Web Design Studies

The tools – the craft behind the first websites

An important part of the study was working with software. Not as a support tool, but as the very entrance to understanding the digital craft.

Through image processing in Photoshop, we learned how visual expressions could be shaped. We worked with colors, contrasts, composition and adaptation to the screen. These were not just aesthetic choices. It was about how information appears, and how the user perceives what is presented.

At the same time, we worked on the actual construction of the websites. Everything had to be built manually. There were no ready-made solutions that took care of structure or navigation. Every page had to be planned, every link had to be set up, and every context had to be understood.

This created a completely different kind of closeness to what you were developing. You couldn't hide behind systems. You had to understand what you were doing.

Animations were also used as part of the expression. At the time, this was a relatively new element, and it required a conscious approach. Too much animation created noise. Too little made the solution static. Balance was crucial.

It was in this work that understanding began to emerge:
It's not about what you can do technically – but what you should do for the user.

Case work – when everything has to work together

One of the most demanding, but also most educational elements of the study was the work on the practical case study. We were tasked with developing a complete web solution for an imaginary furniture company – a task that initially appeared to be relatively simple, but which quickly turned out to contain far more dimensions than initially thought.

It was in this work that theory – or what we thought was theory – met reality. Suddenly it was no longer about individual elements such as images, text or structure in isolation. It was about how all of this would work together, simultaneously, in one holistic solution.

The design had to be not only visually appealing, but also help the user intuitively understand where he or she was. The structure had to be logically structured, but at the same time flexible enough to handle different types of content. The navigation had to be so simple that it did not require explanation – and at the same time so clear that it could not be misunderstood.

A realization arose along the way:

It's not the individual elements that determine the quality of a digital solution. It's the interaction between them.

The work also required an awareness of prioritization. What is most important? What needs to be done first? How do we guide the user forward without overloading the page with information? We didn't necessarily have a ready-made language for these questions, but we worked on them – concretely, practically and continuously.

The feedback on the solution confirmed that this whole thing worked.

The description of the solution as “beautiful and good” was important in itself, but perhaps even more interesting was what lay behind the formulation. It wasn’t just about aesthetics. It was about balance. About control. About understanding.

The fact that the animations were perceived as entertaining without being disruptive shows an early understanding of something that is absolutely central today:

That instruments should support the experience – not dominate it.

The fact that the menus were described as neat and clear points directly to the ability to structure information in a way that makes sense to the user.

This was no coincidence. It was the result of work, reflection, and a growing understanding of how digital solutions actually work.

The insight – what we learned without knowing it

When one looks back on this study using today's terminology, it becomes clear that the learning went far beyond what was explicitly formulated in the teaching.

We didn't just learn how to create websites. We learned to understand how people encounter digital surfaces.
It happened gradually, almost imperceptibly. Through small adjustments. Through trial and error. Through the experience of what worked – and what didn't.

• We learned that a poor structure creates uncertainty.

• We learned that unclear navigation creates frustration.

• We learned that good design is not only pretty, but understandable.

These are insights that today are the very foundation of disciplines like user experience and interaction design. But at the time, these were not defined as separate disciplines. It was not something you could read about in the same way. It had to be experienced.

It is precisely this type of learning that often leaves the deepest mark: the kind that comes not through theory alone, but through experience.

In retrospect, this appears as a form of “tacit knowledge” – an understanding that is embedded in the way one thinks, without necessarily being formulated in clear concepts.

It is also here that we see the beginning of something that has later become a common thread in your work:
The ability to see the whole, not just individual components.

Relevance – from 1998 to today

When you look up and see the development from 1998 to today, it's easy to be overwhelmed by how much has changed. Technology has developed at a pace few could have predicted. The tools have become more advanced, more accessible and far more user-friendly. But at the same time, there is something that has not changed.

The basic principles stand.
Today, you can create a website in a few hours. You can use ready-made templates, automated solutions and advanced publishing systems. Yet we see time and time again that many digital solutions do not work as they should.

Why?
Because it's not the technology that determines quality. It's the understanding.
What we learned in 1998 – about structure, navigation and user needs – is still the foundation for good digital solutions. The difference is that complexity has increased. Users expect more. Choices are more numerous. Competition for attention is greater.

In such a reality, the basic principles become even more important.

It's not enough to be online.

You have to function online.

This is a distinction that is still not clear enough in many businesses, and this is precisely where this early experience provides an advantage. It provides an understanding that does not depend on tools, but on principles.

The foundation – the start of a professional direction

When viewed in a longer perspective, it becomes clear that this study represents more than a single learning period. It is the start of a direction – a professional orientation that has subsequently been further developed through experience, study and work.

What was established here wasn't just skills. It was a way of thinking.

A way of approaching problems, where one seeks to understand connections before finding solutions. A way of working, where structure and user needs take precedence over technical possibilities. A way of assessing quality, where the whole weighs more heavily than individual elements.

This is an understanding that has proven to be robust over time. It has withstood technological shifts, new platforms, and new ways of working.

It is also this understanding that underlies the perspective that value is created in interaction. Not in isolated measures, not in individual projects, but in the encounter between people, technology and organization.

Studying web design in 1998 was perhaps not intended to be the start of a long professional journey. But that's exactly what it turned out to be.

Not because the technology was advanced.
But because the understanding that was developed proved to be lasting.

When chance opened the door

When I finished my web design degree, I didn't really have a clear plan for how I would use my skills in practice. There were few established roles in this field, and the path forward was not obvious.

One day I was sitting in the canteen at SAS in Fornebuveien with the then marketing manager, Thomas Havnegjerde. In an informal conversation, he asked what I did outside of work, and I told him that I had recently completed a web design degree.

He reacted immediately and asked if I had seen that SAS Norway had advertised a position as an Internet manager. I hadn't.

The conversation made me aware of an opportunity I otherwise wouldn't have picked up on. I applied for the position through the regular recruitment process, and shortly after, I was offered the role.
What had until then been an interest and a study outside of work suddenly became a new professional direction.

But it didn't stop there.

Just a week and a half after I started in the role, Thomas approached me again. He told me that I would be participating in a large project in Stockholm – a project that would develop the first commercial web solution for SAS. It would involve a lot of travel, and it would be a long-term job.

It was the start of something far bigger than I could have imagined at the time.
For a year and a half I commuted to Stockholm. Every Tuesday morning I would travel to SAS’s headquarters in Frösundavik, returning on Wednesday. There, at the SAS Royal Hotel in Frösundavik, we sat together – a Nordic team – and worked intensively with suppliers to develop what would become one of the company’s first digital initiatives.

It was a time of pace, learning and close collaboration. Together with skilled and committed colleagues from Sweden and Denmark – including Ola Strangeways and Christian Mejlvang – we built not only a solution, but also an understanding of what digitalization could be.

It wasn't just a journey in the physical sense. It was a journey into a profession. A journey that started with curiosity, continued with a degree – and which, through a seemingly random conversation in a cafeteria, developed into a career that has lasted to this day.