This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things

It usually starts with silence. A designer hears the brief, nods, disappears, and reemerges four days later with something beautiful, emotional, cinematic, and completely wrong.

They fell in love too early, before the idea had legs, before anyone agreed on what the thing needed to be. Now they are emotionally attached, the client is confused, the team is uncomfortable, and the rest of us are quietly preparing for a strategic exorcism.

The hard truth is this: done is better than perfect, but even earlier in the process, aligned is better than inspired. If you skip collaboration on the front end, you almost always end up rebuilding on the back end.

And look, I get it. Creatives get excited. We want to impress. We want to make something brilliant right out of the gate. But special does not always mean right, and right rarely comes from working alone in a caffeine fueled design trance with no feedback and a playlist called “Flow State Panic Mode.”

This is where pride of ownership becomes dangerous.

A designer grabs onto an idea, treats it like a precious little egg, and shields it from feedback until it hatches into a fully realized concept no one actually asked for.

And believe me, I used to do this constantly. I would go dark on a concept, fall in love with the aesthetics, and come back with something I thought was genius, only to realize it had nothing to do with what the client actually needed. Occasionally, I still catch myself doing it. The difference now is I know how to check myself, bring others in early, and let the right idea win even if it is not mine.

That is why briefs exist. That is why treatments matter. That is why “I have a vision” is not a strategy unless that vision includes a plan, buy-in, and at least one person willing to tell you it is off brand.

Over time, especially as you start working with people who are just as good or better than you, ownership begins to shift. You care deeply, but not just about your corner of the work. You care about how the whole thing performs. You want the client to understand it, the team to support it, and your motion designer to stop leaving you passive aggressive file names.

So when is it done?

It is done when it meets the brief, answers the strategy, earns a yes from your collaborators, and no longer relies on your emotional attachment to stand up. It is not done when you feel finished. It is done when it works.

Yes, we still push for the best. We advocate for smarter ideas, stronger creative, better outcomes. But we also learn when to let go, when to stop tweaking, and when to stop pretending that perfection and progress are the same thing.

Let the team make it better. Let the client take it across the finish line. Let it live in the world the way it was meant to be: thoughtful, polished, and purpose built, even if you still quietly miss your first draft that no one else liked.

Then move on and make the next thing, and maybe this time, let it be great without needing it to be yours.

Michael is the Creative Director and co-founder of FoxFuel Creative. He loves British music, vintage German cars, and American history, and his sarcasm knows no bounds. #DreamBig