Giorgia Lupi is an information designer – with a degree in architecture and a Ph.D. from Politecnico di Milano – and the founder of Accurat, a data design studio with offices in Milan and New York. She co-authored with Stefanie Posavec Dear Data, the best seller based on postcards they exchanged, and the interactive book Observe, Collect, Draw – A Visual Journal; her TED Talk on the humanistic approach to data has over one million views. She focuses on Data Humanism, and uses data to understand the human condition and aspects of society, distilling our personal experiences; her work has been showcased at the MoMA and Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum, and Accurat’s project, The Room of Change, opened the Broken Nature exhibition at Triennale Milano. Since 2018 she has been director's fellow at Boston’s MIT Media Lab, and is currently a partner at Pentagram in New York. / in conversation with Sara Fortunati, director of Turin's Circolo del Design, ed Elisabetta Donati de Conti, author and curator.
Sara: In this historical moment, we are overwhelmed by data and perhaps tend to hunt them down more than ever; what are we missing, in terms of imperfections and empathy, considering your method and your data humanism approach?
Giorgia: We have gone from not being particularly interested in data – if not at specific times, such as during political campaigns – to looking for updates every evening. But we don’t really know how to interpret them, because we don’t know how they were collected, sources don’t report the missing data, the data we have are imperfect, and they were clearly recorded in different ways depending on the region, or even the institute. Furthermore, these data are processed through different models to figure out how they should be aggregated. It’s unprecedented, and so is our need for these data. However, I think that any time we google news or content, we are seeking for data that will tell us what we want to hear: they give us a sense of certainty, and seem to make something that is not actually representative of reality look true and undisputable. The way data are represented leads us to think they are irrefutable, but design actually should help represent uncertainty, nuances, and the processes that turn a small red dot on a map into a large circle. I think these are interesting times for communication in general, and for me as a designer, to understand what my data humanism 2.0 may be.
Elisabetta: Do you feel there has been more interest in creating information in the past few weeks, in terms of both quantity and quality?
Giorgia: Italy and the United States operate in different ways. In the United States, information is conveyed by the press and not by impartial agencies such as the Civil Protection in Italy – which is fine, because The New York Times, for example, is an outstanding source. Providing citizens with information is important, but I don’t think that reassuring readers should be a widespread priority, and I’m not sure that long, in-depth pieces about the inner workings of statistical models appeal to the general audience. One positive aspect that has emerged in the exchange of information is that, for the first time, all the private and public research centers in the world are collaborating to solve the same issue.
Elisabetta: In this visual, communication and digital multitude, do you see an opportunity for designers to find a new role, new inspiration and even new ways to approach their profession? Do you expect examples of volcanic creativity to arise from this situation?
Giorgia: There are so many different design disciplines: product designers, information designers and interaction designers, for example, think in completely different ways – and I think the solutions they may envision and the thoughts they are forming in these times will have a myriad of different flavors. Interaction designers and service designers will open a huge conversation on public spaces, because the dynamics that will emerge after this crisis, once we are able to return to museums, stores and so on, are still unknown. At this point, we know this is a true crisis, and that crises like this can deeply change habits and behaviors. How should we design different interactions? We don’t have the answers now, because we don’t know what the new scenario will be like; however, interaction designers are already wondering whether, for example, people will still feel like touching an iPad other people have touched before them, if they include one in an interactive installation. Maybe they will in years but not in the short term – or vice versa. We only know that, from now on and for a long time, things will be different. So, although nobody has ready-made solutions to implement, I think the world of design must (as it is doing) reflect on how behaviors will change once we all return to shared spaces. On top of this, there are some more temporary aspects that are changing our lives thanks to digital interaction, and in this instance we are observing some very creative uses of Zoom, Instagram live or even certain functions in real life that are really interesting. In this sense, design is helping us survive in rethinking some of these dynamics.
Elisabetta: Have you noticed any suggestions we can grasp from the way people are figuring out how to live and work online?
Giorgia: I have always worked remotely a lot and had the chance to try various ways to do it. Today, our online life seems to try to simply recreate what was pleasant and allowed us to socialize in our analog life, with design content of course. But on top of these tools, I think a broader reconsideration of human nature is taking place because, if we miss real interactions, the humanitarian crisis becomes so burdensome that – for example – it supplants any action interaction design might suggest. We have gone from mental calendars that gave us the thrill of future perspectives to completely empty future mental calendars. I think this moment should make us reflect more on the contribution we can give our communities as individuals, and not so much on what we can give as designers.
Sara: At first we kept ourselves busy with the activities we usually never have time for. But then we started feeling our condition become deeper, as if isolation was leading each one of us to dig deeper and deeper. Could we rediscover stories to tell, as we go “down”? Is there a kernel from which – as individuals and then as a society, when we will return to be a society – we can reboot, and tell our story? Could design work on that?
Giorgia: I think so, and your image of something being “under” is perfect. Isolation is like an onion: there are different layers that emerge, but there is also a shared core in discovering we are able to live in a way we thought was impossible before. Stumbling into this crisis has forced us to re-evaluate our primary needs, which are fundamentally covered anyway. Of course we would like our lives back, but now we know that we can give up some superfluous things – and it’s a discovery we made both as individuals and as a society. We might still be in an intermediate layer of discovery, but I think if we dig deeper we might find the meaning of life and of our role in the world, which we had been looking for. When everything that kept us busy, or distracted us, or projected us towards future plans is removed, we start asking ourselves more universal questions. This personal and collective shift will bring up stories to be told and different ways to build relationships, and will certainly influence many projects. Perhaps the design world will take in higher consideration the fact that during the crisis we are really all the same, and will start working towards creating a fundamental humanitarian equality.
Elisabetta: Do you think design had partially forgotten individuals’ emotional needs and cities social needs until now?
Giorgia: During the emergency, design is tackling immediate needs – emotional needs will probably emerge later on. The City of New York, for example, has partnered with Headspace making the meditation app freely available for all residents, often confined in micro-apartments that don’t even have a kitchen: that’s a design operation. Many authors and film directors are making their past works available for free, through platforms and interfaces that are indeed design products. We tend to give these dynamics for granted, but they can really help the community. I think design has always paid great attention to the emotional needs in our lives, but right now those needs are stronger, more important and heavier.
Sara: An important and valued part of your work is your ability to find “bridges” to communicate scientific information to other disciplines. Right now a lot of ideas are combining as we rethink the future, and perhaps there is a better chance of being heard – because people seem more aware, sensitive and prepared. What data would you like to work with, right now?
Giorgia: I think this time is my opportunity to have people understand what I’ve always believed in: the importance of the data we do not see. The data we have not recorded yet are even more interesting, because at some point someone will record them precisely because we will need to understand what they tell us: we will invent a way to understand and represent them, and will achieve a level of quality that is crucial to storytelling. Data tell stories. And the data that are still not in the form of data are those I am the most interested in, the ones I want to collect and present. In contrast, I am not inspired by having a data set laid out in front of me, ready for me to simply represent it, because the way data are built is just as important as they way you represent them. What I am the most passionate about, as a designer, is our human nature: why do we react in a certain way, why do we have certain emotions, how do we think, how do we relate to each other, what do we struggle for – and these data are the ones that build our personal stories. I am happy to see many are using the Dear Data format to map and understand themselves in a way that is simpler than keeping a journal, so I would like to make this code – using personal data to create stories – even more democratic. I certainly consider scientific research an important theme, but I am much more interested in data that come from “down below”, and in questions that help us better understand who we are.
Elisabetta: How would you like this period to be named, drawn, represented, or described?
Giorgia: We will all have a “before” and an “after” the coronavirus. I think this period will be the watershed in our memories and in the anecdotes we tell, a permanent mark on our perception of time. The pandemic is changing our lives in a powerful way, and I think the themes that will stick, in general, will be lowered expectations, learning to cope with uncertainty, and learning to deal with ourselves. I think we will carry what we are learning in these months with us, whatever our future will look like.
