The Thesis, the Table, and Three Women
I don’t want to forget this day.
After days of insomnia and panic attacks, I gathered myself as best I could. I made myself pretty—because, yes, it helps. It helps my self-esteem, my confidence, my courage. So I went the extra mile: did my hair, did my makeup.
It’s funny how that’s not my usual—I’m a bit of a classic hippie, most days natural and bare-faced—but sometimes, stepping a little out of that helps me feel grounded.
Anyway, back to the point…
I was nervous. Very nervous. This meeting meant a lot to me—mentally, emotionally, academically. I was about to sit down with three incredible women, pillars of Politecnico. After everything I’ve been through lately, showing up in that room and being present felt like dragging myself out of a black hole.
I biked to campus. The meeting was in the Design Department building—the one that students normally don’t have access to. The kind of building that has a door code, that houses professors and PhD students. That detail alone made everything feel more… official, maybe even intimidating.
I arrived early. 16:28. The meeting was at 16:30. I waited outside, checking my paper and notes one last time, giving myself a little pep talk. Eventually, a woman exited and held the door open. I slipped inside.
I found the room—Uno Tre. I saw the little screen on the wall displaying:
“Booked for Thesis Soldanescu.”
That’s me.
This meeting was about my master’s thesis. And not just any meeting: a new direction, and a new supervisory team. Actually, three of them.
A Little Context (Okay, Maybe a Lot)
During my Master’s, there was one professor who really stood out to me. She taught Design Theory and Philosophy. She’s someone I admire deeply—someone I’d like to grow into. She’s written about the responsibility of designers, ethics in design, capitalism, consumerism… all the things I love to read, talk, and debate about.
In her class, we debated taboo topics. Like AI—is it good or bad? And depending on whose perspective? Because, let’s be honest, life is about perspectives. Truth is subjective. Normal? Just a concept. What’s normal to me might be odd to you. And that’s okay.
So, naturally, I hoped she would become my supervisor. She just got it.
Back in March, inspired by a few books I’d been reading, I decided to center my thesis on the responsibility of designers to create ethical, socially conscious products.
I highly recommend the book Ruined by Design by Mike Monteiro.
https://www.ruinedby.design/
A sharp, bold critique of the design industry, Monteiro argues that designers are not just hands-for-hire; we’re responsible for the impact of what we create. He calls on us to stop hiding behind clients and business needs and instead hold ourselves to ethical standards.
It’s angry, it’s necessary, and it’ll stay with you.
How I Got Here
Reading has always been a huge part of who I am—something inherited from my parents. They’re both big readers; you know how it goes: children do what they see, not what they’re told. I saw them read, so I read.
In high school, it was all about crime thrillers. Then came the mandatory literature—I actually liked it. I still remember this one book about femininity, or maybe just about love. It was about a boy obsessed with a woman. He described her, her essence, page after page. I related so much to him, it felt like I was the boy.
In my twenties, my reading obsessions shifted toward anthropology, psychology, philosophy, and society. At 18, I almost chose psychology as my field of study. The desire to understand human nature was (and still is) overwhelming.
Why do we act the way we do? Why do we repeat mistakes throughout history? What’s the deal with our political systems failing us again and again? Is it bad luck? Or is something broken deep down?
Anyway, off track again. See? I need training. This tendency to tangent is something I definitely must not do in my academic writing.
A Shift in My Thesis
Back to the point: I wanted my thesis to address the ethical responsibility of designers because designers shape the everyday objects people interact with.
According to semiotics, objects mean nothing without context—social, cultural, and emotional. We design things that make people feel cool, empowered, worthy, and part of a trend.
But for far too long, designers haven’t been held responsible. Social media platforms, for example, are designed to be addictive. And yet no designer is held accountable for that. That’s unethical. Designing for addiction, for profit? That should be unacceptable. Designing products that break easily and contribute to waste and environmental collapse? Also unethical.
We can’t just design what we’re told to without running it through our ethical filter.
For a long time, we got away with it. But I believe that’s finally changing.
Again, read Ruined by Design. And if you haven’t read Viktor Papanek or Don Norman, do. They were some of the first to raise these questions—questions about the true responsibility of the designer.
The Pivot
When I first shared my thesis idea with friends—from pilots to therapists to economists—some laughed. “Good luck,” they said. “Sounds like you’re trying to save the world.”
They had valid points. It was broad. Very broad.
So I pitched it to my favorite professor. She agreed to be my supervisor and gently nudged me toward a more focused direction. I started researching, slowly, but I quickly realized I was too close to the subject. Too emotionally involved. Too biased. I didn’t think I could write an objective thesis anymore.
Back to zero.
Then I remembered my curiosity about neurodesign, inclusivity, and how products affect cognition. I started digging and eventually landed on a new topic:
How the physical aspects of industrial design—form, shape, texture—impact our cognitive processing.
Bingo. There it was.
I shared the idea with my supervisor. She loved it. She told me it was a beautiful direction—but recommended another professor, an expert in CMF (Color, Material, Finish) and cognitive interaction. She could guide me better.
At first, I was disappointed. I didn’t want to lose my favorite professor. But then I understood—she was guiding me the best way she could.
I reached out to the new professor. She responded kindly and arranged a meeting, also inviting a PhD student and a third supervisor.
Today Was the Day
I found the room. Knocked.
They opened the door and apologized—they were wrapping up a brainstorming session. But they invited me in, welcomed me to the big table.
I took a seat. Big black table. Two across from me, one beside me—the PhD student.
What happened next was so beautiful…
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