What Zen And The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance Can Teach Us About Web Design
I think we, as engineers and designers, have a lot to gain by stepping outside of our worlds. That’s why in previous pieces I’ve been drawn towards architecture, newspapers, and the occasional polymath. Today, we stumble blindly into the world of philosophy. Bear with me. I think there’s something to it.
In 1974, the American philosopher Robert M. Pirsig published a book called Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. A flowing blend of autobiography, road trip diary, and philosophical musings, the book’s ‘chautauqua’ is an interplay between art, science, and self. Its outlook on life has stuck with me since I read it.
The book often feels prescient, at times surreal to read given it’s now 50 years old. Pirsig’s reflections on arts vs. sciences, subjective vs. objective, and systems vs. people translate seamlessly to the digital age. There are lessons there that I think are useful when trying to navigate — and build — the web. Those lessons are what this piece is about.
I feel obliged at this point to echo Pirsig and say that what follows should in no way be associated with the great body of factual information about Zen Buddhist practice. It’s not very factual in terms of web development, either.
Buddha In The Machine
Zen is written in stages. It sets a scene before making its central case. That backdrop is important, so I will mirror it here. The book opens with the start of a motorcycle road trip undertaken by Pirsig and his son. It’s a winding journey that takes them most of the way across the United States.
Despite the trip being in part characterized as a flight from the machine, from the industrial ‘death force’, Pirsig takes great pains to emphasize that technology is not inherently bad or destructive. Treating it as such actually prevents us from finding ways in which machinery and nature can be harmonious.
Granted, at its worst, the technological world does feel like a death force. In the book’s 1970s backdrop, it manifests as things like efficiency, profit, optimization, automation, growth — the kinds of words that, when we read them listed together, a part of our soul wants to curl up in the fetal position.
In modern tech, those same forces apply. We might add things like engagement and tracking to them. Taken to the extreme, these forces contribute to the web feeling like a deeply inhuman place. Something cold, calculating, and relentless, yet without a fire in its belly. Impersonal, mechanical, inhuman.
Faced with these forces, the impulse is often to recoil. To shut our laptops and wander into the woods. However, there is a big difference between clearing one’s head and burying it in the sand. Pirsig argues that “Flight from and hatred of technology is self-defeating.” To throw our hands up and step away from tech is to concede to the power of its more sinister forces.
“The Buddha, the Godhead, resides quite as comfortably in the circuits of a digital computer or the gears of a cycle transmission as he does at the top of a mountain or in the petals of a flower. To think otherwise is to demean the Buddha — which is to demean oneself.”— Robert M. Pirsig
Before we can concern ourselves with questions about what we might do, we must try our best to marshal how we might be. We take our heads and hearts with us wherever we go. If we characterize ourselves as powerless pawns, then that is what we will be.
Where design and development are concerned, that means residing in the technology without losing our sense of self — or power. Technology is only as good or evil, as useful or as futile, as the people shaping it. Be it the internet or artificial intelligence, to direct blame or ire at the technology itself is to absolve ourselves of the responsibility to use it better. It is better not to demean oneself, I think.
So, with the Godhead in mind, to business.
Classical And Romantic
A core concern of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance is the tension between the arts and sciences. The two worlds have a long, rich history of squabbling and dysfunction. There is often mutual distrust, suspicion, and even hostility. This, again, is self-defeating. Hatred of technology is a symptom of it.
“A classical understanding sees the world primarily as the underlying form itself. A romantic understanding sees it primarily in terms of immediate appearance.”— Robert M. Pirsig
If we were to characterize the two as bickering siblings, familiar adjectives might start to appear:
Classical
Romantic
Dull
Frivolous
Awkward
Irrational
Ugly
Erratic
Mechanical
Untrustworthy
Cold
Fleeting
Anyone in the world of web design and development will have come up against these kinds of standoffs. Tensions arise between testing and intuition, best practices and innovation, structure and fluidity. Is design about following rules or breaking them?
Treating such questions as binary is a fallacy. In doing so, we place ourselves in adversarial positions, whatever we consider ourselves to be. The best work comes from these worlds working together — from recognising they are bound.
Steve Jobs was a famous advocate of this.
“Technology alone is not enough — it’s technology married with liberal arts, married with the humanities, that yields us the result that makes our heart sing.”— Steve Jobs
Whatever you may feel about Jobs himself, I think this sentiment is watertight. No one field holds all the keys. Leonardo da Vinci was a shining example of doing away with this needless siloing of worlds. He was a student of light, anatomy, art, architecture, everything and anything that interested him. And they complemented each other. Excellence is a question of harmony.
Is a motorcycle a romantic or classical artifact? Is it a machine or a symbol? A series of parts or a whole? It’s all these things and more. To say otherwise does a disservice to the motorcycle and deprives us of its full beauty.
Just by reframing the relationship in this way, the kinds of adjectives that come to mind naturally shift toward more harmonious territory.
Classical
Romantic
Organized
Vibrant
Scaleable
Evocative
Reliable
Playful
Efficient
Fun
Replicable
Expressive
And, of course, when we try thinking this way, the distinction itself starts feeling fuzzier. There is so much that they share.
Pirsig posits that the division between the subjective and objective is one of the great missteps of the Greeks, one that has been embraced wholeheartedly by the West in the millennia since. That doesn’t have to be the lens, though. Perhaps monism, not dualism, is the way.
In a sense, technology marks the ultimate interplay between the arts and the sciences, the classical and the romantic. It is the human condition brought to you with ones and zeros. To separate those parts of it is to tear apart the thing itself.
The same is true of the web. Is it romantic or classical? Art or science? Structured or anarchic? It is all those things and more. Engineering at its best is where all these apparent contradictions meet and become one.
What is this place? Well, that brings us to a core concept of Pirsig’s book: Quality.
Quality
The central concern of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance is the ‘Metaphysics of Quality’. Pirsig argues that ‘Quality’ is where subjective and objective experience meet. Quality is at the knife edge of experience.
“Quality is the continuing stimulus which our environment puts upon us to create the world in which we live. All of it. Every last bit of it.”— Robert M. Pirsig
Pirsig's writings overlap a lot with Taoism and Eastern philosophy, to the extent that he likens Quality to the Tao. Quality is similarly undefinable, with Pirsig himself making a point of not defining it. Like the Tao, Plato’s Form of the Good, or the ‘good taste’ to which GitHub cofounder Scott Chacon recently attributed the platform’s success, it simply is.
Despite its nebulous nature, Quality is something we recognise when we see it. Any given problem or question has an infinite number of potential solutions, but we are drawn to the best ones as water flows toward the sea. When in a hostile environment, we withdraw from it, responding to a lack of Quality around us.
We are drawn to Quality, to the point at which subjective and objective, romantic and classical, meet. There is no map, there isn’t a bullet point list of instructions for finding it, but we know it when we’re there.
A Quality Web
So, what does all this look like in a web context? How can we recognize and pursue Quality for its own sake and resist the forces that pull us away from it?
There are a lot of ways in which the web is not what we’d call a Quality environment. When we use social media sites with algorithms designed around provocation rather than communication, when we’re assailed with ads to such an extent that content feelssecondary, and when AI-generated slop replaces artisanal craft, something feels off. We feel the absence of Quality.
Here are a few habits that I think work in the service of more Quality on the web.
Seek To Understand How Things Work
I’m more guilty than anyone of diving into projects without taking time to step back and assess what I’m actually dealing with. As you can probably guess from the title, a decent amount of time in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance is spent with the author as he tinkers with his motorcycle. Keeping it tuned up and in good repair makes it work better, of course, but the practice has deeper, more understated value, too. It lends itself to understanding.
To maintain a motorcycle, one must have some idea of how it works. To take an engine apart and put it back together, one must know what each piece does and how it connects. For Pirsig, this process becomes almost meditative, offering perspective and clarity. The same is true of code. Rushing to the quick fix, be it due to deadlines or lethargy, will, at best, lead to a shoddy result and, in all likelihood, make things worse.
“Black boxes” are as much a choice not to learn as they are something innately mysterious or unknowable. One of the reasons the web feels so ominous at times is that we don’t know how it works. Why am I being recommended this? Why are ads about ivory backscratchers following me everywhere? The inner workings of web tracking or AI models may not always be available, but just about any concept can be understood in principle.
So, in concrete terms:
Read the documentation, for the love of god.Sometimes we don’t understand how things work because the manual’s bad; more often, it’s because we haven’t looked at it.
Follow pipelines from their start to their finish.How does data get from point A to point Z? What functions does it pass through, and how do they work?
Do health work.Changing the oil in a motorcycle and bumping project dependencies amount to the same thing: a caring and long-term outlook. Shiny new gizmos are cool, but old ones that still run like a dream are beautiful.
Always be studying.We are all works in progress, and clinging on to the way things were won’t make the brave new world go away. Be open to things you don’t know, and try not to treat those areas with suspicion.
Bound up with this is nurturing a love for what might easily be mischaracterized as the ‘boring’ bits. Motorcycles are for road trips, and code powers products and services, but understanding how they work and tending to their inner workings will bring greater benefits in the long run.
Reframe The Questions
Much of the time, our work is understandably organized in terms of goals. OKRs, metrics, milestones, and the like help keep things organized and stuff happening. We shouldn’t get too hung up on them, though. Looking at the things we do in terms of Quality helps us reframe the process.
The highest Quality solution isn’t always the same as the solution that performed best in A/B tests. The Dark Side of the Moon doesn’t exist because of focus groups. The test screenings for Se7en were dreadful. Reducing any given task to a single metric — or even a handful of metrics — hamstrings the entire process.
Rory Sutherland suggests much the same thing in Are We Too Impatient to Be Intelligent? when he talks about looking at things as open-ended questions rather than reducing them to binary metrics to be optimized. Instead of fixating on making trains faster, wouldn’t it be more useful to ask, How do we improve their Quality?
Challenge metrics. Good ones — which is to say, Quality ones — can handle the scrutiny. The bad ones deserve to crumble. Either way, you’re doing the world a service. With any given action you take on a website — from button design to database choices — ask yourself, Does this improve the Quality of what I’m working on? Not the bottom line. Not the conversion rate. Not egos. The Quality. Quality pulls us away from dark patterns and towards the delightful.
The will to Quality is itself a paradigm shift. Aspiring to Quality removes a lot of noise from what is often a deafening environment. It may make things that once seemed big appear small.
Seek To Wed Art With ScienceNone of the above is to say that rules, best practices, conventions, and the like don’t have their place or are antithetical to Quality. They aren’t. To think otherwise is to slip into the kind of dualities Pirsig rails against in Zen.
In a lot of ways, the main underlying theme in my What X Can Teach Us About Web Design pieces over the years has been how connected seemingly disparate worlds are. Yes, Vitruvius’s 1st-century tenets about architecture are useful to web design. Yes, newspapers can teach us much about grid systems and organising content. And yes, a piece of philosophical fiction from the 1970s holds many lessons about how to meet the challenges of artificial intelligence.
Do not close your work off from atypical companions. Stuck on a highly technical problem? Perhaps a piece of children’s literature will help you to make the complicated simple. Designing a new homepage for your website? Look at some architecture.
The best outcomes are harmonies of seemingly disparate worlds. Cling to nothing and throw nothing away.
Make Time For Doing Nothing
Here’s the rub. Just as Quality itself cannot be defined, the way to attain it is also not reducible to a neat bullet point list. Neither waterfall, agile or any other management framework holds the keys.
If we are serious about putting Buddha in the machine, then we must allow ourselves time and space to not do things. Distancing ourselves from the myriad distractions of modern life puts us in states where the drift toward Quality is almost inevitable. In the absence of distracting forces, that’s where we head.
Get away from the screen.We all have those moments where the solution to a problem appears as if out of nowhere. We may be on a walk or doing chores, then pop!
Work on side projects.I’m not naive. I know some work environments are hostile to anything that doesn’t look like relentless delivery. Pet projects are ideal spaces for you to breathe. They’re yours, and you don’t have to justify them to anyone.
As I go into more detail in “An Ode to Side Project Time,” there is immense good in non-doing, in letting the water clear. There is so much urgency, so much of the time. Stepping away from that is vital not just for well-being, but actually leads to better quality work too.
From time to time, let go of your sense of urgency.
Spirit Of Play
Despite appearances, the web remains a deeply human experiment. The very best and very worst of our souls spill out into this place. It only makes sense, therefore, to think of the web — and how we shape it — in spiritual terms. We can’t leave those questions at the door.
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance has a lot to offer the modern web. It’s not a manifesto or a way of life, but it articulates an outlook on technology, art, and the self that many of us recognise on a deep, fundamental level. For anyone even vaguely intrigued by what’s been written here, I suggest reading the book. It’s much better than this article.
Be inspired. So much of the web is beautiful. The highest-rated Awwwards profiles are just a fraction of the amazing things being made every day. Allow yourself to be delighted. Aspire to be delightful. Find things you care about and make them the highest form of themselves you can. And always do so in a spirit of play.
We can carry those sentiments to the web. Do away with artificial divides between arts and science and bring out the best in both. Nurture a taste for Quality and let it guide the things you design and engineer. Allow yourself space for the water to clear in defiance of the myriad forces that would have you do otherwise.
The Buddha, the Godhead, resides quite as comfortably in a social media feed or the inner machinations of cloud computing as at the top of a mountain or in the petals of a flower. To think otherwise is to demean the Buddha, which is to demean oneself.
Other Resources
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M. Pirsig
The Beauty of Everyday Things by Soetsu Yanagi
Tao Te Ching
“The Creative Act” by Rick Rubin
“Robert Pirsig & His Metaphysics of Quality” by Anthony McWatt
“Dark Patterns in UX: How to Identify and Avoid Unethical Design Practices” by Daria Zaytseva
Further Reading on Smashing Magazine
“Three Approaches To Amplify Your Design Projects,” Olivia De Alba
“AI’s Transformative Impact On Web Design: Supercharging Productivity Across The Industry,” Paul Boag
“How A Bottom-Up Design Approach Enhances Site Accessibility,” Eleanor Hecks
“How Accessibility Standards Can Empower Better Chart Visual Design,” Kent Eisenhuth
#what #zen #art #motorcycle #maintenanceWhat Zen And The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance Can Teach Us About Web Design
I think we, as engineers and designers, have a lot to gain by stepping outside of our worlds. That’s why in previous pieces I’ve been drawn towards architecture, newspapers, and the occasional polymath. Today, we stumble blindly into the world of philosophy. Bear with me. I think there’s something to it.
In 1974, the American philosopher Robert M. Pirsig published a book called Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. A flowing blend of autobiography, road trip diary, and philosophical musings, the book’s ‘chautauqua’ is an interplay between art, science, and self. Its outlook on life has stuck with me since I read it.
The book often feels prescient, at times surreal to read given it’s now 50 years old. Pirsig’s reflections on arts vs. sciences, subjective vs. objective, and systems vs. people translate seamlessly to the digital age. There are lessons there that I think are useful when trying to navigate — and build — the web. Those lessons are what this piece is about.
I feel obliged at this point to echo Pirsig and say that what follows should in no way be associated with the great body of factual information about Zen Buddhist practice. It’s not very factual in terms of web development, either.
Buddha In The Machine
Zen is written in stages. It sets a scene before making its central case. That backdrop is important, so I will mirror it here. The book opens with the start of a motorcycle road trip undertaken by Pirsig and his son. It’s a winding journey that takes them most of the way across the United States.
Despite the trip being in part characterized as a flight from the machine, from the industrial ‘death force’, Pirsig takes great pains to emphasize that technology is not inherently bad or destructive. Treating it as such actually prevents us from finding ways in which machinery and nature can be harmonious.
Granted, at its worst, the technological world does feel like a death force. In the book’s 1970s backdrop, it manifests as things like efficiency, profit, optimization, automation, growth — the kinds of words that, when we read them listed together, a part of our soul wants to curl up in the fetal position.
In modern tech, those same forces apply. We might add things like engagement and tracking to them. Taken to the extreme, these forces contribute to the web feeling like a deeply inhuman place. Something cold, calculating, and relentless, yet without a fire in its belly. Impersonal, mechanical, inhuman.
Faced with these forces, the impulse is often to recoil. To shut our laptops and wander into the woods. However, there is a big difference between clearing one’s head and burying it in the sand. Pirsig argues that “Flight from and hatred of technology is self-defeating.” To throw our hands up and step away from tech is to concede to the power of its more sinister forces.
“The Buddha, the Godhead, resides quite as comfortably in the circuits of a digital computer or the gears of a cycle transmission as he does at the top of a mountain or in the petals of a flower. To think otherwise is to demean the Buddha — which is to demean oneself.”— Robert M. Pirsig
Before we can concern ourselves with questions about what we might do, we must try our best to marshal how we might be. We take our heads and hearts with us wherever we go. If we characterize ourselves as powerless pawns, then that is what we will be.
Where design and development are concerned, that means residing in the technology without losing our sense of self — or power. Technology is only as good or evil, as useful or as futile, as the people shaping it. Be it the internet or artificial intelligence, to direct blame or ire at the technology itself is to absolve ourselves of the responsibility to use it better. It is better not to demean oneself, I think.
So, with the Godhead in mind, to business.
Classical And Romantic
A core concern of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance is the tension between the arts and sciences. The two worlds have a long, rich history of squabbling and dysfunction. There is often mutual distrust, suspicion, and even hostility. This, again, is self-defeating. Hatred of technology is a symptom of it.
“A classical understanding sees the world primarily as the underlying form itself. A romantic understanding sees it primarily in terms of immediate appearance.”— Robert M. Pirsig
If we were to characterize the two as bickering siblings, familiar adjectives might start to appear:
Classical
Romantic
Dull
Frivolous
Awkward
Irrational
Ugly
Erratic
Mechanical
Untrustworthy
Cold
Fleeting
Anyone in the world of web design and development will have come up against these kinds of standoffs. Tensions arise between testing and intuition, best practices and innovation, structure and fluidity. Is design about following rules or breaking them?
Treating such questions as binary is a fallacy. In doing so, we place ourselves in adversarial positions, whatever we consider ourselves to be. The best work comes from these worlds working together — from recognising they are bound.
Steve Jobs was a famous advocate of this.
“Technology alone is not enough — it’s technology married with liberal arts, married with the humanities, that yields us the result that makes our heart sing.”— Steve Jobs
Whatever you may feel about Jobs himself, I think this sentiment is watertight. No one field holds all the keys. Leonardo da Vinci was a shining example of doing away with this needless siloing of worlds. He was a student of light, anatomy, art, architecture, everything and anything that interested him. And they complemented each other. Excellence is a question of harmony.
Is a motorcycle a romantic or classical artifact? Is it a machine or a symbol? A series of parts or a whole? It’s all these things and more. To say otherwise does a disservice to the motorcycle and deprives us of its full beauty.
Just by reframing the relationship in this way, the kinds of adjectives that come to mind naturally shift toward more harmonious territory.
Classical
Romantic
Organized
Vibrant
Scaleable
Evocative
Reliable
Playful
Efficient
Fun
Replicable
Expressive
And, of course, when we try thinking this way, the distinction itself starts feeling fuzzier. There is so much that they share.
Pirsig posits that the division between the subjective and objective is one of the great missteps of the Greeks, one that has been embraced wholeheartedly by the West in the millennia since. That doesn’t have to be the lens, though. Perhaps monism, not dualism, is the way.
In a sense, technology marks the ultimate interplay between the arts and the sciences, the classical and the romantic. It is the human condition brought to you with ones and zeros. To separate those parts of it is to tear apart the thing itself.
The same is true of the web. Is it romantic or classical? Art or science? Structured or anarchic? It is all those things and more. Engineering at its best is where all these apparent contradictions meet and become one.
What is this place? Well, that brings us to a core concept of Pirsig’s book: Quality.
Quality
The central concern of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance is the ‘Metaphysics of Quality’. Pirsig argues that ‘Quality’ is where subjective and objective experience meet. Quality is at the knife edge of experience.
“Quality is the continuing stimulus which our environment puts upon us to create the world in which we live. All of it. Every last bit of it.”— Robert M. Pirsig
Pirsig's writings overlap a lot with Taoism and Eastern philosophy, to the extent that he likens Quality to the Tao. Quality is similarly undefinable, with Pirsig himself making a point of not defining it. Like the Tao, Plato’s Form of the Good, or the ‘good taste’ to which GitHub cofounder Scott Chacon recently attributed the platform’s success, it simply is.
Despite its nebulous nature, Quality is something we recognise when we see it. Any given problem or question has an infinite number of potential solutions, but we are drawn to the best ones as water flows toward the sea. When in a hostile environment, we withdraw from it, responding to a lack of Quality around us.
We are drawn to Quality, to the point at which subjective and objective, romantic and classical, meet. There is no map, there isn’t a bullet point list of instructions for finding it, but we know it when we’re there.
A Quality Web
So, what does all this look like in a web context? How can we recognize and pursue Quality for its own sake and resist the forces that pull us away from it?
There are a lot of ways in which the web is not what we’d call a Quality environment. When we use social media sites with algorithms designed around provocation rather than communication, when we’re assailed with ads to such an extent that content feelssecondary, and when AI-generated slop replaces artisanal craft, something feels off. We feel the absence of Quality.
Here are a few habits that I think work in the service of more Quality on the web.
Seek To Understand How Things Work
I’m more guilty than anyone of diving into projects without taking time to step back and assess what I’m actually dealing with. As you can probably guess from the title, a decent amount of time in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance is spent with the author as he tinkers with his motorcycle. Keeping it tuned up and in good repair makes it work better, of course, but the practice has deeper, more understated value, too. It lends itself to understanding.
To maintain a motorcycle, one must have some idea of how it works. To take an engine apart and put it back together, one must know what each piece does and how it connects. For Pirsig, this process becomes almost meditative, offering perspective and clarity. The same is true of code. Rushing to the quick fix, be it due to deadlines or lethargy, will, at best, lead to a shoddy result and, in all likelihood, make things worse.
“Black boxes” are as much a choice not to learn as they are something innately mysterious or unknowable. One of the reasons the web feels so ominous at times is that we don’t know how it works. Why am I being recommended this? Why are ads about ivory backscratchers following me everywhere? The inner workings of web tracking or AI models may not always be available, but just about any concept can be understood in principle.
So, in concrete terms:
Read the documentation, for the love of god.Sometimes we don’t understand how things work because the manual’s bad; more often, it’s because we haven’t looked at it.
Follow pipelines from their start to their finish.How does data get from point A to point Z? What functions does it pass through, and how do they work?
Do health work.Changing the oil in a motorcycle and bumping project dependencies amount to the same thing: a caring and long-term outlook. Shiny new gizmos are cool, but old ones that still run like a dream are beautiful.
Always be studying.We are all works in progress, and clinging on to the way things were won’t make the brave new world go away. Be open to things you don’t know, and try not to treat those areas with suspicion.
Bound up with this is nurturing a love for what might easily be mischaracterized as the ‘boring’ bits. Motorcycles are for road trips, and code powers products and services, but understanding how they work and tending to their inner workings will bring greater benefits in the long run.
Reframe The Questions
Much of the time, our work is understandably organized in terms of goals. OKRs, metrics, milestones, and the like help keep things organized and stuff happening. We shouldn’t get too hung up on them, though. Looking at the things we do in terms of Quality helps us reframe the process.
The highest Quality solution isn’t always the same as the solution that performed best in A/B tests. The Dark Side of the Moon doesn’t exist because of focus groups. The test screenings for Se7en were dreadful. Reducing any given task to a single metric — or even a handful of metrics — hamstrings the entire process.
Rory Sutherland suggests much the same thing in Are We Too Impatient to Be Intelligent? when he talks about looking at things as open-ended questions rather than reducing them to binary metrics to be optimized. Instead of fixating on making trains faster, wouldn’t it be more useful to ask, How do we improve their Quality?
Challenge metrics. Good ones — which is to say, Quality ones — can handle the scrutiny. The bad ones deserve to crumble. Either way, you’re doing the world a service. With any given action you take on a website — from button design to database choices — ask yourself, Does this improve the Quality of what I’m working on? Not the bottom line. Not the conversion rate. Not egos. The Quality. Quality pulls us away from dark patterns and towards the delightful.
The will to Quality is itself a paradigm shift. Aspiring to Quality removes a lot of noise from what is often a deafening environment. It may make things that once seemed big appear small.
Seek To Wed Art With ScienceNone of the above is to say that rules, best practices, conventions, and the like don’t have their place or are antithetical to Quality. They aren’t. To think otherwise is to slip into the kind of dualities Pirsig rails against in Zen.
In a lot of ways, the main underlying theme in my What X Can Teach Us About Web Design pieces over the years has been how connected seemingly disparate worlds are. Yes, Vitruvius’s 1st-century tenets about architecture are useful to web design. Yes, newspapers can teach us much about grid systems and organising content. And yes, a piece of philosophical fiction from the 1970s holds many lessons about how to meet the challenges of artificial intelligence.
Do not close your work off from atypical companions. Stuck on a highly technical problem? Perhaps a piece of children’s literature will help you to make the complicated simple. Designing a new homepage for your website? Look at some architecture.
The best outcomes are harmonies of seemingly disparate worlds. Cling to nothing and throw nothing away.
Make Time For Doing Nothing
Here’s the rub. Just as Quality itself cannot be defined, the way to attain it is also not reducible to a neat bullet point list. Neither waterfall, agile or any other management framework holds the keys.
If we are serious about putting Buddha in the machine, then we must allow ourselves time and space to not do things. Distancing ourselves from the myriad distractions of modern life puts us in states where the drift toward Quality is almost inevitable. In the absence of distracting forces, that’s where we head.
Get away from the screen.We all have those moments where the solution to a problem appears as if out of nowhere. We may be on a walk or doing chores, then pop!
Work on side projects.I’m not naive. I know some work environments are hostile to anything that doesn’t look like relentless delivery. Pet projects are ideal spaces for you to breathe. They’re yours, and you don’t have to justify them to anyone.
As I go into more detail in “An Ode to Side Project Time,” there is immense good in non-doing, in letting the water clear. There is so much urgency, so much of the time. Stepping away from that is vital not just for well-being, but actually leads to better quality work too.
From time to time, let go of your sense of urgency.
Spirit Of Play
Despite appearances, the web remains a deeply human experiment. The very best and very worst of our souls spill out into this place. It only makes sense, therefore, to think of the web — and how we shape it — in spiritual terms. We can’t leave those questions at the door.
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance has a lot to offer the modern web. It’s not a manifesto or a way of life, but it articulates an outlook on technology, art, and the self that many of us recognise on a deep, fundamental level. For anyone even vaguely intrigued by what’s been written here, I suggest reading the book. It’s much better than this article.
Be inspired. So much of the web is beautiful. The highest-rated Awwwards profiles are just a fraction of the amazing things being made every day. Allow yourself to be delighted. Aspire to be delightful. Find things you care about and make them the highest form of themselves you can. And always do so in a spirit of play.
We can carry those sentiments to the web. Do away with artificial divides between arts and science and bring out the best in both. Nurture a taste for Quality and let it guide the things you design and engineer. Allow yourself space for the water to clear in defiance of the myriad forces that would have you do otherwise.
The Buddha, the Godhead, resides quite as comfortably in a social media feed or the inner machinations of cloud computing as at the top of a mountain or in the petals of a flower. To think otherwise is to demean the Buddha, which is to demean oneself.
Other Resources
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M. Pirsig
The Beauty of Everyday Things by Soetsu Yanagi
Tao Te Ching
“The Creative Act” by Rick Rubin
“Robert Pirsig & His Metaphysics of Quality” by Anthony McWatt
“Dark Patterns in UX: How to Identify and Avoid Unethical Design Practices” by Daria Zaytseva
Further Reading on Smashing Magazine
“Three Approaches To Amplify Your Design Projects,” Olivia De Alba
“AI’s Transformative Impact On Web Design: Supercharging Productivity Across The Industry,” Paul Boag
“How A Bottom-Up Design Approach Enhances Site Accessibility,” Eleanor Hecks
“How Accessibility Standards Can Empower Better Chart Visual Design,” Kent Eisenhuth
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