When I first got into UX, I was fascinated by the idea of designing products, systems, and experiences that actually improved people’s lives. My instructors at the Interaction Design Foundation spoke about human-computer interaction, meaningful design, and creating more accessible and intuitive surroundings. It felt like UX had a higher purpose—beyond just aesthetics or usability, it had the power to change the way we interact with the world.
But when I started looking for jobs, all I found were roles focused on designing apps, websites, and—more apps. Somehow, this grand vision of shaping systems and improving human experiences had been reduced to fine-tuning yet another user interface.
Had I misunderstood UX? Or was the industry itself narrowing the field into something much smaller than it was meant to be?
I applied anyway. Because that’s what you do when you need experience, right? But something felt off. The excitement I once had about UX was fading, replaced by a sense of detachment. It seemed like few were actually taking Don Norman’s idea of design as a tool for shaping a better world seriously. Instead, UX had become a checklist: wireframes, usability tests, design systems, and conversion rates. Important, yes. But was this all there was?
Many people enter UX because they believe in the human-centered approach. They are drawn to the idea that design is not just about making things pretty but about making them better. Yet, the reality of the job market seems to reduce UX into a narrow field—mostly digital, mostly commercial, and mostly profit-driven. Where was the UX that focused on redesigning broken systems? On sustainability, accessibility, and ethical design?
I don’t think UX was ever meant to be confined to digital screens. The kind of work that first inspired me—the work that blends ethnology, sustainability, environment, and human-centered innovation—exists, but not always under the label of UX. It’s in service design, circular economy projects, systemic problem-solving, and product innovation. It’s in rethinking waste cycles, designing for repairability, and building systems that actually reduce harm rather than optimizing interfaces for more engagement.
Consider how UX principles are applied beyond apps:
All of these fields rely on UX thinking, yet they rarely appear in standard UX job listings.
I still remember this moment from university. I was deep into my ethnology studies, conducting fieldwork in a small village in West Bulgaria. I was supposed to be observing cultural rituals - demonology to be exact, but what caught my attention was something entirely different: how people reused and repurposed everything. An old fridge became a pantry. A broken chair was turned into a planter. Nothing was wasted—not because of trends, but because it was normal.
While it wasn’t anything unusual for my part of the world, something about that moment stayed with me. It wasn’t just resourceful—it was a kind of intuitive design thinking that responded directly to people’s real needs, environments, and values. Years later, when I started learning about UX, I realized I had already seen human-centered design in action—just not in a lab or a usability test, but in everyday life.
That’s what first lit the spark for me: not shiny apps, with the so called "wow effect" that magically moves on your screen like a butterfly (ok, you have to admit this analogy was weird) but systems and experiences that made life better. And maybe that’s why traditional UX roles, focused solely on digital products, have always felt a little too narrow. I’m not looking to optimize a checkout flow—I want to help redesign systems that reflect the way people actually live.

And that’s the real challenge—finding those opportunities when they’re often buried under different job titles or overlooked entirely. I realize now that my frustration wasn’t just about the UX job market; it was about trying to fit into a space that wasn’t built for the kind of work I wanted to do.
Maybe, instead of chasing UX roles that feel disconnected, the real goal is to create a path that aligns with the reason I started this journey in the first place. Maybe the intersection of sustainability, ethnology, and design is where I was meant to be all along.
So, no—I didn’t misunderstand UX. But maybe it’s time to step outside the mainstream definition and start looking where meaningful design is already happening, even if it’s called by another name.
If you feel the same disconnect, maybe it's worth asking: What kind of UX excites you? If the answer goes beyond apps and websites, perhaps it’s time to expand where you’re looking. Seek out service design, system design, sustainability-focused design roles, and even research-driven positions in social impact. These might not always have "UX" in the job title, but they align with the core principles that make UX valuable in the first place.
UX should be about improving the world, not just interfaces. The challenge is making sure that’s the kind of UX we pursue.