A confession
Early in my career, I optimized for cleverness. Elegant micro-interactions. Novel navigation paradigms. Interfaces that made other designers say "that is really nice." I wanted my work to feel inventive.
I was wrong about what mattered.
The shift
The shift happened gradually, then all at once. Working in defense accelerated it, but the seed was planted earlier -- every time I watched a user struggle with something I thought was elegant. Every time a "creative" solution required an explanation. Every time cleverness created ambiguity.
Now, my design principle is brutally simple: if it is not immediately clear, it is wrong.
Not wrong as in ugly. Not wrong as in boring. Wrong as in failing at the fundamental job of an interface, which is to make the invisible visible and the complex actionable.
What clarity actually requires
Clarity is harder than cleverness. Cleverness is a spark of individual ingenuity. Clarity is the sustained, disciplined work of removing everything that obscures meaning.
It requires:
- Ruthless editing. Not what can we add, but what can we remove without losing function or meaning?
- Precise language. Every label, every heading, every piece of microcopy must say exactly what it means. No jargon that flatters the writer. No ambiguity that forces interpretation.
- Honest hierarchy. The most important thing must look like the most important thing. Not everything can be primary.
- Consistent patterns. When similar things look and behave the same way, users build reliable mental models. When they do not, users hesitate.
Cleverness asks "isn't this interesting?" Clarity asks "can you use this without thinking?"
The cleverness trap in AI products
AI products are especially vulnerable to the cleverness trap. The technology itself is novel, which tempts designers to create novel interfaces. Animated confidence gauges. Dynamic visualizations that morph in real time. Chat-based interactions for every possible task.
Sometimes these are appropriate. Often they are designers being seduced by the technology rather than serving the user. A static, well-organized table with clear labels will outperform a dynamic visualization that requires interpretation every time it is viewed.
What I tell my team
I tell my designers: if you have to present your design with a walkthrough, it has not arrived yet. The design should speak for itself. The layout should guide the eye. The copy should answer questions before they arise. The interaction should feel inevitable, not inventive.
This is not a call for boring design. Clarity can be beautiful. Restraint can be elegant. And an interface that works the first time someone touches it is the most impressive design achievement there is.
Choose clarity. Every time. Without exception.