A love letter about change
Things have been feeling differently for a while. That UX buzz, that peak we hit in the late 2010s, has faded. Historically, designers have always aimed to exert vast influence within their organizations, guiding the creative vision and making critical decisions that shape the product. That reality simply doesn’t feel palpable anymore when you look at the state of UX more broadly. UX is increasingly a byproduct of business objectives, not the driving force.
The Great Design Handoff
What we have started to witness this year is a fundamental shift in responsibilities and a transfer of design control from designers to a complex network of algorithms, automated tools, and business stakeholders.
We’re handing our designs to Figma while it trains its AI. It’s right there in the fine print you accepted when they launched their new AI features this year, because you also accepted Figma as the most convenient tool there is. Some say these AI design tools will put us out of a job; others say they’ll just make us faster. Trying to pick one single lane is lazy thinking. Arguing that AI will only replace the mechanical part of our job is shortsighted. [1][2][3][4][5][6] Very soon, AI-powered tools like Figma, Vercel, Canva (and many others) will change everyone’s perception of who is equipped to design, how long design takes, and—inevitably—how much design is worth paying for. [7][8][9][10][11][12][13]
We’re handing our design systems to growth teams so they can squeeze every last penny out of customers. We’re optimizing our flows for clicks, not clarity. We stopped building tools and started building engagement traps. [14][15][16][17] While in the past UX had a certain aura of care for users, in 2024 we are bluntly following the numbers. In many companies, the pursuit of growth is overshadowing the pursuit of meaning. [18][19][20][21][22]
We’re trading empathy for algorithms. Personalization has gotten so complex that it’s now out of human control, and can lead to echo chambers, warped perspectives, and consequences we’re unable to predict. We’re slowly swapping user research for automated A/B tests, and gradually letting the data make decisions on our behalf. [23][24][25] We could be choosing to create software that is local-first, more private, and more thoughtful. Still, we’re choosing to build for the machine—not for each other. [26]
We’re shipping new products before they’re even ready. Look at the AI hardware fiasco in 2024, or at all the half-baked AI features in our enterprise products—broken promises everywhere. Products don’t have to be ready for prime time because, over the last decade, we convinced ourselves we got to “fail fast,” “test and learn,” and “lean-UX” our way out of tight timelines. Which is a cynical subversion of all the foundational UX principles we claim to adhere to. [27][28][29][30][31]
We’re shifting our focus from good design to organizational politics. Increasingly, designers spend most of their day (and energy) in meetings talking about everything other than design, getting “stakeholder alignment”, and “balancing out user and business needs.” Products are launched because someone needs a promotion. Timelines are built around someone’s performance review or company reports. [32] [33] [34] [35] [36] This year, layoffs felt like a constant threat, and in many ways, the focus shifted from doing great work to just holding onto our jobs. [37] [38] [39] [40] [41] [42]
We’re dumping half-baked thoughts on Linkedin, hoping for the recognition we don’t get at work. This year, the lack of job security also made designers double down on our “online presence”, in an attempt to remain relevant within their network. We’re writing catchy Linkedin posts to please the algorithm; we’re making our thoughts more polarizing than they need to be. There’s no place for longer-form discussions or nuanced back and forth. We’re building echo chambers, not communities. It’s easier to build an audience using controversy than real thought. [43][44][45]
We’re giving up on the dream of community-wide events, and we’re letting companies dictate the design agenda. While smaller events continue strong even post-COVID, we clearly haven’t found a sustainable model for design conferences at scale. IxDA couldn’t compete with the big budgets behind Figma’s Config and Adobe Max. Which means those few companies get to decide who talks about what in today’s largest design arenas. [46] [47]
We’re teaching our brand voice to LLMs so they can communicate with our customers without our oversight. We’re choosing not to hire a photographer and to use AI-generated imagery instead. We’re choosing not to hire a voice actor, not to hire an illustrator artist.
“Just this one time because the budget is short.”
“Just to try it out.”
“Just because our competitor is doing it.”
You get the point.
On their own, these shifts might fly under the radar. But zoom out, look at the whole year, and the patterns start to emerge—giving us a glimpse of where Design is headed. These subtle changes have been impacting everything: our daily routines, what we produce, the tools we use, our career paths, and even our communities more broadly.
So, as designers,
how might we embrace change?
Read the full article here:
The State of UX in 2025: a love letter about change →
This article was originally published on UX Collective and written by Fabricio Teixeira and Caio Braga.