Best of Design Matters: Lulu Miller

Design Matters with Debbie Millman - Design Matters Media

In this episode of Design Matters, acclaimed journalist and author Lulu Miller reflects on her early life, creative origins, and the profound influence of her

Key takeaways

• Existential truths shared by her father at age seven deeply influenced Miller's worldview, instilling both nihilism and a sense of freedom.
• Creative expression through long-form writing began as an imaginative escape rooted in physical space and tactile experience.

Main topics

• The impact of parental philosophy on childhood development
• Creative origins and the role of physical space in writing

Notable quotes

"He kind of took a big what I believed to be delighted pause. And then he kind of chuckled and said, you know, there is no meaning... just like, just stamped out everything."

"I mean, now that I have an almost seven-year-old, I think that I am taken aback of like, Not even that it was harsh, but how declarative it was."

Conclusion

Lulu Miller's journey reveals how personal philosophy, creative expression, and parenthood

Transcript preview

Speaker 2 (0:00) This episode of Design Matters originally appeared in August of 2025. She Speaker 4 (0:06) finally looked at me and was just like, what are you doing here? Your questions aren't going to bring him back. I didn't have an answer. And I remember driving back like 14 hours to New York through this thunderstorm, just thinking like, I don't have an answer. I don't have the like backbone. I don't have the like ethical compass to be doing this work. This microphone is too powerful and I have not grown. up enough to hold it. And at that time, I was just like, I want out. I should never do this. I'm messing with people's lives. I'm making people feel worse. I don't belong here. Speaker 2 (0:39) From the TED Audio Collective, this is Design Matters with Debbie Millman. Speaker 2 (0:46) On Design Matters, Debbie talks with some of the most creative people in the world about what they do, how they got to be who they are, and what they're thinking about and working on. On this episode, writer and radio host Lulu Miller talks about the conflicts in her career and about going deep into reporting. Speaker 4 (1:04) Literally smelling the pocket notebooks in his archives that I eventually visited that had been, like, collecting the sweat near his heart. Like, I got intimate with this guy. Speaker 1 (1:19) Support comes from WISE, the smart way to manage the currencies you need around the world. Your life is global. Your money should be too. Some providers promise no fees on overseas transfers. Don't be fooled. Extra costs often hide in bloated exchange rates. Choose WISE. You can send, spend and receive money in over 40 currencies. Count on the exchange rates that you'd usually see on Google. That's how millions save billions on hidden fees. Be smart. Get WISE. Visit WISE.com. T's and C's apply. Hi, Speaker 3 (1:50) I'm Adam Grant, host of the podcast Rethinking, a show where I talk to some of today's greatest thinkers about the unconventional ways they see the world. On Rethinking, you'll get surprising insights from scientists, leaders, artists, and more. People like Reese Witherspoon, Malcolm Gladwell, and Yo-Yo Ma. Hear lessons to help you find success at work, build better relationships, and more. Find Rethinking wherever you get your podcasts. Speaker 5 (2:18) Lulu Miller is a Peabody Award-winning journalist, an essayist, the co-host of Radiolab, and the founder of the podcast Terrestrials. She's also the co-founder of Invisibilia, the groundbreaking NPR show that explored the invisible forces that shape human behavior. Lulu is also a prolific writer, and her work has appeared in The New Yorker, The Virginia Quarterly Review, and Catapult. And her first book, Why Fish Don't Exist, was named a Best Book of the Year by NPR, The Washington Post, The Smithsonian, and so many others. Known for her curiosity, her rigor, and unmistakable voice, Lulu's work blends science, philosophy, and personal storytelling in ways that make us rethink what we think we know about the world. and about ourselves. Lulu Miller, welcome to Design Matters. Oh, Speaker 4 (3:18) Debbie, it's so nice to be here. Speaker 5 (3:21) So, Lulu, I want to start with this question. It was very bewildering to me, actually. Is it true that your least favorite word in the world is cerulean? I Speaker 4 (3:32) hate it. I can't believe you found that random interview. Yes, I think cerulean is like... It's like the epitome of everything wrong with words. I think it is this overly fancy, showy word for something that we all have access to, a beauty we all have access to, the sky, like that. The color is one of my favorite things that is out there. And then this word, to me, it's just too fancy. And I get that maybe in a sort of... The way it sounds, it kind of sounds like pools and it's like cerulean. I do get little images in my head, but I just think it's too fancy and it just makes people feel bad who don't know what it means. And I hate that word when I see it. Do you hate the color? I love the color. I think it is one of the best colors. And that's probably why I feel so passionately about the word. And like if I hear someone using it, I try not to be judgy, but I judge. Who are you trying to shut out with that word? And what pedestal are you trying to put yourself on top of? I really have beef with that word. Well, in the four-color printing process, Speaker 5 (4:47) we have a bunch of different colors, one of which is a word that I hate. But I also hate the color, which is cyan. Very, very close cousins of cerulean. Yeah. Why do you hate Speaker 4 (4:58) that? Speaker 5 (4:59) Why do you hate the word? The name is so, cyan. Really ugly, ugly word. Speaker 4 (5:06) Well, to me, cyan, I don't know. The Y gives it a little shimmer. Like, I like the cyan. Anyway, it's so weird, these associations we bring. I love Speaker 5 (5:16) that you have words that you love and hate. I do, too. And it's fun to be able to talk to that with somebody that doesn't think I'm weird. Speaker 5 (5:27) Lulu, you grew up in Newton, Massachusetts. Your father was a science professor. Your mother was a professor of humanities. Speaker 4 (5:34) Not Speaker 5 (5:34) a surprise. You started writing at a very young age. And I read that you did this by taking reams of computer paper, this sort of old school, continuous accordion sheet with Caraway perforations on the side, from your dad's computer to his printer, and wrote for hours. Without ever tearing the paper. So this long sheet of paper would emerge with your writing. How long did the accordion paper get? Speaker 4 (6:06) I mean, it would be long. These questions are so great. It would be longer than the bed I was lying on. And I would write on my stomach. I would go into my parents' bedroom when they were out doing other things and just feel like the queen bed was this like massive pool of... you know, like a horizon, like anything was possible. And then the paper itself would feel like sledding. Like I could go anywhere. And, you know, I'm still doing it. I mean, right here, I still kind of do a version of it. I always write. I'm just holding up these notes. And like I add some words get big and some get small. And I think it was just this feeling of. I can take this story wherever it goes, you know, and they were usually when I was little, they were just like wild things about talking animals and, oh, you know, a bat and let's, oh, here's a sunken boat. Let's get the bat. If it got on the steering wheel of the boat, could it lodge it out of the mud and take it down the river and just kind of keep doing this mix of my imagination and then physical reality and just keep. seeming where those two things with kind of the imagination with the constraint of physical reality would go. And there, yeah, there is just, there's something so inviting about that literal white page and words being able to, in moments, become drawings and then go back to words. And yeah, it's like I'm getting chills right now thinking about it just because it felt so delicious and fun, like a really neat way to just kind of escape. I was really fascinated by Speaker 5 (7:34) that bat story, mostly because somehow in that story, your dad is able to catch the bat in Tupperware. Speaker 4 (7:45) Yeah, yeah. So that one, I think, was inspired by this bat that flew into our house. And my dad went up on a ladder to get it in Tupperware. And we all, my mom and sisters and I, ran out. I don't know why we were so afraid of the bat, but it was some instinctual, like, human... flying, they're not rodents, but whatever, flying thing, response. But then we left him there and he was like screaming, hub, hub, hub, because he hadn't brought up a top or a piece of paper. So then there was this angry bat in the Tupperware. And then finally, I think my mom went back in and got him a top and then he took it out. Speaker 5 (8:18) Yeah, I learned from your book that we'll talk about in a bit about the fact that bats aren't rodents, but we'll talk about that later. But it is a fascinating fact. Speaker 4 (8:30) When Speaker 5 (8:31) you were seven years old, you went on vacation with your family to Wellfleet. And there, standing in a marsh, you asked your father if he knew the meaning of life. Speaker 4 (8:42) Yep. Speaker 5 (8:43) What did he tell you? Speaker 4 (8:45) He kind of took a big what I. believed to be delighted pause. And then he kind of chuckled and said, you know, there is no meaning, there's no magic, there's no point, there's no plan, there's no destiny, there's no God, there's no heaven, just like, just stamped out everything, including meaning. I mean, which was really like interesting. He just is kind of, and then he went on this tirade about how we're just, we're no different than the ants right below our feet. And we're just kind of Walking around, evolution happened to have put us here on the planet. And if you look at the whole timeline of evolution, we're this tiny pinch that's just here at this moment and will probably be gone soon. And things like cockroaches and horseshoe crabs will probably outlive us. And we're not any more important to the world or the planet than anything else. And we're just, it's all kind of random. And then I think he paused and said, actually, we might be less important to the planet than many things like ants that, you know, at least. decompose particles and sometimes aerate the soil. And I don't see us doing much of that. So, yeah. Did that mean that he didn't think that anything mattered? He walks around and says stuff like that all the time with kind of, and not in a depressive way, in a very like delightful nihilist carpe diem sort of way. And in a sort of like playfully provocative way, he certainly says that. And I certainly believed that for a long time. Although watching him, I think things really do matter to him. I think people matter to him and making people feel good matters to him. I think ceramics, he got back into throwing pots in his retirement matters to him. I think humor matters to him. You know, you see things that matter, but he would say no. Speaker 5 (10:36) It's a... big concept to share with a seven-year-old. And you described your father's answer to your question as a kind of thunderbolt. Speaker 4 (10:47) What Speaker 5 (10:48) did it feel to be handed that truth at seven? Speaker 4 (10:53) I mean, it felt normal. Like, I mean, now that I have an almost seven-year-old, I think that I am taken aback of like, Not even that it was harsh, but how declarative it was. Like it was its own kind of certainty and its own kind of dogma, which I just being such a daddy's girl, like believed and didn't question for a long time. But at the time, it felt like, oh, like it was the spiritual truth that I then just needed to, I mean, and a part of me still believes it. Like I haven't totally. shaking it at all. So I think it just felt like, hmm, okay, well, that feels like truth. And somehow, if I abide by that, I'll get to a place where I'm like this guy who loves his family and loves his work and doesn't really care what people think of him and is weird and funny and seems to be pretty happy. So it felt like a key. It felt true. Speaker 5 (11:58) Thereafter, you've written about how many of the big questions that you asked your parents about life were met with a mix of nihilism or ambiguity. And it seems, looking at your timeline, that this is also when you started to feel questions about what it meant to be happy. were depressed, you started to see a therapist. Do you think that that had any correlation? Speaker 4 (12:32) Oh, yeah. I don't think it made me depressed or like anything like that. But I do think that when I got to my lowest and I feel so much more comfortable talking about this now that I've written about it. But like once I would feel suicidal, which now I'm like, oh, I believe about 50 percent of people feel that at some point. I don't think it's as scary of a thing to say as I used to. But yeah, like once I felt like, oh, life is too hard or or humanity is too hard on people. And I don't have any hope that we're going to change because I don't have faith. I don't have a religious system. I don't think that. evolution necessarily guarantees any kind of moral evolution. And if I just feel small and not good at changing the world and not good at feeling happy, and I just feel sad about the way certain people are being treated, and I don't have hope in our species, yeah, then some days I would want to leave the planet and leave existence. And I would think about, that's when I would think about it. That's when it would rise up and be like, there's no point. It doesn't matter. And I think I would always remember feeling like, Oh, well, if I'm someone who came out, who evolution spat out with thinner skin and life hurts, then I guess like if nothing matters except maybe our sensory experiences and it feels painful to be alive, then maybe I'll just. Take myself out. And that was kind of that's when it would come back up. It was like right when I'd be at the edge. And then this thing felt like a neon sign saying go over, you know, like it didn't I couldn't find a chain link fence. I couldn't find a reason not to. Although I guess obviously I did because spoiler alert, I'm still alive. Well. Speaker 5 (14:15) You described feeling at that time that you had a parable-sized hole in your heart. Speaker 2 (14:21) And Speaker 5 (14:22) you have spoken candidly about trying to end your life when you were 15. After you left the medical facility, when you recovered, you've written about how your body Speaker 4 (14:32) was probably crying for help. Speaker 5 (14:35) But your words and your brain were still smiling and laughing and reassuring that you were fine. If not more, yeah. I did that too as I was growing up. I went through quite a lot of really terrible abusive experiences but always wanted to be the happy girl, wanted to make sure no one thought that I was damaged or that I was anything but as perfect as I could possibly pretend to be. For you, was that a survival mechanism? Did you feel that you were less than people if you weren't happy or smiling all the time? Speaker 4 (15:12) I mean, I was horribly embarrassed because like word got out and I wasn't allowed to go on this art trip I was so excited about because the school thought I was too much of a risk. And I think I wanted, A, I didn't want anyone to have to worry about. I didn't want any of my friends or adults to like think that I was a concern. I think that was like the biggest thing is like. I wanted to show that like, okay, this community of people knew about it in my school. And after that moment, I just wanted to project like. I think I don't know. I think, OK, you know what I think it partly was because I don't have that much faith in or any belief in an arc that bends toward good. And because I saw humans doing such pain, I knew how to make people feel good. I did know how to do that. I think I learned how to do that in my family. I enjoyed if I'm doing anything, I enjoyed making people feel good. Not saying the kinds of things that make spikes come out, saying the kinds of things that like ease the little scared animal person out and seeing what a difference that made with my oldest sister, who was just like horrifically bullied to the point of dropping out and just how differently she could be if you were kind to her or not. Like, it's just simple. But I really wanted to make people feel better. And so I think I just wanted to like double down. And go back to that and be providing jokes and be providing an ear. And like, I'm not a thing you need to worry about. I want to worry about you. I'm just more comfortable in that space. And I felt like that's one of the few things I know how to do that I think I can bring that's good. And so I just wanted to get back there as quick as possible and then have more people later in my life have no clue I'd ever been that low. That felt important to me for so long. It doesn't anymore. Speaker 5 (17:02) Well, I found it really, really, I don't know that ironic is the right word here, but really quite compelling that you didn't want anybody to worry about you, but you were worrying about everyone at that time. What were you worrying about? Speaker 4 (17:22) I mean, probably I was just worrying about the exact equal and opposite response in somebody else. I think I was just worrying about someone feeling alone. In their room, I mean, probably just kind of the image of my oldest sister, just like at a period in her life where she was so lonely and had basically no one who understood her. That was kind of the formative concern of just not wanting someone to feel that awful, not wanting someone to feel that alone. And I think that was like an initial. And I should say people totally worried about me. Both of my sisters worried about me. My mom worried about me. I think my dad did in his way. Like, I was being cared for. And I was so lucky in so many ways. It's just, you know, sometimes you just come out all misshapen and oversensitive, even when you have lots of resources. Yeah, Speaker 5 (18:15) I mean, it's so interesting to think about the fact that you're... worrying about other people. You don't want them to worry about you, but they're worried about you and not wanting to let you know that they're worried about you in an effort for everybody to protect each other and be cared Speaker 4 (18:33) for. Speaker 5 (18:35) At 16, you finally found a therapist. You've stated the charade finally stopped. And I'm really curious, what did she help you understand that no one else was able to up until that point? Speaker 4 (18:46) Monica Meehan McNamara. Let's shout out her full name. She was so great. She just helped me understand that. You can have a dark thought and it doesn't have to set off a red siren. I mean, that was one of the biggest things was it was like the first place after all that where I was still really tangled on the inside. I could feel her concern and her care, but I also could feel like her curiosity to get beyond, just like it was okay to have these hard thoughts. And that just felt like part of living. And she really didn't care as much about like the symptoms so much as what was going on on the inside. And she talked to me like an adult. And I think it was just like this space that could be really real and feel someone being really curious about me. At that point in your life, what did you think you wanted to do professionally? Oh, I wanted to be a novelist through and through. That was the dream. I didn't know if I could, but that was like, I wanted to just stay in my pajamas all day, get my little cup of coffee, see the world for a moment, and then disappear into that same imaginative space that we talked about, the perforated paper, dreaming up a story. And I think, again, I just wanted to minimize interactions with the real world. Because they stressed me out, they made me sad, and they drained me. And I was intimidated. And so my dream life was to, like... curl away from it all day. Speaker 5 (20:19) But Speaker 4 (20:19) you majored in history when you went to college. Speaker 5 (20:22) I Speaker 4 (20:22) did. I felt like I had a real lack of understanding of the broader world and how we got here. And I had taken a few classes in high school, but in my high school, you could drop history really early. So I did. And I had done all this art. And then I was in college. And I think I took a couple, I think maybe I took a philosophy class and it was so heady and intimidating that I was like, okay. I don't even understand all these different kinds of like criticisms of ideas. I just want to learn about some facts before I'm out of here. And so, yeah, I majored in history in a way because I felt like I should. No one told me that, but I just felt like I needed to learn more about the world. Speaker 5 (21:03) After college, you moved into a basement apartment in Queens. Sounds swanky. Speaker 4 (21:09) Very. Four of us. Speaker 5 (21:11) Oh, yeah. I lived in a railroad flat with two other people. It was challenging. You began working as a woodworker's assistant. I think at that point you also had some interest in sculpture. Speaker 4 (21:24) Yeah. So also similarly in college, I majored in history, but I took as much studio art