When you have access to design education, this allows the possibility that design could be an occupation. Doing design work in Rwanda has reminded me that many would love the chance to be a designer but it hasn’t necessarily been available in the educational system. This would radically shift the activity of and activity by quotient and is the reason why I think the 1% have continued to have the most access and influence.

But to see how the 1% might bring design to the other 99% is an interesting mid-point in this spectrum. I can think of a variety of organizations that are shifting this:
http://http://catapultdesign.org, http://www.projecthdesign.org, http://www.d-rev.org, http://ideo.org, http://architectureforhumanity.org and others are focusing their work on “design for” the other 99%.
Side Bar: My own work in Rwanda has focused on how to design with, rather than for: http://cargocollective.com/karapecknold

What we tend not to hear as much about the activities of and by those outside of the 1%. But I believe it exists! An example of this would be Maker Faire Africa where inventors and innovators are focusing their attention on designs that have impact in the context they are located: http://makerfaireafrica.com

While some of these activities are not as present as the 1% stories we hear more frequently, I sense we are in a time where this has the potential to shift. One area of growth would be the emergence of educational opportunities to open up the design activities “of and by” the 99%. It is exciting to see SVA taking this forward in some capacity: http://dsi.sva.edu/africa

Short answer: no.

Long answer: I’d be hard pressed to say designers even belong to the high net worth category (US$1 million in financial assets). Most designers I know struggle to make mortgage payments or to pay rent. Whether twenty-, thirty- or fortysomething designers, and whether from Holland, England or the United States. Even Canada. So this is a fairly Western-oriented observation.

Designers may patron Champagne bars and VIP lounges during furniture fairs, but they cannot afford Armand de Brignac. For example, designers I know who graduated in the last decade from the Design Academy Eindhoven, Sandberg Institute Amsterdam or OCAD University in Toronto are still busy refurbishing curb-side waste and hunting for bargains at second-hand shops. They even shop at discount retailers like Ikea.

Designers may be attracted by the optimistic promise of success via explore at Design Miami/Art Basel or Salone Internazionale del Mobile in Milan; and expose they do. But in reality, even masthead-featuring and award-winning designs rarely go into production. There are anomalies, of course, which we hear about in the design press. But most designers rarely see the kind of advances or royalties known by designers from yesteryears.

Well worth reads for those interested in today’s design economy:

Justin McGuirk wrote a fantastic piece about Milan’s PR economy: “Designs for life won’t make you a living” for The Guardian: http://www.guardian.co.uk/artanddesign/2011/apr/18/designs-milan-furniture-fair

And, Rick Poynor wrote an interesting piece about the PR nature of the design press: “Designers Need Critics” for Frame magazine: http://www.frameweb.com/news/designers-need-critics-part-one-

We simply no longer live in a post-WWII West with a rising middle class ready to dive into “good modern design.” Rather, we see Western production down. We also see royalty-based and PR-related design incomes fading fast. For better or worse, the result is a field wide open to both strong criticism and new alternatives.

I was happy to see Matthew (Carbone) introduce Bierut’s characterization of clients as the distinction between art and design. In the perennial discussion of whether or not design is art, my response has long been that it is not, and that the difference between the two can be located in the presence (or absence) of a brief.

Further along in the discussion, Caprice Hamlin-Krout asks about the role of clients in chance operations, which reminded me of something Daniel Kahneman wrote in Thinking, Fast and Slow. Uncertainty, he said (I’m paraphrasing, from memory), can be paralyzing; guessing is unacceptable when the stakes are high. With clients, the stakes are always high.

Zipping back to Carbone for a second, I would echo his view that Cage didn’t really give up making choices; rather, he made the choice to make a different kind of choice. The only way I can imagine this sort of “non-choosing choice” work within a relationship with clients is if, as Hamlin-Krout suggests, they embrace this way of working equally and are in on it from the outset. In this sort of scenario, both designer and client would agree from the beginning to cede control.

But, now that I think of it, isn’t that what happens anyway? The answer depends, I suppose, on one’s definition of design. If one views design (as I do) as a service profession, then humility and chance are built into the process. Client services are a ceaseless negotiation of “control.” Who really has control in a design project, after all? The client has money, which is one form of control. The designer, presumably, has knowledge and experience (another form of control). Neither client nor designer has complete control, and what ultimately ships is in a sense a souvenir of the conversation between the two. The design represents an agreement.

The way I see it, design is humility. And clients are the chance.

Several commenters mentioned something about “removing the ego,” or a lack of ego or dissociation of the self from the creative process. I went back to the opening statement to see if I had suggested this in my choice of words, and unfortunately there is a hint of that in “Cage’s removal of judgement from his decision-making…” Just to clarify: the ego cannot be removed from any process, creative or otherwise. It’s central to the self and mediates between all aspects of the psyche and the external world. In fact, my own interest lies in what’s possible when the ego is very much present — strong, resilient and healthy — and flexible enough to allow decision-making to flow in from the external world (nature, chance operations, etc.). Instead of imposing judgement or personal taste from within, creativity might open up to something new — wider, larger views of beauty.

Thanks to the Philip Johnson Glass House folks for celebrating John Cage’s 100th with this provocative discussion, and for allowing me to host. I remain fascinated by Cage’s way of working. We’re still learning. I tried to explore this and my own definition of “design humility” in a forthcoming article, to be published this spring in the third issue of The Manual (http://alwaysreadthemanual.com/). Please look for it and let’s continue the discussion!

Yes, I think design humility is not only possible, but in the field of interaction design, it’s required. In order to design experiences for others, the designer has to set aside his or her perceptions, mental models, stereotypes – and yes, ego – in order to create truly human-centered designs. In terms of Cage’s “chance operations”, I think that every time a product team releases a prototype or beta version, they are engaging in chance operations that are the unpredictable behaviors of users.

Generally speaking, inflated egos, I think, are really a sign of closeted humility. Or shall we say, insecurity. How much more successful is a person – designer or otherwise – who can be respected and esteemed by his or her peers, lauded and publicly praised, and still be down-to-earth, approachable, and humble, as opposed to one equally successful by objective measures but arrogant, brash, and elitist?

This is a very thought-provoking question that touches on so many things and is subject to so many interpretations. I love that you posed it.