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Systems

Building Design Systems for 1.4 Billion People

Lessons from architecting the design language at Digital India Corporation, where a single misaligned button could affect millions of transactions.

Mayank Shukla Jan 2026 15 min read

When I tell people I work on design systems, they usually picture a tidy Figma library with color tokens, button variants, and some spacing guidelines. And yes, those are part of it. But when your design system serves a country of 1.4 billion people, across 36 states and union territories, in 22 official languages, on devices ranging from flagship smartphones to Rs. 3,000 handsets with cracked screens, the stakes are in a completely different league.

A confusing label can lock thousands out of essential government services. A button that does not look tappable can cascade into millions of failed transactions. A font that does not render properly in Devanagari can make an entire form unreadable for half your users.

At Digital India Corporation, I have been working on building a unified design language across multiple government platforms within the Poshan Tracker ecosystem. Each platform has different technical stacks, different user demographics, and wildly different accessibility requirements. Here is what I have learned, and what I wish someone had told me before I started.

The first lesson: humility

Before Digital India, I had designed for urban, tech-savvy users. The kind of people who intuitively understand hamburger menus, know that swiping left deletes something, and can navigate a multi-step form without guidance.

The users of government platforms are fundamentally different. Many are first-time smartphone owners in tier-3 towns. Some are senior citizens accessing digital services for the first time in their lives. Others are frontline health workers using a government app on a shared device with limited connectivity and a 4-inch screen.

Designing for this audience required me to unlearn almost everything I considered "best practice." Here are some examples:

  • Minimalism is not always helpful. When your user needs explicit, step-by-step guidance, a clean, minimal interface can feel empty and confusing. They wonder if something is broken because the screen "looks too simple."
  • Hamburger menus are not intuitive. I watched users in field research tap every visible element on screen before discovering the hamburger menu. For many, it simply does not register as something interactive.
  • Auto-advancing carousels cause panic. Users were still reading the first slide when it disappeared. They thought they missed something important and could not get it back.
  • Icons without labels are meaningless. A gear icon for settings, a bell for notifications, a person for profile. These are conventions built by Silicon Valley. They do not transfer to someone who has been using a smartphone for three months.
  • Progress indicators need to be much more explicit. Not just dots or a thin progress bar, but clear text: "Step 2 of 5. You're almost halfway done."

This humility, the willingness to set aside your assumptions about what "good design" looks like, is the single most important skill for anyone designing at this scale.

Three principles that held up under pressure

After extensive field research, usability testing, and more failed iterations than I care to count, we settled on three principles that guided every design decision across platforms:

1. Clarity over cleverness

If a user has to guess what something does, we failed. Every button label is explicit. Every form field has a visible label (no placeholder-only patterns). Every action clearly states what will happen when you tap it. We chose "Submit your details" over "Submit." We chose "Go back to the previous page" over a left arrow icon.

2. Redundancy over minimalism

Say the important thing twice. Show it in two places. If a deadline is critical, put it in the hero area and in a banner and in the relevant form section. Our users are not annoyed by repetition. They are reassured by it. The worst thing that can happen is a user missing a piece of critical information because we were too elegant to repeat ourselves.

3. Forgiveness over prevention

You cannot prevent every wrong tap. You cannot anticipate every misunderstanding. But you can make every action reversible. Every error recoverable. Every state navigable. We invested heavily in undo flows, confirmation screens, and clear error recovery paths. When a user makes a mistake, the system should respond with help, not with a dead end.

A design system is a governance framework

This is the part that surprises people. At national scale, a design system is not primarily a design artifact. It is a governance framework. It is organizational infrastructure.

Our system needs to work across dozens of engineering teams, each led by different people, using different frameworks, with different priorities and timelines. Getting them to adopt a shared component library is not a design problem. It is a change management problem.

Here is what actually made adoption work:

  • Documentation that speaks to engineers, not designers. Our component docs include implementation guides, API references, and code snippets in the frameworks teams actually use. A beautifully designed spec page that engineers cannot use is worthless.
  • Regular training sessions, not just launch announcements. We run quarterly workshops where teams can ask questions, report issues, and request new components. This builds ownership across teams.
  • An audit process with teeth. We run periodic accessibility audits (WCAG compliance) and visual consistency checks. Teams that drift from the system get flagged and supported, not punished.
  • An feedback loop that is genuinely responsive. When a team reports that a component does not work for their use case, we have a process to evaluate, adapt, or create a variant within two weeks. If teams feel the system is rigid and slow, they will route around it.

What I took away

Building for India, at this scale and for this audience, taught me something that I carry into every project now: design, at its best, is about access. It is about making sure the most vulnerable people in society can use digital services without feeling stupid, without getting lost, and without giving up.

That is a higher bar than "make it look clean" or "follow the trends." And honestly? It is the work I am most proud of.

If you are a designer who has only ever built for tech-savvy urban users, I would encourage you to find a project that serves the opposite end of the spectrum. It will break your assumptions in the best possible way. And it will make you a significantly better designer.

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