Re-reading Gerard Unger's "While You Were Reading," I was struck by a passage on page 39. Mr. Unger is discussing typographic trends and reactions and specifically David Carson's rejections of existing rules and theories. The reader is then presented with a quote by Kurt Schwitters (from the 1924 magazine Merz, Issue 11) and the author’s thoughts on the matter.

"Never do things the way someone else did them before you. You could also say: always do things differently from the way others do them." For practical purposes you could hardly have a more dogmatic rejection of all dogma.

While design advice (especially, advice that uses the word “always”) is often dull and rarely useful, I paused in my reading to agree with Mr. Unger's assessment and think about my design process. It was an attempt to define what it is I’d like to say I ‘always’ do. Additionally, it's a reflection of how my work responds to the work that already exists within its environments: physical, philosophical, and historical. So when I hard-boiled these thoughts down, I settled on the following aspiration:

Always try the opposite; always try the absence.

Often, when I find myself stuck on a design solution, whether visual or conceptual, I like to pause and try to clearly define what I'm trying to do and then try to envision its absolute opposite. When I was in high school, I was lucky enough to be a student with a remarkable Physics teacher. As a part of every experiment report, we had to suggest at least three different ways that we would re-run the experiment with complete disregard for financial, physical, or practical limitations. I'll never forget being in a classroom and hearing the phrase, "Yes...but what if you were on the moon?" It's a fantastic question, almost regardless of the subject matter. "Do you like your coffee?" "Yes...but what if you were on the moon?" I must confess that I would probably not enjoy this cup of coffee very much. It would likely be cold and hard to contain in a cup. I would be missing that lovely feeling of holding a warm cup of coffee in my hands, and casually sipping it as I re-read what I’ve been writing. So, do you enjoy your coffee? "Yes...because I am not drinking it on the moon."  

Entertain the opposite. Don't rigidly pursue it, but consider it. Even if it yields no tangible results, it will increase your understanding of what you are doing and why the opposite of it doesn’t quite work. Often times, when working on pieces, I find it helpful to literally flip work upside-down to take a look at it. I will always be amazed at how much clearer spacing seems, when I am not constantly reading the content of the work.

Always try the absence. If you are really struggling with an additional piece of content on that 3-panel brochure, or trying to include that clever idea into a logo, stop to consider if its actually serving a purpose. We are designers; we are not strangers to the idea that ‘less is more’. You should constantly be evaluating whether or not what you are including is adding value or distracting from the goal. I like to apply this idea in situations both micro and macro and I have made a seemingly contradictory observation. If you talk clients out of projects, you will not lose work. In my humble experience, clients appreciate the integrity to the work that you are doing. Plus, it is deeply unsatisfying to be working on a project and know the entire time that it won’t actually go anywhere. Walk away or at least consider it.

At the crux of all this is the concept that thought experiments are cheap. Run them frequently. Work improves through a constant flux of experimentation and evaluation. It’s a tough world out there, and we are building upon a remarkable amount of access and awareness of existing design work. It’s tempting yet dangerous to settle into a perspective, even one of profound originality. Let your work be what dictates your work and always be wary of mantras.