Business theorist Peter Druker once said, “Quality in a product is not what the supplier puts in. It is what the customer gets out and is willing to pay for.”

I find that quote to be very instructive these times. In my industry, interior design, I often hear colleagues and friends complain about how attached clients have become to their projects.

It used to be that the designer presented a conceptual design, and the clients offered some input at certain points, maybe made some tweaks, but they didn’t lead the process. Today, clients are involved in everything, from A to Z, starting at the very beginning with the conceptual design phases.

But, some of my associates say, the designers are the professionals — they are the ones who know best. So why don’t their clients let them do what they were hired to do, without interference?

Believe it or not, product quality holds less value today than it did in the past. It’s no longer enough for a consumer to find the perfect product or solution. They want to enjoy the journey of gaining that product. In fact, the journey — in our case, the design and construction process — is as important as the end result. In some cases it’s even more important.

We also have to realize that consumers today have changed their idea of what their personal space should reflect, as well as how they buy and interact with the end product. Luxury has been redefined to suggest an experience more than a product or service.

A rare experience

Everybody likes a good story and, ultimately, many clients want both the design/construction process and the final product to provide them with some anecdotes.

Every time I go into a home that’s newly redesigned — say I’m visiting a friend — I will hear a story from that homeowner. They’ll tell me about the designer, what they did, how they got involved, maybe how they traveled together. They’ll talk about the hours they spent together. And they’ll share a personalized story: “Well, we found that window in an abandoned church.”

They also want a finished product that is absolutely customized and tells a story about them. At one time, the consumer would basically bring a picture or two, or choose photos from a book provided by the designer. It was almost like choosing out of a catalog: “I like this one.” Then the designer went to achieve it. There would be slight changes — a little shift in color or moving something from here to there.

Now the consumer is coming in and saying, “I don’t want to keep up with the Joneses — I want to stay away from the Joneses. I want something for me.” There’s a hunger for customization. People bring their initials, family crests and heirlooms to be incorporated into their pool designs. I design mosaics, and I receive plenty of requests for customized mosaic murals, whether it’s a small medallion or covers the entire pool. That creates a personal connection.

I think of it like they’re getting a tattoo — it has to represent something in their lives, and they want that to be a part of the story, so they can tell others what that mural means to them. It’s not good enough to look good — it has to connect them personally to that environment.

And then many of these clients are looking for an educational journey — a learning opportunity. For instance, they may not care about the technical aspect of the job, and they’re usually willing to trust you with that. But they’ll still ask, “What type of pump are you using and why? What’s the capacity?” It’s information that’s not necessarily going to help them in any way — they have the warranty and everything they need to know if something were to go wrong. But I honestly believe they just want to learn. Because they’re emotionally connected to their environment, they’re curious about what’s happening to it.

Adapting to the task

I have to admit, this shift in the power dynamic can have a little bit of an effect on the ego for a designer.

I also come from an old-school approach where you’re the designer — you’re the professional, almost like a surgeon or doctor. So when you sense an attitude of, “I’m not going to take medical advice from you,” there can be ego involved.

I first realized that this shift was occurring when I was presenting a client with a portfolio of my work. They looked at it as if to say, “Good for you, but that’s not what we want.” It felt a bit like a personal attack. I asked, “But if you don’t like my work, why are you here?” They explained that they liked the work, but they didn’t want to copy any of it for themselves.

Those clients helped me figure myself out as a designer, that I am more than just a specific aesthetic — that I create meaningful, functional spaces that really connect with that specific consumer. They helped me understand that it’s not just the final look that matters, it’s really that higher-level connection. I had to check my ego and really think about how to make design not about me, because it’s more about their vision, ideas, stories and journey. My job is to make sure they get all that, not just a nice, pretty end result.

We designers have to adjust because this is a reality in the new world of the consumer. They are in charge, they are in the lead. Even manufacturers are following the lead of consumers, not of the designer, to learn what they want and need. This has not only occurred with pool or interior design: We also see fashion designers relying on consumers for input. Furniture companies will publish 10 designs on social media and ask consumers to vote for their favorite to help determine what gets included in their next line.

I enjoy this interaction with clients, because I know that, ultimately, the space is for them. It’s appropriate that they take charge of what they want their environment to look like, how it feels, and how they interact with it.

The designer’s ideas and input are still very important. A client can pick a paint color they like, but they have no idea what to do with it. But that customer acts almost like a project manager, leading the designer down the right path, so they can create this beautiful masterpiece.

True partnership

I often am asked what I do to bring clients in the passenger seat with me.

Make them your assistant versus your client. Open the dialogue completely, and make it all about them, not about the design or the outcome of the design. You also have to allow them to be in the passenger seat to enjoy the journey with you, not just the destination. Shoot for the customer’s heart, not just their business.

Engagement and creating an emotional connection will make a customer relationship the driving force for loyalty and differentiation. It also gives the customer something very special: they will want to tell others about it. Over a lifetime, emotionally connected customers are more than twice as valuable as highly satisfied customers. These emotionally connected customers buy more of your products and services, visit you more often, exhibit less price sensitivity, pay more attention to your communications, follow your advice, and recommend you more — everything you hope their experience with you will cause them to do. All of this because you have allowed them to be a critical part of finding the solution and not just getting there.

Let’s face it: Today’s consumers are more diverse, interconnected and demanding than ever before. Their expectations are rising while their propensity to be loyal to you is declining. If they are not in the passenger seat, they are in the driver’s seat.

It is in our nature to tell stories. It’s what makes us human, and it’s essential for our survival. There is a psychological comfort in telling our own story. These stories connect us to our emotions and the physical relationship to our environment.

Let your customer tell their story with you. Let them enjoy the journey and be a part of it as much as possible. Allow them to get credit for some of the journey and be a part of the final solution. Most importantly, make them a part of their own story and their journey with you. It is the story they will tell over and over because they helped to write it.