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Nobody cares how good you are at Figma

Personas. Wireframes. Figma. I had the craft. Then a real strategy problem hit my desk — and I realised craft isn't the same as thinking. A reflection on the ceiling every experienced designer eventually meets.

Om Kumar
Om Kumar
Author
May 13, 2026
22 views 8 min read

ChatGPT Image May 13, 2026, 05_01_37 PM.png



A new problem statement landed on my desk last week.

It wasn't a screen to redesign. It wasn't a flow to fix. It wasn't even a research project in the usual sense.

 

The product was already built. Design done. Development done. Sitting there, ready to meet real users.

 

And the ask was this:

"We have a career counselling bot. We need to pilot it on-ground across India. 3000+ UG students, multiple states, 40 course streams and many more. Tell us how. Build us the strategy."

 

And I froze.

 

For context: I'm not new to this. I've spent years doing on-ground user research across 11–12 states and 250+ districts — solo, across healthcare, education, justice, service delivery, agriculture, women's empowerment. I know context. I know users. I know how to read a room that doesn't share my language or my assumptions.

 

So this wasn't a freeze of inexperience. It was a freeze of recognition — that the question being asked wasn't the kind of question I'd ever been formally trained to answer.

 

The ask wasn't "go discover something."

 

The ask was "now that we've built it, test & prove it works — at scale, across diversity, with metrics attached."

 

Different muscle entirely.

 

Being good at Figma doesn't make you good at strategy

 

Here's what I've realised about my own work:

 

I'm great at two ends — the deep, contextual research at the start, and the executional craft at the finish. Wireframes, flows, prototypes, Figma. I can do both confidently.

 

But the bit after the product is built, before it scales — the validation strategy — I'd never owned end-to-end.

 

Discovery research, I know.

 

Usability testing on a wireframe, I know.

 

But designing a pilot for a finished product — one that has to survive contact with 4,000 students across 40 streams and test & prove it actually works for all of them, not just for English-speaking metro kids — that's a strategy job, not a design job. And nobody had taught me to do it.

 

I'd been calling myself a designer-researcher. Someone else had always defined the what gets validated and the what counts as success. I'd shown up brilliantly for the how.

 

Are you hiding behind your Figma file?

 

The more I sat with it, the more I realised the strategy had to answer three questions — and answer them in a way that connected. Not three separate exercises. One coherent thing.

 

Pillar 1: Who exactly are we validating this with?

 

The product was already built for "students." But that's a meaningless category at this scale.

 

I had to build a persona framework that was actually useful for validation, not pretty for slides. Seekers, Builders, Deciders — mapped to academic year, mapped to specific pain points. A first-year B.A. student who feels she's in the wrong course is a completely different validation case than a third-year Btech student a month away from placement. If the product works for one and fails the other, that's not "a 50% success rate" — that's a critical insight about who the product is actually ready for.

 

Personas as the unit of validation. Not decoration.

 

Pillar 2: How broadly do we have to test it for the answer to be honest?

 

If the pilot accidentally only captures English-speaking metro students from one or two cities, the data lies. We'd celebrate a "successful pilot" that would fall apart the moment the product hit a Tier-3 college in Bihar.

 

So I had to design diversity coverage deliberately — stratified sampling across geography, language, gender, urban vs rural, institution type, and course stream. 4,000 students, 40 course strata, mapped to real enrolment ratios from AISHE data. Not "let's get a diverse sample" as a value statement — here's the structure that forces diversity into the sample whether we like it or not.

 

Diversity as a sampling constraint. Not a sentiment.

 

Pillar 3: What does "the product approach works" actually mean?

 

Not "users liked it." That's the most useless metric in product validation.

 

I had to define concrete success thresholds — psychometric completion rates, average message depth per persona, pivot clarity for the "accidental student" segment, recommendation satisfaction above 85%. Tied to personas. Tied to the things the product was claiming it could do.

 

If we hit these, the approach scales. If we don't, we know exactly which persona, which stream, which geography it failed in — and what to fix next.

 

Success as a falsifiable claim. Not a vibe.

Here is the doc if someone really wants to get into it <Pilot Strategy>
 

I knew how to do every individual piece of this. What I didn't know was how to weave the three pillars into one coherent validation strategy that a business team could fund and a partner team could execute.

 

That's the gap. Not skill. Synthesis.

 

Nobody teaches the part that actually matters

 

Think about how most of us grow as designers — even those of us with deep research backgrounds.

 

Bootcamps, internships, projects, even years of fieldwork — they teach you the craft. How to interview. How to synthesise. How to wireframe. How to prototype. How to push pixels until they're crisp.

 

Nobody runs a course called "How to take a finished product and design the strategy that proves it works at scale."

 

Because that part isn't a tutorial. It's a muscle. And you only build it by doing it badly a few times first.

 

The result is a generation of designers — including senior ones — who can produce beautiful deliverables, who can run beautiful research, but who still go quiet the moment someone asks:

 

• Who exactly are we validating this with, and why those people?

• How broadly do we have to test it before we trust the answer?

• What would tell us the product approach doesn't work — and for whom?

 

These aren't research questions. They aren't Figma questions. They're strategy questions.

 

Five things I had to learn the hard way

 

I didn't get the pilot strategy right on the first try. I rewrote sections, threw out frameworks, restructured the persona matrix three times. But here's what came out of the discomfort:

 

1. A pilot brief isn't a brief. It's a starting point.

 

I used to wait for the problem to be handed to me, fully formed. The pilot taught me the first job is to reframe it. The ask said "test the bot." The real question was: test it with whom, why those people, and what would actually convince us — and our partners — that it works at scale? Half my value wasn't in the answer. It was in sharpening the question before anyone touched the field.

 

2. Personas are not a deliverable. They are a decision-making tool.

 

I'd been making personas the way I was taught — name, age, photo, frustrations, goals. Pretty slides. Nobody used them after the workshop.

 

This time I had to build personas that drove sampling decisions and success metrics. "The Accidental Student" wasn't a poster — it was a category that determined how many B.A. first-years we needed, what we'd ask them, and what counted as the pilot succeeding for them specifically. Personas as infrastructure, not decoration.

 

3. A pilot is just a hypothesis with a deadline.

 

A pilot is:

We believe the product works for X.

If that's true, then Y will happen with Z group of users.

Here's the smallest, cleanest way to find out.

(X,Y are just parameters) 

The product was already built. The pilot's job wasn't to discover — it was to prove. And the structure of a "prove it" study is different from a "find out" study. Different sample sizes. Different metrics. Different thresholds.

 

4. Strategy is just choosing what NOT to do.

 

I could have sampled 10,000 students. I could have tested every course in India. I could have measured 30 metrics. Instead I had to cut down to 4,000 students, 40 strata, these specific KPIs, these specific success thresholds. Strategy isn't writing a long deck. It's saying: of the 10 directions we could go, here are 9 we're not, and why.

 

5. The deliverable is the conversation, not the file.

 

A pilot doc that changes how the team thinks about scaling matters more than a beautiful prototype nobody acts on. The doc isn't the point. The decision it unlocks is.

 

Your craft is what got you in. It won't get you out.

 

Here's the uncomfortable part: the skills that got me hired and respected are the same skills that will keep me at the same level forever if I don't grow past them.

 

The people who get pulled into rooms where pilots get designed, who get asked "how do we scale this responsibly?" instead of "can you design this screen?" — they aren't the ones with the cleanest Figma files. They aren't even the ones with the deepest research portfolios.

 

They're the ones who can sit with an undefined problem, push back on the question, propose an approach, and own the outcome.

 

That's the skill I'm trying to build now.

 

Not better personas. Not cleaner Figma. Not even sharper field notes.

 

But the muscle of thinking before designing. Of strategising before researching. Of being comfortable in the fog before the path becomes clear.

 

The job is to think. Figma just shows the thinking.

 

The next time a vague problem lands on my desk, I want to stop reaching for my familiar tools first — neither Figma nor a discussion guide.

 

I want to ask better questions before I open any file. I want to write the hypothesis before I sketch the screen, plan the sample, or draft the interview. I want to define what success looks like before I worry about what it looks like visually or contextually.

 

Because I'm slowly realising — the title might say "UX Designer", but the job, the real job, is to think. Figma helps me show my thinking. Field research deepens it. But neither is the thinking.

 

And if I can't think clearly without those tools, then maybe I'm not designing yet.

 

Maybe I'm just decorating.

 

P.S. — If you're a designer reading this with years of craft behind you and any of it sounded familiar: you're not behind. You're at the exact ceiling that experienced executor-level designers hit before they grow into strategists. The discomfort is the point. Sit with it.

I'm also excited to see how my pilot strategy will boom on ground, what I will be able to capture from that. Stay Tuned!!!

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  • Insha Naseem
    Insha Naseem5/13/2026

    Amazing thoughts, designing on figma may feel a lot to people however real user's behaviour is imp!

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