Does Great Design Have to Be Confusing?
A graduating design student asks what many professionals quietly wonder- if award-winning work leaves audiences puzzled, is that a sign of genius, or a conversation the industry needs to have?
By A Design Student on the Verge of Graduation - June 2026 - 8 min read
There is a particular feeling that many design students know well - standing in front of an award-winning poster, a celebrated graduation project, or a widely shared piece of conceptual work, and feeling absolutely nothing click. Not because you aren't paying attention, but because no matter how long you look, the meaning simply does not arrive.For a long time, I assumed this was my problem. I told myself I hadn't studied enough, hadn't developed the eye, hadn't earned the insight yet. Now, nearing the end of a degree in art and design, I'm not so sure the fault was ever entirely mine.
"If a piece of work requires insider knowledge to be appreciated, who exactly is it designed for?"
This is not a complaint dressed up as an essay. It is, I hope, a genuine question - one that I suspect more people in the design world carry quietly than would ever admit it in a critique session or awards ceremony.
The question is simply this: when celebrated creative work is consistently difficult to understand, what does that tell us about how the industry defines excellence?
The Gap Between Appreciation and Understanding
There is an important difference between work that is complex and work that is obscure.
Complexity is earned — it rewards attention, reveals more over time, and leaves the viewer with a sense of discovery. Obscurity, by contrast, can feel like a locked room. The key exists, but it lives only in the maker's mind, or in a narrow circle of people who already share the same references.
Much of what wins at design competitions and poster festivals sits somewhere on that spectrum, and it is worth asking honestly where. Some of it is genuinely layered - work that opens up the more you engage with it. But some of it, if we are being candid, seems to reward familiarity with a particular design culture more than any universal quality of communication.
Design, at its origin, is an act of communication. Architecture speaks to a body in space. Typography speaks to a reader's eye. A poster speaks to a passerby. When the communication chain breaks down, it is always worth asking where— and when?
What Are Juries Actually Rewarding?
Competition juries are made up of experienced practitioners who share a sophisticated visual vocabulary. That is, by design, the point — you want informed judges. But it also means that work which speaks fluently in the language of contemporary design culture will always have an advantage over work that might communicate more powerfully with a broader audience. This is not a scandal. It is simply a dynamic worth naming.
The question for any aspiring designer is: are you learning to make things that resonate with people, or are you learning to make things that resonate with juries? Both are valid skills. They are not always the same skill.
Questions Worth Asking the Industry
Rather than answers (I don't have), here are some of the questions that feel worth raising — gently, but honestly:
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If a piece of work requires insider knowledge to be appreciated, who exactly is it designed for?
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Is inaccessibility sometimes mistaken for intellectual depth — and if so, how would we know the difference?
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Do design competitions adequately reward work that communicates to people outside the design community?
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How much of what is called "conceptual" design is genuinely exploring new ideas, and how much is following the aesthetic language of what has won before?
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Could the industry benefit from awards categories that specifically recognise clarity, accessibility, and broad communication?
None of these questions are hostile to the idea of conceptual or experimental design.
Pushing at the edges of a medium is how the medium grows. But a healthy creative culture makes room for both experimentation and honest reflection - including reflection on who gets to decide what counts as good.
What This Means for Those Just Starting Out
If you are a student who has stood in front of celebrated work and felt nothing — please know that this experience does not disqualify you. It may, in fact, make you a more thoughtful practitioner.
"The ability to notice when communication has failed — even in celebrated work — is itself a design skill."
The goal is not to dismiss ambitious or difficult work. It is to hold two ideas at once: that creativity deserves to take risks, and that design, at its best, creates a genuine connection between maker and audience. When that connection is missing, it is always worth asking why — no matter whose name is on the award.
Perhaps the most honest thing a design education can give you is not a taste perfectly aligned with the current moment, but the confidence to ask questions like these — and the vocabulary to ask them well. That is not disrespect for the field. It is, in the truest sense, how a field stays alive.
