ABSTRACT
In this chapter I travel south, denied and ignored by modernity, through the borders of Western Eurocentric design (the unique, indeed) towards worlds where the word ‘design’ has no power over things that arise there by other means with other names. Like the sorcerer's apprentice, I conjure up arguments that later I cannot stop, decoloniality to put design in crisis as self-referential and racialised, and declassification to put it in crisis of meaning. After questioning its ‘global’ dimension, I finish by considering majority designs which, paradoxically, are not design but its others: the dessobons.
