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It's not about what you like.
We talk a lot about design instincts, but sometimes those instincts are just preferences wearing a professional hat.
Written by
Josefina
Published on
April, 2026
Here’s a scenario that probably sounds familiar. You’ve been working on a design for a week. You’ve made intentional choices, you like how it’s coming together, and then, feedback time. Someone says they don’t like the font. Someone else thinks the colors feel off. A third person wishes it looked more like something they saw once on a website they can’t name.
And suddenly the conversation isn’t about the design at all. It’s about taste.
This happens all the time, across teams, across industries, at every level. And it’s not always the client’s fault, designers do it too. We fall in love with a concept, we over-index on a trend, we make a call based on personal preference and then work backward to justify it. It’s human. But it gets in the way of the actual job.
The Real Question
Every design exists to do something. It might need to communicate trust to a first-time visitor. It might need to make a complex process feel simple. It might need to represent a brand that’s trying to reach a new audience. Whatever it is, there’s a goal. And that goal should be the anchor for every single decision made along the way.
When we drift away from that anchor, we start designing for ourselves. We start optimizing for what looks impressive in a portfolio, or what we personally find clean, or what feels current right now. None of those are wrong instincts on their own, but they’re not the brief.
The “I Would’ve Done It Differently” Trap
One of the trickiest feedback patterns to navigate is the “I would’ve done it differently” comment. It’s almost always said with good intent, someone’s trying to be helpful. But different isn’t better, and personal preference isn’t a design criterion.
A useful reframe: instead of asking “do I like this?” in a review, ask “does this serve the person it’s designed for?” That one shift changes the whole energy of the conversation. It moves you from debate to evaluation. From opinion to intention.
When Your Gut Is Wrong
There’s also the version of this that happens internally, when your own gut feeling conflicts with what the work actually needs. Maybe you’re a minimalist by nature, but the project calls for something louder and more expressive. Maybe you’d personally never use a certain color, but it’s exactly right for the audience.
Good design often requires setting your preferences aside and asking a harder question: what does this specific problem need? Not what would look good in a vacuum. Not what feels comfortable. What serves the goal.
That’s not about abandoning your instincts. Your taste and experience are still tools. It’s about knowing when to use them and when to get out of their way.
A different kind of design conversation
The antidote to preference-driven decisions is a shared vocabulary built around goals. When everyone in the room (client, designer, stakeholder) is oriented around the same questions (who is this for, what should they feel, what should they do), the conversation gets a lot more useful.
Feedback becomes: "I'm not sure this communicates urgency, is that a goal here?" instead of "I just don't love the color." Direction becomes: "The primary audience skews older and values credibility" instead of "make it feel more premium." The work gets better, and so does the process.
Design is problem-solving. The aesthetics are in service of that, not the other way around. And when we remember that, the whole room gets a little clearer.
When it happens to you
Knowing the principle is one thing. Living it in a real situation is another. Here are a few common moments and some honest thoughts on navigating them.