Changed tribes
May 25th, 2026
I was developing a commercial model strategy for a product my team is building when I caught myself — half-jokingly, half-seriously — sending a message to the lead designer: I'm clearly a consultant now.
I wrote it with some disdain. Like I'd realised I'd crossed to the other side. The carnivorous, squared, uninspired, suited-up side. Changed tribes. And then — and I'm almost afraid to put this in writing — I realised I was enjoying it.
On the previous call, I'd been doing creative direction on a branding project for an energy company. We talked typography, colour, layout. It was good work. But it felt, somehow, operational. A mode I'd switched into rather than something I simply was.
I'm not sure when that shifted.
The honest version is that I no longer belong cleanly to either tribe. Designers don't fully recognise me as one of them — I talk about commercial models and delivery margins. Consultants don't fully recognise me as one of them either — I care too much about whether the kerning is right. I move between both worlds, which is a privileged position and, occasionally, a lonely one.
What got me here, I think, was a willingness to do a shitty job at something new — and being given the space to eventually get better at it. Not always waiting for permission. Sometimes asking for forgiveness instead. That compelled me to step into rooms I had no real business being in, wear hats that were clearly too big, and stay long enough to grow into them.
I'd like to think I give that same space to others. What I'm less sure about is whether it lands as a gift or a burden — whether expecting people to own the room the way I did is generosity or projection.