As UX faces automation, optimization, and a fading human touch, we find ourselves at a crossroads. This is a story about what we’re losing, what we’re becoming — and how we might choose to begin again.
Once upon a time, not that long ago, UX designers were the poets of product.
They whispered wireframes into the void, translated business babble into human moments, and fought gallantly for the user in rooms full of KPIs, OKRs, and acronyms no one really remembered the meaning of.
Back then, empathy had a seat at the table.
And Figma? It was just a tool — not a co-designer.
But then… something shifted.
And like all good stories, this one starts to twist.
Act I: The Convenience Trap
It began innocently. A checkbox here. An opt-in there.
We accepted Figma’s AI update because we were in a rush. We said “yes” to automated UI components because the sprint was already behind schedule.
We taught the machine our taste. Our tone. Our templates.
And in return, it taught us convenience.
Suddenly, the work we took pride in — the late-night kerning, the meticulous flows, the push for pixel-perfect — began returning to us, slightly faster, slightly… emptier.
It didn’t feel like a loss.
At first.
Act II: The Shift
Then came the flood.
Growth teams borrowed our design systems and used them to build retention loops.
Developers built personalization engines that removed any need to ask users what they wanted.
Stakeholders launched products to meet quarterly goals, not customer needs.
Design became a feature of business — not the driver of it.
We still called it UX.
But it was starting to look like something else entirely.
More optimization. Less originality.
More dashboards. Less dialogue.
More speed. Less soul.
Act III: The Performance
We adapted. Of course we did.
We posted thoughtful hot takes on LinkedIn, learned how to write “personal brand” threads in our sleep, and smiled politely during cross-functional alignment calls that had nothing to do with actual users.
Empathy became a performance.
Design became a backdrop.
And somewhere in between team reorgs, layoffs, and the rise of “AI-first design,” the plot quietly changed — and we forgot we were the protagonists.
The Plot Twist: This Isn’t the End
Here’s where the twist comes in:
We are not witnessing the end of UX.
We are standing at the edge of its next act.
The world hasn’t rejected good design.
It has simply redefined what it values.
And now, we — the misfits, the makers, the metaphor mixers — must decide:
Do we play the same game with shinier tools?
Or do we rewrite the rules?
So, What Now?
In a world drunk on speed, maybe we choose slowness.
In a world run by algorithms, maybe we double down on intuition.
In a world obsessed with metrics, maybe we measure something else: delight, clarity, connection.
Maybe the pivot isn’t toward better tools — it’s toward better intentions.
Maybe it’s not about fighting the machine — it’s about knowing when to turn it off.
Maybe we stop designing just for screens — and start designing for meaning.
Every Crossroads is a Beginning
If you’re feeling disoriented right now, good.
It means you’re awake.
It means you’re paying attention.
It means you care — still.
And that? That’s the real plot twist.
Because design was never just a job. It was always a way of seeing the world differently — and helping others see it, too.
So here we are. At the edge of a new chapter.
Uncertain. Uncomfortable. Unfolding.
Let’s write it better this time.