What if the most radical thing a designer can do right now is make something that looks... a bit rough?
We're living through a moment where AI can generate flawless layouts, perfect illustrations, and seamless animations in seconds. Polish has never been cheaper. And that's exactly why imperfection is becoming valuable again.
What happened
Three things caught my eye this week, and they're all pulling in the same direction.
First, Canva — yes, the platform synonymous with templates and drag-and-drop ease — has launched a new ad campaign built entirely around handcrafted, deliberately imperfect animation. No sleek motion graphics. No pixel-perfect renders. Instead, lo-fi, tactile, slightly wobbly work that celebrates the human hand behind the creative. It's a pointed statement from a company that could easily have leaned further into AI-generated polish.
Second, the rebrand of willhaben (Austria's biggest classifieds platform) is getting attention — not for being bold or disruptive, but for being restrained. The design team chose to evolve what already worked rather than tear it down and start fresh. The boldest move was knowing what not to change.
And third, a thoughtful argument for rethinking system-level tools is making the rounds — the kind of utilitarian, behind-the-scenes interfaces designers often ignore. The core idea: if people have to interact with it, it's part of the experience. Full stop.
The bigger picture
Here's the thread connecting all three: we're entering an era where AI makes the default output... fine. Good, even. Polished, consistent, competent.
And "competent" is becoming the new mediocre.
When every startup can generate a brand identity in an afternoon, when every SaaS product can auto-generate a slick onboarding flow, when every social post can be visually "on brand" without a designer touching it — polish stops being a differentiator. It becomes wallpaper.
Canva's campaign is smart because it runs directly against this current. By championing the handmade, they're signalling something important: the value isn't in the output being flawless. It's in the output feeling made. There's a difference between something that's been designed and something that's been generated — and audiences are starting to sense it, even if they can't articulate why.
The willhaben rebrand makes a similar point from a different angle. AI tools make it trivially easy to explore radical redesigns. You can generate hundreds of logo variations before lunch. But the discipline of restraint — recognising what's already working and choosing to build on it rather than replace it — that's a deeply human design skill. It requires judgement, context, and empathy with your audience. It's the kind of decision AI simply can't make for you.
And the system tools argument extends this further. As AI gets embedded into more of our workflows — design systems, developer tools, internal dashboards — there's a temptation to let those layers stay ugly and utilitarian because "nobody sees them." But people do see them. People use them every day. If we hand off the design of those touchpoints to automation without care, we're creating friction in exactly the places where it hurts most.
Tool spotlight
This isn't about a single tool — it's about a practice. I'd call it intentional imperfection, and it's worth building into your process.
Next time you're working with AI-generated assets — whether that's imagery, layouts, copy, or animation — try running a quick "humanity pass" before shipping. Ask yourself: where can I add a rough edge? A hand-drawn element? An unexpected texture? A bit of visual warmth that says a person made this choice?
If you want a concrete starting point, Rive is brilliant for creating expressive, handcrafted animations that feel alive in a way procedurally generated motion rarely does. It's particularly useful for UI animation and interactive design, and it gives you the control to inject personality that AI-generated motion tends to flatten out. It won't do the thinking for you — but that's the point.
The goal isn't to reject AI tools. It's to use them as a starting point, then layer in the human decisions that make the work distinctive.
Takeaway
Polish is abundant. Restraint is rare. And the messy, human, intentional choices you make as a designer — what to leave rough, what to keep, what to care about even when nobody's "supposed" to see it — those are becoming your most valuable skills.
So next time AI hands you something perfect, ask yourself: would this actually be better with a rough edge?
Most of the time, the answer's yes.