If I Only Had a Heart

There is a common theme in my conversations with designers in the past few years, and it has to do with a seemingly cavernous gulf between passion and profession. Most professional designers seem resigned to earning a living doing one kind of work, while spending the rest of the time wishing they could follow their passions to do an entirely different kind of work. The interesting thing is that most designers feel that 'passion' and 'profession' are mutually exclusive. Following one's heart does not lead to making a decent wage, while making a good living seems to exclude doing something meaningful and fulfilling. Why?

Well, the first answer could be that these designers simply have frivolous passions - ones that are not at all valuable to society at large. Say like sitting on the couch watching TV all day. But, fortunately, I have never heard this listed as a designer's 'passion.' So let's set this potential answer aside.

The next could be that they are not very skilled at what they do, and have to settle for a less than desirable job. But the interesting thing is that I tend to hear this passion/profession-split voiced by some of the more talented designers I know. They certainly exhibit some degree of 'passion' in their jobs - a desire to do they best they can within the limitations placed on them with a good work ethic. And in general, they do better at their jobs than many people.

Perhaps the next logical answer is that this split is forced onto them by their employers. "The man" keeps them down - only pursuing the almighty dollar, never letting purpose, beauty or significance get in the way of the profits. I think this is the answer many designers give. I know I think or feel it at times - and my clients are the only boss I have. But is it really true?

I think it is probably partly true. Feeding a family does take precedence over worrying about a higher calling or purpose. But most of my clients are not so averse to the idea as might be expected. Most people have to grapple with purpose, meaning and passion in realtion to their daily 'duties.' It is not a completely foreign concept, it simply can be more difficult to apply.

So what is the problem? What causes this dualism? It seems strangely similar to the age old battle between rationalism and romaticism, sacred and the secular. And this is what I would propose it actually is.

In the history of philosophical thought, western culture has made a distinct move toward valuing the scientific method above and beyond all else. What can be observed, measured and recorded is what we 'know' as fact. All else is speculation or 'personal value.'

This view has permeated all aspects of our culture, and, I would argue, has carried into our views of vocation and work. Time, money and efficiency are measurable qualities. Purpose, meaning and passion are not. So what gets valued and rewarded in our society? Observable results: deadlines, profits, losses, etc.

The trouble is that each one of us knows that things like purpose, meaning, love and hope do exist - in spite of the fact science can't prove their existence (it can only observe their effects). And so we spend most of our time focusing on the observable, measurable material aspects of life, wondering how and when we can incorporate the seemingly more intagible, spiritual qualities. They tend to get set aside till we 'have time' to consider them.

I would argue that a dramatic shift needs to occur in the way we think about our professions and passions. We need to take more time to consider spiritual ramifications in everything we do. I suspect we also need to devalue the seemingly inconquerable demands of deadlines, profitability, and statistics.

This sounds all fine a good, but is more easily said than done. I too am in constant conflict with my passion and my profession. Any thoughts?

Paul Rustand, Widgets & Stone