Critique, the Creator
My neat way of dividing the world of feedback broke, so now I'm fixing it.
A big tease about my next book. And then a bonus insight from my time teaching.
Early next month I will Kickstart the remastered edition of Info We Trust, my comprehensive guide to communicating knowledge.
I first made this book without full creative control. Today, I own its rights and can finally realize my original vision for this book.
This remastered edition is my director's cut. It meets my exacting standards and incorporates years of expertise making high-stakes data graphics.
First readers were astonished by an early version of Info We Trust:
“So inspiring and overflowing with wisdom and hope.”
“This is the most obvious labor-of-love book I’ve seen in years. RJ’s mastery of topic, extraordinary breadth of knowledge, and sheer desire to SHARE come through on every page, in every sketch, and every hidden connection. If you’d like to feel renewed hope in the power of passionate storytelling about reality, read INFO WE TRUST.”
“A love letter to data storytelling.”
Since their review, I've remastered the book with a careful edit enhancing its text, illustrations, and marginalia to what I've learned to be effective and true since producing the first draft. The book also received a fresh layout, new typography design, and complete reflow of content.
In addition to a beautiful print edition, the campaign will also include signed copies and hand-drawn original artwork inspired by the book.
I can't wait for you to experience Info We Trust. Please follow the campaign to be notified the moment it goes live.
I need your support on day one to make this a smash.
Critique, the Creator
For years, I have aspired to a simple discipline for critiquing publicly: DON’T. It just never goes well when I veer off-program and issue unwanted judgement.
This ethos goes by other names: praise in public / critique in private, never punch down, and (my favorite): the man in the arena:
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming.—Teddy Roosevelt, 1910
Critique is an essential part of the creative act. It’s part of my practice. I am lucky to have many fabulous designers as friends. Hearing their pointers over the years is a chief way that I’ve improved. But all of this feedback happens in very trusted, non-public environments.
It’s with this attitude that I began teaching my first class, a six-week workshop for Cooper Union titled “principles of data graphics.” It was soon clear that my neat way of dividing the world of critique would not cut it.
Back to School
Student work, almost by definition, demands critique. Students join because they do not know everything the class has to teach. But classrooms are weird. They aren’t public. Yet, they aren’t a 1:1 trusted colleague relationship either.
So what did I do with my class? I tried Socrates by leading students to find their own good answers. We also considered open-ended no-right-answer topics. Other times, I just blurted out “here’s what I would do” and told them with confidence. (I believe I often have an answer, but rarely do I believe I have the answer. Single right answers are rare in design.)
This mix of approaches seemed productive. But they did not help me address a struggling student in obvious need of guidance—a case that can be quickly discomforting if the student is presenting a project to their classmates.
Not immediately, but by the final class, I stumbled into a phrase that helped me smooth through these situations. Here it is: It makes me want to see . . .
Whether the work is a crude draft, or a design masterpiece, a curious viewer will want to see something more. Let me show you an example.
Recently, a history map by Jason Clauss got a bunch of attention on Reddit and elsewhere. Here it is.
It colors winning parties for American presidential elections. States go up and down and time moves to the right. I particularly like how the grey fill indicates non-voting territories.
It makes me want to see if putting the state-rows in a different order would elicit different patterns.
It makes me want to see what it looks like without the color gradations.
It makes me want to see what a detailed view of just post-WW2 could look like.
This approach to critique is positive. It acknowledges the creative contribution while reflecting how it inspires the viewer.
In our final session, my students presented their final projects to the class. I asked that comments on each work begin with it makes me want to see.
This approach not only eased the critique process but also enriched it. Each comment became a stepping stone for further creativity, indicating potential next steps for eager creators.
I’m looking forward incorporating other prompts that are respectful and helpful to the creator. For example, here’s where I got stuck signals to the creator that something might be off without completely torching the work. I’m eager to learn more.
Thank you for following the Info We Trust campaign to be notified the moment it goes live.
I need your support on day one to make this a smash.
Onward!—RJ
About
Data storyteller RJ Andrews helps organizations solve high-stakes problems by using visual metaphors and information graphics: charts, diagrams, and maps. His passion is studying the history of information graphics to discover design insights. See more at infoWeTrust.com.
RJ’s recently published series, Information Graphic Visionaries, a new book series celebrating three spectacular data visualization creators. With new writing, complete visual catalogs, and discoveries never seen by the public. His first book is Info We Trust, How to Inspire the World with Data., is currently being remastered for a new edition.
Signed up for the new book campaign. Looking forward!!!