
Design is Hard.
That is an established fact, or at least every designer knows it.
Even when the stakes are standard, the process is demanding. It usually goes like this: you get the brief, you ask clarifying questions (there are always clarifying questions), and then you start to ideate.
Some creatives jump straight into Pinterest or Behance to look for visual inspiration. Others start with mind-mapping or word-mapping. This is essentially where we take words from the brief or client conversations and try to build a visual world around them.
For example, thinking of the word "Glass" immediately brings to mind specific imagery: windows, layered panes, or mosaics. It might remind you of glass cutlery, furniture, or awards stored in a cabinet. If you’re a nerd like me, you might even go back to the origins of the material (its chief ingredient being silica sand) and the process used to procure it.
This is the standard process. But here is my question for you: What do you see when you think of the word "Electricity"?
I’m guessing your first few thoughts were either lightning, a light bulb, or a wall socket. Great! We’re all on the same page. The beautiful thing about this, however, is that aside from lightning, which is a raw and wild manifestation, everything else you pictured is a physical vessel used to harness electricity, not the product itself.
And therein lies the problem: How do you design for a brand that builds around something no one can see? Particularly when the only visible identifiers are too commonplace to help a brand stand out from the competition?
This has been a real struggle in my time here at PowerLabs, and specifically in the time I’ve spent designing for the energy industry.
Before joining PowerLabs, I never had a formal reason to design for the energy industry, but it was something I often pondered. I have a habit of daydreaming about how I would tackle design challenges for industries I haven’t touched yet. It is a lot like solving chess puzzles: even when you aren't playing a match, you visualize the board, anticipate the moves, and figure out how to solve a specific scenario to come out ahead. I used to run these mental simulations for the energy sector, wondering how I would approach it if ever given the chance.
For some industries, the answer comes quickly; there are a dozen ways to approach the problem. But when there is no physical manifestation of the product, it is much more challenging. Initial solutions feel overspent, like you’ve seen them a million times before.
However, working here has opened my eyes to just how incredible electricity is.
In an effort to understand the product I am servicing, I read a book called The Grid by Gretchen Bakke. It was a genuine eye-opener. Learning how the electrical grid was first explored, how it became mainstream in America, and how its current failings threaten to turn a key piece of infrastructure into an aging monolith was a fascinating experience.
It felt like my worldview expanded. Electricity as a concept felt much more real to me, even though I came to understand that its nature is the most ephemeral of existences. It is here, now, all at once, and then gone the next instant. It’s crazy to think about and difficult to wrap your head around, which is probably why I was never too good at physics!
But then, I understood it better.
Because I understood the product, I understood why there are so few representations of electricity in the world other than lightning bolts and wires. I could explain my design choices better and ideate further than I could have without that knowledge.
That is when I figured out how designing invisible products works. You simply need a higher vantage point.
You need to read more about the product. You must go deeper, go further, and obsess about the makings, history, and details of it. It is very hard to make sense of a product you cannot see or experience with your usual senses; you need to draw inferences from a deep well of knowledge.
You can appreciate the ocean by standing on the beach, looking at the waves and the lovely way they ebb and flow. But you gain a much deeper appreciation for it when you dive in and see the whole ecosystem living within that wide blue expanse.
Design is hard, terribly so. But deep knowledge of what you’re working on makes you a lot more prepared for the challenge.