“Please just pick one so we can go,” is a common phrase my wife says when we’re out. You’ll find her pleading with me in a big-box aisle, staring at what look identical to most people. I assure you they’re not, and I can probably tell you why.

The psychologist Herbert Simon would define me as a maximizer: the kind of person who builds spreadsheets to compare options, waits months for the next version, hunts for the older, better model, or buys three brands of the same thing just to test them. A maximizer hunts for the best, not just a good enough option.

That personal quirk used to feel harmless. Getting it right meant finding the best price, the highest quality, or the most efficient process. It felt like winning, born of curiosity and preference, not pressure. But with costs rising and every choice tied to future consequences, maximizing no longer feels like a personality trait. It feels like survival now, and it’s no longer niche.

As that pressure grew, delight quietly died, and hope of relief took its place.

Relief has quietly become the emotion of trust.

• Relief that the product works as promised.

• Relief that support is there when needed.

• Relief that we did not waste time or money.

Relief is the exhale after decision fatigue.

The New "Maximizer" User

Every choice now starts with research. Whether it’s finding a car, a charger, or a new show to stream, people cross-reference reviews, compare data, and verify information before they trust it. To cope with uncertainty, we’ve built small systems of rigor to navigate a world that feels harder to predict.

That shift has quietly redefined what it means to design for people. The modern consumer isn’t passive: they’re informed, connected, and skeptical. Chasing superficial delight no longer wins on its own. Empathy remains important, but it is no longer the finish line. People want to feel like they're winning, like they got the best version of what’s out there, and our work should make that easier.

Fitness trackers, budgeting apps, and social platforms have turned awareness into a daily skill, training us to track, compare, and improve almost everything we do. We did this to ourselves. By designing for engagement, loyalty, and retention, we also trained people to expect more from every interaction.

Over time, that habit has changed what people value. People now favor proof over promises and consistency over claims.

This shift has created a very different kind of user. People are now data-aware, community-informed, and quick to recognize when something feels off. They notice when personalization misses or when a product falls short of what others said. They know you have their data and expect you to apply it responsibly, clearly, and without wasting time.

For designers, this means managing emotion is only half the job. We also have to understand the systems, tools, and expectations shaping those emotions. When design fails to connect those dots, trust fades fast. People will see it, talk about it, and move on before a brand has time to respond.

Design’s Side of the Bargain

Skeptical customers shift the burden to design. Reputation or intrigue might get them through the door, but removing friction beats adding clever flourish. The experience is what earns the right to keep them.

Every product, message, and system we create either builds trust or breaks it. When data, design, and communication tell the same story, people believe it. When they don’t, they move on.

A charger marked as available should be available. A personalized offer should make sense. A feature that collects data should explain why. Credibility lives in details like these.

Our work doesn’t stop at the screen. The algorithm, the influencer, and the interface all shape the same story. If one part fails, the entire experience feels unreliable.

Designing for trust means designing for how everything works together. It’s about understanding how information moves, how expectations form, and how confidence is earned. Trust is a systems outcome.

Our job is to turn complexity into clarity and accuracy into confidence. The future of design depends on how well we do that.