Design in the Crosshairs: A Candid Conversation on the TDC’s Reckoning and Renewal

By Agyei Archer
January 26, 2021

Social media has fundamentally altered the landscape of discourse, turning complex industry critiques into rapid-fire, binary escalations. Within the insular world of typography and design, this often results in a flattening of nuance, where the structural failures of long-standing institutions are simplified into popular outrage. However, beneath the surface of trending hashtags and Twitter threads lies a more profound, difficult conversation about the responsibility of design organizations in an era of global social upheaval.

To better understand this, I sat down with Elizabeth Carey Smith, a New York-based design director and former president of the Type Directors Club (TDC). In an industry suddenly forced to confront its own complicity in systemic inequality, Carey Smith found herself at the helm of an organization undergoing a painful, public, and necessary transformation.

The Container: A Moment of Institutional Crisis

The spring of 2020 served as a catalyst for a global re-evaluation of institutions. Following the death of George Floyd, the design industry—like many other sectors—faced a wave of intense scrutiny regarding its lack of diversity and its historical adherence to Eurocentric standards. For Carey Smith, the timing of her presidency at the TDC was deeply fraught. She assumed leadership during a period when the organization was already battling financial instability and a shifting cultural tide.

“When George Floyd was killed, I really didn’t give a fuck about typography,” Carey Smith admits. Her perspective reflects a growing sentiment among designers who have long criticized the industry’s tendency toward self-inflation and "navel-gazing." For Carey Smith, the performative activism of many design organizations felt hollow. She argues that design is a tool of communication, not a substitute for political activism, and she remained wary of institutions attempting to leverage social justice to mask their own internal failures.

Chronology: The Road to Restructuring

The turmoil within the TDC was not a sudden explosion, but a series of overlapping crises that tested the limits of the board’s capacity.

• Pre-March 2020: The TDC was already struggling with the financial realities of a non-profit model, including the high overhead of maintaining a physical space in New York City.
• March–May 2020: The onset of the COVID-19 pandemic forced the cancellation of key revenue-generating events, including the annual conference.
• June 2020: In the wake of national protests against systemic racism, the TDC faced intense pressure to address its lack of diversity. Tensions escalated when board member Juan Villanueva resigned, posting an open letter on Medium that crystallized the frustration felt by many BIPOC designers within the industry.
• July 2020: The board attempted to navigate the crisis while simultaneously managing the departure of staff and the dissolution of their physical archive space.
• Late 2020: The TDC reached an agreement to merge with The One Club for Creativity, a move designed to provide the infrastructure and resources necessary for the organization’s survival.

Supporting Data: The Cost of Legacy

The criticism leveled against the TDC was, in many ways, a critique of the "old guard" of design. The organization had relied on a membership model that many found exclusionary and a leadership structure that, until recently, did not reflect the global demographic of the design community.

Carey Smith notes that the board’s efforts to pivot—such as proposing lower-tier memberships—were often met with skepticism or seen as "too little, too late." The irony, she points out, is that the organization was actually more diverse than the public perceived. By the time of the merger, the board consisted of nearly 50% women and 50% people of color. The failure, she concedes, was one of communication: "We didn’t communicate that very well, because obviously, when push came to shove, people thought that we were just a board of paid white men."

Furthermore, the "standoffish" nature of the typographic community, often characterized by gatekeeping and academic elitism, created an environment where young or marginalized designers felt unwelcome. This exclusionary culture, Carey Smith argues, is not just a TDC problem; it is an industry-wide symptom that demands a shift in how design education and professional networking are conducted.

Official Responses and Internal Tensions

One of the most challenging aspects of the TDC’s transition was managing the response to the resignation of Juan Villanueva. Carey Smith emphasizes that the board was genuinely blindsided by the public nature of the resignation, noting that internal dialogue had been ongoing.

"I wish we’d had a chance to resolve those differences," she reflects. "I failed at an intersectionality that I thought I possessed." The conflict highlights a recurring issue in non-profit leadership: the emotional labor required to hold an organization together while simultaneously attempting to dismantle the very structures that have historically marginalized its members.

When asked about the "Black agenda" for the organization, Carey Smith is refreshingly candid about the limitations of quick fixes. She suggests that true representation won’t come from top-down diversity mandates, but from cultivating an interest in letters and design within younger populations, particularly in communities of color where design is often viewed as a non-lucrative or inaccessible career path.

"I don’t want to use the word blessing," she says regarding her outreach goals. "But that’s the part that makes me smile about all of it. The rest of it is a shit show."

Implications: The Future of Design Institutions

The merger with The One Club represents a lifeline for the TDC, but it also raises questions about the future of independent design organizations. By integrating into a larger infrastructure, the TDC gains access to legal and accounting resources, but it must now navigate the tension between maintaining its specific, "stodgy" legacy and evolving into a more inclusive, modern entity.

The implications for the broader design industry are clear:

1. Transparency is Mandatory: Organizations can no longer hide behind traditional legacy status. Financial decisions, membership barriers, and leadership demographics must be transparent.
2. Move Beyond Performative Statements: The rapid "statement-writing" that occurred in the summer of 2020 proved ineffective. The industry demands action—such as the creation of scholarships, the diversification of juries, and the democratization of educational resources.
3. Address the Gatekeepers: The "standoffish" nature of typography must be replaced by intentional mentorship. The "velvet rope" approach to industry experts must be abolished in favor of accessible, public-facing programming.

Carey Smith’s current focus is on "listening more," a resolution that seems apt for an industry that has spent far too long talking over the voices it claims to serve. The path forward for the Type Directors Club, and for the design world at large, will not be paved with press releases, but with the slow, difficult work of rebuilding trust.

As we look toward the future, the TDC serves as a microcosm for the industry. If it can successfully transition from an exclusionary, legacy-bound club into a global educational resource, it may offer a blueprint for others. If it fails to shed its past, it will simply be another relic of an era that the design community is collectively trying to leave behind.

"Getting grandpa to change is a slower turn," Carey Smith admits. But in an industry that prides itself on innovation, perhaps it is time to apply that same creative rigor to the systems that govern us. The "shit show," as she calls it, is not going away, but for the first time in a century, the industry is finally, painfully, paying attention.