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On the Value of Constraints
design, processes & methodologies
July 26, 2003, 11:33 PM
Over the course of this summer session, I've been working on a variety of projects, many of which involve skills I haven't yet developed and concepts I haven't yet fully grasped. During the course of all this, I've experienced a semiprofound revelation.
Despite what you might think, in the majority of cases constraints are a Good Thing™.
By constraints, I mean limitations on our actions, the finite quantities of resources we're given to solve problems, frameworks we are required to work within, etc. A common example is the time constraint; I often complain that I don't have enough time to properly complete an assignment or code, up some software component. I've generally conceived of such things as necessary evils that we must, sadly, deal with and take into account if we wish to get things done. In a perfect world, however, there would be no constraints. We'd have all the time in the world, all the people we need, all the raw materials we could wish for, to come up with the perfect solution.
I've changed my mind, for several reasons. In Communication Design Fundamentals, we've been given a number of different design problems, generally fairly open but with some constraints attached. For example, in the first week we developed a poster for a series of talks and used various typographic attributes (line spacing, stroke weight, etc.) to communicate the hierarchy of information. At first, we were limited to a single typographic "variable", later assignments opened it up to two or three. We quickly found that this freedom made things more difficult (although we certainly came up with better designs with two variables rather than one). Likewise, during Dan's week we started off arranging our quote using only positioning, then we got to play with stroke weights and size variation and whatnot, and sure enough it got harder (and some of the designs started to look "overdone"). Dan told us that in this class he was imposing the constraints on us, but in our work we would have to decide what constraints to impose on ourselves. An interesting proposition. I wonder if the qualities that make a designer (or an artist) great aren't so much "wild creativity" but a form of intelligently constrained creativity that knows where to direct its energy for maximum effectiveness.
This meme even gets reflected in the class itself; I've come to feel that I enjoy the course as much as I do because each professor has been forced to boil down their topic into something that can be taught in fifteen hours. This has lead to a nice mix of hands-on practice, minimal instruction, and a wide (but not stretched) view of the topic area. Great for an introductory course.
Likewise, I've been mucking around with Perl quite a bit lately, a language that is highly unconstrained and suffers as a result. There may be More Than One Way To Do It, but this intimidates novices and makes Perl code notoriously hard to read. As does everything, Perl has its advantages as well as its disadvantages, but a few more constraints may have resulted in a much cleaner design.
In the end, constraints help get things done. To return to the ever-present time constraint: if I was given the infinite time I desired, its likely I'd never finish anything (which happens all too often with personal projects for which I set no goals). In academia, a sector I've become all to familiar with recently, there are often few time constraints for day to day work. Many of the academics I know tend to wander aimlessly or squabble over relatively unimportant details. As a result, high-quality outcomes don't often come from university labs.
Another form of constraint comes in setting goals. In a way, goals are the self-imposed constraints Dan was talking about. Matt argues that every project needs to have a clear set of goals to guide it, otherwise no one will accomplish anything meaningful. Unless you commit to accomplishing measurable objectives within a given time frame, you'll wander aimlessly, wasting your money and your time.
Posted by Dan on July 27, 2003 at 11:35 PM
I would argue that the quality that makes a designer great is being able to work within a defined set of constraints (material, medium, space, client, etc.). The quality that makes an artist great is the ability to not be constrained, to harness more "raw creativity." Art, after all, only has to obey itself/the artist to be successful. Design has to work/communicate/function to be successful.
Now we can digress into discussions on What is Art? and What is Design? and What is Success?...
Posted by Rob on July 31, 2003 at 02:12 PM
Before I make that digression, I'd actually argue that art, too, does follow certain constraints. Granted, these constraints are generally self-imposed by the artist, but they are real nonetheless. This is why we have "movements" in art; certain groups of artists, generally aggregated in time and/or space, have agreed to all follow the same constraints, which is why their art all follows a common style (of course they don't officially "agree" to anything, the agreement is through teaching, bandwagon effects, idea borrowing, and other subtle social pressures).
Of course, some of the greatest artists are the ones that defied these norms, but I'd still argue all artists work within frameworks to some degree or another. I like the way Craig talks about these frameworks as "points of departure" rather than "constraints". I think we're referring to the same things, but his language puts a more positive spin on them which I believe is more accurate. Constraints/Points of departure often help _foster_ creativity, not inhibit it.
Posted by Dan on July 31, 2003 at 05:03 PM
The sonnet is the classic example of this. Self-imposed constraints that can increase/highlight creativity (see Shakespeare). But the difference is that, in design, the message and the constraints aren't typically the creator's. Picasso might choose to have a blue period, but a product designer who only works in shades of blue will likely find his ass handed to him by the client. Or an interaction designer who refuses to use a radio button.
I think most artists latch on to certain "constraints" (some might call them themes) not because it sparks their creativity, but rather because it is the best way they can find to express what they want.