For much of my career, I've watched designers work incredibly hard to become better at their craft. They study typography, color, composition and visual communication. They master software, develop technical skills and learn how to bring ideas to life.
But somewhere along the way, I think we've allowed the value of design to become too closely associated with the things we produce rather than the thinking that makes those things effective.
A client asks for a flyer. We make a flyer. A stakeholder requests a new logo. We design a logo. Someone needs a social media graphic. We create one…and when we're really good at what we do, we make those things beautifully. But what happens when the thing we've been asked to create isn't actually what the audience needs?
That's where designers have an opportunity and I believe a responsibility, to lead.
But what does that responsibility look like in practice? As I think about the future of our profession, There are three areas where we need to become more intentional about how we demonstrate the value of design, advocate for our expertise and prepare the next generation to lead.
1. The danger of defining design by its deliverables
One of the most important lessons I've learned throughout my career is that a creative brief isn't always the same thing as a clearly defined problem. Someone may know what they want us to make without fully understanding what they're trying to accomplish. And that's not necessarily a failure on their part. They're bringing their own expertise, priorities and perspective to the conversation.
Our responsibility is to bring ours.
What are we trying to accomplish? Who are we trying to reach? What do we want them to understand, feel or do? What barriers are preventing that from happening? Sometimes the answer really is a flyer. Other times, the conversation reveals that the audience needs something entirely different, because design isn't simply about producing something visually appealing. It's about shaping how people understand information, perceive an organization, navigate experiences and make decisions.
A thoughtfully designed wayfinding system can help someone navigate an unfamiliar hospital. A cohesive brand experience can help people recognize and connect with an organization across countless interactions. An audience-driven campaign can transform complicated information into something meaningful and actionable.
Those aren't simply aesthetic accomplishments. They're strategic contributions.
And yet, when we allow design to be defined primarily by its deliverables, we make it easier for others to view creative teams as production resources rather than strategic partners.
AI makes that distinction increasingly consequential.
If the perceived value of design is simply producing a flyer, presentation or social graphic, it's reasonable for someone to wonder why they shouldn't use a tool that can generate one in seconds.
But the ability to produce something isn't the same as understanding what should be produced, why it matters or whether it actually works.
If we want others to recognize the strategic value of design, we have to become better at demonstrating it.
2. Expertise must be demonstrated, not simply asserted
I've been reading *The Death of Expertise* by Tom Nichols, a book recommended to me by Ellis Verdi of DeVito/Verdi.
One of the ideas I've been reflecting on is the tension between having access to information and understanding the value of expertise. It's an interesting thing to consider in a world where almost anyone can access tools that produce professional-looking creative work, but I don't believe expertise should be defined by who has the most impressive title, the longest résumé or the ability to use software that others haven't learned.
Expertise develops through education, experience, observation, experimentation and the willingness to continue learning. It also comes with a responsibility to make our knowledge useful to others, and in design, that means learning to explain our decisions in ways that connect creative thinking to the needs of the audience and the organization.
I've spent much of my career working at the intersection of creative expression, brand strategy and organizational leadership. One thing I've learned is that advocating for design often requires translating our thinking into a language that people outside our discipline can understand.
When I'm in critique with my students, one of my favorite questions is simply, "Why?"
When they explain their design choices, express appreciation for someone's work or offer a critique, I want them to understand the reasoning behind their observations. Why does strong visual hierarchy matter? Why do you believe this particular solution will or won't connect with the intended audience? What makes one approach more effective than another?
It's not enough to say something looks good or doesn't work. We need to understand why, and we need to be able to explain it because a strong visual hierarchy isn't simply good composition. It helps people understand information and recognize what deserves their attention. A cohesive brand system isn't simply about making everything look like it belongs together. It helps people recognize an organization across different experiences, building familiarity and supporting trust. Audience-driven messaging isn't simply about choosing the right words. It's about understanding what matters to someone and communicating in a way that creates a meaningful connection.
These are the kinds of connections we need to be able to articulate.
When someone challenges a creative recommendation, our response shouldn't have to be, *"Trust me, I'm the designer."* We should be able to explain why a particular approach serves the audience, supports the objective and creates a more effective experience.
Now, that doesn't mean every creative decision can be reduced to a metric or that intuition has no place in design. Experience, artistry and intuition are valuable parts of our expertise.
But we should be able to connect our recommendations to something more meaningful than personal preference.
That's how expertise becomes influence. And it's how designers begin contributing to the conversations that shape the work rather than simply executing the decisions made before they enter the room.
3. Teaching designers to advocate for their thinking
As both a creative director and an educator, I spend a lot of time thinking about how we prepare the next generation of designers. We teach them the fundamentals. We help them develop technical proficiency, understand design principles and create thoughtful, well-crafted work.
All of that matters enormously. But are we doing enough to prepare them to advocate for the value of their thinking?
Can they explain why they made a particular creative decision? Can they connect their recommendations to audience needs and communication objectives? Can they challenge a brief constructively without making the person who wrote it feel dismissed?
And what happens when someone says, *"I don't like it,"* or *"Can you just make it look like this?"*
Do they know how to move that conversation beyond personal preference? These are skills I believe we need to develop just as intentionally as typography, composition or technical proficiency, because a designer who creates excellent work but struggles to articulate its value may have limited influence over the direction of a project. A designer who understands the audience, recognizes the strategic opportunity and can explain the reasoning behind a recommendation has a greater opportunity to shape the work before production even begins, and they don't need a creative director title to do it. They need the knowledge, confidence and communication skills to contribute meaningfully to the conversation.
As a creative leader, I believe I have a responsibility to help develop those capabilities in the people I lead. That means bringing designers into strategic conversations, giving them opportunities to present and explain their recommendations and helping them understand how their work connects to larger organizational objectives. It also means giving them room to develop their own perspectives rather than simply teaching them to defend mine.
I want designers to understand that their expertise has value beyond execution. And I want them to feel confident contributing that expertise, even when they're the least experienced person in the room.
Why this matters now
AI is making creative production faster and more accessible than ever.
I see tremendous potential in that. It can help us explore ideas, accelerate production and spend more time on the work that requires deeper thought and human understanding, but I also worry about what happens if we allow the speed and accessibility of production to further diminish the perceived value of design expertise.
We risk creating an environment where the ability to generate something becomes more important than understanding whether it should exist in the first place. Where visually polished but generic work becomes acceptable simply because it's fast. Where the strategic contribution of designers is overlooked because the deliverable itself has become easier to produce, and where emerging designers are encouraged to master the tools without developing the knowledge and communication skills necessary to advocate for the work those tools help create.
I don't believe the answer is to resist AI or insist that every creative task requires an experienced designer. The answer is to become much more intentional about the value we bring to the process and how we communicate it.
We need to demonstrate that design is about more than making things look good. It's about understanding people, influencing perception, solving communication problems and creating meaningful connections. And we need to prepare the next generation to do the same, because the future of our profession won't be shaped solely by how well we use the tools available to us. It will also be shaped by how effectively we demonstrate the value of our expertise, advocate for our contribution and help others develop the confidence to do the same.
As Designers we have a responsibility to understand the value of what we bring to the table and help others recognize it. And as creative leaders, it's our responsibility to ensure the designers we lead feel empowered, equipped and supported to do just that.