Someone asked me recently if I liked my job. I hesitated in my response because, well, I was completely torn.

Every job has its ups and downs (with regards to the day-to-day minutiae). But for me those environmental differences between agencies, firms and corporations are secondary. The primary factor in deciding my job satisfaction is the quotient of how much I am able to help people. After all, isn’t that what design really is?

I rarely write about my job (or design in general) because there are already so many others out there doing it. And they’re doing so with more zeal and intelligence than I ever could. But when it comes to the reflective aspects of my career, the point at which professional and personal lives intersect, I have plenty to say. I just hope it doesn’t seem as contrived as I fear it may become.

I chose design at age 18 because I have some insuppressible need to communicate, to express myself. But since I think doing so by word is too limited for me (read: I write like a 2 year old on LSD), I choose to design. It’s about control and problem solving. That’s the bottom line. You take a problem, solve it and express it visually with such perfect integration that the final audience (hopefully) doesn’t even notice the initial problem. It’s the perfect blend of logic and aesthetic in my opinion. But as is the typical catch, the blessing is concurrently the curse.

If design were about solving the problems of clients (getting out their message, making their process seamless, fixing workflow breakdowns, etc), then one would naively expect the clients to be receptive to this. Perhaps simply because they are soliciting you, and not the other way around. But what happens when the client is energetically and self-righteously opposed to your work, your influence and your ideas?

Now to pause, I realize that this is no specialized problem. Teachers are reviled by their pupils, cops by the general public, and so on. Essentially any profession that exerts power or control over another group can be seen as overbearing and ultimately unwanted. Needless to say, I have no reason to gripe, as I am not alone in my frustration by any stretch of the imagination.

But my question then becomes, “do not these other professionals become aggravated by continual rejection and devaluation by their audiences?” My knee-jerk response to cranky clients typically results in an internal retort of, “Fine! If you want your website to look like donkey ass then you deserve it! Be content with your Microsoft Frontpage monstrosity!” But here’s where the parallels break down. Cops are detested by those who are caught doing wrong. Teachers are seen as tyrants by those who have no choice but to be “ruled” by them. So in what other situation does one get solicited for help only to be reproached at every turn? “Please help me with this problem. No, you’re terrible! That is a stupid idea! Here, I’ve done it already so just use what I’ve done.” Harrumph indeed. Imagine calling 911 for an ambulance only to tell the EMTs to piss off once they arrive to help you. That’s where I feel contemporary corporate design is.

So for me, when my “services” are seen as more unwelcome than heroic, that’s when I question my long-term happiness. It’s one thing to battle the expected nuisances of a project, but it’s completely different for the entire process to be an uphill struggle. It is just too exhausting. I signed up to wrestle with information architecture and balance, not bureaucratic idiots that couldn’t tell the difference between a pixel and a pencil. I can wrangle with both, just not at the same time.

I suppose at the end of the day I need to just learn to begrudgingly accept it and move on with wounded pride. I do know, however, that when I pay a plumber or a dentist for their services, I won’t argue with them over what they do for a living. I may ask questions, I might even disagree. But the bottom line is that they are professionals, trained to do this. For a career. And sometimes we need to just trust in that.