Kiley Daniel Meehan

Writing — Essay 03

Late Bloomers and Product Design

On wandering paths, generalists, and the quiet virtue of arriving late.

Generally, in my spare time, I make a point not to read business books whenever I can. Sure, there are a few that are definitely worth your while — I’ve written about a handful here — and you can learn a lot from them. But you also need to diversify, and read about topics outside your particular career niche.

I’ve always been a fan of living vicariously through good fiction, and I love a good book on philosophy or ethics. And then there are the books that straddle the line — marketed toward careerist types, but relevant far beyond the confines of the cubicle.

Recently I came across two such books: Range by David Epstein, and Late Bloomers by Rich Karlgaard. Not only did they speak to my own experience, concerns, and neuroses — I found them extremely relevant to product design as a profession. I’ll explain why.

A Destination for Generalists

To become a product designer is to have launched into a field that doesn’t come with an academic prerequisite. Way back, a degree from a prestigious design school could get you onto the path to becoming a creative director; in product design there is no such requirement. In fact, many product designers entering the field come from backgrounds that have no connection to design at all.

I’ve known just as many colleagues with English and Psychology degrees as those who attended design schools. I’d go as far as to say UX and product designers benefit greatly from a variety of academic and professional experiences.

Why? Because we’re talking about a field that has evolved as a perfect destination for generalists — the type David Epstein describes in Range — sitting at the intersection of a variety of disciplines. Society still obviously depends on the hyper-specialised to get things done right (nobody asked for the generalist surgeon). But there’s real merit in the synthesis of disparate expertise to solve problems in novel ways. A definite asset in knowledge work.

The strongest product designers I’ve known have arrived at their destination through seemingly haphazard zigs and zags — melding disparate interests like technology, philosophy, and business into something… useful.

— On the wandering path

My own career path may look linear on paper (graphic design to front-end development to UX), but the confluence of those professional experiences with a love of writing and psychology is what eventually landed me in a dream career. Funny how that happens.

The Patience of Arriving Late

There’s a dark side to being a generalist, though — it takes longer to find your destination.

For the lucky few who absolutely know they want to be a paediatrician from 9th grade, there are folks like me who drift aimlessly for years until they suddenly land ashore into what appears to be a career. This is the topic Rich Karlgaard tackles in Late Bloomers: a perspective I find to be a breath of fresh air in a society that seems to value the wunderkinds above all else.

For every 21-year-old success story there’s a 36-year-old who has no idea what the hell they’re doing. Karlgaard’s argument is that this is OK — even preferable. To believe we need to have it all figured out before 25 is not only unrealistic for 95% of society, it’s potentially destructive. (See: F. Scott Fitzgerald.)

Still Blooming

Product designers — those wise generalists — are also prone to blooming later in life. I’m a case in point. Hell, I’m still blooming. And I’m OK with that.

The winding, diverse path that makes a seasoned designer isn’t accomplished within a year or two. It takes years of trial and error, of reflection, of self-doubt and failed experiments.

So, all this to say: if you’re thinking of starting a product design career and you have a few years of other experiences behind your belt — it’s not a liability. If anything, it may make you a stronger designer than you thought possible.