Graphic Journey Blog

The graphic designer and ethics

 

I make a three-hour car journey each week from Dorset to London. I use it as my thinking space. My phone is off and no one can get at me. Sometimes I seem to disappear into a trance-like state and become oblivious to the motorway signs that flash by until – hey presto – I have arrived. But, more often than not, I solve design problems or think about getting older, what may lie ahead or what I have been doing for the past half century in this funny old business called graphic design. Under normal circumstances, I am very much a ‘here and now in the moment’ sort of person, but when cosseted alone in a car on an open road, my mind seems to want to open up in sympathy. This is what was going on in my head during a recent M3 journey back to Dorset, why not join me...

A decade ago, I gave a speech at the Royal Society of Arts. It was called From Caveman to Spray Can. It was 40 minutes long and I’d thought about it deeply (if you’ve got the time to spare, click on the link at the foot of this post and it will take you to it, but make a coffee first).

Why am I thinking about this? Well, last week you might have heard about the new advice given by the World Health Organization on the hidden sugar levels in everyday food and drinks. They have advised that we should halve our intake – talk about bolting the stable door… We all know that, with the rapid increase in obesity, especially in children, we are on a collision course for many unpleasant medical issues down the line, the key one being diabetes.

So where does graphic design fit into all this?

All will become clear after you read this extract from my speech back in 2004…

“The abundance of alcohol, dressed up in fun, funky packaging, has also been targeted directly at the young, inexperienced drinker. Before you can turn around, it could be your own son or daughter who has transformed into one of the many marauding late-night drinkers who are making so many of our town centres no-go areas after 10 pm. And scenes like this are commonplace...

And here we are during the very month that the licensing laws are being extended, which will – I have no doubt – contribute to making matters even worse.

It is the same designers who make attractive to innocent eyes products filled with sugar, fat, salt and artificial additives that can heighten a child’s activity to such an extent that some have to be prescribed tranquilisers. A far better use of the graphic designers’ talents would be to devise a universal, clear labelling policy imposed on all food retailers so that concerned parents can see at a glance what these products really contain and the harm they can cause.

It is the same designers who decorate the packaging of McDonald’s and Burger King with free promotional merchandising gifts, in order to lure our children to the latest Hollywood blockbuster at the local multiplex cinemas, where they will be fed yet more sugar, fat and salt in vast buckets while watching movies that mostly dull the mind. 

And it is the same designers who create staggeringly complex interactive software games, but many so unbelievably violent that they are given an 18 certificate. But still they fall into the hands of eight-year-olds, with their parents often oblivious to what their young are viewing on their computers or what it is doing to their impressionable minds.

All of the areas that I have mentioned come into direct contact with the graphic designer.They are ‘designed’ but, in my view, without any or very little sense of social responsibility.”

Well, that was ten years ago, and I think you’ll agree that little has changed.

We may all be in love with our profession as graphic designers, obsessing over kerning, the quality of paper, the craft of letterpress or some new-fangled form of digital printing or binding. We may be happy awarding each other prizes for our work in a back-slapping, mutual admiration society. But, let’s face it: in the overall scheme of things, we don’t amount to much when compared to a doctor, a policeman/woman, a nurse, care worker, a teacher, an overseas aid worker or a research scientist. No, we can’t measure up to that group.

But what we can do with what skill we have is put it to good use. Use that can benefit society rather that harm it, as described in the quote from my speech above. If you are a designer, ask yourself: am I colluding with a food or drinks manufacture in minimising the bad points of a product though a designed subterfuge to make the product look enticing to children? If the answer is yes, you have some serious thinking to do. A design ‘strategy’ is often little more than a plan of action to hoodwink customers into thinking that a product is good and safe for them and their children when it is not. Or you might be colluding on promotional material to divert attention from the many levels (with still more coming out of the woodwork) of criminal activities of the banking fraternity. There have been a plethora of insultingly patronising promotions in recent months attempting to paint a ‘caring’ banking picture when we all know that they don’t give a shit and all that matters are their profit margins and the ever-increasing ‘compensation’ for the very people who plotted and planned the criminal strategy in the first place but never ended up in prison. They are still there briefing their advertising agencies to come up with yet more condescending white wash like this...

Just one on the many ads spewed out of the bank to deflect our attention from their wrong doings.

As you can tell, being with me here in the car, I’m on a bit of a rant. But, to be serious for a moment, I have been fortunate during my 50 years as a designer in attaching myself to things I love and have a passion for: literature, cinema, theatre, dance and music. All of these are areas that best reflect and comment on our existence; they make us think and they inspire us. When it comes to work, I have always believed that if you exude enthusiasm about something you love, it communicates powerfully to a client and they know you will give so much more to a project.

The truth is that the graphic design community can do so much in bringing beauty, intelligence and integrity to our society. But it can also collaborate in helping to degrade life to an increasingly depressing level. So please use your talent wisely.

Here's something that might suprise you: every designer’s favourite, an Innocent smoothie. We all love their witty, charming, conversationally crafted copy and their unconventional style. But what they never tell you is...

that some of their smoothies contain the equivalent of 3.5 Krispy Kreme sugar-glazed donuts.

The other designer favourite is Vitaminwater, with its pseudo-pharmaceutical packaging looking brimming with health benefits. Not a bit of it.

Every time you down a bottle, 13 tablespoons of sugar go down with it.

Interestingly, both of these companies were bought by Coca Cola – now we’re talking sugar. For more surprises, look here.

And to read the full From Caveman to Spray Can speech from 2004, click here.

Tony Palladino

Tony Palladino, 1930-2014

“Having talent isn’t worth much unless you know what to do with it… It isn’t the light at the end of the tunnel, it’s the light from within.”- Tony Palladino.

Tony Palladino was one of those muscular American graphic designers who surfaced in New York in the late 1950’s along with contemporaries, Bob Gill, Robert Brownjohn, Ivan Chermayeff, and George Lois.

He was most known for the book jacket of Robert Bloch’s Psycho. The simple one colour design emotionally conjured up the mood of the book through Palladino’s dramatic torn typography.

Palladino died on May 14 in Manhattan. He was 84.

Ken Russell: Cinematic awakenings

Still from A House in Bayswater

One of Ken Russell’s early documentary films, A House in Bayswater 1960, is being screened on 26^th June for the inaugural KPH Film Club outing.

Both written and directed by Russell it centres on the tenants of a house in London’s Bayswater, under imminent threat of demolition. It is a fascinating premonition of what Russell would later develop in his dramatised work.

On hand for the evening will be Russell’s daughter, costume designer Vicki Russell, who will give a unique and personal insight into her father’s work and his love of the Notting Hill area.

And if that were not enough you can have a great meal too. For more information and booking details click here.

Ken Russell in his heyday

More on Ken Russell here.

A Letter from Michael Wolff No.6

Here is another letter from Michael Wolff. Originally published for the readers of Kyoorius magazine in Mumbai. But his words and wisdom are universal and worth sharing with everyone.

Dear Reader,

I’m starting with an apology. I promised to write you an autobiographical letter about the things and images that have inspired me and still inspire me in what I do. But writing this has overwhelmed me and I’m still working on it for you. Please be patient with me.

At the same time as writing the letter I promised, I’ve been distracted by a quote. It’s a quote that’s caused me to reflect and think. It relates to our behavior as designers and in particular to the magazines that serve our business.

I think you know by now that I’ve always thrived on distractions.

I don’t always arrive at destinations that I intend to reach. I let distractions take me on extraordinary journeys. I think not knowing where you’ll arrive is the essence of creativity. If you already know you won’t be surprised by the magic of what you can create. I hope you’ll find these reflections useful, and that maybe they’ll become thoughts you’ll want to reflect on too.

Finding this distracting and insightful quote was a surprise. I wish I’d seen it many years ago. It was by a man called Norman Vincent Peale. He was born in the USA during 1898 and died twenty years ago. I’d never heard of him. He was best known for being the champion of ‘the power of positive thinking’. I think he coined the phrase.

He said many inspirational things including this. “The way to happiness: Keep your heart free from hate, your mind from worry. Live simply, expect little, give much. Scatter sunshine, forget self, think of others. Try this for a week and you’ll be surprised.” 

But the quote that’s caused me to stop in my tracks was this:

“The trouble with most of us

is that we'd rather be ruined by praise

than saved by criticism.”

I’ve always valued criticism. I’ve never done flawless work. Criticism is nourishment. It’s the sharpener without which our blades grow blunt.

But I think craving praise, the way it seems to me that we often do, is ruinous. I think many designers are easily seduced into self-adulation. We seem to be too easily herded into mutual admiration, ceremonies and awards that focus entirely on praise.  How many doctors compete for ‘the annual kidney transplant of the year’ awards? Yes, the Nobel

Prize gives honour to work of great distinction. But for an ad or a piece of graphic design, come on.

It seems as if awards or being published in a magazine have come to be the most important measure of the quality of a designer’s work - less banal than “was it effective”, “did it sell more stuff” or “how much money did we make out of this client”. 

Despite those feelings, “Congratulations” has always been the first thing I want to say to anyone whose work is honoured by winning an award. Of course it’s an achievement to win recognition for the quality of your work from juries or judges made up of people whose work you may admire.

In the past I was always excited to have my work and my name included with respect, and sometimes even envy, in any selection of excellence by my peers. It always felt like having climbed to some sort of summit – my head clearly seen above the sea of normality. But, and there’s always a ‘but’ for me, the chosen work always had flaws – flaws that taunted me and always insisted on being noticed. They still taunt me today.

I don’t think flawless work exists any more than flawless people. In life – with a little humility – there’s always the possibility of addressing flaws and correcting them. With work, it’s usually too late. By the time you see the flaws, the work’s been produced. Even a car as sublime as the Citroen DS had flaws, and like every other car, or ad, or brand identity or any piece of work from the world of design, flaws are usually there.

Occasionally something like the Red Cross appears – more or less flawless. Or a poster by a ‘master’, a timeless piece of architecture, a fantastic ad, a breath-taking product or a perfect piece of writing by a great copywriter. These iconic pieces are rare. Why so, when there are so many brilliant and talented people in our wide world of design?

I think there are two main reasons. The first is vanity – a deadly state of mind that settles for substituting a craving for credit and recognition for simply doing a service. That’s a personal issue. Most people can recognise when they’re drinking from the intoxicating chalice of recognition.

The second reason is more serious and profound. I think it’s a flaw in how the design industry has expanded. The design industry has slid relatively unnoticed into the clothes of mediocre and conventional business. Wanting recognition and wealth has been the basis for this evolution.

As the design business was born out of the design profession, we believed that being like our clients and being reasonable would somehow validate our efforts and we would glide into business life like lawyers and management consultants. What happened then was that we were swept up into the world of process, deadlines and project management. Serious time for thought, reflection and criticism was eroded and design became a day-rate affair.

In the early days of Wolff Olins we were free to introduce six-week holidays to encourage an input mentality over an entirely output one and an appetite for curiosity beyond just reading magazines, to balance what was sometimes an atmosphere of stressed output. We encouraged someone to take a three-year course in anthropology, on full pay, so that through this person’s evolution we too would learn more about how people behave in groups.

We collaborated with writers because an obsession with the visual aspects of design often ignored the power of language. Almost endless criticism was not seen as disloyalty, time wasting or sabotage, it was integral to honing a good solution. And it took time, because it often meant, ‘throw it out and start again’.

We all know that creativity can take minutes, even seconds, and it can take weeks and months. A moment of insight turned into a creative idea can change the world. Months of mediocre process can produce the Emperor’s new clothes – and it often does. Project management and pressure to deliver in a conventional, unquestioned time frame, can often blind us to opportunities we need to see.

How can we reclaim the creative, artistic, expressive, original and intuitive initiatives that define us as designers, from the grinding, boring, greedy and uninspiring businesses that are subsuming so many of us? Just as with energy and how we use it, and architecture and how we live in it, and money and how we think of it and use it, we always have to start all over again. A maxim of mine is ‘Always be starting’.

Although awards deserve congratulations, don’t be seduced by them into thinking everything is fine and rosy. It isn’t. The world needs our insights, our imagination, our thinking and our inspiration to a higher purpose for our clients more that it ever did. Too often, we’re still more pre-occupied with useful things for ourselves – recognition, growing our companies and gaining material wealth – than useful things for the world we live in.

Hopefully this worn out old paradigm is dying.
Long live a new and more fruitful one.

Read more from Michael Wolff here

Things I like...

This cover was designed by John Gorham in 1977 for which he received a D&AD Silver Award in '79.

It was one in a series of three produced for Music Sales.

Gorham often collaborated with others; in this case, it was Richard Seymour and Howard Brown.

But this is a quintessentially Gorham piece. Every detail has been lovingly designed and exquisitely constructed for this photograph, which was shot by Keith Froussis. 

Gorham’s work may not fit in with the current prevailing zeitgeist of modernist-inspired designers like Otl Aicher, Joseph Müller-Brockmann and Wim Crouwel, but (in my view) the latter’s work has a clinical functionality void of warmth, wit and emotion – something that Gorham's work always had.

I have no doubt that Gorham's body of work will be rediscovered by a new generation of young designers in the not-too-distant future.

Find out more about John Gorham here

 

Blast from a distant graphic past

One of the delights (and horrors) of working in publishing, as I did from the early 60’s to the late 70’s, is that your work comes back to haunt you. With Abbe Books now being the main worldwide source for collectors, they are able to get 1^st editions complete with the original dust jackets.

This one turned up over the weekend. I designed it in 1964 when I was just 21, for publishers Hodder & Stoughton. The main typeface used is Schmalfette Grotesk, which I cut out from copies of the trendy magazine of the time, Twen. More about that here

 

Philip Thompson: Wit and wisdom

These wonderfully witty and joyful illustration additions to photographs are by Philip Thompson, who I have written about before on this blog.

This little series was produced to populate an annual report for City & Guilds designed by The Partners in 1994.

 

 

Thompson, sadly no longer with us, was also an outstanding graphic designer for which he was made a Royal Designer for Industry. More about him here.

 

Things I like...

I bought this perpetual calendar in 1979…

  It was designed in 1976 by the late Massimo Vignelli 

And this was his design manta…

I'm still using my calendar...

 

In my studio in Dorset.

Massimo was right.

No doubt his is up there reorganising heaven.

5th June 1989