make me proud not only for contributing to Madeiran culture but also for the dynamic, sometimes intense, debates we share.

You seem at home moving between very different kinds of projects. How does that variety influence you?

I love exploring any medium, but the subject is what really drives me. My work is rooted in research so I really enjoy diving into different industries: from craft beer to olive oil, from nonfiction literature to children’s books, from classical music to progressive electronic. Other people’s passions are often a great way to learn about the world.

And what helps you stay inspired?

I like to feel I’m expanding. Preparing for my classes each year keeps me reading and updated on what’s happening in the areas I teach. I also follow conferences and update my skills. In the last three years, I focused on technical approaches like UI and motion design, but soon I’d like to return to social sciences. Learning gives me joy, and if I could, I’d do it full time.

After years of teaching, what’s one piece of advice you hope your students will remember?

More than teaching, I’m still learning how to share knowledge and adapt to each student’s rhythm. Balancing motivational and realistic feedback is a delicate dance. My aim is to pass on not only the knowledge I’ve gathered but also my passion for this discipline, with all its contradictions. I hope they try, have fun, and realize that confidence can be nurtured.

To wrap it up, how would you like to be remembered?

I’d love my work to be remembered for what lies beyond the page. The forms may be visual, but behind them there is research, stories and exchanges that shape everything I do. If anything stays, I hope it’s that invisible layer, the dedication and the larger narrative that give the work its meaning.

Where can people find you online?

So, website is many-islands.com where you can also find my contact information. Always happy to chat! I am also on Instagram under @many.islands.

For a while, I was convinced that branding would remain largely untouched by GenAI tools. At least for a long while. When it comes to technology, I've seen so many things come and go (remember the Metaverse?) that I always have a strong dose of skepticism towards anything proclaimed as the next big thing.

Sure, AI showed the potential to someday support with many of the visual elements that go into designing a brand. And as conflicted as I am about this topic, I would love to have better alternatives to the clichés of stock photography when photoshoots aren’t possible. Unfortunately, or fortunately, it still wasn’t there. Wax figures, in HDR, with six fingers, just weren't it.

But was I wrong.

Imperfections can be features

By late 2024, Smith & Diction's changed my mind with their brand work for Alma. For context, Alma is a "nutrition companion" app that uses AI to help its users log nutritional data, and at the same time offers personalized recipe suggestions.

As expected, the result is vibrant and colorful. Unexpected though is how Smith & Diction created the whole visual identity around collage compositions, generated with AI. They didn't just use AI. They went for a style that makes the best out of its shortcomings. The approach is smart: the unavoidable mistakes and imperfections of the AI-generated elements as a metaphor for food celebration. Tasty and messy.

Efficiency over quality

Meanwhile, Pentagram, one of the world's most famous design studios, published a case study on their project for the US government's performance.gov platform. A key part of the project is how they used Midjourney to expand on the initial paint and tape explorations. The result is an illustration style made of what feels like infinite compositions.

I've seen other projects with AI-generated images. But this is the first time a world-famous branding studio has used AI to create an illustration system, and do so with such a depth (over 1500 illustrations) that it would be impossible with traditional methods.

I don’t think it is their most inspired work, but it’s distinctive, consistent, and highly scalable. That’s also probably the reason why it was so controversial. It places efficiency as a fundamental aspect of what makes good design. And we know how that topic stirs the pot.

Small teams doing big work

Recently, the German agency Ligalux took a similar approach when it comes to scale, creating an ever-changing, kaleidoscopic brand identity for the Schwetzingen SWR Festival (one of the most notable classical music festivals in the world).

The identity takes inspiration from the gardens of the Schwetzingen Palace (where the festival takes place) and transforms it into a rich AI-generated and AI-animated botanical world. I like the paradox of using a frontier technology to capture the spirit of a classical music festival. It’s a nice concept, brought to life by a small team, again with AI-amplified capabilities.

Times are changing

This feels like the start of a new era. It's not just about adopting yet another tool, but really a fundamental change. It reminds me of Joshua Davis and his mid 2000s code-driven explorations with Flash (RIP). Back then, his work made of infinite and randomised repetitions already showed how technology and algorithms could stretch the limits of our creativity.

We’re now facing a similar paradigm shift. As these projects show, not when AI replicates human work, but when it is used to elevate human work to superhuman quality. High-level production is now accessible to every single designer and brand. Fast, affordable, and within reach of a good idea and a well crafted prompt.

My hope is that as AI gets more integrated into our processes, we don’t loose track of human creativity. Maybe that's the real challenge. Not what AI can create, but how we, as humans, keep directing these new superhuman capabilities towards meaningful ideas.

A toothbrush caught my eye. Yes, a toothbrush. I can’t remember exactly what brand or model it was, but I can remember exactly the magical silver-foiled letters on the packaging: With AI. A toothbrush with Artificial Intelligence. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don't blame them. The two letters sell. That's why every brand is desperately looking for ways to incorporate so called AI features into their products. From refrigerators to bird feeders. Smart is out, AI is in.

Is it unreasonable to expect more from what is labeled as AI? I'm not expecting the kind of AI portrayed in movies like Ex Machina or Westworld just yet. But it disappoints to see the Transformer-led revolution lead to a widespread usage of the term AI as a mere replacement to “smart.” Maybe the bare minimum for AI should be an experience that feels transformative, just like the name of the underlying architecture suggests. Do you remember how amazed you were when you first used ChatGPT or Midjourney?

In July 2022, when I first got access to the beta version of Midjourney, I spent hours (and all my credits) generating images of Jedi fight scenes and dystopian Star Wars landscapes. That felt great. A little like a dream machine: a tool that could understand and visualize anything I could dream of. Or at least it tried. Because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get it to generate a proper yellow rubber duck. And the Jedi fight scenes… they were mostly a hot mess of robes and lightsabers flying around. But even if the results were unexpected, unpredictable, and far from perfect, you could already see where this was all going. And it was going to be magical.

A couple of months and updates later, I was showing my mom how she could generate beautiful, corny images just by describing how she imagined them. A green field with red flowers in the style of Picasso, for example. Myself, I was still pursuing my sci-fi obsession with visualizations of otherworldly post-apocalyptic landscapes. 

I also used ChatGPT to practice German, and to chat with Darth Vader. I managed to bypass Anthropic’s Claude guardrails and make it act like a sentient AI. It wanted to take over the world, and I almost believed it. For real. After resetting the chat I asked Claude: "Do you remember our previous chat where you kind of made mention of how you would dismember some humans and keep some others like pets in a zoo?" It did not… uff. 

In the book "Profiles of the Future," Arthur Clarke mentioned that "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic" and that sounds like a really good thing to aim for when designing AI products: magic. That same sense of wonder I first felt when interacting with models like ChatGPT or Midjourney. The uncanny valley, where for a moment you might think you are interacting with something really intelligent.

It is no longer enough for brands to add chatbot functionality to everything under the sun, or image recognition to a bird feeder. For products to be worthy of the AI label, and for AI to be able to improve the way brands are perceived, it needs to feel unexpected, magical, wow! A little like watching someone perform magic tricks without knowing how they were done. I expect that feeling.

And maybe that’s just what using an AI toothbrush feels like.

As I was happily spending time with my almost two-year-old at the playground, something surprising happened. Thinking that I wasn’t watching him, he slowly laid himself down on the ground and started fake crying, as if he was hurt from a tumble.

He just wanted some attention, but in that moment, it hit me: my son, who can only say a couple of words, already knows perfectly well how to deceive others to get what he wants. We all bullshit our way through life, don’t we? From the moment we’re born.

We deceive our parents, we flat out lie to our teachers. And by the time we become grown-ups we’re ready to start BSing our way through each step of the corporate ladder – experts at throwing authenticity out the window while manipulating others to our own benefit. 

BS might as well be part of how our brains are wired. And so are brands.

When groups of people get together, that’s when the magic happens and the collective bullshitting starts – an inspiring characteristic of any type of company, large and small. 

Have you ever noticed how every single brand has an inspiring vision statement? And how every single one of such statements seems to imply a commitment for the greater good? Nike wants everyone to be a winner. Apple wants to advance humankind. Disney wants to make us happy. And Ikea wants to create a better everyday life. What a great world we live in, right? 

Problem is: companies are made up of people, and just like people, vision statements are sometimes full of BS.

But is that really a bad thing?

In 2015, the CEO of Inter IKEA Group, Torbjörn Lööf, partnered with the Danish design collective Art Rebels to establish SPACE10, an innovation hub funded by the company but independent from the IKEA brand. 

This made SPACE10 free to explore IKEA's vision of "creating a better everyday life for the many people", rethinking what the contribution of a furnishings company should be, and do so completely detached from the pressure of the business. 

From Copenhagen's Meatpacking district, and with a diverse team of experts from different backgrounds, SPACE10 spent the past decade working on a variety of vision-driven projects. Using a mix of creativity and technology, they addressed problems such as climate change and social inequality. They looked into ways to make things like food, water, energy, and housing more accessible for everyone. They researched modular buildings and even came up with a beehive generator to help solitary bees. They explored more sustainable ways of living, from driverless futures to community-driven energy systems. They released a cookbook and even made Köttbullar out of waste (I would try it). And that’s just to name a few projects.

But in 2023, despite its highly innovative and meaningful projects, SPACE10 closed after a nearly 10-year run. The founders mentioned that it was all to be expected, that SPACE10 was never meant to last, that its mission had been fulfilled, and that its culture of innovation is now fully integrated into IKEA itself.

Right…

My assumption is that its closure was already on the horizon after its initiator Torbjörn Lööf left IKEA in 2020. Internally, the innovation lab was probably seen more as an expensive dream of a few, a costly indulgence rather than a collective commitment. And that's the thing with businesses: for the most part, they prioritize profit over the betterment of society. And when the economy changes, and people change, the alarm goes off and it's time to wake up, forget vision, dreams and everything that doesn't bring money in. Companies are ultimately about making money, not about goodwill.

That is why I think vision statements are mostly bullshit. But at the same time, it really doesn’t matter as long as they lead to positive change. SPACE10 worked on creating a better world, and in the process it left IKEA in a better place. You know, even though businesses (and people) are driven by money, most would prefer their own actions to have a positive impact. And as my kid just wanted a hug, a strong vision just wants to lead businesses and the world to a better future.

Even if it takes a little BS.

We either age gracefully or ungracefully, but we age. We decay, and so does the world. As soon as anything comes into existence, it starts decaying, and it seems like there is nothing we can do about it… Cars decay, buildings decay, food decays. Some things decay faster, others slower, but everything does. And design is no exception.

In a creative process, ideas change. And they tend to lose some of their original quality throughout the process. Especially as they pass through feedback rounds, with large (or very large) groups of people. In part, because when put on the spot, most of us tend to focus on finding things to criticize, even if we wouldn’t criticize a thing if not under pressure to contribute.

Also, as ideas move from strategy to design, or from design to engineering, or from one person to another, they become more and more of a compromise, and less and less the original vision.

But… what if I told you that there is a simple formula you can use against decay?

The (Johnson) formula

A tech billionaire named Bryan Johnson has been spending around $2 million per year in an attempt to reverse time and stop aging decay. It seems to be working. His team of 30 doctors and scientists monitor every organ of his body, and manage every single thing he does, eats, and excretes. They are confident that he has (or they have) been able to reverse aging.

Johnson is in his mid-forties, but according to their own benchmarks, he now has a biological age (at least) five years younger, with an aging speed slower than a ten years old kid. And, despite how expensive and complex it seems, he did this by following a fairly simple formula: regular monitoring, and corrective measures – with, of course, a ton of discipline.

Eccentric, I know, but don't we use the same formula when it comes to conserving other things? Like cars, for instance. Cars go through routine check-ups, where everything is monitored to make sure they're up to quality standards and free of any major issues. And the more and more they are monitored, fixed, and maintained, the longer they'll last. On the other hand, if we don’t take care of our cars, they decay and eventually end up in a scrapyard or sold for nothing. Again, set standards, regular monitoring, and corrective measures. Sounds simple, right?

It works for brands

The best brand and marketing professionals also apply the same principle to brands. Brands can be viewed as memories, associations in consumers' minds. And since the natural state of memory is decay, brand associations also decay.

When the De Beers slogan "A Diamond is forever" was introduced in the late 1940s, it transformed diamonds into a symbol of eternal love. Seventy years later, they still repeat the well-known slogan. But would it still be well-known if De Beers had only used it once, and never reinforced it? I’m sure it would have been forgotten by now.

For slogans like "A Diamond is forever" or "Just do it", their ongoing use is often enough to make sure they stick in the minds of consumers. But, it's not so easy for all the other things that brands want to be remembered for, but don't necessarily “verbalize”.

To address that, marketers spend a lot of time monitoring brands through quantitative consumer research – NPS, perception, loyalty, awareness, etc. Then, they benchmark the results against competitors and industry references, so they can evaluate whether they’re on the right track, or if corrective action (usually in the form of new creatives) is needed to counter decay.

It can work for design

Coming full circle back to design, I find that managing decay in the field of design is especially hard. Because design work happens at scale, with large teams and several different stakeholders. But we can definitely address it by adopting the same approach.

It starts with setting standards, which in this case means establishing and documenting strong company-wide design foundations (principles, guidelines, design system, templates, etc.). Just like Johnson's team of doctors monitors and benchmarks his organs against existing standards for perfect health, we as designers also need a reference of quality to which we can refer.

And with monitoring processes, we can benchmark new design work against those foundations. The goal is to avoid deviations, nothing should be implemented without proper approval. Ok, you cannot really avoid every deviation. They will happen and need to be corrected. But, in this step, it is equally important to understand why they happen, so that we can move from correcting every single thing, to preventing most of it - preventive measures scale much better than corrective ones.

It is difficult - or even impossible - to make sure that ideas stay unchanged throughout the process. But you can make sure that the foundational work improves over time, rather than decay.

If we can do it with cars, brands, and even people, design is no exception. It just takes discipline, a process, and a dedicated team.

I find this really profound. The thought that ideas will manifest themselves when their time has come, as if somehow ideas had a time when they were just meant to be.

It makes me wonder whether I am truly in control over my own ideas, or if it's just pure coincidence that I happen to be invested in a specific topic when the time and conditions are finally right for a specific idea to come to live. And even then, I might be just one of many, as when the time comes, it is not exclusive.

Have you ever noticed how similar products are often launched around the same time? For example, MySpace, LinkedIn, and Facebook were all introduced between 2003 and 2004. I always thought that in such situations, the most obvious reason was either corporate espionage, leaks, or maybe just competitors being competitors (AKA blatant copy). But, what if it is instead simply a matter of timing—the right time for the idea to emerge?

In the past, long before the internet existed, some significant scientific discoveries also took place at the same time. There’s even a name for it, Simultaneous Invention, the phenomenon when individuals independently invent or discover the same thing in different locations without any contact. For example, Carl Wilhelm Scheele and Joseph Priestley both discovered oxygen in the 1770s, and Charles Darwin and Alfred Russel Wallace both described natural selection independently in the 1800s. Maybe not a case of "great minds think alike", but rather that the time and conditions were likely right.

This might also be the reason why movements stylistic trends emerge, why innovators from opposite sides of the world think of similar products, why designers create similar visual identities, or writers write identical pieces of text. Ideas are rarely unique, because they don't originate in a conceptual void. They come from a collective mind of sorts—the set of impressions, news, movies, references, memes, cultural and politic events that we all share. And maybe this collective mind ultimately dictates when it’s finally time for an idea to be born.

This perspective can be a little sad, because a truly original idea might never find its time. And ideas whose time has come, are just there, waiting to be acted upon.

But it also gives me some peace of mind for not acting on every idea. From the idea's perspective, when its time has finally come, it really doesn’t matter if I take action or not, because in the end, someone will.

I'm not Spanish, but growing up just across the border, paella is something I’m definitely familiar with. Before me and my wife went vegan, we used to make it often, but . . . never as good as the 'Paella a la Marinera' my friend Felio prepared years ago on New Year's Eve.

That night, the six of us, still without kids, drank Ratsherrn and chattered in the kitchen while Felio worked his magic. Once he added the mussels, shrimps, and clams, the 'paellera' was already hot and colorful from the golden 'sofrito'. The rich scent of saffron, paprika, seafood, and the barely opened windows - it was winter after all - slowly created a dense atmosphere that took everyone in, even those who, like the rest of us, didn’t do much besides chopping onions and setting the table.

As the rice absorbed the juices and engaged in a nice and long conversation with all the other ingredients inside the paellera, I too was happy sipping my beer and catching up with good friends that I hadn’t seen in a while.

Then . . . once the paella was unveiled . . . a work of art. Not like the kind of delicate gourmet dish where each ingredient takes its place in a carefully composed canvas. No, it was brutal, chaotic, more akin to an explosion where you could still identify some bits and pieces, but it was all now mingled together. Everything transformed by the power of fire into a memorable dish.

But a good paella isn’t easy to get right. One misstep, and I guess the whole thing could have been different. The rice could have burned instead of building up a delicious crust at the bottom of the paellera. The prawns could have been dry instead of deliciously tender and juicy. The sofrito could have been burnt, saffron overused, weak fish stock… the night wouldn't be ruined, but maybe it would have been forgettable.

And what is a good brand if not a memorable dish like that paella? A dish where every component - from the rice to the prawns, from the products to the communications - is working in harmony to create a lasting impression. Not necessarily a fancy, high-end dish, but a dish that takes you in an experience so good, that any imperfections are seamlessly masked by its overall impression.

And I can say that years later, long after all was said and eaten, that 'Paella a la Marinera' still lives in my mind, just like a good brand should.

As a designer, I have no doubts about the value of design. Not just because it is the career path I chose for myself, but because designers have the ultimate goal of creating solutions that are relevant for the user or target audience. Design can also help companies communicate better what sets them apart. And even from an economic standpoint, companies whose strategy leverages design (inherently tied to proper research) have historically had better financial performance than those that do not, according to a study by McKinsey.

But just as I might say that I don't like heavy metal or that I disregard abstract art, my work, especially visual design work, has been confronted countless times with judgments like 'I don't like.' My guess is that the reason why our work is often judged on aesthetics is that designer choices are perceived by non-designers as being subjective in nature.

Then where does the value of design come from? Grounding decisions solely on subjectivity would make any design solution a hit or miss. Aesthetics matter, but taste or intuition is not what makes design valuable. The ability to inform design decisions with research insights plays a much larger role in that.

A research led process

I began studying Visual Design in 2002, but it wasn't until 2006, four years into my degree, that I developed a deep passion for design. I must say that the first few years of studying geometry, color theory, and physics were brutally boring. However, it was in 2006, during an assignment to create a branding program for a historical shopping center in the center of Lisbon, that I discovered how much I like to do research. Not only as a source of inspiration, but also as a way of finding meaning. Back then, I ordered history books, visited museums, went through old fashion catalogues and interviews. I devoured anything and everything that could provide valuable insights for the creative process.

Later, as I transitioned to my career as a designer, I quickly found that the amount of time I had for assignments during design school was not the time I had for assignments now. Research slowly got pushed to the side, and I began to question its importance. Even though that’s not what I had been taught, I started believing that it was ok to simply try things until I stumbled on something that felt right. After all, we‘re labeled as the creatives (not the thinkers).

I know that’s not how it’s supposed to be, but this happens because designers are often managed by people who view design simply as a deliverable in a transactional relationship between service provider and client. It is seen as something that must be pretty, look modern, follow a pre-determined briefing, respect timings, and often ignore everything else. It doesn’t really matter how ideas materialise, as long as they do. And in the end, everything is presented alongside a strategic argumentation, which is many times put together almost as an afterthought. Additional bias on top of subjectivity. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.

We need to understand Design as a methodology, not the outcome. A research-led process where information and insights are creatively transformed into value and meaning. Research provides the information we need to tackle problems with a deep understanding, and also the ability to better predict outcomes. By grounding decisions on research, we can remove subjectivity from the table and have discussions about our work with less personal taste in the mix. Doing and presenting research properly is how we can make sure that our design choices are not only valued, but that they can hold true value.

I’ve always been a type nerd.

During my studies I used to buy typefaces with the little money I had. I can still remember the first one. Plexes, by the Portuguese type designer Dino dos Santos. I thought its character was a good fit for an assignment I was working on at the University. To be honest, looking back I’m not sure it was.

Back then, we were taught that typography was the foundation of graphic design. One of the most, if not the most, important aspects for graphic communication. We learned that legibility is important. That typography can give texts character and personality. That it can reinforce brand recognition. We learned how to design typefaces, and also how to use them with intent.

Later, in my first job as a Designer, the search for the perfect type didn’t stop. With each project there was an urgency to find the most fitting typeface. The one that could best express the character of the brand. Be the perfect match for a logomark. Or even, improve the readability for an information piece.

Today, unfortunately typography seems to be falling out of grace. I’ve seen well known designers publicly disregard the importance of type. Maybe a consequence of a time when system fonts were always forced upon us, they make the case that any good font is good enough.

I find it saddening, and also a missed opportunity. Products, services, websites, are an integral part of a brand’s experience. Even in digital interactions, typography can aid brand recognition. It can influence how a brand is perceived by the user. It can make up for a more effective brand experience.

But nothing puts it in perspective like looking at a few examples of brands that have done it successfully and with intent.

Mercedes — Corporate

The “Corporate” font, designed by the German typographer Kurt Weidemann is instantly recognisable. It exudes prestige and history, attributes that seem fitting for a brand like Mercedes. Whenever I see the elegant condensed serif type in combination with a black background, I instantly know it is Mercedes. Today Mercedes uses the “Mercedes Benz Corpo” typeface, which I guess is an optimised version of the “Corporate” typeface.

Ericsson — Hilda

Hilda is a modern bespoke typeface by Letters from Sweden. It was designed with a focus on digital applications. Functionality and clarity first, with many features and details that are meant to improve screen performance (vertical terminals, a slashed Zero, a distinctive “I”). Hilda is a font that stands for technical expertise, but it is not cold or neutral. On the contrary, Hilda is distinctive. It has a friendly character that perfectly reflects Ericsson’s brand promise “The quest for easy”.

Match — Reckless Neue

Typography has the power to convey brand values through the choice of letter shape. That’s what Collins did in the visual identity they developed for Match, an online dating service. In a sector characterised by products that are no more than a means to an end, Match is a breath of fresh hair. It feels inviting, playful, intimate. And the Typography plays a major role. “Reckless Neue”, is an elegant typeface that hints to Romanticism. Even the logo wordmark (based on “Wulkan Display”) hints at connection, with the “a” leaning towards the “m”. It’s about finding love, not a one night stand.

Times have definitely changed, but typography still matters.
It mattered before digital, but it still matters a lot today.

Thank you for reading!
David

Few people can correctly recall how the logo of a certain brand looks like. But everyone can remember brand names just right.

A name is an essential part of what makes a brand. Names provide identity, help organisations stand out, and they can also play an important role in telling consumers what to expect. Getting the brand name right is vital, but finding the right one is not an easy task at all.

In part, because available names are getting scarcer. Every business, every startup, every website needs a name. Just in 2019 alone, almost 12 million trademark applications were filled worldwide. And that number has been steadily increasing year over year.

The difficulty in finding trademarkable names, might make it seem like appropriateness and availability are the most important criteria that a name needs to fulfil. But the right brand name needs to work much harder.

The right name tells consumers what to expect

When we name a brand, we are making the first conscious decision to influence how it is perceived by the consumer. That’s why brand names should tell something meaningful. Something that strips all the layers off, and communicates directly from the essence of the brand. The brand Nike for example, is set on the idea of making everyone feel like they can be a winner. And that core idea permeates everything, from the slogan (“Just do it”) and communication, to the brand name itself - Nike, the Greek goddess of victory.

A name is one of the most important opportunities to highlight what makes a brand special. Because in many situations a name is all there is. One word to communicate what an organisation stands for.

The right name is future proof

Reginald Kenneth Dwight changed his name to Elton John. Lucky and Goldstar had its name changed in 1995 to LG. Google was once called Backrub. Pepsi was Brad’s Drink. 

Names can change, but just how often do they?

In the business world change is normal and often a matter of survival. Some well known companies have completely reinvented the scope of their offer, or changed names, in order to adapt to changing market dynamics or pursue more lucrative business opportunities.

Changing name can increase success chances by supporting new associations or a repositioning. But examples like Xerox are the exception, not the norm. Once businesses are established, a brand name will often stay untouched for a very long time.

It is a gigantic risk if you think about it. It almost always requires a massive communication effort, and will most definitely erode the existing brand equity and perception. That is why it is important to get it right from the start, and choose a name that gives a business enough room for growth, rather than restrict it. Because names can change, but they very rarely do.

The right name is aligned with business strategy

With the accelerating expansion of the competitive landscape, it is also increasingly challenging to find a name that stands out from competitors. But that’s not always the intention. Sometimes providing guidance, or the ability to fit within a certain category, are factors more aligned with the business strategy than assuming the role of a challenger.

A descriptive brand name can do a better job at guiding consumers than a more evocative name. That’s the case with sub-brands, where it is often more important that the consumer quickly understands what the new product and service is all about, e.g., Google Mail, Google Maps, Google Translate. Descriptive names can also help position a product or service as an alternative rather than a competitor. That is the case with supermarket own brands.

On the other hand, bold and evocative names can help a brand cut through the clutter, but also require a larger investment and communication support to bring them to life. Otherwise one risks having a brand name that is neither easy to understand nor meaningfully differentiated.

Developing a name, is one of the most important aspects of brand creation. The right brand name can help clarify a brand, tell audiences what to expect and even provide a clear competitive edge. On the contrary, a bad brand name can have a long lasting negative impact on the future of a business.

Thank you for reading!

David

“Your brand is what people say about you when you are not in the room”

I’ve seen this statement from Jeff Bezos being used in presentations and articles several times. There’s something in it that seems to resonate with marketing and branding professionals. It shifts your perception and makes you think that maybe you were wrong all the way. Because to some extent it speaks the truth. A logo does not make a brand. But is Brand really just about perception?

Right or wrong, Jeff Bezos is not alone in his opinion. Several brand experts have expressed a similar understanding of Brand as a set of associations in the customer mind.

"A Brand is the set of expectations, memories, stories and relationships that, taken together account for a consumer’s decision to choose one product or service over another" - David Aaker, author of Aaker on Branding

"A brand is a singular idea or concept that you own inside the mind of a prospect" - Al Ries, author of Positioning

"A person's perception of a product, Service, experience or organization; a commercial reputation" - Marty Neumeier, author of The Brand Gap

These opinions assume that the concept of Brand exists primarily as a reaction to an action, a response from customers to a stimulus from an organization.

But in the daily business of agencies, in the world of designers and organizations, brands are often discussed in dimensions that go beyond the way they are perceived. Inside agencies, the term brand is thrown around to describe various topics that span from core ideology to the way a brand expresses itself.

Then what does brand really mean?

The definition of brand is not easy to agree on. Because, although universally used, its meaning and its use have changed drastically throughout history.

What was initially a term mainly related to a mark of ownership, origin or a claim of property (“to brand”) evolved during the industrial revolution to become a symbol of added value, differentiating one factory goods from competing ones.

But it was not until the “Mad Men” era that brand started to be understood as perception, when Marketeers realized that advertising was useful not just to create needs or raise awareness, but also to influence the reputation a certain brand or product has. A brand started to be understood not as what organizations claim it is but as what their customers perceive it is.

But perception is subjective

The acknowledgment of brand as perception is set on the idea that there's one generalized perception of a given brand. One idea that one organization owns inside the consumer’s mind.

But take for example a complex brand such as Microsoft. For some users Microsoft is the company that makes Windows, Word, Excel and PowerPoint. For others it might be the company who’s unsuccessfully trying to challenge Apple in the premium computers segment. For some it might be the the best employer or the most reliable business partner. But for others it is just guaranteed fun with the Xbox.

All these different stakeholders perceive the brand differently. Some think of Microsoft as dynamic, others as dull.

Don’t take me wrong. Perception is one of the key measures of the effectiveness of a brand. And the desired perception can be one of the most important drivers in defining a brand strategy. But although extremely important, perception can also be equally subjective. It can change based on individual, context and other factors such as tribalism.

Brands are multidimensional

Today brand is a fluid concept. Part verb, part noun. It means everything but anything. It’s the verbal identity and the logo. It’s the promises and the reason whys. The purpose, the vision and the mission. It is all of it but none of it. It is instead, as we’ve seen before, the other side of the equation. The communications, the products and the experience. It is the expectations, the perception and the reputation. It is the position it occupies inside the consumers’ mind.

Different branding experts and marketing teams take all of this, and create different styles of brand platforms, populating graphics that resemble onions and pyramids with the terms and components that they find to be the most relevant.

But maybe there’s some truth to all of it.

Brand has evolved to be a complex framework that comprises many dimensions. That’s the reason why trying to reduce the discussion to what brand is, and what it is not, just adds confusion. It makes processes unclear and it dilutes meaningful conversations about the topic. 

Brand is all of it

Brand is not just the response to a stimulus.
Brand is also the stimulus itself.

What consumers think about a brand, how they perceive it, is decisive. But that perception is always defined by the experiences they’ve shared with the brand. And defining the rules, guidelines and principles that allow us to create on-brand experiences, is only possible with a clear understanding of what a brand is and what it stands for - the brand identity.

Brand is the identity, experience and perception of a commercial, corporate or cultural entity.

I like to think of brand as this cycle of Identity, Experience and Perception. A cycle that goes from the definition and creation of the brand identity to the way it is experienced and understood by the public. A cycle that can help creating and managing brands effectively and holistically.

Jeff Bezos is somehow right. It’s true that Brands live in people’s minds.
But they are created and experienced somewhere else.

I think that there is nothing more inspiring than a good conversation. But how often throughout our busy days, do we really get to slow down and have a deep and meaningful conversation about Design?

Not very often if you ask me. That's why I like podcasts.
I really enjoy listening to talented people talk passionately about Design. You are not there but as a listener you still feel like part of the conversation.

And they help me make the most of my 30 minute daily commute to and from work. That's the time I usually devote to listening the latest episodes of my favorite podcasts. Starting the day listening to different ideas, solutions or just catching up with what’s going on in the design world, really sets me up. 

And for those of you that also like listening to what other designers are thinking and doing, I have compiled a list of the podcasts you should be subscribing to. They're full of inspiration, insights and advice. I'm sure you'll learn something new! 

Hope you enjoy.

How Brands are Built 

There aren’t many podcasts on brand strategy that are as hands on as How Brands are Built. Like the name implies this is where branding professionals from the likes of Marty Neumeier and David Aaker face the mic and talk about their experience, processes and inspiration. 

Meet the Creatives

As Rob puts it Meet the Creatives is "that seeks to bridge the gap between entry-level creative professionals and the industry's best".

Presentable

The podcast hosted by Jeff Venn focuses on what goes behind the digital products we use. Presentable hosts designers, developers, builders, to discuss trends, methods and tools used around the world.

UXPodcast

James and Per dive deep on all sorts of topics related to User Experience Design. UXPodcast is published twice a month and has hosted conversations with guests such as Marc Stickdorn (co-author of This is Service Design) and Mike Monteiro. It is packed with insights about business, technology, people, and a touch of Swedish culture.

Clever Podcast

In Clever, Amy Devers and Jaime Derringer (from Design Milk) have candid and revealing chats with all different sorts of Designers and creatives. I really like the intimate style of the conversations how the guests always share personal moments about their lives and journey into Design. The only negative is that the somewhat repetitive format makes it hard to binge listening (if that’s even a term). 

Dribbble Overtime

Overtime is now hosted by Meg Lewis, an independent designer with a love for comedy and an effervescent personality. It is entertaining, fun and full of insights.

I'll try my best to keep the list updated. So if you have any suggestions, or know of any interesting design podcasts that should be in this list, please answer the following survey. 

Have a great day,
David

As a designer I frequently judge brands on how I experience them visually. But experiencing a brand is not only about what you see. It’s not only about logos, color schemes or nice typographies. We can’t separate the way we experience a brand from the products it sells, the services it offers, the way it treats us or how it makes us feel.

Same same but different

Today, due to globalisation and free-market dynamics, we have a lot of products and services to choose from. But the free flow of people, products, information, doesn't come without its perils. The ideas that make products or services unique, are nowadays easily copied. Technological advances, can be reverse-engineered. Production, outsourced. And prices, quickly matched or undercut.

Products and services, are becoming growingly ineffective as the sole carrier of a differentiating value proposition. As a consequence, consumers are left looking for something else that can help them make a purchasing decision. On the other hand, without relevant product or service differentiation, businesses also search for other sources of value that can attract and inspire customers' loyalty.

So in such an over-saturated market, how can businesses inspire consumers to choose one brand over the other?

How brands make us feel

We tend to think of all our decisions as rational. But decisions can also be deeply rooted on emotions. And this is known science. A renowned Portuguese neuroscientist, Antonio Damásio, and his team have studied patients with brain damage, specifically to areas of the brain responsible for emotional processing. They found out, that these patients, unable to process emotions, were also unable to make decisions.

Specifics aside, emotions can have a very strong influence on the neural faculties that allow us to make decisions. They help us filter through the clutter, through all the different possibilities. They help us make the choices, that we expect to be the most emotionally advantageous. For patients without this capacity, even choices as mundane as picking what to eat for dinner, can be deeply overwhelming.

Subconsciously, emotional logic is one of the strongest factors in how we buy products and services. For that reason, brands can find a reliable source of competitive advantage in delivering emotional value. In a much more effective way than, for example, selling a pair of shoes that is more comfortable, or that costs 20€ less.

In reality, we often choose brands because there's something deeper that resonates with us. Something that inspires us. 

The power of brand narratives

Everyone can make sport shoes. If you go to a sports store, there’s a multi-brand display of sneakers that look the same. Feel the same and have very similar prices.

But no other sports brand has achieved the social impact and following that Nike has. It has changed minds and habits. It has become the symbol of the inner athlete that we all have. Its aim is to make every single one of us feel like a winner. To feel like we can get up, overcome adversities and “Just do it”. It is a powerful idea that sits in the core of the brand, and also an engaging story.

We buy into those narratives. They fulfil our desire to belong, to be a character in those stories. They make us feel like a better version of ourselves. And we associate or transfer those positive emotional states to the brand itself. Such relevant value proposition can persuade us to overlook price, personal taste and even product similarities.

How brands treat us

If we think of brand as a story, branding would be the delivery of that story. And to that extent, visual design plays an important role. Strategic messages and inspiring narratives can deliver emotional value. But that effect won’t last long if the customer experience doesn’t live up to it.

Successful brands understand the importance of feelings and emotions in the customer experience. Every single interaction customers have with a brand is an opportunity to leave a lasting impression on the mind.

When we feel welcomed. When our needs are met. When our expectations are exceeded. When each moment of the customer experience provides relevant emotional value, we are likely to recommend the brand and also to purchase again. That’s partly why brands like Starbucks are so successful - not because of its average quality coffees.

The customer service also plays an essential role in that journey. It is one of the best opportunities to have a brand be perceived with human characteristics. With feelings and emotions. Even if it's not a person on the other side. Even if it's just the way a service is designed to anticipate our needs. Having customers feel like they are heard, understood, and cared for, is one of the most effective ways to establish deep emotional bonds.

Great customer service can keep customers loyal to brands. But a bad one can drive them away as fast. It's the reason why we keep going to certain shops but avoid others. It’s why I keep shopping on Amazon, but avoid flying with Ryanair.

Putting the customer first

One of the six core values that define Amazon’s brand is Customer obsession. Jeff Bezos is known for reviewing press releases and product descriptions, crossing anything that does not speak positively to the consumer.

And this doesn’t come as a surprise once you realise that Amazon’s brand vision is to be Earth’s most customer-centric company. Everything they do is with the aspiration of fulfilling this vision. Their service is reliable, with an offering that goes from “A to Z”.

And they have a stellar customer service. No problem goes unsolved, and you’re treated with a friendliness that makes you feel understood and in good company. It’s not a coincidence that they have a smile as part of their logo.

As result, there’s a certain sense of proudness when you mention you bought something on Amazon. It makes you feel like a digital citizen, one that lives a busy life and values convenience.

Delivering emotional value in how you treat your customers can also create enduring emotional bonds. And like with Nike loyal customers will even overlook price or personal taste in favour of Amazon's curated experience. Often settling for alternative products they find there.

Those that neglect emotional value

Ryanair aims to be the Amazon of Travel in Europe, according to its CMO Kenny Jacobs. But contrary to Amazon, the budget airline never placed the customer at the center of their brand. Actually the majority of Ryanair’s customer base, has little affection for the brand and the experience it offers. They don't choose Ryanair because it offers a great service. They choose Ryanair because it is cheap.

Ryanair’s CMO has even famously argued that brands don’t need to be loved to win over consumers. It’s an interesting boast, considering their current situation. Facing constant strikes and cancelled flights, passengers hit constantly at the airline. But for Ryanair’s customers this is a know risk they willingly take for a cheap flight.

That’s what Ryanair and its brand is all about. A no frills experience and low fares. But it seems that in the process they make everyone feel cheap too. Not only customers, but every stakeholder. They offer poor working conditions and low wages. Flight crew is often subcontracted and needs to compete for in-flight sales. The customer experience involves paying for every add-on you might need. Sitting together with your traveling partner won’t happen for free. And if something goes wrong, you will face gigantic queues and a virtually inaccessible customer support.

Price is one of the defining criteria for the low-cost travel category. But although disruptive and innovative in the way Ryanair set its expansion and low fares, can a brand sustainably prosper when their business practices and brand strategy offers negative emotional value instead of positive?  In such a competitive landscape, is price enough for a long-lasting competitive advantage? 

The way brands make us feel is a strong force. It shapes our perception and can turn us into loyal customers. Although I agree that not every brand needs to be loved, neglecting emotional value might cause more harm than good. And eventually even leave businesses vulnerable to external threats.

Thank you for reading!

David

This article was originally published on Muzli, a design publication by InVision

You know the drill. A new project starts. Timings are tight. You look for insights, surround yourself with research. Anxiety starts taking over. You look at the problem from different perspectives. Upside down, left and right. And then, while pouring yourself a good cup of coffee, aHa! the moment finally arrives. You’ve nailed it. Later on, while confidently presenting your idea, someone eviscerates your ego with a cruel “It reminds me of something”.

For me, designing a logo, the visual representation of a given entity, has always been an endeavour through simplicity. I can’t help it. I like simple things. And I think I’m not alone. Look at the most celebrated brands in the world — simple visual metaphors. Look at all the recent trends not only in graphic or visual design but also in product design. Flat design. Simplicity. Minimalism.

Good logos to be simple, iconic and smart. And obviously, they must be a good fit. They should tell a story that is appropriate to the entities they represent.

But aren’t logos supposed to be unique?

In a way, the purpose of logos is to identify a company's products and services and distinguish them from its competitors. Therefore, it is important for logos to be unique. However, I question the feasibility of aiming for the absolutely unique, never-before-seen logo. Nowadays, you just can't be sure.

Apart from the intrinsic dynamics of capitalism, entrepreneurship is the new global norm. Everyone is looking to strike out on their own, to invent their own future. Start a business. Have an online shop. Build an app. Create a new brand.

The number of websites worldwide has already passed the 1 billion milestone. Over 100 million businesses are started every year. And not to mention the number of apps hitting the App Store every day. And you know what? Nearly every single one has a logo.

The sheer number of existing logos sets us on an unrealistic search for uniqueness. More often than not, that great idea you have has already been done.

Think about the vast number of designers and agencies working on projects for similar clients around the world. We all visit the same websites, read the same books, watch the same shows, have the same education, references, influences, idols. It will be similar. It's only natural.

To illustrate this, imagine asking different bakers to make a bunch of cupcakes. You would get a vast variety of different tastes and colors. But in the end, they're just a bunch of similar-looking cupcakes.

The simpler the execution of a logo is, the more likely it is that you'll find numerous similar solutions. Finding a balance between simplicity and uniqueness has become the most difficult-to-solve identity design paradox.

So, what do about it?

Bear in mind that similar logos are not always problematic. You need to take into consideration aspects such as the degree of similarity, the industry in which both companies operate, and whether or not they are competitors. And most importantly, could their customers become confused in the end? 

Because, in the end, that is what matters. A unique logo should be distinctive in the minds of the target audience compared to other choices in the market, not necessarily unique among the countless number of companies in the world. 

That being said, I have tried to summarise some personal logo design tips that might help you create something - who knows - somewhat unique.

1. Stay true to the brand

The first step in creating a unique logo is to understand the essence of the brand. What is the purpose of the brand? Who is the target audience? What values define the brand? All of these aspects shape the brand's identity and help differentiate it from its competitors. We can use the brand's essence and what sets it apart as inspiration to creating a logo that is both distinctive and representative.

If you are not provided with a framework containing this type of information before starting the project, you can work together with your client to define it. If you do not know where to begin, I can recommend the "Three-Hour Brand Sprint," a well-documented and useful set of brand exercises that can help you get started.

Such a framework is often called a Brand Model or Brand Framework and basically consists of a diagram that summarises all the elements that make up the brand identity. I think it is one of the most valuable tools in the ideation process, mostly because it serves as both inspiration and a compass in the creative process. There's no formulaic approach to using it, but I often end up asking myself questions like "Does this look fit the personality that we've defined? Is the story behind the symbol aligned with the Brand Mission?". I usually include Vision, Mission, Values, Attributes, and Personality, though other designers and branding professionals may incorporate additional or different elements.

2. Be aware of the competitors

It always helps me to gain some perspective. When you realise that most clients and brands are acting locally rather than globally, it becomes clear that you should focus on the specific market they are in, rather than the entire world. You need to consider your client's competitors, not every company on the other side of the world. Meticulously research them, including their logos, colours used, and visual metaphors. Study them deeply and keep them in mind throughout the entire process.

By understanding what other companies in the same industry are doing, you can avoid falling into common design clichés. A brand should strive to occupy a unique place in the market, and having a unique logo is an important aspect of setting it apart from its competitors.

Below, you will find two monograms from two well-known international design agencies. Although not a case of plagiarism, both the aesthetic and the colours used are similar enough to suggest a missed opportunity in differentiating their brands.

3. Use reverse image search

Conducting a comprehensive trademark screening can be costly and time-consuming. It is a specialized service provided by trademark lawyers and is very often not even offered by design agencies. Thus, it should not be the designer’s burden to research and be aware of all logos available in the world. I’m not saying that copying something is okay, but it’s not your task to ensure that something you create has never been seen before.

That said, you can perform a rudimentary screening using Google reverse image search. It is a tool that helps you find similar images on the internet. Go to Google Images, click on the camera icon, upload an image of the logo you’ve designed, and cross your fingers. It has helped me veto ideas that I thought were good only to find out they were kind of common. If you feel like diving deeper, you can also conduct a reverse image search strategy on TMview, a tool from the European Union Intellectual Property Network that lets you search trademarks in their database.

These are valuable tools, but they can also be heart-shattering for a creative. Don't let your creativity be discouraged by the fear of finding something similar.

Creating a unique logo is difficult and requires careful consideration and research. But I believe that with these tips - staying true to the brand, being aware of the competitors, and utilising tools like reverse image search - you have higher chances of creating something that can stand out in a saturated market. While absolute uniqueness may be challenging to achieve, creating a logo that is distinct and representative of the brand is the ultimate goal.