«The problem with design today is connection», interview with Patrick Abbattista of DesignWanted What distinguishes true talent from someone who has simply learned to manipulate the algorithm?
Images, hyper-real renders, languages chasing one another, and communities born and dead within three scrolls. In this total overexposure, how much space do we really have left to build an identity that isn’t just a digital asset? The risk today is to confuse a project with its social content, forgetting that a recognizable aesthetic does not necessarily coincide with a clear direction. It is from this glitch that our conversation with Patrick Abbattista, founder of DesignWanted, begins. Abbattista didn’t just create a platform; he built a bridge between ideas, people, and industry, attempting to do what is perhaps the hardest thing in 2026: generating connections that don’t stop at the surface of the screen.
With him, we explored design from a hybrid perspective - between editorial and strategy - to understand what distinguishes real talent from those who have simply learned to ride the algorithm. Because if social media has made everything more visible, it hasn’t made everything clearer. If anything, the issue may not be a lack of creativity, but the difficulty of finding an authentic voice and understanding, even before deciding what to design, what kind of person one wants to be.
Do you think design has learned to communicate better, or is there still a gap between what designers create and what the public perceives?
In my opinion, most designers still haven’t really learned how to communicate. And in part, it’s understandable: those who choose to become designers do so because they want to design, not because they want to deal with communication. That said, today there are some very interesting cases of young designers who have managed to build a community around their work. I’m thinking, for example, of a close friend, Deniz Aktay, a German designer who started posting renders online during Covid and reached hundreds of thousands of followers, eventually collaborating with several companies.
However, communication is also a matter of attitude. I’m not just talking about the technical side - managing social media, producing content - but also about networking, about knowing how to move within events and within the design system. It’s something that has to come naturally if you truly want your project to be seen. So I believe there is still a lot of work to be done, but a certain gap will probably always remain: designing and communicating are two different skills, even if they are intrinsically connected.
Your background is in marketing and communication, not in design. How has this external perspective influenced the way you observe and narrate design?
Coming into design as an outsider was probably my biggest advantage. When I started, around 2008, I immediately found myself interacting with major names in the field because the editorial project I was working on had become a partner of important international realities such as the Red Dot Design Award and many others. I would sit at the same table with established designers and companies, but since I wasn’t (yet) one of them, I spoke to everyone in the same way, driven by a spontaneous curiosity. This allowed me to ask very simple, sometimes even naive questions, which often led me straight to the core of the project.
Not having a reverential fear shaped by my background and my limited knowledge of the industry’s key figures made it easier for me to create human empathy, even before professional connections. In a way, this approach has remained within DesignWanted: we never wanted to celebrate only icons or only emerging talents. We care about the project, regardless of who signs it. This creates a sort of editorial meritocracy: a young designer can be featured alongside a brand like Flos or Cassina, generating real visibility and credibility. Being a communicator allowed me to maintain a critical distance from the industry and observe it with a neutral perspective.
With the Ideas for Business format, you transformed an editorial platform into a kind of open innovation infrastructure. How important is it today to create connections between emerging designers and companies? And what are brands really looking for when they open these calls?
Ideas for Business comes from a very simple observation: there are countless ideas out there. Today, between traditional renders and artificial intelligence tools, designers are constantly producing concepts and projects. At the same time, many companies are looking for new ideas, but they don’t always know where to find them. Many designers often asked me to connect them with companies. I did when possible, but I realized there was a need to create a structured space that would allow the community to access these opportunities.
On one hand, we allow companies to connect with a global and distributed creativity. On the other, we give designers the opportunity to present their ideas to brands they would otherwise never engage with. Companies are looking for different things: new perspectives, new ideas, but also a cultural positioning. Opening an international call means showing attention toward new generations of designers and the global creative community. It means speaking to those who will be your interlocutors tomorrow.
It also allows them to receive proposals from different cultural contexts. A Brazilian designer, for example, might interpret a product or material in a completely different way compared to a European designer. This cultural contamination is extremely valuable.
Many young designers today struggle to find their place in the industry. From your privileged point of view, what qualities truly distinguish the talents who manage to emerge?
The most important quality is one: identity. The designers I’ve seen emerge had, from the very beginning, a very clear idea of who they were and the message they wanted to bring into the world. I remember two Brazilian designers I met many years ago, Rodrigo Brenner and Maurício Noronha, founders of studio Furf. When I met them, they were virtually unknown, but they had an incredible clarity in their approach. That identity has never changed over time, and today they have become a highly recognized studio.
Beyond identity, two more things are needed: perseverance and the ability to communicate oneself. In design, as in many other fields, rejection is part of the journey. The difference lies in responding constructively: understanding what didn’t work and adapting, while staying true to one’s foundational principles. Finally, there is communication. Today, whether we like it or not, when a company evaluates a designer, it often also looks at their Instagram profile or online presence to understand the overall message they convey. If you are not visible in some way, you risk being nonexistent. And how can you collaborate with someone you don’t even know exists?
In recent years, design has become increasingly visible across media and social platforms. Do you think this exposure has truly expanded the culture of design, or does it risk turning it into a purely aesthetic experience to be consumed quickly?
Like everything, it comes with pros and cons. When I started working in design, many people thought design was something strange and expensive. In reality, design is project, function, aesthetics, but not only aesthetics. Social media has helped spread design and make it more accessible. The problem is that social platforms are inherently visual and two-dimensional, so what people often receive is only the image of the product.
This is why we need editorial platforms capable of telling the story of a project in depth. Showing an object is not enough: we need to explain why it exists, how it develops, what problem it solves, or what opportunity it creates. Ultimately, design is above all a matter of empathy. From my point of view, great designers have the extraordinary ability to put themselves in other people’s shoes. This is what makes a project truly timeless, because it becomes an expression and a tool of a collective, not just an exercise in style.
If you had to imagine the future of design media over the next ten years, what role do you think they will play in shaping the direction of contemporary design?
It’s difficult to make predictions because technology constantly changes how we communicate. New platforms generate new languages and formats: TikTok is a clear example from recent years. What I sense is that the physical dimension will regain importance. Smaller events, more targeted moments of interaction, perhaps even printed publications, but created with a clear purpose, not simply to produce paper.
In any case, I believe the issue is not so much about the channels, but about why we communicate. Channels will keep changing, but the core question remains the same: what is the message and why are we sharing it? If we lose sight of this, we risk creating only noise. I’m interested in sound, not noise. If tomorrow the best way to connect with the community is a physical event or a new platform, I will adapt. What matters is that human and empathetic connection remains at the core of design.
In the end, Abbattista’s takeaway is clear: having great ideas is no longer enough. And, spoiler, knowing how to package them well for Instagram isn’t enough either. In a landscape saturated with references and already-traveled trajectories, the difference lies in the ability to build presence and intention, and design returns to being a practice that demands real presence. It is not a matter of style or online performance, but of focus and empathy. Patrick Abbattista brings back to the center words that may sound less “glamorous” but are decisive: identity, prototype, connection. That kind of thing that smells like workshops, like hands touching materials, like mistakes made in real life.
