This often comes at the cost of real user-centered design.
We like to think we design for people, but this belief covers up the real purpose of UX today.
We claim our work is user-centered, human-first, and built on empathy. This idea has made us feel good about design for years. But this story no longer matches what we see today. The gap between what we intend and what actually happens has grown. In reality, we’re not really designing for people anymore.
We design with shareholders in mind. Every interface, flow, and so-called ‘delightful’ interaction serves one main purpose. Not usability. Not even user satisfaction. But performance.
- Did it increase engagement?
- Did it increase conversion?
- Did it increase revenue?
These are the questions that define success now. Everything else is less important. We need to be honest with ourselves. Human-Centered Design didn’t fail. It was absorbed. It became part of a system whose meaning changed. Now, ‘user needs’ are seen as behaviors to monetize, ‘friction’ means lost revenue, and ‘attention’ is treated as something to extract.
What started as a way to serve people has become a way to optimize people themselves.
And we got better. Much better at optimizing for business objectives.
- We removed friction.
- We streamlined journeys.
- We personalized everything.
- We made products faster, smoother, and more intuitive.
But by doing this, we also made something else possible. Now, products are better at taking value from people’s actions.
The most dangerous products in the world are not badly designed.
They are beautifully designed.
- Elegant.
- Intuitive.
- Addictive.
This didn’t happen by accident. It’s not just an unintended side effect. It was designed to do exactly what was intended. Because the real brief was never:
“Help humans thrive.”
It was:
“Help the business grow.”
And as we’re starting to realize, growth always comes at a cost. That cost isn’t just an idea anymore.
Now, we can see the cost in the systems we use every day: endless scrolling that eats up our attention, notifications designed to make us feel urgent or anxious, and consumption patterns that go far beyond what the planet can handle.
We designed it this way. Design is not neutral. It never has been. Every decision we make carries weight. It nudges behavior. It shapes habits. It scales consequences. And yet, the way we measure success has barely changed.
We still rely on metrics like:
- Daily Active Users (DAU)
- Monthly Active Users (MAU)
- Retention rates
- Revenue growth
These numbers tell us how well a system performs.
But they tell us nothing about what that system does to people.
They don’t measure:
- well-being
- sustainability
- long-term impact
So here’s the uncomfortable question we rarely ask:
If your product succeeds, what fails? Because something always pays the price.
If not the user, then:
- their attention
- their mental health
- their time
And if not them, then:
- society
- the environment
- future generations
This is the trade-off we haven’t wanted to face. The truth is simple: good design alone isn’t enough. When good design is aimed at the wrong goals, it can:
- accelerate harm
- scale addiction
- normalize extraction
As we improve at design, the harm can grow even faster. The real challenge isn’t just making more ‘good design.’ It’s about changing what ‘good’ really means.
We need responsible design that asks:
What happens over time?
What behaviors are we encouraging?
Who else is affected?
Who pays the hidden cost?
And most importantly: Who is this really for?
Because if the honest answer is: “Shareholders.”
Let’s be honest: we’re designing for profit, not for people. Until we change our purpose, our work will continue to create experiences that serve money rather than real human benefit. Only by changing our goals can design truly serve people.
