I honestly can’t tell you how frustrated I sometimes felt while working on these blog posts. Not because I dislike the topic, but mostly because, in my opinion, many of the sources I found felt a bit questionable, if you know what I mean. But I guess in the design field it is often more about trying things out, practicing, and experimenting rather than about strict scientific research. At least with this topic.
But let me elaborate on this real quick.
When I started this blog, emotional design felt like a clearly defined research field with theories, frameworks, and tools that could be learned and applied. Over time, however, I realised that emotional design is much less about reaching a final answer and much more about asking the right questions. Questions about people, context, culture, and responsibility.
So with this final blog post, I want to take a step back and reflect on what working on emotional design has meant for me so far and more importantly, where this topic could lead me in the future.
What became very clear to me is that emotional design does not end with visual decisions. Colour palettes, typography, and layouts are only one part of the picture. The real challenge lies in understanding how people actually perceive these decisions and which emotions they truly evoke.
This is also where I see a lot of potential for future exploration.
One direction I would like to continue is the concept of podcast branding that I introduced in the last blog posts. So far, I approached it mainly from a theoretical and reflective design perspective. In the future, I could expand this by actively involving users. For example, I could show different visual branding concepts for a podcast to people and ask them what emotions they associate with them. Do they feel calm, curious, overwhelmed, or reassured? And do these emotions align with the intentions behind the design?
Another aspect I find especially interesting is the role of culture in emotional design. Throughout this blog, I often mentioned that emotions are shaped by personal experiences and cultural background. However, I only touched on this topic briefly. In the future, I would like to explore this more deeply.
For example, I could compare how certain colours, typographic styles, or visual metaphors are perceived by people from different cultural backgrounds. At FH JOANNEUM, this could be done by talking to international students and asking them how specific designs make them feel and why. What feels calming or trustworthy in one culture might feel boring or distant in another. Understanding these differences would be especially relevant for global brands or digital products with an international audience.
Beyond specific projects, I think emotional design will continue to shape how I approach design in general. It has made me more aware of the responsibility designers carry. Every design decision communicates something emotionally, whether intended or not. Being conscious of this does not mean overthinking every detail, but it does mean designing with care.
I do not believe that emotional design offers universal rules. Instead, it offers a mindset. A mindset that encourages designers to listen, observe, reflect, and question their own perspective. It asks not only “Does this work?” but also “How might this make someone feel?”
Looking ahead, I see emotional design as something I want to keep practising, testing, and questioning. Not as a finished skill, but as an ongoing learning process. And maybe that is the most valuable insight I take away from this blog series: emotional design is not something you ever fully master, it is something you grow with.
