Cap Watkins, Head of Product Design at Lattice, was catching up with a former top-performing designer who was afraid other designers were mad at her for getting all the “cool” projects.

What made those projects glamorous and desirable was her and how she approached the work. There’s that old nugget about making your own luck and that is something she excelled at. She had a unique ability to take really hard or nebulous problems (both design and team-related) and morph them into something amazing that got people excited. Instead of getting discouraged, she’d respond to friction with more energy, more enthusiasm. In so many ways, she was a transformative presence on any team and project.

In other words, this designer cared and made the best of all her assignments.

In many ways, this excellent article by Kaustubh Saini for Final Round AI’s blog is a cousin to my essay on the design talent crisis. But it’s about what happens when people “become” developers and only know vibe coding.

The appeal is obvious, especially for newcomers facing a brutal job market. Why spend years learning complex programming languages when you can just describe what you want in plain English? The promise sounds amazing: no technical knowledge required, just explain your vision and watch the AI build it.

In other words, these folks don’t understand the code and, well, bad things can happen.

The most documented failure involves an indie developer who built a SaaS product entirely through vibe coding. Initially celebrating on social media that his “saas was built with Cursor, zero hand written code,” the story quickly turned dark.

Within weeks, disaster struck. The developer reported that “random things are happening, maxed out usage on api keys, people bypassing the subscription, creating random shit on db.” Being non-technical, he couldn’t debug the security breaches or understand what was going wrong. The application was eventually shut down permanently after he admitted “Cursor keeps breaking other parts of the code.”

This failure illustrates the core problem with vibe coding: it produces developers who can generate code but can’t understand, debug, or maintain it. When AI-generated code breaks, these developers are helpless.

I don’t foresee something this disastrous with design. I mean, a newbie designer wielding an AI-enabled Canva or Figma can’t tank a business alone because the client will have eyes on it and won’t let through something that doesn’t work. It could be a design atrocity, but it’ll likely be fine.

This *can *happen to a designer using vibe coding tools, however. Full disclosure: I’m one of them. This site is partially vibe-coded. My Severance fan project is entirely vibe-coded.

But back to the idea of a talent crisis. In the developer world, it’s already happening:

The fundamental problem is that vibe coding creates what experts call “pseudo-developers.” These are people who can generate code but can’t understand, debug, or maintain it. When AI-generated code breaks, these developers are helpless.

In other words, they don’t have the skills necessary to be developers because they can’t do the basics. They can’t debug, don’t understand architecture, have no code review skills, and basically have no fundamental knowledge of what it means to be a programmer. “They miss the foundation that allows developers to adapt to new technologies, understand trade-offs, and make architectural decisions.”

Again, assuming our junior designers have the requisite fundamental design skills, not having spent time developing their craft and strategic skills through experience will be detrimental to them and any org that hires them.

I love this from Marc Brooker:

Every organization and industry has watering holes where the whiners hang out. The cynical. The jaded. These spots feel attractive. Everybody has something they can complain about, and complaining is fun. These places are inviting and inclusive: as long as you’re whining, or complaining, or cynical, you’re in. If you’re positive, optimistic, or ambitious, you’re out.

Avoid these places.

I’ve seen this firsthand on Reddit. Seems like the r/graphic_design and r/UXDesign subreddits have been full of posts decrying the state of the job market and attacking AI. Any meaningful conversations about the work or debates about AI are too few and far between.

Brooker again:

My advice: find the yes, and communities, and spend time there. Find the people doing cool stuff you admire, and spend time with them. Find the people doing the work you want to do, or living the life you want to live, and find ways to learn from them.

Those are hard to find online. If you know of any, please let me know!

Tom Scott, giving advice to startups about how to hire designers:

The worst thing for a designer is join a company under the premise they are going to invest in craft and never get serious about it. This results in the designer getting stuck in an average company, making it harder for them to move into a top-tier design-led company afterwards.

The TL;DR is if you’re serious about hiring great talent, put your money where your mouth is, create the right environment and get serious about design like you do with product, eng, marketing etc.

While the post is aimed at startup employers, it’s good for designers to understand the advice they’re being given.

My family and I are going on vacation, and I thought it might be great to share this design summer reading list from Design Better. For me, I’ll be picking up Nonlinear by Kevin Bethune. It looks great.

Sara Paul writing for NN/g:

The core principles of UX and product design remain unchanged, and AI amplifies their importance in many ways. To stay indispensable, designers must evolve: adapt to new workflows, deepen their judgment, and double down on the uniquely human skills that AI can’t replace.

They spoke with seven UX practitioners to get their take on AI and the design profession.

I think this is great advice and echoes what I’ve written about previously (here and here):

There is a growing misconception that AI tools can take over design, engineering, and strategy. However, designers offer more than interaction and visual-design skills. They offer judgment, built on expertise that AI cannot replicate.

Our panelists return to a consistent message: across every tech hype cycle, from responsive design to AI, the value of design hasn’t changed. Good design goes deeper than visuals; it requires critical thinking, empathy, and a deep understanding of user needs.

“Beating AI” is an interesting framing, but OK. There is a lot of concern out there about how AI will affect the entire design industry, from graphic design to UX. Understandably, designers are worried about their careers.

Georgia Coggan writing for Creative Bloq:

“So are we just cooked?” asks a recent Reddit thread from a designer who is four years out of college. “ Any other jobs i can get with such a degree now that design is kind of becoming obsolete?”

Hundreds of responses poured in from designers with strong and diverse opinions on what AI is doing to the graphic design industry – and it isn’t all as doom and gloom as you might fear. Ranging from advice around what humans can do that AI can’t, to how nothing has really changed regarding what the industry needs from its designers, there’s lots for the OP to feel positive about – as long as they’re happy to stay agile. Head over to the Reddit thread to garner more wisdom from those in the field.

Patrick Morgan writing for UX Collective:

The tactical tasks that juniors traditionally cut their teeth on are increasingly being delegated to AI tools. Tasks that once required a human junior designer with specialized training can now be handled by generative AI tools in a fraction of the time and cost to the organization.

This fundamentally changes the entry pathway. When the low-complexity work that helped juniors develop their skills is automated away, we lose the natural onramp that allowed designers to gradually progress from tactical execution to strategic direction.

Remote work has further complicated things by removing informal learning opportunities that happen naturally in an in-person work environment, like shadowing senior designers, being in the room for strategy discussions, or casual mentorship chats.

I’ve been worried about this a lot. I do wonder how the next class of junior designers—and all professionals, for that matter—will learn. (I cited Aneesh Raman, chief economic opportunity officer at LinkedIn, in my previous essay.)

Morgan does have some suggestions:

Instead of waiting for the overall market to become junior-friendly again (which I don’t see happening), focus your search on environments more structurally accepting of new talent:

1. Very early-stage startups: Pre-seed or seed companies often have tight budgets and simply need someone enthusiastic who can execute designs. It will be trial-by-fire, but you’ll gain rapid hands-on experience.

2. Stable, established businesses outside of ‘big tech’: Businesses with predictable revenue streams often provide structured environments for junior designers (my early experience at American Express is a prime example). It might not be as glamorous as a ‘big tech’ job, but as a result they’re less competitive while still offering critical experience to get started.

3. Design agencies: Since their business model focuses on selling design services, agencies naturally employ more designers and can support a mix of experience levels. The rapid exposure to multiple projects makes them solid launchpads even if your long-term goal is to work in-house in tech.

Tabitha Swanson for It’s Nice That:

A few years ago, I realised that within a week, I was using about 25 different design programs, each with their own nuances, shortcuts, and technological learning curves. (That number has continued to grow.) I also began to notice less time to rest in the state of full technological proficiency in a tool before trends and software change again and it became time to learn a new one. I’ve learned so many skills over the years, both to stay current, but also out of genuine curiosity. But the pressure to adapt to new technologies as well as perform on social media, update every platform, my portfolio, website and LinkedIn and keep relations with clients, is spiritually draining. Working as a creative has never felt more tiring. I posted about this exhaustion on Instagram recently and many people got in touch saying they felt the same – do you feel it too?

I get it. There’s always so many new things to learn and keep up with, especially in the age of AI. That’s why I think the strategic skills are more valuable and therefore more durable in the long run.

A lot of chatter in the larger design and development community has been either “AI is the coolest” or “AI is shite and I want nothing to do with it.”

Tobias van Schneider puts it plainly:

AI is here to stay.

Resistance is futile. Doesn’t matter how we feel about it. AI has arrived, and it’s going to transform every industry, period. The ship has sailed, and we’re all along for the ride whether we like it or not. Not using AI in the future is the equivalent to not using the internet. You can get away with it, but it’s not going to be easy for you.

He goes on to argue that craftspeople have been affected the most, not only by AI, but by the proliferation of stock and templates:

The warning signs have been flashing for years. We’ve witnessed the democratization of design through templates, stock assets, and simplified tools that turned specialized knowledge into commodity. Remember when knowing Photoshop guaranteed employment? Those days disappeared years ago. AI isn’t starting this fire, it’s just pouring gasoline on it. The technical specialist without artistic vision is rapidly becoming as relevant as a telephone operator in the age of smartphones. It’s simply not needed anymore.

But he’s not all doom and gloom.

If the client could theoretically do everything themselves with AI, then why hire a designer?

Excellent question. I believe there are three reasons to continue hiring a designer:

1. Clients lag behind. It’ll takes a few years before they fully catch up and stop hiring creatives for certain tasks, at which point creatives have caught up on what makes them worthy (beyond just production output).

2. Clients famously don’t know what they want. That’s the primary reason to hire a designer with a vision. Even with AI at their fingertips, they wouldn’t know what instructions to give because they don’t understand the process.

3. Smart clients focus on their strengths and outsource the rest. If I run a company I could handle my own bookkeeping, but I’ll hire someone. Same with creative services. AI won’t change that fundamental business logic. Just because I can, doesn’t mean I should.

And finally, he echoes the same sentiment that I’ve been saying (not that I’m the originator of this thought—just great minds think alike!):

What differentiates great designers then?

The Final Filter: taste & good judgment

Everyone in design circles loves to pontificate about taste, but it’s always the people with portfolios that look like a Vegas casino who have the most to say. Taste is the emperor’s new clothes of the creative industry, claimed by all, possessed by few, recognized only by those who already have it.

In other words, as designers, we need to lean into our curation skills.

Elizabeth Goodspeed, writing for It’s Nice That:

The cynicism our current moment inspires appears to be, regrettably, universal. For millennials, who watched the better-world-by-design ship go down in real time, it’s hard-earned. We saw the idealist fantasy of creative autonomy, social impact, and purpose-driven work slowly unravel over the past decade, and are now left holding the bag. Gen Z designers have the same pessimism, but arrived at it from a different angle. They’re entering the field already skeptical, shaped by a job market in freefall and constant warnings of their own obsolescence. But the result is the same: an industry full of people who care deeply, but feel let down.

Sounds very similar to what Gen X-ers are facing in their careers too. I think it’s universal for nearly all creative careers today.

Sarah Gibbons and Evan Sunwall from NN/g:

The rise of AI tools doesn’t mean becoming a “unicorn” who can do everything perfectly. Specialization will remain valuable in our field: there will still be dedicated researchers, content strategists, and designers.

However, AI is broadening the scope of what any individual can accomplish, regardless of their specific expertise.

What we’re seeing isn’t the elimination of specialization but rather an increased value placed on expanding the top of a professional’s “expertise T.”

This reinforces what I talked about in a previous essay, “T-shaped skills [will become] increasingly valuable—depth in one area with breadth across others.”

They go on to say:

We believe these broad skills will coalesce into experience designer and architect roles: people who direct AI-supported design tasks to craft experiences for humans and AI agents alike, while ensuring that the resulting work reflects well-researched, strategic thinking.

In other words, curation of the work that AI does.

They also make the point that designers need to be strategic, i.e., focus on the why:

This evolution means that the unique value we bring as UX professionals is shifting decidedly toward strategic thinking and leadership. While AI can execute tasks, it cannot independently understand the complex human and organizational contexts in which our work exists.

Finally, Gibbons and Sunwall end with some solid advice:

To adapt to this shift toward generalist skills, UX professionals should focus on 4 key areas: • Developing a learning mindset • Becoming fluent in AI collaboration • Focusing on transferable skills • Expanding into adjacent fields

I appreciate the learning mindset bit, since that’s how I’m wired. I also believe that collaborating with AI is the way to go, rather than seeing it as a replacement or a threat.

Steven Kurtz, writing for The New York Times:

For many of the Gen X-ers who embarked on creative careers in the years after [Douglas Coupland’s Generation X] was published, lessness has come to define their professional lives.

If you entered media or image-making in the ’90s — magazine publishing, newspaper journalism, photography, graphic design, advertising, music, film, TV — there’s a good chance that you are now doing something else for work. That’s because those industries have shrunk or transformed themselves radically, shutting out those whose skills were once in high demand.

My first assumption was that Kurtz was writing about AI and how it’s taking away all the creative jobs. Instead, he weaves together a multifactorial illustration about the diminishing value of commercial creative endeavors like photography, music, filmmaking, copywriting, and design.

“My peers, friends and I continue to navigate the unforeseen obsolescence of the career paths we chose in our early 20s,” Mr. Wilcha said. “The skills you cultivated, the craft you honed — it’s just gone. It’s startling.”

Every generation has its burdens. The particular plight of Gen X is to have grown up in one world only to hit middle age in a strange new land. It’s as if they were making candlesticks when electricity came in. The market value of their skills plummeted.

It’s more than AI, although certainly, that is top of everyone’s mind these days. Instead, it’s also stock photography and illustrations, graphic templates, the consolidation of ad agencies, the revolutionary rise of social media, and the tragic fall of traditional media.

Similar shifts have taken place in music, television and film. Software like Pro Tools has reduced the need for audio engineers and dedicated recording studios; A.I., some fear, may soon take the place of actual musicians. Streaming platforms typically order fewer episodes per season than the networks did in the heyday of “Friends” and “ER.” Big studios have slashed budgets, making life for production crews more financially precarious.

Earlier this year, I cited Baldur Bjarnason’s essay about the changing economics of web development. As an opening analogy, he referenced the shifting landscape of film and television.

Born in 1973, I am squarely in Generation X. I started my career in the design and marketing industry just as the internet was taking off. So I know exactly what the interviewees of Kurtz’s article are facing. But by dogged tenacity and sheer luck, I’ve been able to pivot and survive. Am I still a graphic designer like I was back in the mid-1990s? Nope. I’m more of a product designer now, which didn’t exist 30 years ago, and which is a subtle but distinct shift from UX designer, which has existed for about 20 years.

I’ve been lucky enough to ride the wave with the times, always remembering my core purpose.