Bring Me the Problem Before It’s a Disaster
There is a very specific moment in almost every project when someone realizes there is a problem.
And there is an equally specific moment when they decide not to tell the designer.
Why?
I have no idea.
Perhaps they think the problem will become embarrassed and leave on its own.
It will not.
Problems are remarkably self-assured.
They sit quietly in the corner, grow several heads, invite friends, order cocktails, and wait until the deadline is six hours away before making their grand entrance.
That is usually when I get the email.
“Small issue.”
There is almost never anything small after the words small issue.
It is generally followed by something like:
“We changed the size.”
“The printer needs it today.”
“Legal has a few comments.”
Or my personal favorite:
“We may need to rethink the whole thing.”
Wonderful.
And what time does the printer close?
Tell Me When It’s Still Fixable
I have been doing this long enough to know that problems happen.
Files arrive late.
Copy changes.
Someone forgot a logo.
Someone approved the wrong photo.
The printer suddenly needs something different.
A person who apparently did not exist during the entire approval process suddenly materializes and has several strong opinions.
Fine.
That is work.
What makes it difficult is not the problem.
It is finding out about the problem after everyone else has known about it for three days.
Because now we are not solving a problem.
We are performing emergency surgery on a brochure while someone stands behind us asking how long it will take.
Designers Are Actually Very Good at Solving Problems
That is, in fact, most of the job.
People think graphic design is about making things pretty.
That is the visible part.
The invisible part is constantly solving small problems so the final piece looks effortless.
The photo doesn’t fit.
The headline is too long.
The copy is too short.
The copy is too long.
The logo has changed.
The logo should not have changed.
Someone wants twelve things in a space designed for six.
Someone else wants one of those twelve things much bigger.
And then, just for sport, another person wants everything centered.
This is normal.
Give me the problem early and I can usually give you options.
Give me the problem late and I can usually give you one option:
Whatever we can still get done without violating the laws of physics.
Those are very different conversations.
There Is No Prize for Hiding It
Sometimes I think people are afraid to tell the designer something has gone wrong because they think we will be annoyed.
Maybe.
For five minutes.
But I promise you, I will be considerably more annoyed when I discover it myself at 11:30 at night.
Especially if someone then says:
“Oh yes, we knew about that.”
Excellent.
Thank you for allowing the problem time to mature.
Perhaps we can bottle it and sell it as a reserve.
Early Problems Are Cheap
This is the part people forget.
A problem discovered early is usually inexpensive.
Change the copy.
Swap the photo.
Move the section.
Adjust the schedule.
Make another version.
Done.
A problem discovered after everything is approved, packaged, uploaded, sent to the printer, reviewed by seventeen people, and blessed by legal is no longer a problem.
It is an event.
Now everyone is involved.
Emails multiply.
People are copied.
Then more people are copied.
Then someone replies all.
Then someone who has never seen the project before joins the conversation and says:
“Just a thought…”
No.
At this point I do not want a thought.
I want a time machine.
“Couldn’t We Just…”
There are four words that should make every designer nervous:
“Couldn’t we just…”
Because whatever follows is never just anything.
“Couldn’t we just make this one photo bigger?”
“Couldn’t we just add another page?”
“Couldn’t we just move everything around?”
“Couldn’t we just change the size?”
Of course.
And while we are at it, perhaps we could just rebuild the kitchen because the toaster moved.
Small changes have a funny way of dragging six other things behind them.
That is why designers occasionally stare at you after you say just.
We are calculating the blast radius.
I Would Rather Hear Bad News Early
This applies to clients, account people, printers, vendors, everyone.
Tell me.
The file is wrong.
Fine.
The dimensions changed.
Fine.
You hate the photo.
Fine.
You forgot an entire page.
Not ideal, but still tell me.
There is something wonderfully efficient about knowing the truth while there is still time to do something useful with it.
What I cannot work with is surprise.
Especially surprise wearing a deadline.
The Designer Is Not the Last Stop
This may be the part I wish more people understood.
The designer should not be the person brought in after every other person has already discussed the problem.
If the problem affects the design, bring the designer into the conversation.
Early.
I may have a solution nobody else has considered.
I may tell you something is impossible.
I may tell you it is easy.
I may tell you it will take three hours instead of three days.
But at least we will know.
Because sitting around a conference table speculating about what the designer might be able to do is certainly one way to spend an afternoon.
Calling the designer is generally faster.
Bring Me the Actual Problem
Not the polished version.
Not the version everyone has already agreed upon.
Not the version where someone has attempted to solve it in PowerPoint.
Please, especially not that one.
Bring me the actual problem.
This is wrong.
This is missing.
This does not fit.
We changed our minds.
We made a mistake.
Good.
Now we can work.
Designers are problem solvers.
We can usually fix far more than people think.
But there is one thing even the best designer cannot manufacture.
Time.
So bring me the problem.
Preferably before it has grown three heads, invited legal, copied twelve people, and become a disaster.
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