Class & Design

Like it or not, design has class. And no, I don’t mean it’s classy as in elegant or fashionable, although design is a very trendy business world accessory. And I don’t mean design has class as in groups that share common attributes. I mean design has class as in an artificial social hierarchy — much of it self inflicted.

This more subtle definition of class creates a division where one group is perceived as “better” or “higher” or “more refined” than the other. This trend is nothing new. Art, architecture, literature, culture, music, etc. all have created similar class systems. And we as designers are somewhat guilty for creating artificial divisions in design. Let me explain.

I recently listened to a talk given by Malcom Gladwell, well known author of the Tipping Point and Blink. He tells the story of how in the early ’70’s Grey Poupon Dijon mustard broke into a field dominated by two plain yellow mustards. How? First, they created a different type of mustard that was spicy and brown. Then through design and advertising they created an artificial mustard social class, where plain yellow mustards should be perceived as “common” and Grey Poupon as “upper class” mustard. Grey Poupon became a mustard to aspire to, not merely consume. Soon, many in advertising and design were following their lead, creating products and services that were based on aspiration and social hierarchy where there had been none before. Think computers: Mac (creative class) vs PC (corporate working class). Think cars: Ford (working class) vs BMW (upper crust).

There used to be only two manufacturers of spaghetti sauce on the national scene: Ragu and Prego. Ragu dominated the market. Their sauces were based on what was considered at the time to be the perfect, authentic Italian pasta sauce: thin and watery with one basic flavor. Spaghetti sauce makers aspired to a single perfect sauce in the mold of Grey Poupon. Ragu hired a fellow to help them revive their struggling product in the face of the dominant Ragu sauce. What he discovered was that there is no perfect sauce to aspire to. There are perfect sauces. In other words, there is no class system (social or aspirational) in spaghetti sauce. There are many classes (i.e. different kinds) of spaghetti sauce that would appeal to many different folks. Interestingly, he found that one third Americans actually like chunky sauce versus the authentic Italian thin, watery sauce. Prego created a chunky sauce plus 20 other variations and began to dominate the sauce market. So, what does this have to do with design again?

Think back to the last time you presented several design concepts to a client. And of course there was one concept you thought was the perfect solution. We’ll call it the Poupon concept. The others were not as “good” for whatever reason. And of course, the client chose one of the “weaker” concepts. Or maybe you just presented a single, Pouponesque concept and the client rejected it. We all know how that feels. You argue your point and still the client wants some “lower class” concept. Maybe they even pull out something that their friend did for them as an example. You hold your head (and nose) high and try not to look too offended by the assumption that this concept could be in the same design “class” as yours.

Like it or not, we’re creating an unnecessary class system in design. One design is not in a higher social class than another any more than Dijion is in a higher social status than yellow mustard. They are just designs with different strengths and weaknesses. The sooner we recognize that design should be devoid of social hierarchy, the more creative both designer and the designed will become.

3 Responses to “Class & Design”

  1. Katharhino

    I hear what you’re saying, because I think it’s very easy for designers to get snobby about what we do. And snobbiness leads to defensiveness and unwillingness to let anyone else participate because they might “steal” work from us. Or maybe it’s the other way around. Anyway, I do know what you mean.

    But… there’s a problem with your argument. Dijon vs. yellow mustard may be a matter of personal preference, but there is definitely an objective measurement of bad–that is, ineffective, unattractive design. It’s not a matter of class, it’s a matter of real standards. Sometimes, anyway.

  2. Frank McClung

    Thanks for the comments Katharino. I’m sorry Blogger ate them. I vow to one day soon port B-L-A-N-K over to the eternal bliss of WordPress or some other reputable blog application. Until then, we’re in Blogger purgatory.

    I know I’ve overstated the case, as usual, to bring something into the light that couldn’t be seen with nuances. You are correct, some design is more effective than others. And helping clients define for each project what effective is for them may be the best route.

  3. katharhino

    Bother… blogger ate my comment.

    I can’t remember everything I had said, but I think the gist of it was this: Dijon vs. yellow mustard is a matter of personal preference only. Good, effective design vs. bad design is not.

    I do hear what you are saying, because I think it’s very easy for designers to be snobby, self-satisfied, or defensive about what they do. It’s important for us to be open to new ideas even if they come from a *gasp* non-designer.

    But…

    There are times when it’s not ok for the client to choose the weaker design. Weaker designers are weaker because they don’t work as well, aren’t as attractive, or aren’t as creative and interesting. Shouldn’t we rather try to communicate WHY one is better than another? Otherwise, what would be the point of trying?

×

Comments are closed.