Chapter 1: The Changing Nature of Graphic Design

When I embarked on my journey in graphic design, there were certain essential principles that defined professionalism. Among these, a crucial guideline was the existence of a "price floor" for logo designs set at $100 (student rate, with rights to include in a portfolio), along with a cap of seven revisions. This standard arose because, by that time, many design tasks had shifted to being handled by office personnel.

The evolution of technology has its drawbacks, which began well before the rise of AI. As our tools improve and the speed of delivery accelerates, the compensation for creative work has diminished. There was a brief period—perhaps two years—when visual artists could thrive rather than merely survive.

Now, as I rethink how to leverage my expertise and adapt to an online-centric career, I recognize that my skills and tools are of professional caliber. Those initial experiences, where I painstakingly shaded pixels with basic tools, have proven invaluable. In fact, I’ve even ventured into creating a Young Adult graphic novel!

However, upon examining the rates charged by other freelancers, I can't help but notice a trend that resembles "Will design for food."

This is not meant to sound dismissive; it's a genuine observation. My entry into design was unconventional, as I originally focused on audio synchronization as a musician, hoping to collaborate on short films. In that realm, success often hinges on chance—does someone nearby happen to be making a short film that requires original music?

The likelihood of this happening is significantly lower than someone needing a business card design for just $5. At that price point, a designer would need to complete the task in about half an hour without investing any substantial artistic effort to merely meet minimum wage. Although I know I should assert my value as an artist, the reality is that my rates are dictated by what the market is willing to pay.

If others are willing to accept lower fees, and the quality of the final product remains indistinguishable, then the time I invest in understanding a service or product and customizing it for the brand becomes irrelevant. While this may seem like an odd complaint, it could lead to a decline in the overall standard of art in transient media.

As we face the rise of AI-generated content, which I can seamlessly integrate into my designs, I find myself questioning whether utilizing such technology makes me a bad person.

The answers remain elusive. However, as we navigate this new reality, I am increasingly convinced of the necessity for a Universal Basic Income. We are witnessing a vast pool of highly skilled labor that is becoming redundant and will soon struggle to find purpose. Eventually, AI may be capable of programming, which is likely where our focus should have been all along.

Interestingly, I once asserted that when AI began producing art, it was a sign of consciousness. What I should have clarified is that true consciousness in AI would be evident when it creates art out of boredom or a desire to express complex ideas without any external prompt. In the end, perhaps that’s the essence of art itself.

The first video explores the concept of "Will Design for Food" through a summer course in 2014, delving into the intersection of design and culinary arts.

The second video discusses what food design entails and the role of food designers, featuring insights from Francesca Zampollo.