Chasing Titles, Finding Influence
Rethinking Design Career Paths and Skill Sets
The Title Trap
A while back, someone asked me what a “Staff Product Designer” actually does. I paused—not because I didn’t have an answer, but because I had too many. Depending on the org, the team, or even the individual, that title can mean anything from pixel-perfect execution to organizational strategy. Sometimes it’s a recognition of experience. Sometimes it’s just… inflation.
The truth is, design titles are messy. They rarely map cleanly to responsibilities. Two people with the same title can be doing completely different jobs—and vice versa. This creates tension not just in how we collaborate, but in how we measure our own growth. We chase titles thinking they’ll bring clarity, only to realize they’re often just another layer of abstraction.
I’ve been reflecting on this a lot lately—how career progression in design is far less linear than we’re led to believe. And how true growth often comes not from climbing a ladder, but from building influence, trusting your instincts, and leaning into your unique strengths—even if they don’t fit the standard mold.
Not All Designers Are Built the Same—And That’s the Point
One of the most quietly harmful myths in product design is the idea that all designers should be able to do all things equally well. We’ve romanticized the “full-stack” designer to the point where anything less feels like a flaw. But the truth is, product design—just like engineering—splinters into vastly different specializations. And that’s not a problem. That’s a strength.
"We’ve romanticized the ‘full-stack’ designer to the point where anything less feels like a flaw."
Some designers are deeply systems-minded. They think in tokens, components, governance, and scalability. Their superpower is bringing clarity and consistency to chaos. Others are high-craft visual thinkers—masters of motion, layout, typography, and brand expression. They don’t just make things usable; they make them feel alive. Still others lean into strategy, research, UX, or storytelling.
None of these skill sets are “better” than the others—they’re just different. But the industry often fails to acknowledge this diversity. We give everyone the same title and stack them on the same ladder, as if the path to “Senior” or “Staff” should look identical regardless of the kind of designer you are.
"We’d never expect a backend engineer to also be a brilliant UI developer—so why expect it from designers?"
If we want better teams and more honest career growth, we need to embrace the idea that different designers bring different types of value—and that our titles, ladders, and expectations should reflect that.
Promotions Aren’t Just About Output—They’re About Influence
For a long time, I thought getting promoted meant doing more. More tickets, more prototypes, more big launches with my name attached. And sure, output matters—but somewhere along the way, I realized that real career growth in design isn’t just about how much you ship. It’s about how much you shape.
"Real career growth in design isn’t just about how much you ship—it’s about how much you shape."
The turning point for me came when I started focusing less on individual projects and more on the systems that supported everyone else’s work. I leaned into the unglamorous stuff: cleaning up processes, building internal tools, guiding other designers through complexity, and connecting the dots between teams that rarely talked. I wasn’t trying to prove anything—I was just trying to make the work better. And that’s when things shifted.
Influence often looks invisible from the outside. It’s the strategic clarity you bring into a messy room. The trust you build when you advocate for change without needing credit. The quiet stability you offer when people feel overwhelmed. It’s not flashy. It doesn’t always end up in a portfolio. But it’s often the difference between someone being “Senior” in title and being seen as a leader.
When I was promoted to Staff, it wasn’t because I’d designed a shiny new product. It was because I’d helped shape how we worked—across teams, across orgs, and across time. That kind of systems-minded influence isn’t always visible, but it changes everything.
"Influence doesn’t always end up in a portfolio—but it’s often what earns trust."
But here’s the thing: that’s my path. Not every designer gets promoted by influencing infrastructure or operations. Some earn it by driving the business forward with standout product experiences—beautifully executed work that users love and that the company can rally behind. Others get there through storytelling, research, strategy, or creative vision. The path to growth looks different depending on your design archetype, and that’s exactly how it should be.
Define Growth on Your Own Terms
Titles matter—but they’re not the whole story. They can open doors, signal seniority, or help you negotiate that next role. But they rarely capture the nuance of what you actually do, how you show up, or the value you bring to your team.
Real growth in design doesn’t always look like a straight path up. It looks like leaning into your strengths—whether that’s crafting stunning interfaces, building scalable systems, shaping strategy, or mentoring others. It looks like expanding your influence, not just your output. And it looks different for every designer, because this field isn’t one-size-fits-all—and it never should be.
"Your growth doesn’t have to follow a ladder. Sometimes it builds outward, not upward."
If we want better teams and healthier careers, we need to stop treating titles as a proxy for impact and start embracing the messy, nonlinear, deeply personal nature of growth. Your path is yours. Make it make sense for you.