This is my perception of information design from when I first got into it up until the present day.

This is unofficially the age of information design. Visualization is in vogue. Information is suddenly beautiful. Data is free flowing, ready to be poured, molded, sculpted, and remixed at will. Displays of facts and figures are everywhere, from newspapers to magazines, websites to television, public spaces to the palm of one’s hand.

But amid this frenzy of info-obsession, a fundamental clarity is sorely lacking. For a field centered on demystifying, clarifying, and explaining the complex, information design has a lot of explaining to do for itself. Does anyone really understand what information design is or isn’t given the state of affairs today? Is it possible to achieve a holistic, unified view of the field — from academia to professional practice to the public sphere?

Context

Before diving into the issue, let me provide some context. I live and breathe information design, practicing daily and surveying constantly. I’ve done so for the past twelve years, beginning with an undergraduate thesis specifically focused on information design. In raising these issues here, I am sharing a point of view informed by my experience as an information designer and opening up a broader conversation on this topic — deliberately leaving loose ends untied for the sake of further exploration.

It is also important to note that the field of information design has been continually evolving and growing over time, thanks to work of individuals and organizations who have sought to give it form and meaning. The concerns I list are less criticisms of any efforts to bring clarity than reflections on the confusion that exists today, brought about by the enthusiastic over-production of “info-stuff” and the underdeveloped efforts to synthesize and crystallize real knowledge that advances the field.

For the sake of this post, I am using the term “information design” to refer to the broad spectrum of work that deals with making all types of content and data understandable and usable by people — regardless of the specific tools or technology involved. There is a strong graphic element to information design, but I wouldn’t limit it to the only element. Ambiguous language and varying definitions are central to the confusion that surrounds this subject — and have been for some time — so I recognize that my own use of the term may draw criticism.

Here are my top five observations:

1. There is yet no single, widely-accepted definition of information design.

Wikipedia presently offers this definition:

“…the skill and practice of preparing information so people can use it with efficiency and effectiveness. Where the data is complex or unstructured, a visual representation can express its meaning more clearly to the viewer.”

The International Institute for Information Design, perhaps the closest thing to a professional organization for information design (and to which I belong) defines “information” and “design” separately, then presents a single definition:

“…the defining, planning, and shaping of the contents of a message and the environments in which it is presented, with the intention to satisfy the information needs of the intended recipients…”

The front page of the InfoDesign discussion forum (whose archives date back to 1997)  defines it as:

“…the art and the science of presenting information so that it is understandable and easy to use: effective, efficient and attractive.”

Each of these definitions provides a window into a broader, though still incomplete understanding. It isn’t fully apparent what is considered information or by what skills or means one makes information understandable? Of course, a more exhaustive survey of definitions and descriptions could certainly raise more questions than answers (particularly in the realm of graphic design), but suffice it to say that clarity is still needed.

Looking more closely, information design has long escaped easy definition for numerous reasons. There is debate over whether it is an off-shoot of graphic design, a distinct field unto itself, or a hybrid of many different fields united by a shared purpose. Hand-in-hand with this debate is the question of information design’s history and origins; some think it began with the cave drawings, others think it was a 20th century phenomenon, and yet others place its beginnings somewhere in the Renaissance. Can there ever be a truly far-reaching history of information design?

2. There are no clear professional boundaries around information design.

What was once an unrecognized field with relatively anonymous and unwitting practitioners is now a diverse constellation of fields brimming with their respective experts, gurus, and evangelists. As the picture grows more crowded, the interrelationship of players becomes more fuzzy. What hierarchies and connections exist among the more popularized realms of practice?:

• Data Visualization
• Infographic Design/Illustration
• Visual Thinking
• Information Architecture

Where do other closely-related fields fit in?:

• Library and Information Science
• Technical Writing
• Environmental Graphic Design
• Cartography
• Instructional Design

Answers to these questions are as elusive as the aforementioned definition and origin. Still, there are several consequences of this lack of boundaries and disconnection, ranging from poor public understanding of information design as an actual profession to marketplace confusion over what qualifies as an “information design problem” and who is skilled enough to tackle it. To that last point alone, no professional standards exist for what information designers do nor is there clear recognition or delineation of agencies doing information design work. Every practitioner and agency paves their own way by the types of challenges they tackle, services they offer, processes and methodologies they follow, and deliverables they produce.

3. More emphasis is on execution and visual appeal than analysis.

Armed with an array of sophisticated tools, today’s visualization professionals can readily gather raw content and produce a multitude of views showing as many diverse perspectives as graphic treatments. But the real usefulness of many of these outputs is questionable, as function takes a back seat to form and process yields to product.

Designers (professional and otherwise) take much creative license with content when creating works of information design, making it more beautiful than functional, presumably for the sake of public appeal. Examples of this abound. For instance, GOOD magazine has done a noteworthy job of incorporating information design in clarifying social, political, and environmental issues, but I often cringe at what gets published in the Transparency section. So much rich data, yet so few skillful or insightful visualizations. Would we have such a proliferation of information design artifacts if tools and technology weren’t so readily available — and if more time and mental energy were invested in the content?

4. It’s hard to find places to study information design.

It’s no surprise that the present confusion and lack of clarity within and around information design would pose challenges for those pursuing a formal education in that area. Only a handful of colleges and universities offer any degree programs in information design: Carnegie Mellon, Bentley University and The University of Reading (UK) notably number among them, yet even these programs vary in what is taught or not taught. Some schools fold in a course or perhaps just an assignment or two within a traditional graphic design curriculum. Others assist students in pursuing independent studies and tailoring their courses to suit their interest. As I write this, I don’t know for certain how many programs actually fall under these categories, but I’m sure a listing of those schools would benefit many aspiring information designers.

5. It’s hard to find quality resources dedicated to information design.

There’s a lot of stuff out there about information design. The problem is separating the good from the not so good. Books abound on numerous facets of information design, but in my experience, only a handful yield any lasting benefit. (I have to write a post just on books some time.) Some websites aggregate related content, creating a highly selective view depending on what is most popular, visually attractive or novel. Other sites, like Information Aesthetics and Visual Complexity provide a good current survey of projects and developments in data visualization, but there is little by way of critical thinking or deep analysis. Flowing Data is another great blog featuring data displays and infographics, with the occasional analysis. Edward Tufte’s site falls on the other end of the spectrum, with plenty of discussion and exploration of information design topics, but mainly at the tactical level of data display techniques. Most other sites I’ve seen either dive deep into the technical side of tools and techniques or collect and republish information design examples.

Conclusion

The need for information design has always been high, but I find that too often the ability of the profession to meet that need effectively falls short. There is no shortage of opportunities for information designers to make a difference in the world and to ultimately help solve some of the biggest challenges facing this planet. Without a unified understanding of what the profession is and does, the full potential of information design’s role in society could be diminished, a casualty of fragmentation and misrepresentation.

M74 Spiral Galaxy photo by Simon Dye (Cardiff University) overlaid with Shri Yantra Mandala.

Humanity’s search for knowledge, in its many forms, has always fascinated me. Spanning geographies, cultures, faiths, and generations, the enduring pursuit of truth and insight into the diverse realms of human experience has yielded some of the greatest works of science and art — from the sequencing of the human genome to Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel ceiling. Each school of thought or path of study carries its own distinct challenges, “great questions” and intellectual rewards, but it is the same mind that is driven to find answers.

Several months ago, I had read a New York Times article about Carl Jung’s Red Book, a hauntingly personal collection of writings and paintings exploring the depths of his unconscious. Despite the little knowledge I have of Jung’s work (I admit), I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see this long-lost treasure up close at the Rubin Museum of Art. When I finally made it to the museum over Christmas vacation, I decided to start at the top floor and take a quick walk through the other exhibits first, saving the “best” for last on the bottom floor (surely, I thought, some trippy mandala paintings and multi-limbed Hindu deity sculptures couldn’t hold my attention for very long, fascinating though they may be).

I was quickly proven wrong.

Almost every exhibit blew me away, but one resonated with me the strongest: “Visions of the Cosmos: From the Milky Ocean to an Evolving Universe,” up until May 10, 2010. Here’s a Flickr photo set of the exhibit.

While perspectives shifted greatly from spiritual to conjectural to empirical, the quality of execution and level of diligence in constructing coherent visual narratives were remarkably on par across all works. Metaphor and symbolism were as vital as brush and ink in depicting Buddhist and Hindu cosmologies; the artists behind these works employed the tools of design to depict the interrelationships between physical and ethereal planes with such compelling clarity as to affirm their reality. Turning to the early Western astronomers, meticulous drawings of their observations with the naked eye and with simple telescopes helped demystify the heavens and bring humankind’s grasp of the world beyond Earth within reach, religious controversy aside.

Rounding out the survey of astronomical study was a series of typically dazzling photographs of distant nebulae and galaxies marking our present level of achievement. A projected Powers of 10-style video of The Known Universe flaunted the astonishing accuracy with which we now claim to know the universe and our place in it. On the same wall as the projection but directly above was a giant mandala painting (part of the exhibit “Mandala: The Perfect Circle”). I don’t know if the juxtaposition on the same wall was intentional, but graphically and thematically, the two images made perfect sense together.

Reflecting back on that day, I realized that it is the same quest for knowing that links the devotional artist, the scientist, and the modern information designer. The content, the context, and the methods may be different, but all of these individuals share the same purpose: to model reality — be it physical, spiritual, or otherwise — for human understanding and enlightenment. (Even Jung, in working through his inner turmoil, used art and writing to make sense of what he experienced. Psychological information design?)

Today, the skill of modeling reality has been professionalized into many discrete roles, including information designer, infographic illustrator, data visualization expert, CG artist, et cetera. Technology continues to enhance our understanding of the world and expand the means by which we can communicate. Slowly, what our brains actually do is still evolving: how we perceive what is and conceive of what could be, as well as how we construct understanding. I wonder what a “Visions of the Cosmos” exhibit might look like in 50, 100, or 1,000 years from now. What new models will we create? What new understanding will we reach? What will our universe look like then? Will it still be a “universe”?

(Along the lines of how we know what we know, the Rubin Museum of Art is running a pretty amazing event series called Brainwave 2010. I wish I could attend every session!)

Back in 1999, when I began my career as a graphic designer, I really had very little idea of what I was in for. Sure, there were plenty of glimpses into the field from classes, design lectures, books, magazine articles, and conversations with professional designers, but nothing ever spelled out what it was like to be a designer. Internships, while helpful, offered only a brief taste of real design work. The only of way of truly knowing and understanding design was to dive in and do it.

Now, as 2009 draws to a close, I look back on my career with some sense of accomplishment. There is much I have yet to learn, many more challenges to overcome. So, for those who may be embarking on their own journey as designers or whose careers may already be underway, I present the following top 10 learnings in 10 years:

1. Design is a service, above all. – Contrary to popular design press, professional design work isn’t about pure self-expression or self-gratification. Nor is it about executing orders just to please a client. It’s about understanding clients’ problems and devoting serious time and effort to solving them — “creating value” for them and their customers (apologies for the cliché). Good service is the foundation upon which rewarding long-term relationships are built. Of course, recognition and praise are always welcome outcomes of the process.
2. Design is a business, like any other. – The toughest lessons to learn about design revolve around business: contracts, finances, client relations, hiring, et cetera. Regardless of your role, being knowledgeable in the business side of design helps you work smarter and handle many on-the-job challenges with the big picture in mind. In the later stages of your design career, business savvy pays off huge dividends, so it’s never too early to start learning.
3. Clients aren’t the problem. Misunderstandings are. – All too often, well-intentioned designers and clients end up at each other’s throats over easily-avoidable mistakes. Assumptions, misinterpretations, and other communication gaps can quickly grow into giant chasms as clarity and common grounding are sacrificed for expediency or “efficiency.” Communication skills are critical in all aspects of design work and life in general. As Steven R. Covey states in Habit 5 of The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People: “Seek First to Understand, Then to be Understood.”
4. Creativity is more important than craft. – I like experimenting with software and cool “designy” effects as much as anyone, but I came to recognize early on that the capabilities design programs offer can actually constrain the depth and quality of solutions you develop. Proportionally speaking, getting to the core of a problem and generating solutions should occupy no less than half your time, and should involve generous amounts of investigation, exploration, sketching, rough prototyping, modeling, and experimentation. Simply put: invest in process before product.
5. Be fast. Be good. But don’t be cheap unless it’s for a good cause. – Design work should be based on an agreement that is fair to both designer and client, a “value for value” exchange. However, a designer must be careful to maintain the balance between work expended and profit received. Making accurate project estimates is critical, as is constant communication with a client over the course of a project as time and budget are spent. When deciding on nonprofit clients and/or pro bono work, weigh the benefits and potential positive outcomes against the resources you’ll need to devote to the work.
6. Back up every design decision you make with sound reasoning. – Design solutions don’t sell themselves; make sure everything from the high-level concept down to the finishing techniques you choose link together seamlessly. “Because it looks cool” or “because I like it” aren’t valid justifications for the choices you make.
7. The devil is in the details. – Whether it’s the final files you’re sending to the printer, the e-mail you’re drafting to a client at a critical point in a project, or a big design presentation to win an account, you must vigilantly mind the details. Failure to do so (especially under a tight deadline or in the late evening hours) can be costly, both financially and professionally. Leave time for revision, and try to enlist the help of a fresh pair of eyes to cover your blind spots.
8. Maintain professionalism at all times. – It may seem like a given in a field like design, but it’s astonishing how often professionalism is disregarded by designers, especially those just starting out. It spans everything from e-mails and written communication to telephone demeanor and face-to-face interactions. Professional conduct is less about being impersonal and stiff than it is about respectfulness, sincerity, and consideration in all business contexts. That means biting one’s tongue in the face of criticism, keeping a cool head under stress, and not letting conversations get too personal or casual with clients. We’re all human, but we should be mindful of the boundaries that define our role as designers.
9. You never stop paying your dues. – I still have a hard time with this one, but I’m slowly coming to terms. At every stage in one’s career, there’s always a new challenge or obstacle to overcome: long hours to be logged, tight deadlines to meet, sensitive situations to defuse, new fires to put out. Waiting for the day when you can kick your feet up and reap the rewards of your success can ultimately lead to frustration. If you’re lucky enough to achieve such rare success in design, then congratulations. The best the rest of us can do is to persevere. Sometimes the payoff comes in ways you don’t expect.
10. Broaden your horizons outside of design. – It’s a common trap to fall into: having lots of designer friends, going to design events, reading design magazines and websites, and doing mostly design-related things. A solid diet of design can quickly lead to staleness. Being a designer means participating in the world at large and pursuing diverse interests. By absorbing a range of experiences, you deepen your cultural savvy, broaden your visual vocabulary, and can carry more interesting conversations at design events.

Looking ahead, I’m not sure what the next 10 years will bring, but I’m trying to be optimistic. The economy may continue to expand and contract, markets may emerge and vanish, and the design profession itself may continue to evolve through it all, but some lessons will probably always hold true.