Impulse no8: Playing The Fool

I first watched Ethan Hawke’s TED Talk Give Yourself Permission to Be Creative quite a while ago. Long enough that I don’t really remember what made me watch it but I did. And what stuck with me is the quiet persistence of its message. It left an impression on me, so much so that I bookmarked it in my browser and even though I don’t watch it regularly, every now and then, even now, months later, I find myself thinking about it.

He opens the talk with the fact that creativity isn’t reserved for the talented, the trained, or the publicly successful. Because it’s not about being good. Instead, creativity is something deeply human — a way of making sense of experience, of reaching toward connection, of expressing something that would otherwise remain unspoken. That idea shifted something in me. It loosened the quiet pressure of having to justify to myself whether what I wanted to make was going to have any value, either to me or others.

Hawke talks about how many of us hesitate to create because we’re worried about judgment — whether what we make will matter, whether it will be taken seriously, whether it proves anything about our worth, something that resonated deeply with me and still does sometimes. So much creative energy got trapped in the question: Will it be good enough? And anytime that question dominates, nothing begins.

One of the most uncomfortable ideas in the talk is also one of the most freeing: the willingness to look foolish. To play the fool, as Hawke puts it. To make something imperfect, uncertain, maybe even embarrassing — and to do it anyway. I realized how rarely I allowed myself that space. I wanted ideas to arrive already formed, already defensible, already safe, to not embarrass myself in front of my peers. And changing that mindset, getting over that fear takes a lot of work. Maybe a lifetime of it.

Another line that stayed with me is the notion that there is no clear path — that the path only appears once you start walking. I used to, and still often, believe that I need a plan before beginning something creative. A concept, a direction, a reason especially. But each time again, I’m shown how much meaning and direction emerges after the first few steps, not before.

Over the past year, one idea from the talk has become especially important to me: giving yourself permission to be good instead of perfect.

It sounds really simple but turns out to be something that needs reminding constantly!

Perfection feels safe. It promises protection from judgment. It delays the moment when something unfinished has to meet the world. Choosing “good” instead of “perfect” means accepting visibility, uncertainty, and the real possibility of failure. It means finishing things. Sharing things. Letting them be incomplete reflections of who you are right now.

And that is uncomfortable, but rewarding.

But looking back after nearly a year of trying, and failing (a lot), I’m reminded of why it’s worth the effort. Because allowing yourself to be good instead of perfect makes work feel lighter. It means you create more and I can now even feel curiosity replacing pressure sometimes. Slowly but surely being creative starts to feel like something I just am and not something I need to do to prove myself.

It’s hard to overstate the impact of Hawke’s TED Talk. I am reminded of it often especially in moments where the fear of embarrassment keeps me from creating. And sometimes I can convince myself to play the fool and do it anyway. Not always but more often than a year ago. And each time I do it has been a gain in one way or another.

Impulse no7: Enshittification

I recently started reading parts of the book Enshittification. The title sounds crude but it did its job by catching my eye. Also it’s something that I think we all feel in our bones is happening. I mean, doesn’t it feel like almost every digital product gets worse over time?

In the beginning, things are always clean, filled with useful features, not too many ads, not too much pressure. You download something and it’s nice, looks good and just works. Obviously that’s the phase where companies sometimes sell at a loss and are extra nice to get as many people to sign up as quick as possible.

Then eventually things start to shift. You get shown more ads, there are suddenly pop-ups, features that were once free disappear behind subscription paywalls and/or an algorithm gets introduced that noone really asked for. Not all at once but slowly so everybody has time to get used to the latest shittification before the next gets introduced.

Reading the book felt a bit like hearing what I was feeling anyway. Products don’t seem to stay good. They get optimized, monetized, stretched, squeezed until what is left is just a worse and more expensive product. And I think we all notice it. We complain about it to friends (or at least I do).

But we still keep using everything.

And that feels like the weirdest part. There’s this shared feeling that things are getting shittier, but also this shared acceptance that this is just how it is. Like it’s bad weather you can’t change.
While reading, I kept thinking about how normal this has become. Not even shocking or scandalous anymore. Just normal, which is kinda depressing if you think about it too long, no?

What’s just as depressing is how many intentional decisions are behind this slow decline. None of this appears by accident. Someone designs these extra steps, someone decides where the ad goes and someone removes the privacy settings that used to be easy to find. It’s all intentional, even if it’s framed as “improving the experience” or whatever.

I don’t even read this in a super dramatic moral way. It’s more like noticing a pattern that’s been sitting in the background for years. It feels obvious. Of course this keeps happening. Of course growth and profit push things in this direction. Of course users are not really the priority forever.

Still, there’s something interesting about putting a clear name on this shared feeling. We all feel that menus get more confusing or question why instagram changes the menu bar around for the xth time ,because why?? Choices also get more limited unless you pay. And it’s not just one specific app, it’s every app.

I’m not even sure what the right reaction is. Delete everything? Maybe. Accept it? Not great.
Noticing and becoming aware of it seems like a good first step.

So yeah, that’s where I’m at after reading a few parts of this book. Not a huge revelation, more like a vague confirmation of a feeling that was already there. But it does reinforce a rebellious feeling inside of me to do better with my design and to never be part of an enshittification process for the sake of money-making.

Impulse no6: Cloud Script

A while ago I saw an interesting post on instagram where someone interpreted elements of nature into letters thus being able to kind of “encode” a message into what looked like a field of flowers at first.
I was a big fan of that right off the start and began working on my own “natural” typeface which I dubbed Cloud Script. In short: it utilizes the upper arc of a painted cloud and applies distinct but cloudlike shapes to form a unique cloud shape which can be decoded into a word. One cloud equals one word.

Have a quick look at the decoding table:

The individual letters connect, kind of like cursive, with the goal of creating a beautiful cloud. Size and spacing of each letter has no bearing on the meaning of the word but only serves to make the cloud look better. In addition each cloud can be adorned with stars, smaller, non-descriptive clouds, and more to be made to look like a beautiful drawing rather than a message. Here’s an example:
(focus one the upper arc of the cloud, anything inside and outside of the cloud is just decoration)

Excuse me if you decoded it, it’s a bad word but it’s the only example I had at hand.

This little exercise in creating a new whimsical font was a refreshing change from designing things that were “optimal” or perfectly user-friendly, instead focusing purely on aesthetics and how beautiful one can make a cloud. It couldn’t be rushed or made more efficient without destroying the core idea and purpose of it. Instead one had to slow down, maybe redraw and iterate on one cloud a couple of times which could result in a writing speed of 0.1 words per minute.
Also I don’t think that anyone reads these blogposts so Fabry if you’re reading this send me something in cloudscript. Byye

Impulse no5: La Divina Comedia and reframing traditional experiences

There is a certain ritual to going to the opera, I feel… you dress slightly better than usual, you arrive early, you find your seat, you sit down, and you give yourself to the whim of what the opera provides you with. The space is clearly defined: performers on stage, audience in rows, a polite distance between those who create and those who observe. When I went to La Divina Comedia at the Opera Graz, I expected as much but was pleasantly surprised.

The first half of the ballet didn’t take place on stage at all. Instead, it unfolded in the in-between spaces of the opera house: on the stairs, in the café, in the entry hall. Spaces that are usually transitional suddenly became the stage. There was also a physical closeness to the dancers that was usually not given. Movements that would normally be read as abstract shapes from afar became intensely human up close. Muscle tension, hesitation, effort and their facial expressions as a whole became much more visible. I was able to decide where I wanted to stand, when I wanted to move on and how close I wanted to be.

This relocation outside the traditional performance space created a strange intimacy. It felt slightly intrusive at first, and it visibly took people some time to adjust to these new rules, not sure what was allowed and what wasn’t. But that unsureness quickly turned into engagement. The opera house stopped being just a house and became a living organism (which is funny because the narrative of the piece was that we were inside of Dante’s body).

This shift kinda reframed the whole “going to the opera” experience. Usually, distance creates respect. You sit quietly and observe from afar. Here, respect came from closeness instead. You weren’t separated from the art, instead you shared the same space with it. It felt more human, more real, more personal.

When the second half moved back into the traditional setup (dancers on stage, audience seated) the contrast was striking. It felt like an entirely different play. Structured. Predictable. Nothing expected from me, the visitor, except of keeping quiet. And yet, because of what had happened before, the stage felt different too. More charged. More alive. Almost as if I was still as close to the performers as before.
The ballet itself was deeply captivating and emotionally overwhelming, but it carried an added layer of something.

This experience reinforced something I’ve been circling around for a while now: design is much more than graphics, print, or web layouts. Design is the orchestration of experience which seeps into almost all aspect of our everyday lives. In this production for example, choreography, lighting, costume, music, architecture, and performance were inseparable. None of them worked alone. Each element was designed in relation to the others, contributing to one cohesive emotional experience.

What moved me most was the realization that design can touch you without asking for interpretation first. There was no interface to learn, no instruction manual, no explanation necessary. The experience spoke directly to the body and only later to the mind. That’s something I rarely encounter in my daily design work.

I left the opera house with a quiet certainty: I need to go to more ballet productions. Not as a cultural obligation, but simply because I enjoy it.

Impulse no4: DIY Urbanism – 99% Invisible

Recently I listened to the 99% Invisible episode “The Help-Yourself City,” and it was much more interesting than I expected. The episode explores DIY urbanism: the little illegal-but-kind-of-understandable interventions people make in cities when official systems fail them. Things like residents painting their own crosswalks because the city won’t, placing traffic cones to reserve parking spots, building unofficial benches in their neighborhood, or taping up handmade signs to guide confused pedestrians.

An interesting point that was made was that people reshape their environments not out of rebellion (okay, sometimes out of rebellion) but mostly out of necessity. They see a problem, feel unheard, and then just decide to fix it themselves. And suddenly the city becomes this playground of small, improvised design decisions made by people who would never call themselves designers.

Listening to this made me realize how often design is treated as a top-down discipline. We create systems, UIs, layouts, streets, signs, apps — and expect users to adapt. But this episode flips the table: users constantly adapt our designs by bending them, hacking them, “misusing” them. The city becomes a reminder that “user behavior” isn’t just something to accommodate; it’s something to learn from. These tiny interventions show what people actually need, beyond what official planning claims to provide.

The creative impulse I took from this was that design should invite appropriation instead of resisting it. If people are modifying their surroundings, there’s a gap in the design. And that gap isn’t a failure — it’s a piece of insight.

For my own work I should more often ask myself: How could people misappropriate my work? How could they “co-design” it? How can I create systems that allow for bending, customizing, hacking — or at least acknowledging that this will happen anyway. The city doesn’t fight back when someone zip-ties a DIY sign to a lamppost. It just absorbs it. Maybe more digital products should behave like that, too: more porous, more flexible, more willing to be reshaped.

There’s also something philosophically beautiful about the idea that design doesn’t end when we’re done designing. The world edits it afterwards. And maybe the best designs are the ones that tolerate — or even encourage — these edits.

Impulse no3: Slow Design for Meaningful Interactions

A while ago I saw a youtube video about a survival guide to the brainrot apocalypse (https://youtu.be/6fj-OJ6RcNQ?si=RnQvDCDZ1GuJucp7) and it had an interesting section which talked about replacing doomscrolling with reading about fallacies and scientific articles. That’s how and why I came across and read this particular paper: “Slow Design for Meaningful Interactions“.

It left me thinking about a design philosophy I usually associate with niche craft projects, not mass-produced consumer products. The authors explore how the principles of Slow Design — a movement rooted in slowing down, creating awareness, and fostering more reflective, meaningful engagement — can be applied even to everyday appliances like a juicer. At first, this seems counterintuitive: mass-produced objects are designed to be efficient, convenient, and fast. But the paper argues that slowing down the right parts of an interaction can actually increase product attachment and ultimately lead to more sustainable behavior.

Slow doesn’t mean forcing the user to waste time. Instead, it means enriching the moments that are already meaningful. For a juicer, the meaningful moment isn’t the cleaning or the storing — it’s watching the fruit transform into juice and feeling connected to the process. The study reveals that people enjoy activities that slow them down when they choose them, like preparing coffee on a quiet weekend morning, paying attention to small details, or creating something with their hands. That insight became the backbone for reinterpreting the original Slow Design principles into more actionable ones: reveal, expand, reflect, engage, participate, evolve, and a new one — ritual. These were then used to redesign a juicer in a way that makes the user more involved, more aware of what’s happening inside the device, and more inclined to treat it as a long-term companion rather than something to eventually discard.

This made me rethink the moments in my own design projects where I rush to try to optimize everything. Friction is often treated as something to eliminate, but the paper reframes certain types of friction as opportunities for reflection, connection, or even emotional durability. It made me wonder where I can intentionally slow down an interaction — not to make it harder, but to make it more meaningful. A subtle animation that reveals a system’s inner workings, a gesture that requires a moment of intention, or a small ritual embedded in the interface could shift the user from passive consumption to mindful engagement.

Impulse no2: “How Designers destroyed the world” – Mike Monteiro

Der Vortrag von Mike Monteiro war für mich nichts neues aber hat mich an einen wesentlichen grundsatz erinnert den wir alle mit uns tragen sollten im Design. Während viele Design-Talks sich um neue Tools, Trends oder Best Practices drehen, geht es hier um moralische Verantwortung und darum, dass Designer*innen oft vergessen, welche Wirkung ihre Arbeit in der echten Welt hat.

Monteiro startet seinen Talk direkt recht provokant: “Designer*innen zerstören die Welt nicht, weil sie schlecht designen — sondern weil sie nicht über die Konsequenzen ihres Designs nachdenken.

„You are responsible for what you put into the world.“

Einer der stärksten Punkte im Vortrag war die Aussage, dass Design kein neutraler Akt ist. Jede Entscheidung die getroffen wird — sei es ein Button, ein Algorithmus, ein Interface oder eine komplette Plattform — hat reale Folgen:

  • Sie beeinflusst, wie Menschen handeln.
  • Sie beeinflusst, welche Informationen sichtbar werden.
  • Sie beeinflusst, wer Zugang bekommt — und wer ausgeschlossen wird.

Monteiro zeigt Beispiele von Unternehmen, die durch bewusstes Wegschauen oder blinden Gehorsam Designs entwickelt haben, die massiven Schaden angerichtet haben. Er spricht über Social Media Plattformen, die Hass und Manipulation verstärken. Über Dark Patterns, die Menschen in Abos oder Systeme drängen. Und darüber, dass all diese Systeme nicht zufällig entstanden sind sondern bewusst designed wurden.

Designer*innen haben mehr Macht, als sie glauben. Und zu oft geben sie diese Macht freiwillig ab. Monteiro kritisiert, dass viele Designer*innen „Professionalität“ als Ausrede nutzen. Sätze wie “Ich mach nur was der Kunde will” oder “Ich bin nur Designer, ich entscheide das nicht” sind nur Ausreden die es einem ermöglichen ethische Verantwortung abzugeben. Architekt*innen würden auch keine einsturzgefährdende Gebäude entwerfen nur weil der Kunde es so will.

Ein Gedanke, der wichtig ist sich immer wieder in den Kopf zu rufen ist, dass Design immer politisch ist. Monteiro sagt ganz klar: “Wenn wir etwas bauen, das Millionen an Menschen benutzen, dann gestalten wir Strukturen, Verhalten und Systeme mit.”
Und damit nehmen wir Einfluss auf unsere Gesellschaft.

Einer der wichtigsten Impulse aus dem Talk: “Designer*innen dürfen — und sollen — Nein sagen.”

  • Nicht jeder Auftrag ist moralisch vertretbar.
  • Nicht jeder Kunde hat gute Absichten.
  • Nicht jedes Produkt sollte existieren.

Monteiro ruft dazu auf, sich bewusst zu machen, für welche Art Welt man arbeiten möchte. Und sich bewusst dagegen zu entscheiden, Dinge zu bauen, die Menschen schaden, ausbeuten oder manipulieren. Er sagt auch: “Wir brauchen weniger Designerinnen, die Dienstleister sind — und mehr, die als verantwortliche Expertinnen auftreten.”

Was mir wieder klar geworden ist, ist dass ich viel öfter über die Konsequenzen meiner Arbeit nachdenken sollte. Nicht nur über das Interface, die Experience oder die Conversion Rate, sondern auch darüber welche Verhaltensweisen ich mit meinem Design fördere, welche Menschen ausgeschlossen werden und welche Probleme durch mein Design in der realen Welt entstehen könnten.

Impulse No1: Take-away: WUC Vortrag zu „Political Design“

Der Talk über „Political Design“ beim World Usability Congress war für mich ein sehr spannender, weil er etwas angesprochen hat, das im UX/UI und Design Business immer zu beachten ist und zwar, dass Design nie in einem luftleeren Raum, sondern immer in einem Netz aus Unternehmenskultur, Menschen, Egos und politischen Dynamiken entsteht. Obwohl man immer versucht sich im Studium oder in Projekten auf „best practices“ und Designprinzipien zu konzentrieren, merkt man irgendwann unumgänglich, dass die Realität viel komplexer ist.

Im Vortrag wurde Political Design als ein Prozess beschrieben, in dem UX Professionals nicht nur Interfaces gestalten, sondern auch lernen müssen, mit organisationalen Spannungen umzugehen. Nicht, weil sie wollen, sondern weil sie müssen!! Die Grundidee befasst sich damit, dass Design immer mit Neugier, Spieltrieb und Leidenschaft beginnt. Aber je weiter wir in echten Projekten vorstoßen, desto mehr stoßen wir an Grenzen, die nichts mehr mit Figma oder heuristischen Evaluationen zu tun haben, sondern mit Menschen, Macht und Kommunikation.

Ein Satz, der besonders betont wurde ist:

„No tension. No extension.“

Ohne Reibung und Konflikt keine Weiterentwicklung. Ohne Konflikte keine Innovation. Das klingt im ersten Moment sehr intuitiv und sinnvoll für mich und das ist es im Endeffekt auch. Viele der spannendsten Projekte, wurde erzählt, entstehen genau da, wo unterschiedliche Perspektiven aufeinanderprallen. Marketing will X, Engineering will Y, das Management will alles gleichzeitig und Nutzer*innen wollen etwas ganz anderes. In dieser Spannung entsteht oft der Raum für kreative Lösungen.

Was ich besonders gut fand war, dass der Vortrag klar gemacht hat, dass Political Design nicht bedeutet, sich „politisch”, im Sinne von manipulativ oder strategisch zu verhalten. Vielmehr geht es um Soft Skills wie: klar zu kommunizieren, zuzuhören und das Gefühl zu geben gehört zu werden. Es geht darum zu verstehen wie und warum die Menschen um uns herum ihre Entscheidugnen treffen.

Im Grunde wurde betont, dass UX nicht nur ein sehr technischer, sondern ein zutiefst zwischenmenschlicher Beruf ist. Wir designen nicht nur für Menschen, sondern auch mit Menschen und diese Menschen haben ihre eigenen Prioritäten, Ängste, Ziele und Blind Spots. Ein Design Prozess der das mitbedenkt ist weitaus effektiver und liefert bessere Ergebnisse.

Als Impuls nehme ich für mich mit, dass ich in meiner eigenen Arbeit noch stärker darauf achten möchte WIE ich kommuniziere und woran Ideen wirklich scheitern. Political Design nehme ich für mich weniger als ein Framework, sondern mehr als eine Haltung auf. Eine die neugierig auf Menschen zugeht und sich nicht nur auf das perfekte Interface beschränkt.

My Review of “Designing for Slow Reflection” by Gkounta & Wijayantha (2025)

The master thesis “Designing for Slow Reflection: Using a Physical Artifact to Reflect on Screen Exposure” was written by Dimitra Gkounta and Hasini Wijayantha, from the Master’s Programme in Human Computer Interaction and User Experience at the Umeå University in 2025. It explores how design can encourage people to think more deeply about their screen habits before going to sleep. In the current world, where most echnologies are designed to be fast and efficient, the authors experiment with slow technology; a design approach that promotes patience, reflection, and awareness instead of instant gratification.

Their research question is clear:

How can slow technology design qualities be implemented in an artifact to foster reflection on screen exposure before sleep?

To explore this, they used a Research through Design approach and created a low-fidelity prototype figurine that changed it’s appearance based on participants self reported screen time and sleep quality over the span of three days. The figurine represented the users behaviour visually through torn clothes or dirt (representing poor sleep or excessive screen time) or a neat appearance (representing healthier habits).

Pre-Evaluation

The figurine is well documented in this thesis. The authors describe its material, design choices, and the reasoning behind each visual change, such as torn clothing or posture adjustments. Photos and diagrams show the figurine in different stages of transformation thus painting a clear picture of the development process. It is also explained why the figurine was kept low-fidelity, giving a very well documented impression overall.

Though it is not publicly accessible the detailed explanation of the process would allow an interested party to recreate a similar setup.

The theoretical arguments and the practical implementation align convincingly which can be seen by a clear representation of three slow technology qualities (explicit slowness, ongoingness, and pre-interaction). There is a deliberate delay between data reporting and visual change (explicit slowness), the figurines gradual deterioration (ongoingness), and the morning audio journaling (pre-interaction). Though some participants reacted poorly to the delayed feedback, that just confirmed the expected challenge of introducing slowness into an environment that is accustomed to fast-technology.

Overall the documentation is clear and comprehensible. Each methodological step is described in detail, easy to follow and participant quotes give quick insight into how the figurine was perceived.

In my opinion, the quality of this thesis fully meets the standards expected of a master’s thesis and could be used as a shining example. It demonstrates a strong link between theory and design, creative experimentation, and careful reflection.

Main Evaluation

Overall Presentation Quality
The thesis is professionally presented and well structured. There is a clear line leading from theory to practice and both the term slow technology and the design process of the figurine are explained well. The thesis reads very easily without loosing its scientific tone which was a pleasant surprise.

Degree of Innovation
I think this work is highly original, at least I haven’t seen anything similar before. It combines slow technology with self tracking through data which is very interesting. The delayed feedback approach was very new to me since most technologies focus on near instant feedback and quick responses. The figurine also introduced a certain ambiguity to the data which is a refreshing idea, hopefully leading to more meaningful engagement. Overall the thesis provided a fresh perspective by focussing on designing for reflection rather than efficiency.

Independence
The authors show strong independence and creativity. They designed and created the figurine themselves, developed the study setup, and critically reflected on their own design choices. And though it was not without its challenges (e.g. participant misinterpretation), they adjusted their method accordingly.

Organization and structure
This thesis is organized very logically. Each section builds upon the previous one and has a clear focus. The transitition from theory to practice is clear and the documentation of both design and analysis is easy to follow. Photos of the figurine add to an easily digestable reading experience.

Communication
The writing style is professional yet clear and easy to understand. Concepts like explicit slowness, ongoingness, and pre-interaction are well explained. In my opinion the authors successfully combined technical language with narrative elements such as participant quotes which made the whole thesis engaging to read.

Scope
The scope fits the level of a master thesis. The project focuses on a specific, manageable question and a small user group of six participants. My only critique would be that the study frame was very short (three days) and could’ve been expanded.

Accuracy and Attention to Detail
The study reads very careful and precise. The theoretical foundation seems solid and the design and analysis are documented in such detail, that it makes it easy to understand how the figurines transformations came about.

Literature
This thesis makes great use of literature by connecting classical theories of reflection (Schön, 1987) with more recent studies on slow design and personal informatics. The authors also situate their project in a broader research context by showing how their study fills a gap in applying slow technology in self-tracking before sleep.

Overall Assessment

This thesis was super interesting to read, gave plenty of new perspective, food for thought, and was overall a thoughtful piece of research. It had a strong theoretical foundation, a creative new concept and a more than sufficiently reflective analysis. I think the application of slow technology principles, through a physical figurine into personal informatics is innovative and refreshing and made for an engaging read. A minor weakness is the short duration of the study, which limits insight into long-term behavioral change and could question the validity of the study outcome. Still, this thesis offers some inspiration for designers/researchers who want to rethink the role of slowness and reflection in todays fast paced environment. Slowing down could actually help us see ourselves more clearly.