A Note About Rhino Skin

Every sensitive creative gets the same advice at some point: "grow a thicker skin."

What people usually mean by that is…care less. And I get it, I guess, but that advice has a problem, in my opinion. Caring is literally the job. The wiring that makes a critique hurt is the same wiring that notices bad kerning from across the room and has a visceral reaction to an ugly color palette or can feel in their soul when a brand is lying to itself (and audience) about who they are. If you shut that off to protect yourself, the work will get worse.

So I personally don't advise designers to grow thicker skin. I suggest that they grow rhino skin. Slightly different thing. It took me years and a couple of scars to figure out the difference.

Battle scars

In year one of my career, a manager questioned a logo I made. It was, looking back, an objectively bad logo. First-year-designer bad. Didn't matter. I was embarrassed, it stung, and I'm pretty sure I cried in my car about it later. Over a really bad logo that deserved every bit of the critique.

Year three, the cut went a lot deeper. A manager, the person who was supposed to be mentoring me, told me I didn't have critical thinking skills. Out of nowhere. It was just mean. I was young and didn't know how to push back or even ask a clarifying question yet, so I cowered. Then I carried that sentence around for years. Actually…now that I'm writing this…this one might be more of a therapy thing more than a rhino skin thing. Noting that. Anyway…

If someone said that to me today, it would be a very different conversation. But it took a long time to become the person who could have that conversation. All part of the process.

Unfortunately, I'm not a rhino

Sad to tell ya there wasn't a moment when it all clicked and suddenly I became a tough, grey mammal with a horn protruding from my forehead. It was much more slow and unglamorous. And I'm still human.

What actually moved the needle was finally having a great manager. Someone who didn't talk down to me, who let me be myself, and helped me build confidence in my work. Not without a little red pen slashing first. But that's when it started to sink in that I'm not my work.

I made it and I care about it. I put a lot of hours and real taste into it. I loved the process and felt close to the final output. It's still not me. Feedback on the work is information about the work. That's it.

What rhino skin actually is

Fun fact about rhinos. Their skin is thick, but the animal underneath still feels stuff.

Biiiiingo, that's the idea. Rhino skin is a small and deliberate gap between you and the thing you made. The feedback will always show up (more on that here) and you still hear all of it. Some of it still stings for a minute, because you're human. But it lands on the work instead of on you, and the work can take it.

How it grows

Reps.

Eghhh…Sorry, but that's the answer.

I'm a sensitive person and I can deal with anxiety, so walking into a review is still a little nerve wracking, even 13 years in. But after you survive enough of them, you get better at it. You have to practice talking about your work, explaining your decisions, answering a stakeholder's doubts, preferably before they've finished forming them. And somewhere in all those reps and all that practice, the thing you're presenting stops being your art and starts being your work.

That reframe did more for me than any pep talk ever could have. Art is an extension of you. Work is something you made on purpose, for a reason, and it can be discussed, defended, and yes... changed.

Sensitivity is a feature

Sometimes I joke that I have a sixth sense or that I can read minds. Put me in a kickoff call and there's a good chance I walk out with a crystal clear picture of what the client actually wants including the stuff they don't know they want.

That comes from sensitivity and empathy…and experience. Knowing the questions to ask, what to dig in on, and a teeny bit of intuition. The exact wiring that had me crying in my car in year one is what makes clients feel understood in year thirteen. It's a superpower, if you can control it.

What I tell designers now

I had this conversation with a coworker recently, and it's the same thing I tell every creative if this conversation comes up.

Critiques will exist at every single job you ever have. Some places have kinder people and better culture, so it won't sting as much. It never goes away completely, though. And if you don't grow rhino skin, the stings add up, and that's how you turn into the mean grouchy designer who won't collaborate with anyone. I've watched it happen. The grouches usually weren't bad people. They were sensitive people who never figured out how to protect it.

So protect it. Your sensitivity is the reason you'll be good at this. The rhino skin is just so you get to keep doing it.