I find myself staring at the endless parade of innovative products and new releases, and a little voice in my head screams, “This is all just bullshit.” Super positive I know. I honestly consider myself an optimistic person, but as one gets older – not only is your optimism challenged, it’s punished. Still, we fight the good fight – believing corporate American will do the right th… hah sorry, couldn’t bring myself to finish that one.

Humans are masters of creation. We conjure up these incredible things, these marvels of engineering and aesthetics. Flight, space travel, computers, synthetics, medicines, the list goes on. But what about the latest iPhone with its slightly tweaked camera and a new shade of space gray or the car with the bolder grill and the “eco-friendly” (until the next model year) engine. Or even digital design trends themselves – remember skeuomorphism? Flat design? The brutalist phase? Glassmorphism? Or the current champion – grids of rounded cards “the bento box”. These have all had their moment in the sun, only to be place on the digital back shelf, the design equivalent of that dusty book you were certainly going to finish soon.

And what happens to all this stuff? We all know. The old phones end up in landfills, leaching god-knows-what into the earth. The once-coveted gadgets become e-waste, a monument to our insatiable desire for the new. It feels like we’re constantly chasing our tails, designing and consuming with an expiration date stamped on everything. It’s like we’re intentionally building things destined for obsolescence, fueled by our own fickle desires and share holder happiness.

The human brain cuts corners, it looks for the easier path, it craves comfort. That comfortable rut becomes a dangerous breeding ground for stagnation, throttling down innovation and creativity. Why push the boundaries when the current iteration is “good enough”? Why demand something truly revolutionary when the slightly shinier version of what we already have will do? Risk management. 

This cycle can make the whole endeavor of design feel utterly pointless. We pour our energy, our creativity, our very souls into crafting these objects and experiences, only to see them become landfill fodder or digital relics. It’s like Sisyphus endlessly pushing that boulder uphill, except our boulder is a slightly thinner laptop and the summit is next year’s model. Aaand back down goes the boulder. 

Listen, I understand product cycles, and that technological advances, even small ones, can change the way we interact with products or allow for new features – leading to new experiences that need to be designed and thought out. And that these massive companies employ tens of thousands of employees – all of which are paid to keep the wheels spinning. So there’s a reason, a design if you will, behind the decision making, the product releases, the marketing, the Keynotes, the song and dance. 

My point is this – The problem isn’t the act of creation itself; it’s the intentionality behind it. When design is driven by turnover, by the relentless pursuit of the next quarterly earnings report, then yes, it can feel like a wasteful charade.

But when design strives for longevity, for genuine problem-solving, for beauty that transcends trends, for sustainability that respects our planet – that’s when the magic happens. That’s when design isn’t just about aesthetics; it’s about impact. It’s about creating things that last, that serve a purpose beyond the immediate gratification of a new purchase.

So, how do we break free from this cycle of designed obsolescence? How do we, as creators and consumers, demand more? It starts with a shift in mindset. We need to move beyond the allure of the “new” and focus on the value of the “lasting.” We need to challenge ourselves to create and appreciate designs that are not just visually appealing but also thoughtfully engineered, ethically produced, and built to endure.

It won’t be easy. It requires us to fight against our own ingrained laziness, to push beyond the comfortable and demand more from the products and experiences that shape our lives. It means holding companies accountable for the waste they generate and celebrating those who prioritize sustainability and longevity over fleeting trends.

We are indeed navigating a complex digital landscape, a swirling vortex of web iterations and promises of decentralization. But even in this ever-evolving realm, we must aim to create something meaningful.

So, yes, maybe the relentless churn of disposable design can feel like bullshit sometimes. But the potential of design, the power to create things of lasting beauty and utility? That, my friends, is anything but.