We’ve all seen it: the UX iceberg diagram. The one meant to show how most of UX is hidden beneath the surface. It’s a helpful metaphor. It shows the deep complexity of UX and helps inform the misunderstanding that UX is just the pretty surface that users see.
Lately, I’ve begun to wonder if there’s a different metaphor that would be a bit more helpful. Icebergs are great to show the depth of problems, but you don’t really do anything with an iceberg…except avoid it. Unless of course you’re the Titanic and I don’t think any of us want to turn out like the Titanic. As designers, we want to solve for problems, not just avoid them.
Enter the dreaded Dandelion. Why? Well, there are two main reasons. First, the ferocious nature of the dandelion shows the depth of UX problems. Second, as designers, we exist to solve problems, which means we work to get rid of the dandelion, not just avoid it.
Let’s explore both of these.
Oh,The Tenacious Dandelion
You can’t ignore Dandelions and expect them to go away.
As a kid, I remember the simple delight in finding a dandelion that’s gone to seed with its white poofy head. You pick it up gently, then blow, and those pretty little seeds float off in the breeze. It’s beautiful. Except when it’s in your front yard. Those little seeds will find their home in the roots of your grass and start growing more dandelion friends. So, ignoring dandelions isn’t an option because they will eventually spread like a yellow disease across your beautiful yard.
So, what’s the next thing you’re tempted to do? Find those yellow flowers underneath the sun and pluck them. Back to when I was a little kid with a bucket in hand, collecting them like golden currency. After your efforts, you’re back to a green lawn, and from a distance, it looks great. You’ve purged the yellow. But is that reality? Not really. With a day or two, those golden heads are back, ready to wilt and shed their seeds all over your yard. It bought you some time, but you’re going to be back to plucking yellow flowers in no time. And plucking them again will lead you to repeated plucking sessions. Over and over again. Because you haven’t addressed the plant, just the most visible part of the plant…that golden top.
The next biggest thing is to grab the plant and rip it out. So, instead of grabbing the golden yellow flowers, you walk around ripping the plant out of the ground. It takes more work, but now you have a pile of dandelion plants. The golden flower, the stem, and even the dandelion leaves. Which leaves you with a better-looking yard and some leafy greens that you can make a salad or delightful tea with. Nice job. Right?
Well, you’ve certainly bought yourself more time than just plucking the golden heads. But the plant isn’t really gone. Just the parts you can see. Just like UX problems, dandelions hold a secret. They are deeply rooted. Even though you’ve ripped the visible part of the plant out of the ground, in just a few days, you will see those leafy greens growing back, ready to grow more golden heads, which eventually will spread their seeds to sprout more of their kind.
The secret to dealing with dandelions lies in the root of the plant. Dandelions store vast amounts of energy down in the roots. And those roots go deep. You might see 4-12 inches of visible plant height. There’s great satisfaction in ripping off that amount of weed. However, the core taproot can be as deep as 2 feet. That’s 2-3 times as deep as the height of the plant. That means you’re leaving between 50-65% of the plant underground…ready to grow back.
If that’s the case, then you might be tempted to go overboard. You might kill off every green thing in your yard. Or have the top 2ft of your topsoil ripped off and replaced with brand new fresh soil, free from any dandelion seed and ready for fresh new sod. For some people, they may make that choice. And, in some instances, if you have a field of goldenrod in your front yard, it might be a legitimate option.
But the core of the dandelion is the root. If you’ve been tending your yard and you see a dandelion, don’t freak out. Grab a small spade and loosen the soil around the dandelion so you can gently lift the entire plant (taproot and all) out of the ground. The goal is to get as much of the taproot as possible, ideally all of it. Any taproot left will grow back.
It doesn’t require a complete re-soil of the front yard. It just requires some patience and a concentrated effort focused on the right target…that taproot.
From Gardening to Designing
Wow, that’s a deep lesson in dealing with dandelions. Why did I tell you all of this? Because this is critical to communication in the world of design. Sharing the roots of the problem with our peers helps us scope our approach to dealing with the problem. In real life, we’re not always allowed to dive deep into the soil. We’re not given a budget to hire a crew to resoil the front yard…or in our case, rebuild the entire front end. Sometimes, we’re asked to stay closer to the surface, buying some time and just making it “a little bit better.”
It can feel like being asked to pluck the head off a dandelion, knowing that the dandelion is still lurking, ready to rear its ugly golden head again. It feels like wasted effort.
As designers, we often see the layers beneath a user’s pain. We know the root causes. We trace them through confusing navigation, outdated systems, constraining architecture, or inconsistent data. And we also know the truth: fixing the real issue isn’t always what the business wants—or can afford—to do.
Shipping new features often takes priority. Engineering capacity is limited. Leadership wants something visible. (You know, like that beautiful rose bush at the entry of the house.) And suddenly we’re stuck between the depth of the problem and our constraints.
It’s exhausting to add a piece of instructional text when you know the real confusion comes from a backend service built a decade ago. It’s disheartening to get user feedback saying “this doesn’t make sense” when you’ve made it as sensible as the system will allow. Over time, this wears on a team—especially when they care deeply.
So what do we do? Do we hire more designers to keep pulling the dandelion heads? We buy bigger AI-powered buckets to help them carry the weight of the golden flowers? It’s a tough situation. But with the right perspective, there’s some hope.
Let’s explore a real-world example using our dandelion as a metaphor.
A Practical Example: A Confusing Login
You’re working on a login experience and you’re brought a new problem to solve for: a user runs into a login error. They enter their credentials, hit submit, and get a vague message:
“Something went wrong.”
That’s it. No hint. No next step. No idea whether it was a typo or a system outage. You can feel the user’s anger boiling, ready to throw their laptop or smartphone across the room. Now, this is pretty extreme, but let’s roll with it.
Behind the scenes, the error could be due to a wrong user ID like email or username, incorrect password, account expiration, API timeouts, database corruption, connectivity issue, or a plethora of other technical issues. The issue is that the login service is brittle and prone to failure, but the front-end code doesn’t know why the login failed. It just gets a generic error code that means…well…login failed.
So, what’s a designer to do? What pixel can we push, or picture can we draw to get out of this one? (I know, I know…that’s not what a designer is really valuable for, but that’s often how designers are viewed.)
Let’s return to the Dandelion for a moment. To deal with this login problem, we have a range of options from surface to deep roots. Here are two examples:
Pluck the head: We could deal with the issues on the surface and remove the glaring part of the problem. Simply rewrite the message to say, “We couldn’t log you in. Please check your email and password.” That is a more friendly, but doesn’t really explain the truth of the situation to the user. However, it probably covers a majority of cases.
Pull the Plant: Another option might be to isolate just two of the main issues (incorrect username or password), create a bespoke error code for them so you can show a precise error message. It doesn’t cover the many other common failure cases, but it’s an improvement for many users.
Dig the root: To really deal with the lack of clarity, we may need to redesign the authentication service to surface real error states, write helpful error messages, handle edge cases, and improve the reliability of the service.
And of course, one option is incredibly more expensive than the other. Your product manager is under pressure to get things done quickly, so they would naturally ask, “Can we just make the message clearer?” But you also know this is the fourth issue you’ve seen stem from this brittle login flow. And unless something changes more deeply, it’s just going to come back.
Strategic Gardening
Designers are often in a tough spot. Typically, we don’t get to choose how deep we can go. But we can still show what’s underground.
That’s where our influence as a designer can shine, not by insisting on a root-level overhaul, but by mapping the system, explaining the tradeoffs, and offering multiple solutions. You’re exposing the mechanics behind the problem to help everyone make a more informed decision…with options at different depths.
Try this: Lay out three levels of solution in a short document. Or sketch a diagram of how the user experience maps to system constraints. You don’t have to do a full pitch deck. Just make the underground parts visible. That can be a launching point to shift the conversation from the only cheap option to a few affordable options. And maybe it will expose the depth of the problem and provide enough information to justify going after the deep root.
This approach doesn’t just clarify the problem, it builds trust and a relationship. It shows your team that you're not here to win UX arguments. You’re here to help tend the garden as a team.
When It’s Not Worth the Dig
Still, we need to acknowledge that not every dandelion is worth digging up. Sometimes the timing is wrong. Sometimes the cost is too high. Sometimes you’re not the gardener in charge. That’s okay.
Part of growing as a designer is learning when to invest energy and when to move on. The right time might come later. And when it does, you’ll be ready to dig. And that can be difficult. You might see the deeper problem. You might want to fix it properly. But you won’t always get a chance.
That doesn’t mean your insight was wasted or that no one cares. It means you’re investing in the long haul. You’re building credibility. You’re equipping others to understand the system better. And you’re showing that design isn’t about being the loudest voice or being right, it’s about understanding problems and providing reasonable solution approaches.
The more consistently you articulate an understanding of the depths (even when you’re only allowed to scratch the surface), the more likely someone will ask you to go deeper next time.
Weed Thoughtfully, Not Forcefully.
You don’t have to push back against every surface fix. You also don’t have to pretend the root doesn’t exist.
The best designers I’ve worked with don’t try to win every argument. They try to share a deeper understanding of the problem with their partners…articulately, consistently, and with empathy. They know the soil. They know the weeds. And they keep tending the garden.
Even if all they’re asked to do today is pluck a dandelion head. It’s better than avoiding the iceberg…right?