Notes from building an AI design collaborator · part 17
"Out of scope" usually means "we'll repaint this in six months"
· 3 min read
We say "out of scope" like it settles something. It doesn't, not really. Half the time it just means "we'll rip this apart and redo it in six months when the thing we pretended wasn't coming finally arrives." I've done it plenty. You draw a clean little solution for exactly today's requirement, ship it, feel good, and then the next requirement lands and the clean little solution shatters because it was built to hold exactly one thing and no more.
The problem isn't scoping. Scoping is good, you have to say no to something. The problem is that "out of scope" is a single blunt bucket, and it treats two very different kinds of no as if they were the same.
Two flavours of no
Some things you're saying no to forever. We are not building this, we are not accommodating it, it is not part of what this product is. Fine. Draw a hard line and don't spend a second designing around it.
But other things you're only saying no to for now. You're not building it yet, but you can already see it coming. That's a completely different no, and lumping it in with the first one is how you end up repainting. Because if you design as though it's never coming, you build the tight little thing that has to be torn out the moment it does.
So I split them. Excluded, meaning gone, forget it. And design-forward, meaning not now, but shape the pattern so it can absorb this without a rebuild. Same word "no," two totally different instructions to yourself.
Carry it as a constraint, not a maybe
The design-forward ones don't sit in a someday pile. They ride along as actual constraints, into the information architecture, into the wireframes, into the validation pass. Not "let's build the future now," which is the opposite mistake and just as expensive. More like "leave the door in the wall." Don't furnish the room you're not building. Just don't brick up the doorway to it, because you already know you're walking through it next quarter.
In practice it's small. A layout that has somewhere to put the second thing. A model that won't choke when the not-yet-supported case shows up. Naming that doesn't assume there's only ever one of something. Cheap now, and it's the exact stuff that's brutally expensive to retrofit later.
"Out of scope" is hiding two decisions. Pull them apart. Some things are excluded, and you design as if they don't exist, guilt-free. Some things are just not-yet, and for those you design the near-future in, quietly, as a constraint, so the thing you ship today can grow into the thing you already know is coming.
Say no in two flavours. It's the difference between scoping a release and scheduling your own rework.
Part of a series on building an AI collaborator for our design team at Xflow. Each post stands on its own.
- design-craft
The rest of Notes from building an AI design collaborator
- 1. I stopped describing my product to AI. I just gave it the HTML.
- 2. I gave the AI my design process, not my design decisions
- 3. I turned my design process into a dozen small skills, not one giant prompt
- 4. I built a free tool that gives your AI your real product
- 5. I taught the AI to push designs into Figma. Then it quietly stopped.
- 6. We rebuilt our Figma design system out of the code, not the other way round
- 7. We ran our design process on itself, and it broke in useful ways
- 8. How do you teach an AI your taste?
- 9. It worked great on the smart model. Then I ran it on a cheaper one.
- 10. The AI told me our brand colour with total confidence, and it was wrong
- 11. A screen list lies. I found a whole feature I didn't know we shipped.
- 12. Our documentation updates itself, because updating it is the AI's job
- 13. I sat down to turn my workflow into a swarm of agents. Most of it refused.
- 14. Every modal in our app shared one URL. Our analytics couldn't tell them apart.
- 15. My AI's rules only worked because one tool bothered to read them
- 16. Six designers, one GitHub account, and a script that saves us from ourselves