Design in an Impact-Focused World?
I’ve been contemplating the purpose of branding and design in impact-focused, nonprofit, humanitarian, and healing spaces lately.
I’ll be honest here and say that I don’t have definitive answers, but questions, ponderings and attempts. I’m always open to others.
When I think about what I love about design, it’s not because it makes things pretty or slaps a mask on something, though I do of course appreciate the aesthetic quality. On a deeper level, though, it’s the potential to communicate an idea more succinctly, more directly, and with more emotion than you can muster with mere words.
Design greases the wheels.
When faced with the question of how this fits into spaces of healing, humanitarian efforts, political movements, and growth, the question really becomes: is spending time or investing in something like design worth it? Is it aligned?
There are layers to this question.
One of the core layers must be how we approach money. I always find it interesting that societally we idolize millionaires but are livid when a leader of a nonprofit makes a more-than-livable wage. Our views on money as a society can be odd and while obscene displays of wealth are as heinous to me as the next gal, I won’t lie: I appreciate nice things. I also believe that people doing good things in the world deserve to be taken care of: mind, body, spirit.
Someone told me recently in a conversation about money that there are many ways to be rich. I believe that to be true. It was a beautiful reminder. I also believe money has incredible power to hold. Not simply to make rich, though it can do that too, but to support and hold. In my mind, someone who spends their precious time and energy on this earth healing, supporting, and caring for other people deserves the ability to care deeply for themselves. That’s not to say there’s no space for unpaid work in these worlds, that’s also important.
My view on money is a notably different one than many and that’s simply that I view it as energy exchange. Numbers are also relative; what one person views as insane will seem totally reasonable to another. But apart from being able to place quantifiable value on the work we do, numbers give us frames of reference on the qualitative value of something.
If we perceive money as evil, it makes sense that you would want it to have nothing to do with efforts for good. If we see it through a different lens, we can accept that we live in a world that requires the exchange of funds to survive and thrive, and know that we are deserving of both. How we use the wealth matters.
Another connected layer is capitalism! Hurrrrah. We see design through the lens we look through, and the way it’s so frequently talked about it capitalistic. Which makes sense, one purpose or goal of branding is to sell. Another is to build awareness.
I recently made a little logo and some posters for a friend of mine who helps out with a protest initiative called the healing tent. As a therapist, he and others create a safe space for resting and replenishing, in the charged space of a protest. This was a gimme: I frequently can’t attend and wanted to contribute in some way and that was the way I knew how.
This Saturday, I knew he was at the protest and texted a thank you for the work they do. I was so happy to see this as part of his reply: “I had several people say they came over after seeing one of your signs :)”
The more cynical view on branding says that it’s frivolous and unnecessary. That may be true for you, it’s not for me to make a blanket statement on.
But the more nuanced, expansive view (and the one I prefer to take in my work), is that good design creates the conditions for the people who need or want what you’re putting out there to be found. It creates visibility and awareness.
We have a lot of choices to make every day, a big one being: to what do we turn our attention? Good design spotlights the right things for the right people. The thing you’re doing, efforts you’re making, goals you’re reaching for, through whatever the work is, can only be completed if the right people are able to find them.
Word of mouth is fantastic. It’s how I get 99% of my business and I’m not knocking it, nor am I saying that it’s not enough, in some scenarios.
And… design has a unique ability to create resonance. When I’m making a decision on where to place my time, energy, and money, I frequently look for resonance: “Does this feel right?” Design is subliminal but powerful. When it’s created with a sense of true, honest, authentic alignment with the cause or mission, you feel it and can make that decision more confidently.
As an extreme example, just consider how these two different designs would make you feel. Same words, same shape, same cause - different feeling.
The next layer is intricacy. Is the standard model of brand design a fit for healing or impact-focused work? This is the biggest question I have for myself as a brand designer, and the place where I’m most excited to play. I undeniably love questioning my own process. How do we go about designing for healing?
I’m certain that my first step is the same as it always is: to look at the project in front of me and ask all the questions. My standard process works most of the time, not every time. I’m not so rigid in it that I won’t break it over and over again to best serve the humans in front of me.
Words handwritten on a piece of paper can be as effective and emotive as a fully formed “brand.” There’s a pureness, an authenticity, a sweetness to how homegrown something is. Can branding have heart?
What I do know for sure is that in the world of possibilities, one of the answers to that question is a big yes and I know that through direct experience:
Organizers at a protest finding The Healing Tent through signage.
A breast cancer nonprofit proudly showing themselves for the first time in years because they finally feel confident in their brand presence.
An education nonprofit having the ability to raise the necessary funds because, to the needed corporate donors, they are credible.
A therapist being able to emote safe presence through a selection of letters and colors, before they ever speak with a client.
A yoga collective proudly launching, knowing that design will help it reach the people who are looking for community.
A queer teen in rural Kentucky stumbling upon an article that gives them hope because they felt connected to the imagery.
A somatic practitioner who doesn’t have to spend time and energy on what their communication should look like.
A civic health organization who can effectively bridge the gap between civic action and youth.
The truth is that it won’t feel aligned for every cause or every person. This post isn’t a hard sell, or a sell at all actually. It’s an invitation to ask yourself the same questions and find the answers that are right for you.
My hope is that design can be used in these spaces to create resonance, continuity, and positivity. That it can aid the cause, grease the wheels.
The idea that someone in need of relief could see a black and white sign with a tent and a heart and feel that they are going to be taken care of there, keeps me faithful.
I’d love to hear your thoughts below.
