Designers can wear many hats. Depending on the designer, one hat might fit a bit better than others — but, in general, we’ve become adept at sporting a good variety of headgear: that of a strategist, writer, researcher, photographer, illustrator, programmer, craftsman, aesthete, typographer, production manager, information-architect, etc.
However, knowing which hat to wear for which occasion can sometimes present a challenge. Because we’re so used to doing everything, when we need to interface with other team-members in very specific ways, collaboration can become challenging... or more specifically, identifying the type of collaboration needed can become challenging.
In his book, The Ten Faces of Innovation, Tom Kelley details the archetypes he’s run across in his life at IDEO. On design teams, we might add two more: The design collaborator and the collaborative designer. While they might seem similar, the role and result of each can be very different… and you might find yourself wearing different hats at different times and deciding which type of collaborator you need to be.
The design collaborator is often a bit of soloist and reports back only when there’s an issue. If they assemble ancillary teams, they'll often still be the arbiter of the research — not because they don’t value democracy, but because it’s not specifically part of the process that they’re immediately engaged in. They have the materials they need to sort and sift and make something awesome.
The hat of the collaborative designer is chosen when there are other designers in the room and the end result needs to leverage the best of each team member to deliver an end product that has less of a monogram-style stamp on it, but is more of a collective effort. Some student projects/classes are run like this — our Packaging-4 class, for example.
The challenge of the collaborative designer is not looking at raw elements and translating it into design, but often looking at design itself and making better design out of it. The collaborative designer is working on a team with other collaborative designers who are together sorting good design and making it great. Each designer might have a specific angle, but each is a designer in their own right (and each juggling their own hat-wearing challenges) and there’s a level of diplomacy that needs to be maintained — and the successes are shared. Often the design output does not have a singular stamp but a collective one and it’s often a 2.0 version or beyond.
A personal example: Starting in a small studio, much of the production management work fell on the shoulders of the designers. I became used to handling calls from vendors and dealing with the “business end" of things — and my clients (and boss) loved it because they didn’t have to deal with it and it gave them room to do other things like run their business or broker new jobs for the studio. I was wearing the hat of the design collaborator. I had a problem to solve. I was given marching orders by a client. I had to figure it out, stem-to-stern, was expected to check back when there was a problem (but otherwise run with it)... and get the job done.
Even when stepping into the corporate world at Gap Inc., this carried over because we were still a small team with limited production management resources. I was very hands-on with the bidding process, brokering and buying of paper, press checks, etc… far more than many designers would ever be, especially at the corporate level. It was fun, though. I was still wearing the hat of the design collaborator and had to figure it all out. I had the marching orders of my business partners (clients): design systems to maintain, communication objectives to meet, corporate standards to fall within, aesthetics to meet the individual team’s hopes, budgets to stay within, etc.
However, when I moved to Banana Republic, I met Jan. Jan had been a production manager longer than I’d been able to tie my shoes and she knew the business better than anyone. She was a pro. She was good at her job. I was good at my job, too. I was a good designer. I could connect audiences to messages with the intended result. You’d think we’d be a perfect pair, right?… and eventually we were. But at first, there was a lot of friction. Why? Totally my fault — I forgot to change my hat. I was still wearing the hat of design collaborator and I needed to be wearing the hat of a collaborative designer.
I was trying to do too much of her job. I was taking liberties and disrespecting where my role and her role met. I didn’t mean disrespect — in fact, I thought I was being helpful. In her eyes, though (and she was right), I wasn’t being a team-player and was trying to be a solo-artist. I wasn’t leaving room for her to do what she did best and although I was considering her point-of-view (and I thought that was enough), I wasn't actually incorporating it — and there is a significant difference. I also didn’t have view of the entire picture. I was doing a good job of covering the view I had of the scene, but she had a much more holistic view that needed to be incorporated that I had not considered.
After I changed my hat, things turned around completely. Jan and I worked much better together and we not only became better team-mates who created better design overall (that we were both proud of), but we were proud of the collaboration itself. When I began to incorporate her feedback, our work became better. It wasn't as much my own, but it worked better for the entirety of the organization (some of which I didn't have visibility to). We also established a good bit of trust... and later friendship.*
In your world as a designer, you'll work with other professionals like Jan who will have complementary skill sets. It's fairly easy to draw lines there. You'll also work with other designers on team projects. It's much harder to draw lines there as your skill sets will overlap a bit more, but it's even more important to wear the hat of the collaborative designer in these instances.
You'll also work for people who will want you to manage the design process entirely — from small projects to entire design teams which will force you to change your hat again to that of a design collaborator and to figure it all out. This is also an important role and will give you an entirely different sense of accomplishment and a different set of stories to tell your grandchildren.
You'll be switching hats a lot.
All designers can do great work — but picking hats can often be challenging for them. Both hats are important. It’s more important that you wear the right hat at the right time.
*… and almost 15 years later, I still ran the above by her for approval… her response: "Awww I remember it well. You've hit it spot on. Got to work together as a team utilizing and embracing each other's strengths. Everyone brings something too the table and once all can establish that the end result is usually positive.”
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