7 principles of a design system

Seven principles that make design systems reliable — clear, flexible, and able to evolve with the product.

A good design system isn’t defined by how many components it has, but by strong principles. These principles shape how the system grows, how decisions are made, and how easy it is to maintain.

They work at every level — from token structure and grid to a single component. If they hold, the system remains clear, flexible, and predictable even as the product grows, the team changes, and new tasks appear.

Can you add something new without breaking what exists?

A good system doesn’t crack when it needs to expand. Adding new parts should feel natural, not a reason to reconsider the whole structure.

Extendability isn’t about quantity — it’s about construction. If the principles are right, you can add a new text size, a new color tone, or a component variation without risking existing relationships. When the architecture is sound, growth is organic, not chaotic.

Example: you decide to add another blue tone or a new heading type. In a well-designed system, that’s a minute of work — one new value in an existing scale. In a weak system, it means changing dozens of styles and rebuilding the design.

How easily does the system accept change?

A system should change without pain. Real flexibility isn’t “anything goes”; it’s the ability to adapt without damaging the foundation.

Modifiability is a sign of architectural maturity. If you can swap the base font, adjust the type scale, or update tokens without a cascade of side effects, the system is truly alive. Change should be part of normal life, not an emergency.

Example: you increase the base font size or tweak spacing density. If the interface still looks tidy and balanced afterward, the system is built well. If you’re fixing dozens of screens by hand, there’s no real flexibility — even if the structure looks thoughtful.

Do people understand how the system works?

A system should be understandable at first glance — not only to those who built it, but to anyone who joins later.

Clarity isn’t long documentation; it’s predictability. When the structure, token names, and component logic are obvious, the team moves faster and makes fewer mistakes. Answers appear where you expect them to.

Example: a designer opens the system and finds the heading style without guidance. A developer instantly sees which token controls link color. No questions, no delays — that’s clarity.

Does everything follow the same logic?

A system should speak one language. If its principles are unified, new decisions look and behave predictably.

Consistency isn’t sameness; it’s logic. When tokens follow one naming scheme and component states (hover, focus, disabled) share the same patterns, the team spends less time guessing and fixing. Trust grows, adoption speeds up, and the system becomes a dependable tool.

Example: if every interactive element uses the same state patterns and behaviors, even a new control feels familiar. Users sense coherence, and the team feels confident.

Do parts work as a whole?

Systematic means each part is built on a principle, not on chance. Every scale, component, and pattern should be constructed with rules — relationships, proportions, and logic — so you can create new elements without rebuilding the base.

This applies to everything from tokens to UI patterns. If button padding is defined in proportion to label size, you can create buttons at any size. If the heading ramp is based on a modular scale, new levels fit without breaking the structure.

Systematic design makes outcomes predictable and growth manageable. It turns a set of decisions into an architecture with internal logic.

Example: you need an additional shadow level. If the system already defines how blur and offset progress, you simply continue the sequence. The answer is built in.

Is there anything unnecessary?

A system should be light — no excess, no duplicates. Every element — token, component, state — should exist for a reason. Anything without purpose adds friction and reduces clarity.

Brevity isn’t restriction; it’s focus on what matters. A system shouldn’t sprawl with “just in case” decisions. When things are created with intent, interfaces get cleaner and the structure gets stronger.

Example: you have five card styles that differ only by corner radius and shadow strength. Pause and ask: are these truly different solutions? Often one coherent scheme can express the same variety more clearly and simply.

Does the system work across contexts?

A strong system lives in many environments. It should work across screen sizes, content volumes, platforms, and interface conditions.

Adaptability is more than responsive layouts. It’s the ability of components to keep their form and meaning as the environment changes. Type scales proportionally, spacing adjusts to density, and elements don’t break when text varies.

Example: a product card should look right in a grid, a list, and a narrow sidebar. If you don’t need three separate components to achieve that, the system is truly adaptable.