Design Lessons from my Bathroom

I’m a fairly dedicated DIY-er. I enjoy learning new skills and the sense of accomplishment it brings. I’m also really cheap, but that’s a topic for a different blog.

I recently renovated a bathroom–a project that did not go entirely smoothly, although the final ‘deliverable’ was acceptable. During my many hours of nailing, soldering, drywalling, sanding and painting I had the chance to reflect on some of the parallels between my WC project and the kinds of projects I work on as a designer. Here are a few of my observations.

Deal with urgent problems first, not the ones you feel most comfortable with

When we bought this house a year ago our inspector noted that the bathroom fans vent into the attic, not out of the house. This was highlighted as a potentially serious problem. I put the vents on my to do list but, since I didn’t feel comfortable cutting holes in the roof, I shut the fans off and went on to other less urgent repairs.

When I came to the downstairs bathroom I discovered black mold, which I hired professionals to remove. Their jaws dropped when I told them about the vents, and they told me it needed to be fixed soon. Not using the fan contributed to my moisture problem, which contributed to my mold problem.

Sometimes we encounter web projects where the focus is on issues that the client feels capable of dealing with, rather than on the ones that are most urgent. It’s easy to focus on a visual redesign, or some basic usability improvements. But if your real problem is governance, or internal process, you’re not likely to gain much from your effort.

The courage and discipline to deal with critical issues is not easy to come by. We all prefer tasks where we feel competent and confident. But we need to get past the fear and deal with root problems, even if it means getting help. Otherwise, we’re just putting a new floor in a wet bathroom and waiting for the mold to return.

Know your limits

I’m not a good plumber. Soldering copper pipe gives me more trouble than it should, and the stress of waiting for dripping joints can lead to fevered, restless sleep. Despite this powerful fact, I tried to do the plumbing for the shower because, as previously noted, I am cheap.

After soldering all of the many joints, and discovering leaks (and pumping a not insignificant amount of water onto the floor), I was forced to cut the entire works out and start again. My second attempt was better, but on the eve of completion I discovered a new and persistent drip. After repeated attempts to fix it, my DIY spirit broken, I called a plumber to do the thing right. In retrospect I can see that I should have had a plumber rough in the pipe from the start. It would have cost me a paltry amount and vastly improved my sleep. I didn’t consider the limits of my own skills.

Designers, even good ones with lots of experience, can’t know everything. We need to look honestly at our strengths and weaknesses, and ask for help when necessary. As a designer, I may be a hub, coordinating the input of various contributors, but I am not a creative force of one. Sometimes I need a plumber.

Don’t forget to test

Before calling the plumber I thought I had the pipes totally done and leak free. Feeling confident, I completed the drywall and sealed in the troublesome copper. A dandy bit of taping and mudding made for a beautifully finished wall. Then, after running the shower, I found water on the floor. I realized that I had forgotten to test a single joint leading from the valve to the shower head. And it was leaking. And the wall was finished. And there was no way to reach the leaky joint.

I simply forgot grade one, page one of design school. I didn’t test everything before moving on, and I paid the price. I cut two large holes in my wonderfully finished wall to reach the offending joint.

It’s easy to think you’ve arrived at the right design, and that testing isn’t required. You’ve thought of plenty of alternatives and tested multiple scenarios in your mind. But until you put your work in front of real users you can’t be really sure that there isn’t a leak somewhere. Don’t pass on the testing, or you may find yourself cutting large, ugly holes in your design.

Do the right thing, not the easy thing

Sticking the point of a drywall saw through my beautiful wall was like sticking it in my heart. But I knew I really had no choice. I tried hard to rationalize that the drip was incredibly minor; that it wouldn’t amount to more than two or three drops of water per shower; that we used the basement bathroom very rarely. But I knew that if I let it go all my work would be for nothing in a year; maybe two. The moisture would be food for a new round of mold and I would be ripping everything out once again.

Sometimes when designing I discover myself on a dead end street. I realize that I hadn’t fully anticipated the impact of a requirement or constraint, and that some key part of my idea won’t really work. This is always a painful realization. I sometimes rationalize, trying to convince myself that the idea is sound, despite the evidence. But in the end, I know I have to heed my hard earned lesson and make things right. Taking a step backwards to address a hole in your design is better than tearing your entire product down in a year. In fact, finding the holes is the entire point of the design phase.

Don’t panic

We all hate to get things wrong. Getting things wrong makes us feel incompetent and stressed, and it can lead to panicky decisions that only make things worse. This is the area where my design experience helped the most. In design I’m used to failure. In fact, I embrace it. I seek it out. I don’t look to do a bad job, but I do try to discover all of the ways that my work is wrong; all of the assumptions that are incorrect; all of the biases that are unchallenged. Charging into the jaws of failure is what I do as a designer.

This attitude helped me to avoid panic as I mopped water from the floor. Oh, I was sick at heart, but I knew that I could learn from my experience, adjust my approach, and make things work in the end.

Conclusion

Swimming in unfamiliar waters can reveal interesting aspects of one’s character–things that may not be so easy to see when dealing with the comfortable and the familiar. This experience has helped me to think more about my own limitations, and where I need to seek help, both in the DIY world, and the design world. It may also have cured me of the DIY itch for a while. I think I’ll use some of my new-found free time to go for a bike ride.

But first I need a shower.

Posted in Opinions on July 20, 2010