Back in Design for Publishing (oh, how far away two months ago feels) I had a conversation with a peer around scrapping work. They were hesitant to go away from an idea, despite the fact that multiple peers (and our tutor) hinted that a new direction might serve the idea better. My weigh in was (and is) this: it can feel insanely difficult to let go of an idea you’ve worked on, because you’ve worked on it. You put time into to. This definitely applies to more than just ideas: ever think of a relationship, diet, or job you’ve stuck with just because you’ve put time into it? We feel that once we’ve invested time, we can’t turn elsewhere, pick up something new, or go in a different direction because it invalidates the effort we put forth in the pursuit. It signals to us that we were wrong; yet, often we weren’t wrong, but new circumstances, context or information arose that made us consider otherwise.
People generally have a fear of starting new. To be fair, it is pretty scary. You wonder if you’re good enough for what you’re doing in the first place. You think that maybe if you just put a little more work, effort or time into something it could morph and become exactly the right fit. You’ve invested in something. This might all sound a bit exaggerated, but harken back to a time where you had to shift and think about the gut reactions and emotions it brought up.
Chatting with my peer, it was far easier for me to dispense advice than it is for them to take it. They have a lot more mental hoops to jump through if they decide to go a new direction; I’m just there blabbing based on what I have noticed in the past for me and that seems applicable for them. So, fast forward to coffee yesterday with a previous team member (from Sync the City). I started explaining my current project 4, a dating app based on sustainability. His exact words, when I brought up explaining my project, were: “Sell me the idea. Sell me the app.” I ran through a pitch of what the app was, how it was unique, and the problems it addressed. Lucky for me, he was impressed. But what he said in response threw me off a bit: “I think that is really fascinating. I haven’t heard of something like it, but it makes sense. I just think that the dating app isn’t the correct framework for it.”
The dating app not the correct framework?! That was the basis of the project! Now of course, I can take what he said with a grain of salt and go forward. But something about that comment burrowed in my brain. What was another framework that would fit what I’m trying to achieve? What am I trying to achieve?
I left the coffee not thinking much more about it – our conversation had drifted elsewhere to winter plans, upcoming events and everything not project related. I had a user interview that evening to further investigate sustainability and dating. This particular person had dating apps in the past, but was particularly wary of the safety questions they pose: how do I know the person I’m connecting with is authentic?
Fast forward to my yoga practice this morning, and the thought returns: what am I trying to achieve? Thoughts around my project popped up; I realised that from the beginning, when I had other ideas of environmental intersectionality, legislative action, or blurring out businesses that supported deforestation, all of them had something in common: action from a community perspective. One lone call to the legislative body isn’t enough; it has to be a part of a larger movement. Environmental intersectionality is literally about the intermingling of various justice communities aimed at crafting a better earth/environment/place for marginalised communities. Blurring out businesses helped support communities affected by deforestation and the larger eco-system by hitting a large company in the wallet.
But what about my dating app? Isn’t that addressing community and sustainability? Giving it another thought, I recognise that the dating aspect is more individualistic. I could go into depth here analysing why it might not be the right fit, like my friend had posed at coffee. But something I lean into is following where intuition leads (then backing it up with researching, refine and repeating, no worries! We are in UX here!).
What I needed to do was take a step back and ask if I was creating the right solution for the problem I am addressing. What I also needed to do was take myself out of the picture: I’m not here to make an app that I find fun and flirty. What I’m here to do is find a problem and match it with the best solution. It takes a lot of ego removal from the process to admit that your first idea might not be the best suited. It also takes courage to go in that new direction. I was harkened back to my advice giving to my former peer and now gave the same advice to myself.
One bit of my project that stuck out was the deed feed: it brought community together, showcasing sustainable activities, and connecting people with others who were completing deeds they found compelling. That’s the pivot. Away from dating, back to community. An app that focuses on bringing likeminded sustainable people together: a place to share deeds you have done (insert social validation here), organize events, communicate within a working sustainability group or connect with new people/groups to form something new. Why not?
Now that’s what I call growth: learning to let go of an idea when it no longer rightly serves what you’re going for. Being open to shifting paths, be it big or small. Taking your own advice.
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