Definitely use AI at work if you can. You’d be guilty of professional negligence if you don’t. But, you must not blindly take output from ChatGPT, Claude, or Gemini and use it as-is. You have to check it, verify that it’s free from hallucinations, and applicable to the task at hand. Otherwise, you’ll generate “workslop.”

Kate Niederhoffer, Gabriella Rosen Kellerman, et. al., in Harvard Business Review, report on a study by Stanford Social Media Lab and BetterUp Labs. They write, “Employees are using AI tools to create low-effort, passable looking work that ends up creating more work for their coworkers.”

Here’s how this happens. As AI tools become more accessible, workers are increasingly able to quickly produce polished output: well-formatted slides, long, structured reports, seemingly articulate summaries of academic papers by non-experts, and usable code. But while some employees are using this ability to polish good work, others use it to create content that is actually unhelpful, incomplete, or missing crucial context about the project at hand. The insidious effect of workslop is that it shifts the burden of the work downstream, requiring the receiver to interpret, correct, or redo the work. In other words, it transfers the effort from creator to receiver.

Don’t be like this. Use it to do better work, not to turn in mediocre work.

Workslop may feel effortless to create but exacts a toll on the organization. What a sender perceives as a loophole becomes a hole the recipient needs to dig out of. Leaders will do best to model thoughtful AI use that has purpose and intention. Set clear guardrails for your teams around norms and acceptable use. Frame AI as a collaborative tool, not a shortcut. Embody a pilot mindset, with high agency and optimism, using AI to accelerate specific outcomes with specific usage. And uphold the same standards of excellence for work done by bionic human-AI duos as by humans alone.

The web is a magical place. It started out as a way to link documents like research papers across the internet, but has evolved into the representation of the internet and the place where we get information and get things done. Writer Will Leitch on Medium:

It is difficult to describe, to a younger person or, really, anyone who wasn’t there, what the emergence of the Internet — this thing that had not been there your entire life, that you had no idea existed, that was suddenly just everywhere — meant to someone who wanted to write. When I graduated college in 1997, the expectation for me, and most wanna-be writers, was that we had two options: Start on the bottom rung of a print publication and toil away for years, hoping that enough people with jobs above you would retire or die in time for you to get a real byline by the time you were 40, or write a brilliant novel or memoir that turned you into Dave Eggers or Elizabeth Wurtzel. That was pretty much it! Then, suddenly, from the sky, there was this place where you could:

• Write whatever you wanted.
• Write as long as you wanted.
• Have your work available to read by anyone, anywhere on the entire freaking planet.

This was — and still is — magical.

The core argument of what Leitch write is that while the business and traffic models that fueled web publishing are collapsing—due to changing priorities of platforms like Google and the dominance of video on social media (i.e., TikTok and Reels), the essential, original magic of publishing on the web isn’t dead.

But that does not mean that Web publishing — that writing on the Internet, the pure pleasure of putting something out in the world and having it be yours, of discovering other people who are doing the same thing — itself is somehow dead, or any less magical than it was in the first place. Because it is magical. It still is. It always was.

Noah Davis writing in Web Designer Depot, says aloud what I’d thought—but never wrote down—before AI, templates started to kill creativity in web design.

If you’re wondering why the web feels dead, lifeless, or like you’re stuck in a scrolling Groundhog Day of “hero image, tagline, three icons, CTA,” it’s not because AI hallucinated its way into the design department.

It’s because we templatified creativity into submission!

We used to design websites like we were crafting digital homes—custom woodwork, strange hallways, surprise color choices, even weird sound effects if you dared. Each one had quirks. A personality. A soul.

When I was coming up as a designer in the late 1990s and early 2000s, one of my favorite projects was designing Pixar.com. The animation studio’s soul—and by extension the soul I’d imbue into the website—was story. The way this manifest was a linear approach to the site, similar to a slideshow, to tell the story of each of their films.

And as the web design industry grew, and everyone needed and wanted a website, from Fortune 500s to the local barber shop, access to well-designed websites was made possible via templates.

Let’s be real: clients aren’t asking for design anymore. They’re asking for “a site like this.” You know the one. It looks clean. It has animations. It scrolls smoothly. It’s “modern.” Which, in 2025, is just a euphemism for “I want what everyone else has so I don’t have to think.”

Templates didn’t just streamline web development. They rewired what people expect a website to be.

Why hire a designer when you can drop your brand colors into a no-code template, plug in some Lottie files, and call it a day? The end result isn’t bad. It’s worse than bad. It’s forgettable.

Davis ends his rant with a call to action: “If you want design to live, stop feeding the template machine. Build weird stuff. Ugly stuff. Confusing stuff. Human stuff.”

Designer Ben Holliday writes a wonderful deep dive into how caring is good design. In it, he references the conversation that Jony Ive had with Patrick Collison a few months ago. (It’s worth watching in its entirety if you haven’t already.)

Watching the interview back, I was struck by how he spoke about applying care to design, describing how:

“…everyone has the ability to sense the care in designed things because we can all recognise carelessness.”

Talking about the history of industrial design at Apple, Ive speaks about the care that went into the design of every product. That included the care that went into packaging – specifically things that might seem as inconsequential as how a cable was wrapped and then unpackaged. In reality, the type of small interactions that millions of people experienced when unboxing the latest iPhone. These are details that people wouldn’t see as such, but Ive and team believed that they would sense care when they had been carefully considered and designed.

This approach has always been a part of Jony Ive’s design philosophy, or the principles applied by his creative teams at Apple. I looked back and found an earlier 2015 interview and notes I’d made where he says how he believes that the majority of our manufactured environment is characterised by carelessness. But then, how, at Apple, they wanted people to sense care in their products.

The attention to detail and the focus and attention we can all bring to design is care. It’s important.

Holliday’s career has been focused in government, public sector, and non-profit environments. In other words, he thinks a lot about how design can impact people’s lives at massive scale.

In the past few months, I’ve been drawn to the word ‘careless’ when thinking about the challenges faced by our public services and society. This is especially the case with the framing around the impact of technology in our lives, and increasingly the big bets being made around AI to drive efficiency and productivity.

The word careless can be defined as the failure to give sufficient attention to avoiding harm or errors. Put simply, carelessness can be described as ‘negligence’.

Later, he cites Facebook/Meta’s carelessness when they “used data to target young people when at their most vulnerable,” specifically, body confidence.

Designer Davide Mascioli created a book and online archive of over 450 space exploration-related logos from around the world.

It’s a wonderful archive—pretty exhaustive—and includes a smattering of logos from science fiction (though less exhaustive there, since there are so many sci-fi properties).

Here are some of my favorites (graphically)…

I will admit that I’d not heard of this website until I came across this article. Playing around with Perfectly Imperfect myself, I find it to be the strange web Brutalist manifestation of MySpace for the Gen Z generation.

Sudi Jama, writing for It’s Nice That:

Talking about the design for Perfectly Imperfect’s social site pi.fyi, on the other hand, Tyler says: “The design calls back to an era where algorithms didn’t dominate your day-to-day experience on the internet.” Tyler rejects the homogenisation of web design and decided to swerve Perfectly Imperfect into a lane of its own, inspired by the early internet aesthetics of “solid but saturated colours, lack of texture, MS Paint-style airbrushing, and a singular broadcast-style aesthetic”, Brent David Freaney tells us. Brent’s studio Special Offer collaborated with Tyler to bring the best parts of early internet’s visuality, whilst still creating something that belongs in 2025. Some fun facts: Pi.fyi’s colour system was modelled from 1990s McDonald’s brand and style guidelines, and the spray paint logo was inspired by an old Teenage Fanclub band t-shirt Tyler got on eBay.

The platform thrives in the chaos, all born from its visible human touch. “A lot of the core pages that users spend time on (the home page, profiles, etc) are designed to look more like a magazine than a social site.” The visuals are deliberately flat, featuring few animations, in order to let the design cut through. The mixture of a home page presented as acting front page, with editorial content, user posts, profiles adorned in large image paired with bold bordered text, and written content pouring from the right side of the screen. Tyler says: “It’s this approach that’s led us to calling Perfectly Imperfect a ‘social magazine’.” Tyler is inspired by the likes of Index Mag, MySpace, and i-D, among others – all boundary-pushing platforms which hold a cultural authority.

Writing for UX Collective, Filipe Nzongo argues that designers should embrace behavior as a fundamental design material—not just to drive metrics or addiction, but to intentionally create products that empower people and foster meaningful, lasting change in their lives.

Behavior should be treated as a design material, just as technology once became our material. If we use behavior thoughtfully, we can create better products. More than that, I believe there is a broader and more meaningful opportunity before us: to design for behavior. Not to make people addicted to products, but to help them grow as human beings, better parents, citizens, students, and professionals. Because if behavior is our medium, then design is our tool for empowerment.

A former colleague of mine, designer Evan Sornstein wrote a wonderful piece on LinkedIn applying Buddhist principles to design.

Buddhism begins with the recognition that life is marked by impermanence, suffering, and non-self. These aren’t abstract doctrines — they are observations about how the world actually works. Over centuries, these ideas contributed to Japanese aesthetics: wabi-sabi (imperfection), ma (meaningful emptiness), yo no bi (beauty in usefulness), the humility of the shokunin, and the care of omotenashi. What emerges is not a set of rules, but an extraordinary perspective: beauty is inseparable from impermanence; usefulness is inseparable from dignity; care is inseparable from design. In an age when our digital products too often prioritize stickiness and metrics over humanity, these ideas offer a different path. They remind us that design is not about control or cleverness — it’s about connection, trust, and care.

The following eight principles aren’t new “methods” or “laws,” but reflections of this lineage, reframed for product design — though they apply to nearly any creative practice. They are invitations to design with the same attention, humility, and compassion that Buddhism and Japanese aesthetics have carried for centuries.

I think these guidelines from Vercel are great. It’s a one-pager and very clearly written for both humans and AI. It reminds me of the old school MailChimp brand voice guidelines and Apple’s Human Interface Guidelines which have become reference standards.

For as long as I can remember, I’d always loved magazines. Print magazines aren’t as trendy these days, but back in the day, I probably had at least a dozen magazine subscriptions. My favorites—naturally—were always the ones with great editorial design, art direction, and photography. Classics like Wired, Interview, Harper’s Bazaar, and Rolling Stone. And, of course, Colors.

The New York Times Magazine lists the top 25 magazine covers of all time. Their list includes classics like George Lois’s cover for Esquire posing Muhammad Ali as Saint Sebastian, the black on black post-9/11 cover for The New Yorker by Art Spiegelman and Françoise Mouly, and Annie Leibovitz’s photo of a clothed Yoko Ono and nude John Lennon for Rolling Stone.

There’s a famous quote that Henry Ford allegedly said:

If I had asked people what they wanted, they would have said faster horses.

Anton Sten argues that a lot of people use this quote to justify not doing any user (or market) research:

This quote gets thrown around constantly—usually by someone who wants to justify ignoring user research entirely. The logic goes: users don’t know what they want, so why bother asking them?

I think he’s right. The question to ask users isn’t “What should we build?” but “What are your biggest pain points?”

Good research uncovers problems. It reveals pain points. It helps you understand what people are actually struggling with in their daily lives. What they’re working around. What they’ve given up on entirely.

Users aren’t supposed to design your product. That’s your job. But they’re the only ones who can tell you what’s actually broken in their world.

When you focus on understanding problems instead of collecting feature requests, you stop getting “faster horses” and start hearing real needs.

Nielsen Norman Group weighs in on iOS 26 Liquid Glass. Predictably, they don’t like it. Raluca Budiu:

With iOS 26, Apple seems to be leaning harder into visual design and decorative UI effects — but at what cost to usability? At first glance, the system looks fluid and modern. But try to use it, and soon those shimmering surfaces and animated controls start to get in the way.

I get it. Flat—or mostly flat—and static UI conforms to the heuristics. But honestly, it can get boring and homogenous quickly. Put the NNg microscope on any video game UI and it’ll be torn to shreds, despite gamers learning to adapt quickly.

I’ve had iOS 26 on my phone for just a couple of weeks. I continue to be delighted by the animations and effects. So far, nothing has hindered the usability for me. We’ll see what happens as more and more apps get translated.

Ian Dean, writing for Creative Bloq, revisits the impact the original TRON movie had on visual effects and the design industry. The film was not nominated for an Oscar for visual effects as the Academy’s members claimed that “using computers was ‘cheating.’” Little did they know it was only the beginning of a revolution.

More than four decades later, TRON still feels like a moment the film industry stopped and changed direction, just as it had done years earlier when Oz was colourised and Mary Poppins danced with animated animals.

Dean asks, now what about AI-powered visual effects? Runway and Sora are only the beginning.

It’s always interesting to hear how others think about the design process from the outside. Eli Woolery and Aaron Walter interview creativity researcher and author Keith Sawyer to learn about what he’s found to be true after interviewing hundreds of art and design professors and students over a decade for his new book:

The creativity doesn’t come at the beginning. You don’t start by having a brilliant insight. You just dive into the process. And then as you’re engaging in the process, the ideas emerge.

Sawyer emphasizes that art and design schools are not just teaching students how to create, but how to “see.” He found that many professors believe students already possess creativity, but the role of art and design school is to help them realize and develop that potential by teaching them to observe, critique, and reflect more deeply on their own work.

When I interviewed these artists and designers, I would say, how are you teaching students how to create? And everyone was quite uncomfortable with that question. A lot of them would say, we’re not teaching students how to create. Or they’ll say something like, the students are already creative. We’re teaching them how to realize the potential they have as creatives.

Sawyer notes that the hardest thing for students to learn is how to see their own work—that is, to understand what they have actually made rather than sticking rigidly to their original idea.

When we talk about learning to see, you’re talking about learning to see yourself. The hardest thing to teach a student is how to see their own work, to see something that they’ve just generated. Because these studio classes, students have opportunities to share their work in interim stages along the way. You don’t go off and work for two weeks or four weeks and then bring back in the finished product. You bring in your interim and you get a lot of feedback and comments on it.

And what the professors tell me is these 18, 19, and 20-year-olds, they don’t realize what they put on the canvas. Or if they’re a graphic designer, they don’t realize what it is that they’ve generated. A lot of times, they’ll think they’ve done a certain thing. So they have this kind of linear approach—model of the creative process where I’m going to have an idea and I’m going to execute it so they’ll start with their idea and they’ll execute it. They’ll think that what they put on the canvas is their original idea, but in a lot of cases, it’s not. They can’t see what they’ve done themselves, so that’s kind of powerful how do you teach someone that what you put on the canvas isn’t what you say you’re doing.

You can’t just tell them, “Hey, you’re wrong. Let me tell you what you’ve done.” You have to lead someone through that. You have to walk them through it.

One way you do it is you put students in the classroom together and then have them comment on other students’ work so they will be on the other side. And they’ll see another student. talking about what they’ve done and not really describing what’s really on the canvas.

So I think that’s the hardest thing about learning to see is learning to see yourself, learning to see your own work.

I think that’s the power of art and design school, this studio learning environment. I’m biased, of course, because that’s how I learned. Those who are self-taught or have gone through bootcamps miss out on a lot of this experience. The other thing the design school environment teaches is how to give and take critiques. It’s about the work, not you.

In the scenario “AI 2027,” the authors argue that by October 2027—exactly two years from now—we will be at an inflection point. Race to build the superintelligence, or slow down the pace to fix misalignment issues first.

In a piece by Derek Thompson in The Argument, he takes a different predicted AI doomsday date—18 months—and argues:

The problem of the next 18 months isn’t AI disemploying all workers, or students losing competition after competition to nonhuman agents. The problem is whether we will degrade our own capabilities in the presence of new machines. We are so fixated on how technology will outskill us that we miss the many ways that we can deskill ourselves.

Degrading our own capabilities includes writing:

The demise of writing matters because writing is not a second thing that happens after thinking. The act of writing is an act of thinking. This is as true for professionals as it is for students. In “Writing is thinking,” an editorial in Nature, the authors argued that “outsourcing the entire writing process to LLMs” deprives scientists of the important work of understanding what they’ve discovered and why it matters.

…

The decline of writing and reading matters because writing and reading are the twin pillars of deep thinking, according to Cal Newport, a computer science professor and the author of several bestselling books, including Deep Work. The modern economy prizes the sort of symbolic logic and systems thinking for which deep reading and writing are the best practice.

More depressing trends to add to the list.

Our profession is changing rapidly. I’ve been covering that here for nearly a year now. Lots of posts come across my desk that say similar things. Tom Scott repeats a lot of what’s been said, but I’ll pull out a couple nuggets that caught my eye.

He declares that “Hands-on is the new default.” Quoting Vitor Amaral, a designer at Intercom:

Being craft-focused means staying hands-on, regardless of specialty or seniority. This won’t be a niche role, it will be an expectation for everyone, from individual contributors to VPs. The value lies in deeply understanding how things actually work, and that comes from direct involvement in the work.

As AI speeds up execution, the craft itself will become easier, but what will matter most is the critical judgment to craft the right thing, move fast, and push the boundaries of quality.

For those looking for work, Scott says, “You NEED to change how you find a job.” Quoting Felix Haas, investor and designer at Lovable:

Start building a real product and get a feeling for it what it means pushing something out in the market

Learn to use AI to prototype interactively → even at a basic level

Get comfortable with AI tools early → they’ll be your co-designer / sparring partner

Focus on solving real problems, not just making things look good (Which was a problem for very long in the design space)

Scott also says that “Design roles are merging,” and Ridd from Dive Club illustrates the point:

We are seeing a collapse of design’s monopoly on ideation where designers no longer “own” the early idea stage. PMs, engineers, and others are now prototyping directly with new tools.

If designers move too slow, others will fill the gap. The line between PM, engineer, and designer is thinner than ever. Anyone tool-savvy can spin up prototypes — which raises the bar for designers.

Impact comes from working prototypes, not just facilitation. Leading brainstorms or “owning process” isn’t enough. Real influence comes from putting tangible prototypes in front of the team and aligning everyone around them.

Design is still best positioned — but not guaranteed

Designers could lead this shift, but only if they step up. Ownership of ideation is earned, not assumed.

Is the AI bubble about to burst? Apparently, AI prompt-to-code tools like Lovable and v0 have peaked and are on their way down.

Alistair Barr writing for Business Insider:

The drop-off raises tough questions for startups that flaunted exponential annual recurring revenue growth just months ago. Analysts wrote that much of that revenue comes from month-to-month subscribers who may churn as quickly as they signed up, putting the durability of those flashy numbers in doubt.

Barr interviewed Eric Simons, CEO of Bolt who said:

“This is the problem across all these companies right now. The churn rate for everyone is really high,” Simons said. “You have to build a retentive business.”

If you’ve ever wondered why every version of Hokusai’s “The Great Wave off Kanagawa” feels just a little bit different, this video from the British Museum is a gem. It dives into the subtle variations across 111 known prints and shows how art, time, and technique all leave their mark.

Capucine Korenberg from the British Museum spent over 50 hours just staring at different versions of the print, joking “This is about the same amount of time you would spend brushing your teeth over two years. So, next time you brush your teeth just think of me looking at The Great Wave.”

I love this framing by Patrizia Bertini:

Let me offer a different provocation: AI is not coming for your job. It is coming for your tasks. And if you cannot distinguish between the two, then yes — you should be worried. Going further, she distinguishes between output and outcome: Output is what a process produces. Code. Copy. Designs. Legal briefs. Medical recommendations. Outputs are the tangible results of a system executing its programmed or prescribed function — the direct product of following steps, rules, or algorithms. The term emerged in the industrial era, literally describing the quantity of coal or iron a mine could extract in a given period. Output depends entirely on the efficiency and capability of the process that generates it.

Outcome is what happens when that output meets reality. An outcome requires context, interpretation, application, and crucially — intentionality. Outcomes demand understanding not just what was produced, but why it matters, who it affects, and what consequences ripple from it. Where outputs measure productivity, outcomes measure impact. They are the ultimate change or consequence that results from applying an output with purpose and judgment.

She argues that, “AI can generate outputs. It cannot, however, create outcomes.”

This reminds me of a recent thread by engineer Marc Love:

It’s insane just how much how I work has changed in the last 18 months.

I almost never hand write code anymore except when giving examples during planning conversations with LLMs.

I build multiple full features per day , each of which would’ve taken me a week or more to hand write. Building full drafts and discarding them is basically free.

Well over half of my day is spent ideating, doing systems design, and deciding what and what not to build.

It’s still conceptually the same job, but if i list out the specific things i do in a day versus 18 months ago, it’s almost completely different.

Care about the outcome, not the output.

In an announcement to users this morning, Visual Electric said they were being acquired by Perplexity—or more accurately, the team that makes Visual Electric will be hired by Perplexity. The service will shut down in the next 90 days.

Today we’re sharing the next step in Visual Electric’s journey: we’ve been acquired by Perplexity. This is a milestone that marks both an exciting opportunity for our team and some big changes for our product.

Over the next 90 days we’ll be sunsetting Visual Electric, and our team will be forming a new Agent Experiences group at Perplexity.

While we’ve seen acquihires and shutdowns in either the AI infrastructure space (e.g., Scale AI) or coding space (e.g., Windsurf), I don’t believe we’ve seen one in the image or video gen AI space have an exit event like this yet. Obviously, The Browser Company announced their acquisition by Atlassian last month.

I believe building gen AI tools at this moment is incredibly competitive. I think it takes an even stronger stomached entrepreneur than in the pre-ChatGPT moment. So kudos for the folks at Visual Electric for having a good outcome and getting to continue to do their work at Perplexity. But I do think this is not the last that we’ll see consolidation in this space.

Tim Berners-Lee, the father of the web who gave away the technology for free, says that we are at an inflection point with data privacy and AI. But before he makes that point, he reminds us that we are the product:

Today, I look at my invention and I am forced to ask: is the web still free today? No, not all of it. We see a handful of large platforms harvesting users’ private data to share with commercial brokers or even repressive governments. We see ubiquitous algorithms that are addictive by design and damaging to our teenagers’ mental health. Trading personal data for use certainly does not fit with my vision for a free web.

On many platforms, we are no longer the customers, but instead have become the product. Our data, even if anonymised, is sold on to actors we never intended it to reach, who can then target us with content and advertising. This includes deliberately harmful content that leads to real-world violence, spreads misinformation, wreaks havoc on our psychological wellbeing and seeks to undermine social cohesion.

And about that fork in the road with AI:

In 2017, I wrote a thought experiment about an AI that works for you. I called it Charlie. Charlie works for you like your doctor or your lawyer, bound by law, regulation and codes of conduct. Why can’t the same frameworks be adopted for AI? We have learned from social media that power rests with the monopolies who control and harvest personal data. We can’t let the same thing happen with AI.

In my most recent post, I called out our design profession, for our part in developing these addictive products. Jeffrey Inscho, brings it back up to the tech industry at large and observes they’re actually publishers:

The executives at these companies will tell you they’re neutral platforms, that they don’t choose what content gets seen. This is a lie. Every algorithmic recommendation is an editorial decision. When YouTube’s algorithm suggests increasingly extreme political content to keep someone watching, that’s editorial. When Facebook’s algorithm amplifies posts that generate angry reactions, that’s editorial. When Twitter’s trending algorithms surface conspiracy theories, that’s editorial.

They are publishers. They have always been publishers. They just don’t want the responsibility that comes with being publishers.

His point is that if these social media platforms are sorting and promoting posts, it’s an editorial approach and they should be treated like newspapers. “It’s like a newspaper publisher claiming they’re not responsible for what appears on their front page because they didn’t write the articles themselves.”

The answer, Inscho argues, is regulation of the algorithms.

When I read this, I thought to myself, “Geez, this is what a designer does.” I think there is a lot of overlap between what we do as product designers and what product managers do. One critical one—in my opinion, and why we’re calling ourselves product designers—is product sense. Product sense is the skill of finding real user needs and creating solutions that have impact.

So I think people can read this with two lenses:

• If you’re a designer who executes the assignments you’re given, jumping into Figma right away, read this to be more well-rounded and understand the why of what you’re making.
• If you’re a designer who spends 80% of your time questioning everything and defining the problem, and only 20% of your time in Figma, read this to see how much overlap you actually have with a PM.

BTW, if you’re in the first bucket, I highly encourage you to gain the skills necessary to migrate to the second bucket.

While designers often stay on top of visual design trends or the latest best practices from NNG, Jules Walter suggests an even wider aperture. Writing in Lenny’s Newsletter:

Another practice for developing creativity is to spend time learning about emerging trends in technology, society, and regulations. Changes in the industry create opportunities for launching new products that can address user needs in new ways. As a PM, you want to understand what’s possible in your domain in order to come up with creative solutions.