Giving food assistance is about more than handing over a box of groceries. It’s about allowing people to make their own choices.

But the pandemic only narrowed people’s choices. Undeterred, Northern Illinois Food Bank (NIFB) put people’s needs above everything else, leading to innovations that could improve food banks everywhere. IDEO recruited neighbors to co-design a new digital tool intended to improve people’s access to food. Local residents provided more than insights—they steered design decisions and helped transform the relationship between NIFB and the community.

Northern Illinois Food Bank’s My Pantry Express app allows people to browse and order groceries online and to choose a pickup time and location that works for their schedule. We designed the app to provide useful information on dietary preferences and to be inclusive of cultural differences. The result allows choice and flexibility, helps prevent food waste, and preserves the dignity of shoppers throughout the process by making My Pantry Express feel like any other grocery site.

Ultimately, Northern Illinois Food Bank and IDEO’s strategy for success relied on new metrics. In addition to measuring effectiveness in pounds of food distributed, we found new ways to measure shoppers’ satisfaction—a solution that works better for all parties involved because it was designed by all parties involved.

An estimated 1 in 8 Americans experience food insecurity.

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The food insecurity rate is 2-3x higher for persons of color than for white households.

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60% of food insecure households do not use food pantries.

1.9M

meals distributed through My Pantry Express in 2021

50%

increase in distribution from prior year

To create Bendable, IDEO worked alongside the people closest to the problem, so every important decision grew out of their experience.

IDEO and the Drucker Institute aligned with the library system and city leaders in South Bend, Indiana, on a single objective: build a learning platform that offered education opportunities to people affected by the decline of manufacturing in the region. But even the earliest phases of research revealed that there’s no common profile that matched the diversity of learners. There are innumerable reasons why people seek to learn and as many barriers holding them back.

Knowing this, South Bend residents were the acknowledged authority for this work, and a design consultancy all their own. This radically simplified crucial decisions. Negative associations around traditional education led people to seek knowledge from those they already trusted. And they often lacked awareness about or the ability to access the many free resources already available.

The residents of South Bend helped the entire consortium see that the city wasn’t under-resourced but under-connected. That insight, and the power the community and the library system held to rectify it, made Bendable into the people-driven, connection-based learning platform it is today.

By 2025, as many as 85 million jobs will be displaced by automation, yet 97 million new ones could emerge.

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More than a third of adults pursuing postsecondary education before the COVID-19 pandemic were forced to abandon those plans.

25

programs and other resources offerings are now available to residents of South bend

4

states have begun to integrate Bendable into library systems

Protecting the right to vote means ensuring that all citizens can cast their ballots privately, independently, and easily.

With that principle in mind, Los Angeles County sought out a design strategy firm to create a next-generation, customizable system that would meet the needs of its large and diverse voter population while satisfying myriad voting regulations. The result: an accessible, self-enclosed ballot-marking device with a touchscreen that allows any voter to easily navigate, mark, verify, and submit a paper ballot. We also worked to improve the entire voting experience, including vote-by-mail ballots, interactive sample ballots, and the tally process.

As with any inclusive design, details matter. Voters with vision impairment or reading disabilities can opt for audio and tactile experiences with the push of a few simple buttons. And for voters who prefer to read the ballot in their native language—Spanish, Chinese, Korean, or any one of the 11 others supported by the county—the device lets them select their preference.

After extensive research and testing with constituents, we designed a solution that makes voting easier for anyone. And knowing that the only constant is change, we made the system flexible enough to adapt to emerging needs and technologies, protecting voters’ rights now and in the future. Read the full case study here.

26% of American adults have some type of disability. In the 2020 election, 18% of disabled voters nationally reported difficulty voting, about twice as many as non-disabled voters.

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In 2020, national voter turnout among disabled people was 7% lower than among non-disabled people in the same age group.

"Intuitive & secure"

was the sentiment most Los Angeles County voters expressed about the new voting system after the 2020 primary election

Conservation International is made up of conservation experts. To bolster its work, we bring a focus on scale, speed, and the human element to every project.

How does that look in the field? To restore the forest of Fiji, Conservation International paid a cash incentive to the community to buy, plant, and care for new trees and foliage. But once those cash incentives stopped flowing, the work ground to a halt. Taking a human-centered-design approach, one employee uncovered an insight: Fijians are more motivated to help in exchange for longer-term, noncash incentives like building infrastructure in villages. Small projects such as footpaths, repairs to communal trucks, beehives, or sports programs for youth continually reminded the community that the environment is a provider for their families, imparting a feeling of shared ownership in its conservation.

Stories like this, repeated around the globe, are how we hope to help Conservation International find sustainable outcomes. Our work together, including a six-month fellowship to help emerging leaders develop new capabilities, and a series of strategic, future-focused events for executives, has brought more tangibility and deeper collaboration to the organization.

Together we hope to create businesses, food solutions, and energy alternatives that conserve nature, and improve human health—because humans are a part of nature, too.

The scientific community overwhelmingly agrees that we have ten years to drastically cut greenhouse gas emissions or humanity will suffer devastating consequences.

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We need to conserve one third of the global ocean using area-based measures and ensure at least 75% of seafood is harvested using socially responsible, environmentally sustainable methods by 2030.

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75% of the world’s poor rely on agriculture for their livelihoods, which in turn depends on nature for pollination, irrigation, and soil replenishment.

20

leaders integrated human-centered design into annual goals, project pipelines, and fundraising efforts

20%

of the organization is now involved in design-thinking projects

When we get an auto-responder, the feeling is generally one of mild disappointment, indifference, or doom, depending on how urgent your request was.

If I took the time to compose something better, I wondered, would anyone take the time to read it? Was there a way—an opportunity, even—to shift the entire auto-responder interaction from one of scarcity (nobody’s home) to abundance (well that just made my day)?

The question became:

"How might we take one of the most automated voices we still offer to the world and make it more human?"

I started to experiment:

"I will be in a workshop this week rendering response time erratic and unpredictable. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause and invite you to celebrate this moment by testing the varied edges and new limits of patience this may evoke. Who knows where it may lead? I will be back to you as soon as possible. I promise. Thank you!"

Then got a little bolder:

"I will be impossibly slow to respond today as I am currently seated deep within the bowels of our criminal justice system doing my bit as potential juror #xxxxx for Kings County. I urge patience and self management, and that's just for myself.... I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause."

Today you will most likely receive:

"I am abroad with the most inconsistent wifi I have ever experienced. It's the substantiation of mindfulness, the invitation to a million moments paused in the belligerent now. I will pick up with you again on July 10th when I am back in New York where the data flows like a subterranean stream and the hours are neither here nor there. Thank you for your patience in the meantime."

People responded. They read them. They liked them! And the fact that they got a momentary zing out of these absurdist missives did much to relieve my guilt over dodging people's requests. I also learned a few things along the way.

3 design principles for how to write a better OOO:

1. Insert an element of surprise
   Moments of surprise in the mundane matter exponentially. I have received many many bemused responses. From close colleagues to clients to absolute strangers. It instantaneously bonds us and shifts the exchange from “I have a request or need” to “I see and hear you.” When I eventually return and execute on that request, there are new connections, filamenty kinship has grown between us through humor and surprise. From that foundation we accomplish more, usually with speed, which is ironic when you think that the communication started with a stunting. Not particularly auspicious. This creates space for possibility.
2. Do not concede to the bot!
   Bots are helpful, available, and dare I say it, adorable at times. But to compete with them we must use our all too human, weird, silly, grammatically inconsistent voices. Besides, if they are learning from us anyway we may as well give them some good material to work with.
3. Upend expectations by being yourself
   I work in leading talent for IDEO. I'm proud of that craft. But I’m also an MFA, a poet, and you may be able to tell, a bit of a weirdo. The moment I gave myself permission to be myself in all of my communications with people—even the dryest most official ones—people started responding in kind. Free yourself and the rest will follow.

We all operate in a world where we bump up against other’s expectations or assumptions of who we are on a daily basis. Those assumptions don't change on their own—that's your job! And it's as easy as writing a good OOO email! I am not HR, I’m HCH. Hello.

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The dreaded OOO. You've probably already gotten one today. The tone is usually perfunctory, most likely generated by a bot, or a bot-like impulse on behalf of the sender, who is hastily trying to sign off before that vacation, workshop, excuse to get away for five minutes of uninterrupted peace.

I found this outside of a grocery shop in Tokyo. Someone used the plastic bottle to replace the broken rain gutter. You can tell from the scratches on the plastic that the water bottle has been there a while, outlasting countless rainstorms. Who knew a water bottle could be so strong!

Human-centered design requires us to observe human behavior with beginner's eyes, so that we can spot the innate ways people interact with the world around them. We call these intuitive and unconscious reactions Thoughtless Acts, and IDEO designers collect photos of them to inspire their work.

In 2016, with only a college internship in archaeology under my belt, I stumbled on a social media post calling for volunteers to dig in Jerusalem. Before I knew it, I was winging my way to Israel with knee pads, sweat bands, and plenty of SPF 50. I spent two to three weeks of each of the following summers in Jerusalem with Dig Mount Zion, helping excavate priestly homes from the time of Jesus, Roman mosaics and frescos, and hints of bloody Crusader battles.

I returned from my latest session in a dusty Jerusalem pit in July to start my new gig as an editor at IDEO. Believe it or not, being a part-time Dirt Hound has really helped my work. How?

1. Archaeology sparks curiosity

I knew nothing about design when I started at IDEO. Likewise, before college I knew zilch about archaeology beyond what I’d seen on TV. The aggressive learning curve kicked me out of my comfort zone and forced me to ask questions of everyone, all the time. What’s a sherd, or for that matter a fill, a balk, or a locus? How did people live in the time of King David or King Herod, and how do we know?

Constantly asking questions can make you feel a bit naive, but I’ve found this sort of curiosity is a great way to learn fast, shake up stagnant systems, and radically expand my view of what’s possible.

Designers know this well. They start with questions: How might we incorporate VR into online experiences? Why are schools bound by four walls? Could play help prisoners? This inquisitive, unbiased approach is what allows them to identify fundamental needs and find creative solutions.

In the same way, I try to broach new concepts I come across, such as designing for social change, with no preconceived ideas, and keep poking and prodding until I unearth the story.

2. Hard labor can be good for you

In pop culture, archaeologists find perfectly preserved, fully excavated structures (I’m looking at you, Indy). But in reality, someone has to remove tons of dirt and rock; sweep the area with a metal detector; sketch and photograph the features of the site; wash, sort, and catalogue finds—and then begin again the next day, on the next layer of earth. Slowly, a complete picture is revealed. It’s meticulous, backbreaking work.

At the Jerusalem dig site, the physical challenges and my lack of formal training helped me understand my limits and accept guidance from the seasoned archaeologists in charge. At the same time, the digs showed me that I’m capable of withstanding heat, stress, language barriers, and lots of pickaxing. These experiences have given me confidence that I can master a new language—design—and tackle stories about IDEO’s most complex, cross-cultural projects.

3. Digs build trust & teamwork

In a given year, Dig Mount Zion includes about 15 staff, 20 students, and 60 wide-eyed volunteers. Participants range from 18 to 86 and hail from Germany, Russia, the Philippines, Canada, New Zealand, and beyond. Being tossed into a pit in 95-degree heat and told to move a mountain of dirt has bonded complete strangers into fast friends.

Working in a place so steeped in history, alongside people from all walks of life—from an Ohio school bus driver to a Messianic Jewish missionary to a particle physicist—helped me build trust and tolerance and let me glean wisdom from people with radically different points of view.

Likewise, diversity of experience and perspective on a single project is IDEO's secret sauce. Our designers have created everything from apps to amps to appliances and I'm charged with capturing those inventions in a way that's easy to understand. Archaeology has prepared me well to incorporate new modes of thinking and work with colleagues from Silicon Valley to Shanghai.

Hopefully, they won’t mind all the dirt under my fingernails.

Photos courtesy of Rachel Ward. For more, please contact rwardphotoclt@gmail.com.

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When I was eight, I defected from a high-stakes game of summer camp capture-the-flag to hunt for fossils in a nearby creekbed. Twenty years later, I still obsess about all things ancient—the first civilizations, the evolution of religious thought, and the latest dinosaur find. If this is a phase, I never grew out of it. In fact, I’ve become something of an amateur archaeologist, with surprising benefits for my work life.

Here are the top 5 things I tell my students about nourishing creativity and thinking like a designer:

Be curious

Without curiosity we do not learn and we won't grow. The same holds true for organizations. An organization that is not curious and not willing to learn will not be able to grow in today's business environment.

Challenge assumptions

In 2015, a group of students at Lund university challenged the IKEA purpose “design for many” and added a new perspective to it. What if IKEA was not the provider of solutions (the assumption) but the provider of a framework to foster people's creativity (the challenge)? The IKEA Hacka modular kitchen design is a beautiful example of how new ideas can spring from challenging assumptions.

Get lost in dreams

I don't want to accept that we have lost a whole generation to screens and devices. Creativity happens when we stop and let go. When we don’t know where to go, when we daydream and let our thoughts flow.

And research limited to what you can find online won't cut it. Insight comes from observing real people in real life. Students should have that luxury, and we should provide permission and space for that in organizations.

Get into a question-framing mindset

Design students often start their creative process by translating insights into problem statements. But you can't identify a problem without asking a bigger question first. So how do we get there? When we find the right opportunity space for a team to tackle, creativity flows.

Collaborate

I believe that all of us are better together. We've reached a time when collaboration is not just about individual work patterns, but also about what happens across systems, organizations, and governments.

Unfortunately, too many leaders seem to fall back on trying to solve things themselves, then ask those around them to do their bidding—often with rather unfortunate results.

But today's students—the next generation of leaders—have grown up in a sharing economy where not just goods, but also values are exchanged. And that keeps me optimistic about the future.

Taking this approach, my students and I have produced hundreds of design concepts, many of which have been published and exhibited. Spectrum, a project I co-led with designer Stefan Diez, was recently shown at the Salone di Mobili in Milan. And a workshop at the University of Lund produced the IKEA concept kitchen. As the school year approaches, I look forward to watching young designers come up with more bright ideas.

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For more than 10 years, I've taught design in places like the University of Lund in Sweden, the HfG Offenbach in Germany, and Parsons School of Design. Teaching inspires me, challenges me, helps me question my point of view on design, and keeps me connected to the next generation. My students often start out with a problem-solver mindset and want to rely on technology. I encourage them, instead, to start with a question, large or small, that puts humans at the center.

I help organizations cut through complexity by shaping how they show up, through brand strategy, identity, and storytelling.

Working at the intersection of brand and business, I bring an editorial eye and a bias toward making—turning ideas into tangible experiences that people can understand, trust, and believe in.

My work spans government, healthcare, financial services, media, and consumer goods, from launching Gen Z-focused ventures to building innovation labs and reimagining legacy brands. I relish moments of ambiguity and enjoy translating across teams, perspectives, and priorities to move ideas forward.

I started my career in editorial and digital design, shaping cross-platform experiences and identity systems in publishing and agency environments. That foundation still shapes how I work today: I’m detail-oriented, collaborative, and overreliant on the Oxford comma. I hold a BFA in Visual Communication from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.

For 25 years, I've asked the same question: Who does this design exclude—and what are we going to do about it?

My work spans human-centered strategy, inclusive design, and qualitative research, with clients ranging from Microsoft, Google, and Verizon to the National Science Foundation, and San Francisco Unified School District.

Before IDEO, I taught elementary school in East Palo Alto and spent a decade doing design work with social service organizations—where I learned firsthand what it costs people when systems are built without them in mind.

I am currently writing User Error, a nonfiction book about digital access and the design decisions behind it. I live in Oakland, California.

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My expertise spans brand, communication, and product design across tech, education, the arts, and social impact.

I believe great work demands both high-level vision and obsessive attention to detail, and only happens through collaboration.

I bring an inclusive, hands-on approach and a deep understanding of business, which enables me to consistently deliver excellence while always asking why.

Before joining IDEO, I worked at the brand firms Pentagram and VSA Partners. I began my career as a designer, leading teams at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago and the Milwaukee Art Museum. I hold an MFA in graphic design from Maryland Institute College of Art and a BFA in communication design from the Milwaukee Institute of Art & Design, and have taught at some of the best design schools in the US.

I am responsible for IDEO’s long-term success in China and working with clients to use design as a tool to enable growth. Specifically, I have helped Chinese companies design holistic brand solutions through the development of their products, communication, services, and innovation teams, and I have helped multinationals expand their presence and influence in China.

I advise global leaders on developing China-led innovation and capabilities.

In over 15 years in IDEO Shanghai, I have worked on projects that use design to elevate the quality of the experience of healthcare products and services, streamline processes that increase productivity, create spaces and programs that promote and enable inclusive communities, and build next generation mobility solutions that are planet-positive.

Before joining IDEO, I worked at Philips Electronics and the Electrolux Group in Italy, the Netherlands, and Singapore on a number of breakthrough commercial products. I am a member of the Young President Organization in Shanghai.

Most AI products today are built for work—a space with clear problems and established systems. One founder noticed a gap: personal life is messier, harder to systematize, and mostly left behind by the AI boom. So she built Cue, a personal AI that lives inside iMessage and group chats, to go where the other tools haven't.

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In this episode, Becca Carroll, IDEO's Chief Strategy Officer, talks with Sida Li, co-founder and CEO of Shared Context Lab, about staying anchored to a human need while the technology around her keeps changing shape, why she treats her business model with the same rigor she'd bring to a product, and what it feels like to build a company at this particular, disorienting moment in AI.

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The conversation also gets into how Sida makes design decisions: the language Cue uses to describe itself, the tradeoffs behind building inside iMessage instead of a new app, and a real story about a business idea that didn’t pan out.

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This is the second in a two-part series profiling founders from IDEO's Startups-in-Residence program. The first conversation is with Johannes Seemann, founder of Sooner, on designing GenAI for the emotional side of money.

Most personal financial tools are built to run the numbers and optimize towards a budget. While that works for some, most people experience money as a lived relationship that does not neatly fit into a spreadsheet. Johannes Seemann and Becca Carroll discuss why money is emotional before it is mathematical, and what a human-centered approach to building a generative AI financial product looks like in practice.

Mina Seetharaman talks with Scott Shigeoka, author of Seek and Head of Curiosity Cultivation at the Eames Institute, about what distinguishes genuinely curious leadership from performative curiosity, how power dynamics shape curiosity, and why practicing curiosity can restore energy rather than drain it.

Mina Seetharaman talks with David Epstein, author of Inside the Box and Range, about why total freedom often produces average work, how leaders can design useful limits on purpose, and what organizations such as General Magic and Pixar reveal about the relationship between boundaries and creativity.