Design & “Perfection”

What even is “perfect” for design and why am I striving for it?

A Moment of Realization

I’ve been working on a project for my company for about 2 months now (first project yay!). It’s my ideal first project too, about improving the integrated healthcare experience for senior patients on medicare. It’s deeply focused on research, it's about people, it’s about multiple systems, it's messy, and I love it.

My role is quite common for designers working in a research capacity. I am in charge of taking all of our research, whether it be documentation from our client or first-hand research from talking to our users or in my case, the patients, and turning it into some sort of designed deliverable. Currently, I am obsessing over making journey maps that represent that patient's journey through the company’s multiple service lines. It’s complicated, it doesn’t fit in a linear path, it has flaws in its logic, and overall, it’s imperfect. But maybe that is me being harsh to myself, as I tend to be. Or maybe it’s me being a “perfectionist.”

I didn’t realize my perfectionism was so obvious until I was chatting with my manager the other day. We have biweekly check-ins just to see how I am feeling. I casually mentioned that I tend to be a bit of a perfectionist and my manager, in a voice dripping with sarcasm, says “Really?? No way, Mihika, I never would’ve guessed.” At first, I was taken aback by her response. I was shocked that it was that obvious. I thought I was good at hiding it, or maybe just that I was doing my job well. To be clear, I really like my manager and I know she made that statement from a good place. She then proceeds to tell me that most other designers at my company are like me and that it just must be the type of person this company attracts.

Today’s Stream of Consciousness — the Design Perfectionist

I don’t know if all designers are perfectionists, but I can describe the type that is. They obsess over the details, they keep circling, iterating from one version to the next, finding all the flaws until they can’t take it anymore. This personality trait extends into my personal life too. I am a type-A planner, that tries to make everything work and fit perfectly. I am overly organized and can be nitpicky. As I have gotten to know my coworkers, I have noticed that many are very much the same as me, professionally and personally, as my manager pointed out.

Consulting work demands a lot from its designers. We are operating on tight deadlines, creating deliverables for clients with high expectations. We compare how we perform to others in the company, maybe not in an outward way, but with a subconscious comparison of raises and the number of projects or initiatives we have worked on. We are scared of the consequences if we fail, so we don’t let ourselves do so.

I know that I am not proposing a new idea. There is a long link back between neoliberalism, capitalism, and the drive for perfection. It’s embedded into the culture of America, taught to students at a young age to be the best, comparing themselves constantly to people around them.

I grew up in the Bay Area, a place that embodies these principles. The idea that I had to be the best to achieve anything was built into my core being. I set high standards for myself, thriving on the validation I would receive when I achieved my lofty goals. There was also inbuilt competition, based on a limited number of spots in top colleges. In our young minds, our futures were dependent on getting those spots, so we had no choice but to be the best.

Looking Back to College

This thought process followed me into college but I didn’t feel that competitive spirit, or the desire to be the best among my classmates. My perfectionism manifested in a different way — I never knew when to stop working on my projects. In my sophomore year, I continuously broke down in my studio class, feeling like my work would never be enough. There would always be something I would forget, something that wouldn’t work exactly right. I couldn't do enough to make sure my design was, well, perfect. One day, my professor pulled me outside my studio. He expressed that he used to feel the same way, but eventually figured out how much was enough for his design, in his own eyes. He said that with experience, I would be able to make that same conclusion.

And he was right. By my senior year in college, I dropped the need for perfection in my projects. I stopped when I knew when my design was good enough. I based it on how much thought I had put into it, if it made sense to other people I showed it to, and if it solved at least a part of the problem I was seeking to solve. And of course, there was always a way to make my projects better, I could iterate endlessly if I wanted. But I chose to stop.

Now, at work, my perfectionist tendencies are back. I just don’t know anymore when my work is good enough for someone else’s eyes. That is the biggest difference I have noticed between school to work. At school, my designs were for myself and I determined when to stop. At work, my designs are for someone else, and I don’t know anymore what constitutes even good design, let alone perfect.

The Tension between Perfectionism and Design

The challenge with being a designer that is a perfectionist is that there will never be one “perfect” design for any problem. Designed solutions are a series of informed decisions made by the designer, weighing one thing the design can solve against another it can’t. No one design can achieve every objective it set out to.

Circling back to my conversation with my manager, ie where this whole article stems from, it really made me think why? Why do I embody perfectionism in my work? It hurts me on a personal and mental health level, causing me to be more anxious. It affects the way that I feel about myself.

But what about the effects of perfectionism on my work itself? Designs don’t exist in a vacuum, my work is not just for me, so who is my desire for perfection hurting other than just myself?

What would happen if I let go of my desire for perfectionism? I wonder if my perfection paralyzes me from trying new things, stemming from my fear of failure, which likely results in stifled designs. I wonder if letting go would open me up to more ideas and more diverse ways of thinking. Maybe embracing imperfection would actually result in richer conversations, an open-flowing space of critique, and therefore better solutions for everyone involved.