The First Print Always Fails

Twenty years ago, when I began my journey in design, the physical world reigned supreme. Print was the craft. Materials mattered. A matte finish, the weight of paper or the depth of a letterpressed 3-ply cardstock.

Today, those tactile experiences haven’t disappeared if anything, they’ve evolved. They now live inside screens, devices, interfaces and more recently in 3D printed appliances. Design still plays the same role if anything it’s more experiential and important in the process of creating.

I started in an era where mastering print was the benchmark. Many of my early mentors built their careers before computers became central to the process. Even in college, classes like black-and-white photography were grounded in the fundamentals of making without relying on digital tools. In the 2010s, like many designers, my focus shifted to digital. Responsive design became the standard. Digital products and interfaces became the primary canvas. I went back to formally study UX/UI where I learned to understand product design was about systems, behavior, and decision-making.

Product design introduced a new layer: data. For the first time, I could validate creative decisions, not just feel them. It provided a source of confidence while presenting design and opened doors across industries. Design became less about a single medium and more about solving problems in any context and using data to back the chosen direction.

Something that has been constant and also evolving in the world of design is printing. While the process of printing is not something that I consider to be a passion of mine, it somehow has been a common thread in my career. I somehow had a knack for troubleshooting and figuring out printers  (I contribute this to my father who worked in IT for decades).

Like many folks during covid I found myself picking up a new hobby to occupy my time in isolation - 3D design. I spent hours in blender and this ultimately led to 3D printing. I even landed a job at a company that built 3D printers and had the opportunity to utilize all my knowledge of 2D printing and apply it to a more complex, evolving system.

Because while 2D and 3D outputs are fundamentally different, the process behind them is surprisingly similar. Both require managing expectations. Both involve a series of decisions before hitting “print.” Regardless of 2D/3D or letterpress or the Gutenberg there’s a series of settings, options, and choices to make before committing overpriced materials to the printing gods and praying for the desired outcome. And both come with the same reality: The first version will probably fail. Maybe the first six.

And that’s where product design thinking becomes critical. A huge part of the designer’s role is reducing friction in that process—helping users navigate complexity without feeling overwhelmed. Techniques like progressive disclosure aren’t just interface patterns; they’re confidence-building tools. They help users feel capable.

Progressive Disclosure: a user interface design pattern that keeps applications clean and user-friendly by displaying only essential information initially, while hiding advanced or infrequent features until needed.

Because here’s the truth: User frustration is universal. No matter how advanced the technology becomes, whether it’s letterpress, Photoshop, or AI, there is always a learning curve. Are you even a creative if you haven’t found yourself battling the tech you use?

What hasn’t changed over the last 20 years isn’t the medium—it’s the responsibility. Design is still about navigating constraints, making decisions, and guiding people through complexity. Even with AI, that doesn’t go away. If anything, it becomes more important. Because no matter how powerful the tools get, they still rely on human judgment to shape them into something meaningful.