In my last blog post, I talked about visual noise and the overwhelming overload of signs, ads, posts, and designs we take in every single day. But lately, I’ve been thinking less about how we experience this as viewers and more about how we contribute to it as designers.
It feels strange: we’re trained to create, to fill space, to communicate. But at what point does that contribution start to become part of the problem?
Instead of fighting the clutter, what if we curated it? As designers, we have the tools to make sense of noise and not by erasing it, but by reframing it. We live in a world where design is everywhere. Good design, even. But instead of inspiring, it’s starting to exhaust. As a designer, I’ve found myself stuck between two questions: Why does everything look the same? and Why does it feel like too much?
I want to take this frustration and explore it further:
How do we design in a time where everything is designed?
Here are a few directions I’m thinking about:
1. Designing for Subtraction, not Addition
What if instead of adding new visuals, we removed something? Could communication design be about making space instead of filling it? For example, creating posters or publications that invite people to erase, cut out, cover, or reuse parts leaving the final outcome unfinished, open, and collaborative.
2. Designing with Found Visuals
What if the design process began not with a blank canvas but with what’s already out there? I’ve been photographing torn posters, scuffed signs, scribbles on paper, things that are already “designed” by the city, time, and people. A project could emerge from these materials. A collage zine, a typography experiment, or even a visual system built from existing fragments rather than new creations.
3. Creating Visual Silence
In a world that shouts, maybe the most powerful thing a designer can do is say nothing. Could we explore formats that use white space, emptiness, or subtle cues to communicate? A type experiment where the type nearly disappears. A print project that works with fading ink, wear and tear. Design that invites rest.
4. Slow and Delayed Design
What if design didn’t have to be instant? What if the reader had to wait, or interact slowly, to fully understand it? We could explore this through delayed-reveal formats like risograph prints that change with layering, or digital zines where parts of the interface become visible over time.
These are not finished ideas. But they are responses. Not to solve the problem of design fatigue, but to live with it differently. Instead of asking how we stand out in a loud world, maybe we can ask: How can design help us breathe in it?
Sources
- Manzini, Ezio. Design, When Everybody Designs. MIT Press, 2015.
- Sennett, Richard. The Craftsman. Yale University Press, 2008.
- Müller, Lars. Do You Read Me?. Lars Müller Publishers, 2019.
- Ghodsee, Kristen. Why Women Have Better Sex Under Socialism. Bold Type Books, 2018. (Referenced in discussions around overstimulation and attention economy)
