Brand and experience look at each other from two sides of the same mirror. The brand answers the question "why do you exist?": it is the promise. The experience answers "what do you do?": it is the proof. The brand's scope is the company, its focus values and meanings; the experience's scope is the product or service, its focus actions and interactions. They are inseparable concepts that influence each other — and the balance of power between them defines, very concretely, the designer's job.
Having worked in luxury, telecommunications and public administration, I've encountered three typical configurations of this relationship. Each comes with an unspoken "brand truth" — and a different craft.
Scenario 1: the sovereign brand (luxury & fashion)
"I'm too beautiful to care about selling."
The luxury brand truth
In a luxury company, the brand is everything: brand = product; the objects are mere "supports". The company's entire activity is oriented towards protecting the brand: no action must ever weaken it. The designer works in the service of the brand, which defines the boundaries of their work and guides their choices, often leaving very little freedom.
The constraints are merciless: in the perception of certain brands, "usable", "standard" and "accessible" sound cheap; the users' point of view can be deemed irrelevant; testing culture is scarce because "we're not interested in selling" — the brand won't optimize commercial performance at the expense of premium perception. The designer's challenge is to "sell without selling": creating experiences that work for the business without eroding brand perception. The silver lining: luxury brands are defined so precisely and in such detail that, once you have the mandate, a digital design system can be built fast.
Scenario 2: the frustrated brand (telco)
"We both know you only care about the gigabytes, but I'll never admit it."
The telco brand truth
In an incumbent telco, the brand tries — laboriously — to create a perception of value in a commoditized context. User perception is often negative, customers are frustrated, and the most critical dimension is trust. Above all: the brand message and the business model are in conflict. "We are a simple, transparent company", says the brand; then the offers are complicated and unclearly worded, conditions are hidden, and low-value plans sink to the bottom of the page.
The designer is caught between hammer and anvil: they must design the experience told by the brand but contradicted by the business. Their task becomes twofold: create the best experience possible for the context, and evangelize the value of simplicity — turning design from a cost center into a revenue center, because in this scenario qualitative evidence only counts when tied to a revenue model.
Scenario 3: the absent brand (public administration)
"I don't know who I am — but you need me anyway."
The public-sector brand truth
In a public institution, the brand typically doesn't exist: user perception is unmanaged, communication is inconsistent and disordered, there is no strategy. The designer — if there is one — has a free hand, for better or worse. What's missing is a culture of objectives that helps people "agree", and any competitive pressure forcing the organization to understand users' needs ("they need me anyway").
But right here hides the most radical opportunity of the three scenarios:
It is the complete inversion of the luxury scenario: no longer the experience serving the brand, but the brand built on the experience. It is exactly what happened at INPS, where the Sirio design system preceded and drove the rebranding — a bottom-up journey that produced a digital-first identity.
Five conclusions
- Brand and experience are inseparable, and influence each other.
- The designer must adapt goals, tools and approach to the context. What works in luxury is wrong in government, and vice versa.
- There are no absolute truths.
- Design is defined by its constraints: we are not artists.
- And it's a fun job.