Rachel and Charles look back at the first 50 Design Goggles podcasts. We chat about the beginnings of the show, and how it evolved into a chat about design, how it shaped Seattle, the world, and our future.

Whether it’s an abstract collection of geographic shapes, or a photo-realistic montage, murals are everywhere you look in Seattle, big and small. Some take planning and execution, and others happen organically. There are some, though, that transcend what we think of as public art, ones that become a part of Seattle’s consciousness. One of those murals is on the wall of a famous music venue here, called Neumos. Every month, the mural is painted over, again and again, each one more fantastic than the next. This mural is maintained by a collection of artists, and to them, the city is their art gallery.

Not too long ago, there were (mostly male) Master Architects, moonlighting as professors, criticizing student work a few times a week, while students scrambled 23 hours a day to understand the architectural movement of the era. It was the Beaux Arts back in the late 1800s, Bauhaus and Modernism in the early 1900s, then Postmodernism, Deconstructionism, and Minimalism following, late into the century. Lately, though in the 21st century, design movements have faded, giving way to values-driven design, unlocked by constantly evolving digital technology has been the catalyst for a sea change in architectural education.

Design can make a statement. Sometimes it’s a statement that’s open to interpretation, something that reminds us of a feeling, or inspires us. Other times, the statement is clear and intentional, and the designer’s intent is transparent. In an age where we can connect directly with our audience, what does it mean when we want our message heard? How can we communicate our values to the world, while activating grassroots movements? When we wish to design according to our values, how can we be sure that our efforts aren’t invisible?

The design community in Seattle, and others across the country, are attempting to resolve their civic present with their urban future. It’s up to architects, planners, developers, and designers to listen to communities and shape the city to serve its people. But what does that mean when some see downtown Seattle as a response only to tourism and the bridge and ferry crowd? How do we develop and preserve Seattle’s unique nightlife along with the exponentially growing transportation demands? More importantly, how do we retain the natural beauty of our city and still, literally, reach for the sky with the office spaces of the future?

The aggressive, angular, stainless steel wedge on wheels looks like something out of a science fiction movie. To say it’s polarizing is an understatement. People love, hate it, are scared by it, excited by it, some think it’s one of the worst automobiles ever designed, and others look at it and see the future. One thing is for certain: Tesla, known in many circles for design innovation, has not disappointed in pushing the envelope when it comes to design norms. The Cybertruck could have huge implications for the design world, and not just when it comes to cars.

3D rendering technology, 3D printers, CNC Routers, inexpensive recycled materials, and a whole new generation of open-minded designers and clients have led to an era where experimentation is celebrated, but tricky. Now that architecture firms can start to create some of their own built elements, what are the consequences for designers presenting themselves as makers? What are the pitfalls of this new era of experimentation, where architects can iterate at blinding speed? Do we sacrifice quality for quantity? Or are more iterations, faster, actually better?

Coffee: it’s as much a part of the identity of the city of Seattle as Puget Sound, salmon, the Seahawks, or the Space Needle. On top of that, it’s fair to say that coffee culture is everywhere in Seattle, and the design of each shop is as unique as the roasting and blending techniques of the beans consumed there. Now, besides the physical spaces themselves, there is a lot of thought and design being put into the process by which that coffee gets across the world, to the shop, and into your cup. And even in the “fair trade” era, so to speak, that process might surprise you.

“One-Off,” “Limited Edition,” “Here for a limited time only!” — if you follow design, you’ve likely been seeing these phrases a lot lately. There is a premium placed on design that is “of the moment” and then it’s gone. This so-called “short-run trend” is sticking around more than the designs that comprise it — what is the consequence of that? Without “design movements” that cross years, disciplines, even generations, embedding deeply in society and culture, what is left? Where do we go from here?

“Tactical Urbanism” is really just a fancy phrase for temporary installations in civic public areas. But what might seem like a simple change to your sidewalk or street for a few days can have a lasting impact on how our cities evolve, and how we inform the civic spaces of the future.

History is filled with designers telling people how to live. And just as much, with people living however they please, no matter what designers say. This conflict between the creators of space and the people who inhabit those spaces goes on today. Is that tension productive? Are designers and architects learning the lessons of yesterday, or just repeating them? Do any of us really know how people will use the spaces we create, even with the best of intentions?