At this year’s New York edition of the Computational Design Symposium CDFAM, I had a long conversation with two fellow educators, one from Los Angeles, the other from London. Despite our different contexts, we all noticed the same thing: students seem less curious than before. They hesitate when faced with open-ended assignments, especially those without a clear “right” answer. In design education, where the entire point is experimentation, this is not just concerning. It is a crisis.

I currently teach and coordinate a Visualization course at New York Institute of Technology (NYIT) focused on 3D modeling, using primarily SubD techniques, as well as rendering and visualization workflows. Over the past two years, we’ve also integrated AI into the curriculum, first with Midjourney and now with Vizcom for early conceptual design. In this class and other workshops I teach, I push against that tendency. I ask students to focus less on outcomes and more on process and research, and to remain curious even when things fail. Curiosity and the ability to embrace uncertainty are not just nice traits, they define what it means to be a designer.

Why Curiosity Matters More Than Mastery

I currently teach a course introducing second-year architecture students to AI ideation tools like Vizcom. These tools are changing so quickly that by the time the students graduate, they’ll likely be using something entirely different. In fact, in the short period between writing the assignment and delivering the demo, the software had already changed. But the point of teaching tools like these is not to achieve mastery of any specific piece of software. It is learning to think with emerging tools, understanding their logic, limitations, and possibilities.

At my studio, Slicelab, we take the same approach. Two years ago, our curiosity led us to test how and if early concept sketches could evolve into tangible products using AI workflows. Our team focused on the design and ideation process, taking some of our original sketches for the Velox shoe and, using Midjourney, and other AI tools, explored endless variations in form, patterns, and structure. The goal wasn’t to master all available generative AI tools. It was to connect the dots between ideas and technologies, and to see how digital thinking could merge with material craft.

We then partnered with Variant3D to translate those digital patterns into a fully functional 3D-knitted upper for the Velox AI shoe concept. The project reminded us that every new tool is an opportunity to reimagine the boundaries of design itself, and that a single experiment can transform the way we think about making altogether.

The Paradox of Exploration

Exploration is paradoxical. It demands both humility and confidence. The humility to admit we do not know everything, and the confidence to dive into the unknown anyway.

In architecture and design practice, we obsess over practical skills, softwares we need for deadlines, or tools that make us "hireable." But exploration has value that transcends immediate utility. This requires accumulated knowledge, deliberate effort, and the willingness to connect dots that do not yet appear connected. 

Last month, I finally took a weekend to learn ComfyUI during a workshop. Two days later, I was using it to explore ideas for the Pompidou Plaza renovation in Paris. They're closing the center for renovation for five years, so why not imagine what the plaza could become? A pool in the summer? An ice rink in the winter? An experiment with AI helped me take these things out of my head and put them on the screen. See the animation below - isn’t this amazing?

Whether or not I use ComfyUI again is irrelevant. The exercise opened new ways of thinking about architectural interventions, moving AI beyond pretty images toward genuine design exploration. 

It took only a few hours to generate multiple ideas and animations. But behind those few hours were years of accumulated skill, attention, and effort. Exploration is not effortless; it is built upon the discipline of constant learning. 

What is at Stake?

The conversation at CDFAM really stuck with me. Three educators from different parts of the world, all seeing the same shift: students seem less willing to explore anything that doesn’t have an immediate application or a guaranteed outcome. Honestly, I can understand why. The world feels uncertain, and the pressure to be “career-ready” pushes many toward what feels safe.

However, that is exactly why exploration matters more than ever. In the courses I teach, I'm creating a space where experiments can be messy and unresolved. I want students to understand that a failed attempt is not wasted effort but it’s part of building intuition and thinking skills, which are essential for becoming a great designer. In a culture obsessed with instant results, we must remind ourselves that meaningful design takes time, patience, and persistence. 

Curiosity, Knowledge, and Effort

The design tool landscape is transforming faster than any of us can track: AI-powered design assistants, computational methods, and new fabrication technologies. However, what matters is not mastery of these tools. It is keeping an explorer’s mindset, combining curiosity, knowledge, and effort. 

One last example from my own practice captures this shift well. Beyond image tools, I often use Large Language Models (LLMs) as research assistants. When I’m developing more complex workflows in Grasshopper, I’ll ask a few of the LLMs to map out Python libraries that I might not know, or that would be worth investigating, and to draft experimental scripts I can immediately test. Some of these might fail completely. But others might shift the way I would tackle a particular workflow. In a single conversation, I can uncover techniques or pathways that might have taken weeks to discover on my own. The value there isn’t in offloading the work, but it’s in expanding the possibilities and accelerating the pace at which we can problem-solve.

The designers who will thrive are not the ones who memorize every new tool, but the ones who stay willing to explore those without guarantees. In an era of rapid technological change, staying deliberately and persistently curious may be the most radical act of design left.

Stay curious.