Brand Strategy For Designers: How to Get Started (Part 1)
Chris Do explains how designers can transition to brand strategy by focusing on user empathy, business goals, and a shared definition of value.
Chris Do
Founder, The Futur™ · February 27, 2024
Your Title is a Lie
Most designers who claim to “do branding” are lying. Not maliciously, but out of a fundamental misunderstanding of the term. They deliver identity systems, color palettes, and logos. They make things look good.
That is not brand strategy.
Chris Do, founder of The Futur, is blunt about this distinction. “If you don't shape the entire customer experience from point A to point B, then you're not really doing branding,” he states. “You're using that as a buzzword because you think you can charge more money.”
Products are made in factories, but brands are built in the hearts and minds of people. Brand strategy is the discipline of influencing those hearts and minds. It’s about shaping perceptions, building reputations, and managing expectations.
It’s about doing something important. It’s about shaping the company. For designers trapped in a cycle of production, making things pretty on command, the move to strategy can feel like a mystifying leap. But it’s a leap an ambitious creative must make to move from hired hand to trusted partner.
The Spark of Strategic Envy
For Do, the journey began with a mix of awe and jealousy. He observed the work of Yo Santosa, an ArtCenter College of Design graduate like himself, who was executing work that transcended typical graphic design.
Santosa, through her agency Ferroconcrete, was behind the explosive launch of Pinkberry in the early 2000s. She wasn’t just designing a logo for a frozen yogurt shop. She was crafting an entire world.
“For a very long time, we were a design production company,” Do recalls. “We worked with advertising agencies. They did the strategy, they would write the copy, we would figure out creative ways to bring that to life in video and animation. But we didn't do the strategic part.”
Santosa did. She took inspiration from high-end cosmetics, creating a look for Pinkberry that was clean, white, minimal, and luxurious. The photography, the store signage, even the website copy was infused with a unique voice. Instead of a sign that read “Open 11-11,” Pinkberry’s said, “Swirling daily.”
Do was captivated. “I was just like, this is so cool...how are you doing this?” he remembers. “It was so mysterious and so sexy. I’m like, I want that.” He even interviewed Santosa, hoping to uncover her secret recipe, but found she struggled to articulate her process. It was intuitive, a natural extension of her talent.
This is a common roadblock. The most gifted practitioners often can’t explain their magic. For a logical, systems-thinker like Do, that wasn't enough. He needed to find the framework, to deconstruct the magic and turn it into a repeatable process.
The User Experience Breakthrough
The first piece of the puzzle came from an unexpected source: the world of user experience (UX) design. Do met Jose Caballer, a practitioner from the Silicon Valley startup scene, who introduced him to a new way of thinking.
Caballer showed him a framework he co-developed called CORE. The framework positioned their work at the intersection of three circles: the brand, the user, and the business goals. For Do, who had spent nearly two decades in design, one part of this equation was a revelation.
“I didn't understand that we're designing for someone,” he admits. This is the critical blind spot for many purely aesthetic designers.
Caballer introduced the concept of a user profile. Before building a website or an app, you must define, with granular detail, who will be using it. You don't just design for the end-user. You might design different portals or experiences for administrators, content creators, travel agents, or internal partners.
The big insight was simple but profound: when you design for a specific someone, it fundamentally shapes every decision you make. It transforms design from an act of self-expression into an act of service.
This was the antidote to what Do calls “digital brochures,” beautifully designed but ultimately useless websites he was ashamed to have created in the past. With a user-centric approach, he could suddenly develop features, functions, and tools that had a purpose. It felt empowering.
A Foundational Shift in Philosophy
While the CORE framework was a massive step forward, Do immediately saw a way to make it even more powerful. Caballer's process typically started with defining the brand’s voice, tone, and culture. Do disagreed with the starting point.
“Shouldn't we be focused on the user first?” he argued. This wasn’t just a minor shuffle of steps. For Do, it was a seismic philosophical shift.
His reasoning was simple and irrefutable.
- It is much easier for a brand to understand the needs of its users and create products and services for them.
- It is much harder to have a pre-existing product and then go searching for users to buy it.
Starting with the user changes everything. It forces the business to orient itself around solving a customer’s problem, not just pushing its own agenda. This small reordering of priorities is the dividing line between a company that serves itself and a company that serves its market. It’s the foundation of true brand strategy.
The Strategist in the Room: A Case Study
Armed with this new philosophy, Do took a risk. He started telling people he did brand strategy. Soon enough, a client called. He was hired, and then, as he puts it, he began to “panic and break out in a cold sweat.”
The client was an IT expense management company called Tango. They helped large corporations manage the thousands of cell phones, laptops, and data plans used by their employees, plugging financial leaks. It was the first time Do was running a strategy engagement on his own.
The process involved a full-day workshop with executives who had flown in from across the country. The pressure was immense. In that room, two critical insights emerged that would define the entire project.
The first came after hours of the executives speaking in acronyms and impenetrable jargon. Do’s mind was about to explode. He couldn't build a brand from language he didn't understand. He had to make a choice: pretend to get it and risk failure, or admit his own ignorance.
He chose vulnerability. “I raised my hand,” he recounts. “I said, ‘Hey everybody, you guys are talking inside baseball. I do not know what you're talking about. You need to explain this to me like I'm your mom or a fifth grader.’”
He told them, “I suspect you're having problems with your website, with your identity, with your communication, because you're speaking very inside baseball. No one understands.”
The tension in the room broke. The executives laughed, a wave of relief washing over them. Do had released a pressure valve they didn't even know was sealed shut. This is a core lesson for any aspiring strategist: your bravery in admitting what you don't know is a tool to force clarity.
The Chief Revenue Officer eventually distilled their complex service into one simple sentence: “Chris, I don't know, man. What we do is not sexy, but what we do is we save people money.”
That was the first pillar of the strategy.
The second insight was more profound. As they worked to define Tango's ideal customer, a disturbing attitude surfaced. The executives spoke of their clients, the IT managers, with disdain. They were a “necessary evil” who got in the way. It’s a toxic and surprisingly common perspective, as many creatives view their own clients as obstacles. This adversarial mindset prevents great work, a concept Do has explored when talking about the art of communication.
Do pushed them to reframe their perspective. At the core of every 21st-century business is the IT person. They are blamed for everything and get credit for nothing. They are maligned and looked down upon. Do proposed a new view.
“They're not just the hero of every operation,” he told the room. “They're the superhero.”
The energy shifted again. Disdain was replaced by deep empathy and gratitude. The executives finally saw their customers not as a problem to be managed, but as a hero to be served. This became the second, more powerful pillar of the strategy.
From Insight to Execution: Building the Brand
These two insights, saving money and championing the IT superhero, drove every creative decision that followed. The project demonstrates how strategy directly informs execution.
The designer on Do’s team, Emily, had developed a variety of logo options. Do spotted one with potential and had her modify the descender of the letter ‘g’, cutting it off to create a sharp, stylized line.
In the presentation, he connected this abstract design choice directly to the client’s core value proposition. “You guys are about the bottom line,” he told them, pointing to the mark. The clients immediately got it. The logo wasn’t just a pretty shape; it was a symbol of their business promise. It gave them a story to tell all the way up to the CEO and CFO.
Next came copywriting, a skill Do was just starting to embrace. The language was built on the two strategic pillars:
- Clarity and Savings: The copy used simple, direct language. “Spend less, do more.” “Gain visibility of shadow IT.” It avoided the jargon that had suffocated their previous communications.
- The Superhero Theme: The team played with superhero tropes to elevate the IT manager. “With great visibility comes great power,” a twist on the famous Spider-Man line. “The diligent dollar defender.” “Titan of IT.” A clever headline pitted “superficial” against “super-fiscal.”
The engagement grew exponentially. What started as a sub-$100,000 strategy and identity project quickly turned into a quarter-million-dollar relationship, including a $100,000 video. Once a designer can articulate a client's needs better than they can, they become indispensable. This leap in project value is a direct result of moving from execution to strategy, a journey Do details in how he learned to price the client, not the job.
The result wasn't just financial. It was personal. At the end of the workshop, executives pulled Do aside to give him a hug. “Chris, you've been able to do more in four hours than we have been able to do in months,” one told him.
“I've been working in commercial production, working with ad agencies for years at this point,” Do reflects. “None of them ever gave me a hug. It's because they saw me as a person who made things, not as a partner trying to help them solve a big problem.”
Deconstructing the Language of Brand
To operate at this level, a strategist must share a common vocabulary. The words “brand” and “branding” are thrown around so casually they have nearly lost their meaning.
So, what is a brand?
It’s not a logo. It’s not a color palette. It’s not a product.
Do points to the definition from brand expert Marty Neumeier: “A brand is a person's gut feeling about a product, service, or organization.” As Neumeier clarifies in his book Brand Flip, when enough individuals share that gut feeling, you have a brand.
Jeff Bezos offers a simpler version: “Your brand is what people say about you when you're not in the room.” It’s your reputation.
If a brand is the result, a feeling or perception, then branding is the cause. Branding is the deliberate act of trying to shape and influence that perception. It is the sum of every interaction a person has with a company. This is why developing an authentic personal brand is about action, not just appearance.
And because these interactions happen every day, a brand can never be fake. At least not for long.
Do shares a story about the old Ford slogan: “Quality is Job 1.” As a young man, his family, refugees grateful to be in America, bought a Ford Aerostar minivan. On the way to a fancy dinner, the sliding door fell off. On a road trip to Las Vegas, the van broke down in the middle of the desert. For Do’s family, Ford’s brand was not “Quality is Job 1.” It was “the van whose door falls off.”
“That is a fake brand,” Do says. The promise did not match the experience. In an age of social media, where bad news travels instantly, a company no longer controls its brand. The customers do.
The Container, Not the Content
This brings us back to the designer's biggest misconception: the power of the logo. Designers think the logo *is* the brand because it’s the most visible symbol of it. They believe taking the swoosh off a Nike shoe renders it worthless.
They are missing the point.
The logo is not the source of the meaning. It is merely the vessel for it.
A logo is just a container for meaning.
Read that again. The logo is an empty bucket. Everyone in the company, from the marketing team to the product developers to the customer service reps to the interns, is responsible for pouring meaning into that bucket. Decades of Nike’s athlete endorsements, “Just Do It” campaigns, product innovation, and retail experiences are what fill the container. The swoosh simply holds it all.
The designer's job is to create a beautiful, durable, and versatile container. That is a valuable skill. But the brand strategist's job is to influence what goes inside.
That is where the real power lies. It’s the difference between decorating the room and architecting the building. One is about aesthetics. The other is about shaping how people live, work, and feel inside a structure that you helped build.
For designers who want more, who want a seat at the table where real decisions are made, the path is clear.
Stop being a decorator. Become an architect.
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“A logo is just a container for meaning.”
— Chris Do
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