Fielding Ambiguity

When I was a student, I had a very dualistic understanding of how the world works. Architectural projects were either the-best-thing-ever or utter shit. There was no in-between. I venerated the designers of glorious projects, overlooking their flaws. I assumed the people who made shitty ones were completely clueless. Why would they make such crap?

Now that I’ve been working for a long time, I understand designers don’t have complete control over the work. Ambiguity is the norm; the “right” answers are often only right in retrospect. Some people leave; new ones join. People change their minds. Teams get reorganized. Conditions change. Incentives change. Learning to be effective under such conditions is not easy. We crave clarity and resolution, and often they’re not on offer. But learning to deal with ambiguity is essential to maturing as a professional designer.

Whenever I find myself in an ambiguous place, I take a step back to make an inventory of what I do know about the situation. (This will often take the form of a mind map or other such visual information dump. Stickies and a whiteboard are useful tools in this context.) I look for specific areas where I lack information. What has changed? What do I know I don’t know? How can I find out? What can I infer from the things I do know? (Of course, there’s also stuff I don’t know I don’t know. Knowing that offers some relief.) If other people are in the same situation with me, making these inventories together can help relieve some of the uncertainty, and remind me I’m not struggling alone.

Taking steps towards clarifying the situation is always preferable than letting it paralyze you. The process can even prompt you to reframe the problem you’re dealing with, bringing some degree of relief — if not closure.