Are you ready for the design-led revolution?

Over the past year I’ve been fortunate to collaborate with the sustainability team at Autodesk to envision their support for the design-led revolution. Haven’t heard of it? You may not know the DLR moniker, but you’ve seen revolutionary design in action. From affordable prosthetics to solar robotics, high-impact solutions are emerging everywhere. And just in the nick of time!

The reinvention needed to make our planet livable for 9 billion is immense, and I love that Autodesk is committed to helping designers, architects, builders, engineers, and entrepreneurs reshape our world. We need more companies like this leading the way.

Their aim isn’t only to raise awareness about epic challenges and inspire people to do what’s right, although that’s certainly a big part of it. It’s also about helping designers and companies get ahead of  the inevitable resource shortages, urbanization, and climate change coming our way. To stay relevant — and profitable — in the future, you must start thinking differently now.

So, how will you design a better future?

Credit where credit’s due: The awesome folks at Free Range are the storytellers behind the design-led revolution video, manifesto, and hero case studies.

Leaving a mark

CEH letterNot many things are as rewarding as seeing your work endure!

This week I received a charming note from a former pro bono client, the Center for Environmental Health, in thanks for my annual donation:
“Dear Erica, Thanks for supporting our work so generously. Of course, how could you say “no” to an organization with a logo as beautiful as this one!!”

Nearly a decade ago, back in my design days, I created that logo. Every time I get a mailing from CEH, it makes me smile to see that energetic orange burst. They do such valuable, powerful work to protect our health — it’s wonderful to know I have contributed lasting value to their mission.

This project was particularly meaningful for me. It was the first time I truly stepped into being a strategist, instead of merely strategic. It was a process that challenged me to my core, with each surprise turn pushing me towards something better and sharper. It was also one of the last visual identities I designed, and certainly one of the best. A lot of the credit goes to the client team for that — when I felt stuck, their collaboration and passion helped me see what was possible.

Thanks, Michael! Loved hearing from you.

Purpose drivers

It seems everyone is talking about purpose these days. Imperative has a new take on what purpose means in your career — it’s not the cause you work for, but how you work.

Curious to see what surprises it might reveal, I took Imperative’s purpose driver quiz. My results:

My purpose drivers from Imperative

 

This is spot on! In fact, if you reverse the order it’s an overview of my job as a brand strategist: I generate new insights that create opportunities for organizations.

Taking the test revealed an important facet of what makes work meaningful to me — a time horizon of a year or less. While I certainly look years ahead when developing strategies, it’s important for me to see visible progress in the near-term and to know my work won’t vanish into the corporate void. This accounts for my preference for scrappy, responsive organizations over bureaucratic ones.

Closely related is my preference for organizations, as opposed to individuals or societies. The one-on-one aspects of my work are deeply satisfying — little compares to the a-ha moment when a leader suddenly sees his situation in a whole new way — but the real value is turning individual transformation into a bigger organizational shift. And while I love the idea of shifting society, that feels a little too big. Not to mention systemic changes take years, decades even, to pay off. If they ever do.

Why does knowing your drivers matter? Here’s an example: Let’s say I’m passionate about conscious capitalism. These results tell me I’ll be happier working with a B Corporation, where I can directly impact and enable their success, rather than getting involved in community organizing or policy for this cause. Since I often wonder if supporting cause-driven organizations is enough and think I should be contributing on a higher level, it’s important to understand that what seems more meaningful may not be. I’m right where I should be.

I met Imperative’s CEO Aaron Hurst a decade ago when I became an early volunteer with the Taproot Foundation, which he also founded. He did a great job building Taproot into what it is today, and I look forward to seeing what he does at Imperative.

Building a meaningful career has been incredibly important to me, and hope Imperative can help more people find their purpose.

Updated to add: Want to dive deeper? Check out the Purpose Economy site and book!

Acceptance and Gratitude

Recently I had the good fortune to find a forgotten family gem, personal histories from WWII written by two of my grandfather’s brothers. It was an opportunity to learn about uncles I barely knew and get personal insights into one of the most important events of the 20th century.

What struck me was how often the word “lucky” came up in their accounts. Certainly they both mentioned hardships, both personal and physical, but their gratitude for what they did have — especially in contrast to those who had it so much worse — was deeply moving. Each brother spent about 3-1/2 years in the service, a long time to be in a war and away from home, and yet they told their stories with acceptance and grace. Even their comments about the futility of arguing with the Army had a certain air of positive resolve, rather than bitterness or even resignation. My grandfather, his three brothers, and their uncle (shown above) all served many years, and all came home. Those must have been long years not only for them, but for their wives and family as well.

Stoicism is a hallmark of my father’s family, although I did not inherit as much of it as I would like. I never forget I have been very lucky in life, but reading their stories inspires me to focus more on remembering the good more than the bad.

Explainers

Exploratorium ExplainersThis weekend a friend was in town, and visitors are great prompts to do all the local things we don’t get around to — in this case, the new Exploratorium!

Something that caught my eye is their name for exhibit guides: Explainers. It’s a miniscule detail compared to the immensity and wonder of all the hands-on exhibits, but this struck me as truly the perfect word. In contrast to titles like Docent, Explainer is simple, kid-friendly, and communicates exactly what they do. Bonus points: Exploratorium Explainers is alliterative!

While small, this is a touchpoint that reinforces a playful, thoughtful brand experience.

 

The comfort of ritual

I first visited Tadich more than 25 years ago during my first family trip to San Francisco. Over the years we have returned there time after time for local classics like cioppino, hangtown fry, and petrale sole.

Tadich is a San Francisco institution, the oldest restaurant in the city and the kind of place politicians and financiers meet for a late lunch or a post-work martini. It is the very definition of old-school with its white-coated servers, career bartenders who know their classic cocktails, and wood-paneled rooms perfect for a private lunch.

My parents and I made our annual pilgrimage last week on a typically chilly, cloudy day. We camped out in one of the little wooden rooms for a long lunch, then wandered through some downtown buildings — we’re always on the lookout for architectural details — and finished up shopping for cheese at the Ferry Building. Food, wine, and architecture make for a perfect day!

I’m not always a fan of tradition in a larger cultural context, but I enjoy family rituals like this which provide a comforting touchstone and a connection to personal history.

Desert calm

I have always found the desert Southwest immensely calming. I assumed it was simply the comfortable feeling of being back in my childhood home — it never felt right when I lived in states without mountains — but on my last trip it occurred to me it could be the desert itself.

There is a reassuring constancy to the endless expanse of sand, with its soothing, monochromatic palette. The sheer scale of the desert slows down time — it can take hours to approach and pass a mountain. Plant growth can be imperceptible year over year. The weather doesn’t change for months on end. Here, past and future blend together in an unchanging, infinite time stream. And, the desert thrives in the most unlikely ways; its inhabitants are a testament to the ingenuity and persistence of life itself. Creativity abounds, hidden in the minute details of a seemingly barren landscape.

The desert endures, and I find hope and comfort in it.

Connect the dots

In my continuing journey to define my unique selling proposition, here is another personal infographic. This one describes the kind of thinking that makes me happiest: The challenge of taking a disconnected or even seemingly impossible set of conditions and making sense of it.

It starts with making sure all the known points are on the map. Then, explode the system out into a Rube Goldberg contraption of craziness — discover the unknown points, explore the context, and swim in the data until patterns emerge. Once the systems and opportunities are revealed the really hard part begins, isolating the key points and wrangling them into a deceptively simple system. That last part usually takes a few iterations.

This is a typical design thinking approach, certainly not unique to me, and it was fun to go through the process to make the graphic about the process. I’m hoping all this will lead me to more clearly articulating my own key points and system.

Five-finger discount

Cognac is crazy popular in my neighborhood judging by how quickly the shelves are cleared out during a sale. And to keep those shelves from emptying themselves, cognac is always locked up.

What’s a brand to do when it becomes known for being shoplifted? If you’re Hennessey, you create a branded, locked case.

It can be presented as a theft-protection freebie for small stores, but the resulting in-store brand advertising is the gift that keeps on giving. There’s also a subtle message about the product being so coveted and valuable, it has to be locked up. Well played.

The opposite of inspiration

A client’s main office has a thoroughly depressing interior despite the building’s landmark architecture. The drabness is made all the more noticeable in contrast to their recent brand refresh, which uses great colors and smart messaging.

Every time I visit I think about what a disconnect this is — the employee experience doesn’t match the bright, friendly customer experience they are trying so hard to create. They’ve overlooked the physical environment and employee experience as part of brand alignment, a common mistake.

I thought the endless clusters of beige cubes were the worst of it until I had a meeting in this conference room, which is apparently where teal chairs from the 80s go to die.