Tell me a story

I once saw a video that made a good point of the difference between our modern understanding of God and the understanding of the ancient Hebrews. To the modern mind, God is perceived in bullet-point terms: God is almighty, or God is omnipotent. But to the Hebrews, God was a rock, or God was my shepherd, or God was living water. The difference is not small.

The modern mind thinks in terms of data: “The storm was third wettest in 2017.” But the ancient mind thought in terms of story: “I will send you rain in its season.”

Larry King once asked Ed Bradley if he could explain the longevity of CBS’ 60 Minutes, the most successful program in television history. Mr. Bradley replied that it was because founder Don Hewitt’s guiding directive had been, “Tell me a story.” So storytelling (Once upon a time . . .), not reporting (Heat wave claims six), is what 60 Minutes has always done.

One gets the impression watching the news that data is what matters (Rogers’ QB rating is 102). But story is how human beings actually experience life.

What is a story? It’s a life lived. Story is about risk and hope and fear and struggle and love and loss. It’s about heart and soul and the real reasons behind things.

What’s all this have to do with design?

Everything.

As a designer, what are you doing on your screen or sheet of paper? Why are you involved? What’s your role?

You may say that you want your page/product/idea to “look good.” And, of course, looking good is preferable to looking bad. But what do you actually mean?

What you should mean is that there’s a story to be told, and that your part is its visual expression. “Looking good” says blue and green go well together. The story is in what blue and green together say.

The image atop this page: The hands are familiar enough, and it looks good, but what’s happening? No clues are given. To leave the question unanswered is to begin a story.*

Think about this. That typeface you’re using — why that one? Its form might be ratty, prim, plain, ravishing; each in context could be correct and beautiful — or not. White space can be a pause, a break in time. It can also organize, separating this from that. White can convey purity, silence, mourning, depending on context. So it is with every design element.

It’s easy for us designers to fall in love with things that look good. It’s easy to make that mistake. Everyone else (client, audience, everyone) is waiting for, looking for, the story.

What is your design saying?”

(By the way, if you have to explain it — “This line conveys the upward thrust of success!” — it’s not.)

Talk to me.

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*What do you see in the hands? If you’re feeling imaginative, try composing a Twitter-length story (not an explanation) and post it below.