Developing Good Taste

What makes a piece of work good? What is good taste, and why does it even matter?

If you believe that beauty is narrowly defined in the eye of the beholder then doing good work, making good things, and having good taste don’t really matter. If someone makes something that’s ugly, we just say “That’s great! Very creative. You did it your own way.”

But that’s not really what we think, is it?

Taste does matter. There are beautiful things and ugly ones. Things which delight and those which are quickly forgotten. Why is that?

I think it’s because humans have a sense of what is good. We appreciate good work. Many of us invest a significant portion of our lives developing a taste for some category of thing, even when we don’t intend to. For me, I have developed a taste for elegantly simple software, a great film, or the perfect climbing line on a mountain. I also appreciate good architecture and industrial design, but haven’t developed my taste so much in those categories. And somewhat by accident, I’ve learned to notice well made outdoor clothes, and kitchen pots and pans.

We are not born with good taste in any category, yet all of us have developed good taste to different degrees in at least some categories. That is fascinating to me. It serves some important purpose, otherwise we wouldn’t do it. I’m not sure it really matters what the purpose is. What does matter is that we can learn good taste in any category if we’re motivated to do it.

In my first year in film school all the freshmen had to take a photography class. At the end of each 2 week period we had a 3 hour critique. Each of us would take a turn displaying our work and sit while the professor and a dozen or so students critiqued it. It was terrifying at first, but it didn’t take long before we learned there is such a thing as good taste. Most importantly, we could develop and refine our taste for what was good and what wasn’t. Working together, dropping our inhibitions, and becoming vulnerable, we discovered that we could rapidly accelerate our taste for what was really good.

The real trick is making something that is both good and novel. Humans love novelty, even when it’s really just history repeating itself. But too many people, especially young people, go for novelty right out of the gate and end up creating ugly things that don’t work well. Probably because they are trying to be someone or something they are not (yet).

In my second year of film school we were assigned the task of shooting a short film scene as part of a composition class. For my project I experimented with the exposure levels, intentionally shooting my scene underexposed with only the bright highlights visible on the screen. I thought I was artistically expressing myself, and was proud of being “creative”. But after I finished showing it, our professor immediately pointed out that it simply looked like I had made a mistake with the camera. “You need to learn the rules of filmmaking before you can break them. Otherwise it just looks like shit.”

Good taste is learned and developed. And in the right atmosphere, when we can pull back the armor and be vulnerable, good taste can be developed quickly. We need to surround ourselves with people who are also interested in developing taste in our category, and do the things; putting our work and ourselves out there for critique.

Sometimes I think we’ve lost that. Somehow avoiding conflict and criticism has become more important than doing great work. Not everything is good. Not everyone who wants to have good taste has it (yet). We are cheating ourselves by letting the potential of good work get evaporated by the fear of being uncomfortable.

Consciously cultivate your taste in the work done in your field. Until you know which is the best and what makes it so, you don't know what you're aiming for.

And that is what you're aiming for, because if you don't try to be the best, you won't even be good.

-- Paul Graham

Developing good taste is really hard work. Making things, putting them out there, accepting critique, and making more things; it’s emotionally draining.

But it matters. Now, maybe more than it ever has.

Related Reading

Taste For Makers by Paul Graham.

On Taste by Julie Zhuo