The Design Process Is Dead: Jenny Wen on How Design Works at Anthropic Now

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Overview

Jenny Wen leads design for Claude Cowork at Anthropic, after serving as head of design for Claude. Before that they were director of design at Figma, where they led the teams behind FigJam and Slides, and earlier they designed at Dropbox, Square, and Shopify. In this conversation with Lenny Rachitsky, Wen argues that the design process designers have been taught to "trust" (research and discovery, then cycles of diverging and converging on polished mocks) no longer fits how software gets built. In their view, the change is not coming from designers. It is being forced on design by how quickly engineering has changed. The conversation covers what design work looks like instead, how Wen spends their days, where they think human judgment still matters, why they returned from management to individual contributor work, how Cowork shipped, what they look for in hires, and how they run teams.

28 min read
5:05

"Don't trust the design process"

Wen gave a talk at a conference in Berlin in September titled roughly "Don't trust the design process." Their argument was that the canonical design process, which designers have treated "as gospel" and tried hard to preserve, is "basically dead." They think it was already dying before AI. The deciding factor now is that engineers can spin up many parallel coding agents at once. Wen jokes about engineers running "their seven Claudes." Designers, they say, have to let go of the old sequence.

Wen adds that the talk, only three or four months old at recording time, already feels "a little embarrassing" and outdated to them. They point to the release of Opus 4.6, and to many people discovering Claude Code over the holiday break, as accelerating the pressure to change. They also warn that their current opinions might shift again within three months.

Wen frames the change as a follow-on effect. Engineering has changed much more than design in the recent past, and design is trailing behind. They expect design tooling to change over the next year or so. They also describe the shift as empowering: designers now have access to the same coding tools, so they can prototype in real code and do "last mile" implementation and polish, rather than depending on engineers for both.

6:39

Two kinds of design work

Wen sees design work becoming "stratified" into two types.

The first is supporting implementation and execution. Anyone can float an idea, and someone (usually an engineer, because engineers are still better at implementation than designers) builds a scrappy version that people can try. In this mode, Wen says, a designer "actually do[es] not have the time to make these beautiful mocks anymore" or to lead the way designers used to.

The second is setting vision and direction. Designers did this before too, but Wen thinks its shape has changed. Teams used to produce two-, five-, or even ten-year visions, often packaged as carefully storytold decks. Wen says nobody knows what will happen in two years given how fast the technology is moving. A vision now tends to look three to six months out, and it may just be a prototype that points people in the right direction. They consider this work harder to make time for, but more important than ever. When anyone can build features in any direction, someone has to point the effort at a shared goal so the pieces make sense together and the work is efficient.

Is this just an AI-lab phenomenon?

Lenny asks whether this only applies to frontier AI companies, and whether a Salesforce or ServiceNow will ever work this way. Wen notes that the Berlin talk turned out to be the most resonant talk they have given. They read that as a sign that people across the industry feel the old process breaking down: designers and PMs are spinning up prototypes with tools like Claude Code and v0. The talk also drew a "decent amount" of backlash from people who had built careers on learning and teaching a stable process and who insisted discovery and other steps could not be dropped. Wen concludes that part of the industry is "not quite there yet."

On whether shipping fast actually produces better products, Wen says you still have to use discretion about when to ship. They believe, though, that executing and testing with real data and a real-user mindset leads to better products, especially with non-deterministic AI models. With these models you cannot mock up every state, theorize your way to an answer, or even build a meaningful clickable prototype. You have to use the real model underneath and watch people bring their own use cases, because use cases get discovered through usage rather than designed in advance. Lenny ties this to Cowork, and probably Claude Code, which emerged from seeing how people actually used the products.

13:06

A day in the life at Anthropic

A surprising share of Wen's time goes to keeping up with what is happening inside the company. Wen has worked at companies of similar size, but says this is the first where they have felt compelled to follow everything. There are model developments on the research side, many teams prototyping under various code names, labs teams working close to research, internal prototypes and products they want to try out of curiosity, and internal essays and debates about where the industry and the company are heading. At a typical company, Wen says, they would have treated much of this as outside their reach. Here, both the volume and the kind of work draw them in, partly to spot what is coming toward their own area. "Our Slack is a gold mine," they say, suggesting that the best AI news is probably inside the labs' Slack channels.

Beyond that, Wen describes three main modes. The first is traditional forward-looking design work. The week of recording, they had set aside time to think about where Cowork could go over the next three months, now that the team had spent a while in execution mode, and to visualize that for the team. The second is jamming with engineers: conversations, whiteboarding, reviewing what engineers have built and giving feedback, working as a kind of consultant. The third is time in code. Often an engineer implements a first version of something they worked out together, and Wen then goes in and polishes it with them. Wen calls this a fun part of the job that barely existed a few months earlier.

The traditional practices have not disappeared. The team has a user researcher who runs traditional studies and surveys, and the whole team reads the results. Wen still prototypes and mocks things up. What changed is the toolset and the proportions. A few years ago, they estimate, 60–70% of their time went to mocking and prototyping, around 20% to jamming and consulting with engineers, and about 10% to coordination meetings. Now mocking takes 30–40%, direct pairing with engineers takes another 30–40%, and a new slice goes to actual implementation and shipping.

18:58

Wen's AI stack, and why Figma still matters

Wen calls theirs "a fully Claude house." They used Claude chat but have moved essentially all of their chat use cases to Cowork, which they find better at the longer-running tasks they were mostly asking for anyway. They use Claude Code mainly inside VS Code, because they are usually tweaking front-end code and want to see it while talking to Claude. They have also started using Claude Code remotely, from mobile and from Slack. Someone points out an off icon, a teammate @-mentions Claude, and the PR is ready to pick up.

Wen still uses Figma, and says they may be biased as a former "Figmate." In their view it fills two gaps. The first is exploring many options: good design, they believe, comes from throwing eight to ten directions at the wall and curating, and today's coding tools are "super linear," pulling you into iterating on a single direction with Claude. The second is fine visual and interaction detail, such as trying different typography or styles side by side on a canvas. Wen calls these "micro directions" and says they don't always want to go straight to code for them.

Lenny notes the irony that engineers are moving from IDEs to terminals and agents while designers are adopting IDEs. Wen agrees that directly changing a class is easier than asking an agent to do it, and allows that IDEs may end up most useful to designers and PMs.

22:32

Working with engineers without becoming a gatekeeper

For designers overwhelmed by how much engineers now ship, Wen's approach is to explain the reasoning behind each piece of feedback, so engineers can pull out principles rather than receive verdicts. For example: "we should have a button here because not everybody realizes you can prompt this," along with the research that supports it. They also point engineers to the design system in code, because Claude writes much of the code and doesn't always pick up design-system components. The goal is to equip engineers to make good calls without Wen present.

On not going crazy, Wen admits it is hard right now. Because designers and engineers can now do so much, they want to do more. It isn't only designers struggling to keep up with engineers, Wen observes. Engineers are asking how to keep up with themselves.

24:31

Craft, quality, and trust when shipping fast

Asked how to maintain craft and quality when products ship constantly, Wen first corrects the premise. It isn't that no designer is involved. There is too much for one designer to handle. Their approach depends on where a product sits in its adoption cycle. Some launches are explicitly labeled research previews and caveated heavily. Cowork is Wen's example. The team knew it might not be the easiest to use or the highest quality, and that it would have issues. They had used it extensively internally and believed there was something powerful in it, so they judged that the benefits outweighed the drawbacks. Like the models, Wen says, "this is the worst it's ever going to be."

The condition, in Wen's view, is a promise to users: take feedback, iterate, and visibly keep shipping improvements. What erodes trust and degrades a brand is shipping something early and then never touching it again. Wen agrees with Lenny's phrase "building trust through speed," and adds that the goal is also for people to feel heard, to see that fixes respond to what they were trying to do. Lenny observes that lab teams do this publicly, replying to posts and announcing fixes a day later. Wen says the fast feedback loop is fun for a designer because you learn right away what to do next.

27:48

Will AI develop taste?

Lenny cites Boris Cherny saying on the podcast that Claude Code now helps him generate ideas and decide what to build, and asks where human judgment will stay valuable. Wen expects AI to get better at taste, judgment, and design. They think designers may be "holding on to that a little bit too much" by assuming a human will always know the best thing to ship.

Still, Wen argues, someone has to decide what gets built and what matters. They point out that many of the hardest parts of building software aren't the building. The worst moments at work usually involve disagreeing with someone about what belongs in a feature. AI can weigh in, but it can't necessarily resolve that dispute. Wen calls this a kind of taste, though closer to judgment about what to do next than to aesthetic taste. They also stress accountability. Even though Claude writes much of the code today, an engineer is still accountable for whether it works and makes sense in the product. The same will hold for product decisions, "maybe one day" not, but for now the responsibility falls on people.

Lenny pushes further. After watching AI take over coding faster than most people expected a year or two ago, to the point that top engineers don't read the code anymore, he suspects we underrate how good AI will get at product judgment too. He imagines it laying out all the data and a recommendation so that people just "press one." He compares the human role to radiology, where a person is mostly needed to sign off because someone must be liable.

Wen also doesn't think Claude is yet a designer they would hire. It isn't a strong generalist, a deep specialist, or a standout new grad (the three archetypes they describe later). They find it good at a first pass and at presenting many ideas, but nothing yet feels "special and hirable." They note it has improved a lot over the past year.

31:51

Why chat interfaces may last

Lenny notes that few people expected chatbots, and now terminals, to be the lasting interface to AI. Wen expects a combination. Anthropic has released widgets in Claude that let the model ask questions interactively and show things like weather and stocks. Wen says these have been received well because people like to see, touch, and click interfaces, and for specific tasks that is more efficient than typing. Leaning into the chat paradigm, though, opened up a flexibility that fixed UIs never offered: effectively infinite ways to work with the model. Wen doesn't think chat, or even talking to a terminal, is going away. Their prediction is that specific UIs will increasingly be generated by the models rather than hand-coded for each case.

Lenny points out that one of the big innovations of OpenClaw was simply letting people chat with an agent through WhatsApp, Telegram, and SMS. Wen reads that as confirmation: talking is how humans interact richly, and now there is another medium for talking to a computer. Lenny adds Kevin Weil's point from an earlier episode that conversation scales across every level of intelligence, which makes it a durable interface as models get smarter.

35:40

Stepping back from director to IC

Wen joined Anthropic as an IC, managed a team for a few months when the org structure needed it, and is now back to full-time IC work. At Figma they had managed roughly 12–15 designers at the peak, including a few managers. They chose IC work at Anthropic partly because the work itself excited them. They also wanted to stay close to the craft at an important moment before climbing further, and they had doubts about whether middle management would be a safe job in the future. They say they love both sides equally and had been something of a reluctant manager.

The main payoff, Wen says, has been skills they would not have gained while managing. The design process changed so much in a year that they picked up many hard skills they wouldn't have had time for. If they manage again, that experience will give them empathy for how teams now work. They think that empathy is hard to have if you aren't working this way and testing the tools yourself. Wen compares it to engineering orgs that sometimes have new engineering managers, or even directors, take on tasks for a few months to learn the technology before managing full time. They think design, historically more focused on people management, should probably do something similar.

What felt rustiest on returning to IC work was being critiqued. Presenting work and hearing critical feedback over and over is a vulnerable exercise, and it took readjusting.

On whether design management will last, Wen believes that as long as there are teams, managers add real value. What they see fading is pure people management: career setup, one-on-ones, making sure people feel good at work. The manager who fits the current moment combines people management with giving the team direction on the work itself, while creating an environment where the team can do its best work. Wen expects to manage again, and describes their motto as "whatever it takes": setting direction if the team needs that, executing if the team needs that.

41:04

How Cowork actually shipped

Lenny raises the widely repeated claim that Cowork was built in ten days. Wen clarifies that ten days is how long it took to go from what existed internally to something ready to release. The product had been in the works much longer. There had been many internal prototypes on top of various agent harnesses, and the team had prototyped individual pieces of what became Cowork. They tried multiple form factors for how Claude presents a to-do list, how it asks multiple-choice questions, and how to teach users what the use cases are. Wen says they don't know if the team landed on the best possible form, but the pieces were things that already worked internally and that people liked, and releasing would bring more signal. Forcing a ten-day deadline meant shipping whatever they had and iterating from there. Wen says the "10 days" figure became the viral takeaway, but the idea kept resurfacing in different variations, with many people contributing, until "all of a sudden it's the right moment" and looks obvious in hindsight.

Asked what they're proudest of, Wen says simply that the team shipped it, since after working on something for so long a designer mostly sees flaws. They're excited about ongoing work on the homepage, which is meant to present tasks you can give Claude and tasks Claude is working on. Lenny points to a randomizer that suggests ideas. Wen wants the experience to feel more like a shared to-do list between the user and Claude, showing what Claude is doing and what needs the user's attention. They're also thinking about Cowork's "true form factor": whether it should always live in one screen or reach out to the other surfaces it works with.

Wen likes Lenny's description of Cowork as "Claude with hands" and adds their own: Claude that is good at taking "all your garbage" and turning it into something nice. A favorite use is handing it a folder of miscellaneous material and getting something good out of it.

46:06

Three archetypes Wen is hiring for

Given the environment, Wen first looks for resilience, a willingness to "roll with it," adapt, and try new methods and tools rather than cling to old processes. Beyond that they describe three archetypes that already interested them but feel especially important now.

The first is the strong generalist. Wen doesn't mean someone who is decent at many things. They mean someone "block-shaped," roughly 80th-percentile good at several core skills. Wen admits this is rare and hard to hire. It matters because the design role is stretching to become more PM-shaped and engineering-shaped, and someone with strong skills in several areas can flex and expand easily. Lenny links this to the "sideways F or E" shape he discussed with Marc Andreessen.

The second is the deep specialist, a T-shape whose vertical goes much deeper than most people's, perhaps top 10% in the industry. One example is a designer technical enough to be close to a software engineer, which helps when working directly with the model. Another is someone exceptional at visual design or icon design. When anyone can make anything, Wen says, that depth helps differentiate the product.

The third, which Wen thinks most companies overlook, is the "crack new grad": early-career, wise beyond their years, humble, and eager to learn. Most companies hire senior people with track records, but because roles are changing so fast, Wen values someone with a near-blank slate who learns quickly and has no ingrained processes and rituals.

50:57

Advice for new and experienced designers

For new designers, Wen's advice is to build real things and share them. They remember their own design education as largely theoretical. The strongest new grads they know use the technology, build, and aren't limited by their lack of experience. Wen suggests they may even be "unburdened" by not carrying the expectations that longtime industry people have. Wen points to Socratica, which started at their school after they graduated, as a culture of building and showcasing projects much like a science fair. They mention someone assembling robots that ran on Claude a few years ago, and someone who wanted to put googly eyes on a bus in Boston, as examples of agency combined with a community that builds and shares.

For mid-career and senior designers, Wen doesn't think learning to code from scratch is necessary. Implementation is increasingly part of the designer's vocabulary, though, and designers should bring coding tools into their toolkit and know how to use them, rather than, say, going off to learn React. They speculate that as models and products improve, people will keep moving up the abstraction layers and won't need to understand every line of code.

54:45

The value of "low-leverage" work for managers

Early in their management career, Wen learned the standard advice to sort work with a 2×2 into things only you can do and things others can do, and to drop the "low-leverage" nitpicky tasks. Looking at the leaders they respect most, Wen noticed that those leaders deliberately pick certain low-leverage tasks, and that the tasks become high-leverage precisely because a leader is doing them.

Wen's examples: senior leaders who test the product relentlessly, dogfood it, reproduce bugs, and share logs and nitpicks with engineers. That builds deep familiarity with the product and signals that the leader cares and is rolling up their sleeves. Wen has also seen Mike Krieger submit PRs himself, which communicates that everyone is on the same team and nothing is beneath anyone. A more cultural example is a leader going out of their way to make, or vibe-code, a special anniversary card for someone. An assistant could produce the card, but the leader doing it shows how much they care. Wen says they try to choose the seemingly low-leverage tasks that are worth their time, and they see those choices as what makes a leader's style feel distinctive to the people on the team.

58:05

Why good teams roast each other

Wen's teams have a reputation for roasting each other while also being happy and high-performing. Wen clarifies that they don't instruct anyone to roast. They treat it as a signal. Friends tease each other because they feel comfortable and safe, and coworkers often don't. When team members poke fun at each other, and at the leader, it suggests they don't fear the leader and don't worry that speaking up will get them fired. On their last team, people imitated Wen's habit of asking in critiques, "Okay, what are next steps?"

The tension is the usual warning against managers being friends with their reports. Wen resolves it by pairing a baseline of psychological safety with clearly high standards. They argue the two reinforce each other: once people trust one another, applying high standards becomes easier because it happens without fear. Wen compares it to being a somewhat tough parent. The team knows Wen will always be there for them and won't fire them on a whim, and also knows Wen wants the best for them and expects great work. Lenny connects this to Kim Scott's Radical Candor: caring personally and challenging directly.

1:02:00

The legibility framework: designers as internal VCs

Wen's favorite framework comes from a tweet by Evan Tana, a partner at the VC firm SPC. His 2×2 rates founders as legible or illegible and ideas as legible or illegible. When both founder and idea are highly legible, the idea is probably not novel, and someone else will likely build it. The interesting cases involve illegible ideas: ideas at the frontier that people don't get yet, or that aren't being explained in a way that makes sense.

Wen thinks part of a designer's role at a frontier lab is to spot illegible ideas, figure out what is valuable in them, and transform them through storytelling or through UX and form factor. Scanning Slack for internal projects is, in part, a search for ideas that have energy around them but don't quite make sense yet.

The concrete example is an internal prototype called Claude Studio, which someone built partway through the previous year. It was a dense, powerful interface on top of an agentic harness (Wen thinks possibly Claude Code at the time), with displays showing knowledge, skills, what Claude was doing, and previews of outputs. As a designer, Wen found it confusing. But they saw a lot of energy around it from researchers, its builders, and others internally, and concluded there was something there they didn't yet understand. The people working on that prototype extracted from it what became the skills framework, the markdown files that instruct Claude on how to do something. Wen wasn't directly involved in that. Later, when designing Cowork, Wen went back to the prototype and pulled out the kinds of information people had found helpful, such as Claude's plan and to-dos and the context and files it was working through. Wen's takeaway is that designers can act almost like VCs inside the company when looking at prototypes. When there is energy around something they don't understand, they should dig in, because people drawn to early ideas often can't articulate why.

Lenny relates this to research he did with VC Terrence Rohan on people who joined companies like Palantir, Stripe, Linear, Notion, and OpenAI early. Two of the patterns they found were ideas that sounded crazy enough that people laughed, and noticing when others were very excited about something even if you didn't get it. The third was top-1% founders.

Lightning round

Wen recommends Robert Caro's The Power Broker, which they admit is an "incredibly aggressive recommendation" at around 1,100 pages. They argue it is worth reading end to end in an era of short attention spans. It traces a controversial figure, Robert Moses, across decades with nuance, restores long-arc thinking, reminds readers that careers are long, and shows how someone gets things done. (Lenny notes that design leader Julie Zhuo was also reading it recently.) Their second pick is Bill Hayes's Insomniac City, a memoir of Oliver Sacks's last days and the love story between Hayes and Sacks. Wen says it has little to do with the podcast's topics but makes them think about mortality, love, and life.

For film and TV, Wen picks Sentimental Value, the Norwegian film by the director of The Worst Person in the World, which they watched on a plane. They praise its subtle pacing, writing, and character relationships, and the way the family house functions almost as a character. They also recommend season 2 of The Pitt, because people enjoy watching others who are very competent at their jobs. Lenny notes that Noah Wyle, who leads the show, was in ER as a younger actor.

Their favorite product is Retro, which they have used for about two years. It's a small-community photo-sharing app where you can only share photos from a given week, with no visible counts or ads. After two years, they can look back at what they were doing the same week in previous years, which has become a special way to relive their life week by week.

Their motto is "it is what it is." Wen says it sounds defeatist but isn't: with so much happening in the world and the industry that you can't control, it brings the levity needed to keep going.

Their favorite Cowork use case is introspection. Wen keeps a folder of local notes written in iA Writer over the years (one-on-one notes, random thoughts, small memos, interview notes) and has Cowork analyze them to surface insights. In a practical case related to hiring, they wanted to articulate what they look for in design craft, which they think many people struggle to put into words. They asked Cowork to read their interview notes and craft-related writing and help them draft a memo and rubric for assessing craft in interviews. What they value, they say, is learning things about themselves that they had been expressing implicitly without realizing it.

Closing

Before the lightning round, Wen shouts out the Anthropic design team, which they describe as humble, not always visible on social media, and resilient through a period when the job has changed dramatically. The team spans very technical, prototype-oriented designers through high-craft designers shipping polished work. Wen says the team is hiring throughout the year, particularly strong generalists and deep specialists, and people excited about the technology who have been building a lot, provided the way the team works sounds "more exciting than terrifying." Wen can be found on X as @jenny_wen. The one thing they ask of listeners is product feedback on Cowork, or anything Claude-related.