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Embracing Emotional & Intuitive Design in the Age of AI




We live in an extraordinary time as designers, where technology is rapidly transforming our creative process. AI and other advanced tools are helping us generate ideas faster, refine them with precision, and bring efficiency to our work that we could only dream of a few years ago. But as we embrace these advancements, I find myself asking, are we losing touch with what makes design truly humanitarian and timeless?


Design has always been more than solving functional problems. For me, it’s about creating objects that tell a story—objects that resonate on an emotional level, that connect with people in ways that go beyond convenience or utility. We remember products not just for what they do but for how they make us feel. Think about that old watch your grandfather passed down or the chair that feels like it belongs in your home. These objects hold meaning because they have character. They’re more than just things—they’re experiences.

In this sense, I’ve always been inspired by the Japanese philosophy of embracing imperfection, known as Wabi-Sabi. This idea—of finding beauty in things that are unfinished or imperfect—is, I believe, central to keeping our designs human. It keeps our creations on the delicate edge between perfection and imperfection, and it’s this tension that makes them memorable, unique, and beautiful.

As designers, it’s easy to get swept up in the pursuit of perfection, especially with the power of AI to refine and optimize everything down to the smallest detail. But perfection can sometimes strip away what makes a product truly human. It’s the slight imperfections—the hand-drawn lines, the natural materials, the unexpected details—that give a product its soul. These are the elements that people connect with, that make a design feel alive.

The world today, however, is increasingly driven by efficiency. And while that’s not a bad thing, I worry that we’re leaning so heavily on data, AI, and algorithms that we’re losing the human touch. Technology can give us incredible tools, but it can’t replicate the emotional depth or aesthetic intuition that makes great design timeless. It can suggest what might work based on trends or analysis, but it can’t feel the way a person does when they encounter a beautifully designed product.

For me, the heart of design is creating connections—between people and products, between form and function, between aesthetics and meaning. It’s not just about whether something works; it’s about whether it feels right. The best designs are those that evoke an emotional response. You can’t quantify that, and you can’t rely on technology to generate it. It comes from the soul of the designer, from our ability to empathize and intuit what will resonate with someone on a deeper level.

What we’re in danger of losing is our aesthetic sensibility. A product’s functionality is important, but it’s the form, the texture, the balance of color, the way it feels in your hand that gives it soul. Timeless designs have an unspoken language—they just feel right. I’m sure you’ve experienced that moment when you look at something, and everything just clicks into place. It’s not because an algorithm told you it was the right proportion; it’s because, instinctively, it connects with you.

At the same time, we have to remember that design isn’t done in isolation. Our work reflects the world we live in—the cultures, the people, the environment. Every object we create carries with it a piece of the time and place it was born into. This is why design must remain humanitarian. It must speak to people’s lives, their emotions, their needs. AI can give us data about user preferences, but it’s our human experience that brings cultural relevance and emotional meaning into the equation.




I’m not saying we should reject AI or technology. Far from it. These tools are incredibly valuable, and they can enhance what we do in ways that make our work better. But we must be careful not to let them take over the creative process. We have to stay grounded in what makes us designers in the first place—our intuition, our empathy, and our ability to see beyond functionality to something more meaningful.

In this AI-driven world, I’ve found that staying creatively grounded requires a few key practices. First, staying curious—immersing myself in art, architecture, nature, and the world around me. These are the sources of inspiration that feed my creativity and help me maintain a strong design intuition. Second, trusting my instincts. When something doesn’t feel right, I dig deeper. AI can suggest paths, but it’s my gut that tells me which one to follow. And lastly, always designing with emotion in mind. It’s not enough for a product to work—it has to evoke something, connect on a human level, and create an experience.


In many ways, it’s about embracing imperfection—acknowledging that not everything needs to be perfectly polished to be beautiful. Sometimes, it’s the rough edges and the unfinished elements that make a product stand out, that make it feel real. This is where the philosophy of Wabi-Sabi comes in, reminding us that beauty lies not in flawlessness but in the natural, the incomplete, and the authentic.

The truth is, the future of design lies in balance. We must learn to collaborate with AI and new technologies without losing what makes design human. Let AI handle the repetitive tasks, analyze the data, and optimize processes. But let’s keep the creativity, the emotional depth, and the intuition in our hands.

At the end of the day, the designs that endure are the ones that connect with people on a deeper level—products that aren’t just useful, but meaningful. That’s what makes design truly humanitarian and timeless, and it’s up to us as designers to keep that flame alive.




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