As a small, young nation, Singapore has come a long way in a short time. Its cost-conscious education system enables social mobility, its public healthcare system is a model of success, and it has achieved financial independence. What’s more, 80 percent of its citizens reside in Singapore’s desirable and attainable public housing complexes.

But even with these successes, Singapore wanted to improve upon its existing systems. In 2008, government agencies came to IDEO to help connect the intention behind their policies with how their services were delivered to the public. To bridge the gap, IDEO Singapore partnered with five government agencies on more than 12 projects.

A few highlights:

Singapore’s Ministry of Health
The Ministry subsidizes up to 80 percent of healthcare costs. Understanding their financial options may, at times, be difficult for patients, especially in situations where they’re grappling with stressful medical conditions. Although the government has reassured Singaporeans that no one will be denied medical treatment even if they can’t pay, public sentiment that healthcare in Singapore is increasingly unaffordable still pervades.

So the Ministry worked with IDEO to give patients financial peace of mind at a time when their well-being is of utmost importance, and to improve their healthcare experience overall. Inspired by doctors’ ability to talk about patients’ diagnoses across a range of potential outcomes, IDEO designed a more patient-centric care cost discussion guide, and developed a new digital tool designed to help patients better understand and predict healthcare costs. The care cost discussion guide is currently being prototyped in two hospitals.

IDEO’s work with the Ministry of Health (MOH) extends to the communication strategy for a newly introduced government-sponsored insurance policy, MediShield Life. MOH recognized that government communications needed to incorporate important nuances to engage citizens around the new policies and benefits. Together with MOH, IDEO developed ideas for a citizen engagement strategy that brought to life a journey that includes how Singaporeans learn about a policy, sign up, and understand benefits and subsidies.

The Ministry of Manpower
One of the Ministry’s roles is to process work passes for foreigners, who make up 30 percent of the nation’s workforce. The Ministry was known for its speed and efficiency, but not its customer service. IDEO partnered with the Ministry’s Work Pass Division to design all of the touchpoints around acquiring a new work pass—from the letters applicants receive to the website, physical space, and the interactions that occur there.

In addition, IDEO embarked on a series of projects with the Ministry of Manpower (MOM) aimed at streamlining and simplifying its communications. Together, they addressed the question, “How do we create communications that are easily understood and better engage MOM’s customers?” Starting with the most common letters sent out by MOM’s Work Pass Division, they defined a more customer-oriented tone of voice and visual style. To scale up the new approach, IDEO trained many MOM officers to write with the customer’s perspective in mind.

The National Population and Talent Division
The agency asked IDEO to better understand the underlying reasons for Singapore’s all-time-low birthrate and design ways to encourage Singaporeans to have more children.

The Ministry of National Development
More than 80 percent of Singapore’s citizens live in public housing. The Ministry asked IDEO to bring to life Singaporeans’ notion of home and identify ways to keep their aspirations at the center of their work.

Building creative confidence across Singapore’s public sector will be an ongoing journey, but the country is actively building the tools it needs to maintain its citizen-centered approach in an increasingly complex world.

After losing both legs below the knee and half of one arm in an accident, Dr. BJ Miller knows what it feels like to be near death. But after recovering, Miller became a doctor, joined the faculty of UCSF, and is now leading a conversation about patient-centered care and redesigning the experience of how we die. But such systemic change will require pioneering thinking, as our healthcare system, designed to cure, not caretake for the long term, prepares for an exploding elderly and chronically ill population.

Together with IDEO, Dr. Miller and Zen Hospice Project are bringing design to a broken system in hopes of helping people live fully right up until the end. Miller was invited to TED in March, 2015 to deliver the closing talk. In concert, IDEO designed a landing page and call to action to support Zen Hospice Project’s mission, flagging the campaign with the hashtag #designabetterending.

Early renderings for a new palliative care facility that would enliven end-of-life care with rich, engaging experiences are also in the works. Read more about the collaboration in California Sunday Magazine and join the movement to help us design a better ending.

Stephanie is a college student. She runs a successful beauty blog and shares new finds with her 20,000 followers. Jennifer is married and lives in Chicago. She considers fashion to be an expression of her identity. How do we know all of this about Stephanie and Jennifer? They’re both eBay shoppers the IDEO team met while designing a better way for the retail giant to get to know their customers.

It’s easy to forget that behind data cells exist flesh-and-blood people. eBay has 128 million buyers and sellers, and wanted to find meaningful stories about real people in order to uncover their wants, needs, and behaviors.

The company partnered with IDEO to create a digital ecosystem that integrates Big Data, business opportunities, and customer stories drawn from IDEO interviews to give employees deeper insight into how and why people use the site.

The app, which launched in September 2012, is available on desktop and mobile devices to eBay employees worldwide. It’s an easily accessible resource for eBay employees where they can glean insights about their customers by learning about key customer types. The app brings customer needs to life using words, images, and video interviews from select research participants. The power of that experience prompted eBay to overhaul its website, too, giving it a fresh, human-centered appeal.

Many younger customers described venerable fashion retailer Belk as “their grandmother’s store.” Belk, with 300 stores in 16 Southern states, was looking for ways to stay competitive and woo these style-savvy millennials. The goal was to create a trendy, social, affordable, and distinctly Southern shopping experience.

Belk’s innovation team and IDEO conducted research with twenty-somethings to develop the look, feel, merchandising strategy, and service experience of a new offshoot brand. Fresh and modern, Belk’s new pop-up store Belle & Ty features contemporary fashion along with a real-time Instagram wall, a style lounge, personal stylists, and weekly trunk shows. The pop-up store also serves as a learning lab for Belk, a place to prototype offerings for a new generation. Local fashion bloggers called the store “a must-stop shop during Christmas,” and Sue Curley, VP of Innovation at Belk, said, “Belle & Ty has been a great learning lab for us to connect with an important customer segment, test new ideas, learn, adjust, and test again.”

First came the jolt of panic, followed by furious digging through my bag, and slapping my pockets, the whole time chanting, “Please say I didn’t forget my phone!” There I was, standing just past the airport security checkpoint on my way to catch my connecting flight home from Japan, totally empty-handed. Bye, phone.

Once I stopped hyperventilating, I had a few hours strapped to an airplane seat to consider the following: What would it feel like to live without a smartphone?

Since I was already stuck without one, I decided to turn my predicament into a personal experiment: one month, no smart devices of any kind. Here’s what those 30 days taught me—and how the experiment made me rethink the way I approach design.

Less might be more

My first observation was that I was suddenly fully engaged with everything—my surroundings, the people around me, even that TV show that I thought I liked, but really just glanced at between text messages. I was pleased to find that conversations suddenly became much more meaningful. When I had my phone in hand, I was always subconsciously waiting for a buzz, and partially disengaged from the people in front of me. And when the buzz happened, I stopped listening to them completely. Without the added distraction, interactions became much more fulfilling.

As an interaction designer, I spend a lot of time creating user-friendly interfaces, but this experience made me wonder exactly how accessible things should be. Now I ask myself, are there elements that are competing with instead of enhancing an experience? Would a user benefit from something just a little less sticky?

Lose the escape hatch

Some of you may remember a time when you couldn’t just text your friend to say that you’re running late or *cough*cough* aren’t feeling well and can’t make it. We’re all guilty of it. The beauty of not having a phone was that it forced me and my flaky friends and family to pre-plan and be on time*. By removing the option to be late or back out, there’s much less to think about besides showing up and enjoying each other’s company.

When we’re designing technology, do we always need a back or undo button? How does that affect outcome and behavior, and can we use it to our advantage? For instance, with questionnaires, how do answers vary if there’s no way to change them?

*side note: Do look up where you are going ahead of time, because no phone = no maps.

It really, truly can wait

At the beginning of the experiment, I had a few phantom limb moments where I went to grab my phone to check tomorrow’s weather, or look up the definition of apocryphal, or text that random gif to a friend. In most situations, my first instinct was to whip out my phone. Not having access to everything forced me to slow my pace, and made my world feel a whole lot smaller, and, in some ways, less overwhelming.

In an era where you can shop for a pair of pants online and have it delivered to you within the hour, are there moments that can be enhanced by building in pause? What can a little friendly friction do to help slow things down to enhance and experience?

Automation isn't always rewarding

There’s no question that the smartphone affords us many conveniences—I’ve undoubtedly plundered every mobile subscription, delivery, and transaction possible. But streamlining every aspect of my life left me longing for those small moments of accomplishment that I used to get from figuring it out on my own. For instance, without access to ridesharing services, I found myself walking or taking public transit everywhere. Great for my lungs, the environment, and my wallet. The same goes for social sharing: Much of the reason we share online, is for the reactions we get in return. And by moving from an asynchronous share to a synchronous share, you’re rewarded by actually seeing someone laugh instead of an emoji reply posted 34 minutes later. Mic drop.

Just because we can automate, doesn’t always mean we should. The unpredictability of human behaviors is what makes the mundane more interesting, after all. How can we integrate these real life moments into the designs we create?

Since the big experiment, I’ve rejoined the flock and am now wielding a shiny, new phone with a notch in it. But I haven’t forgotten the lessons I learned—or how important it is for designers to get out of their comfort zone. And next time I need a little inspiration, I may just leave it at home.

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As an interaction designer, I have a love-hate relationship with my phone. On one hand, my job requires instant access to apps, prototypes, Slack... the list goes on. On the other, tech addiction is real. Even if I might try to ignore the invisible handcuffs that tie me to my phone, I was always reaching for it.

Until, of course, I lost it.

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Moving trucks aren’t always built for convenience. After all, they’re meant for hauling cargo, not a luxurious drive. But they are chock full of packing tape. When I hopped in the front of our mover’s truck to pick up some furniture at the storage unit, I smiled to see this ingenious workaround. A cup holder for your soda pop using a roll of packing tape, secured with—what else—packing tape.

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.

The idea came to me on a Saturday in June, before I had told anyone I was pregnant. I was flopped out on a sandy couch with my niece and nephew after a day at the beach, their level of post-sun exhaustion matching my first trimester fatigue. Their mom, my sister-in-law, recognized an opportunity to steal away for a shower, and put on an early 80s episode of Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood. Both of these kids have been raised mostly screen-free, and their mom was just starting to let them watch what she called “slow TV”: mostly nature documentaries, the occasional Aquanauts episode, and of course, Mr. Rogers.

This particular episode began with Fred Rogers trying to fix a leaky faucet with a new rubber washer. But he didn’t have the right size washer, so he goes to visit a local handyman. Rogers asks some questions about a shovel the handyman is fixing, and then is shown a wide selection of washers, and takes his time picking out one of the correct size. This takes place over the course of roughly 10 minutes, in real time. It’s a prime example of “slow.”

My niece and nephew were transfixed, mouths open. Seeing Mr. Rogers select a piece of kitchen hardware appeared to be the most incredible thing they had ever witnessed.

I want the same thing for my son.

I’m a software designer with a background in web development and computer science. I grew up loving computers and the internet. We had an Apple IIE for as long as I can remember, and my engineer dad taught me BASIC as soon as I could read. My first introduction to the internet was when our family got a CompuServe subscription in 1994. I couldn’t do a whole lot on it, but I’d jump into chat rooms and talk about the X-Files and Monty Python. Technology was always a part of my life.

But when I look back on all this, I realize how lucky it was that I got to grow up in this particular moment of technological disruption. I wasn’t plopped into a world governed by technology—the internet’s control over the world grew right along with my own.

Now, though, I keep reading articles about the ways the internet is changing our brains. Social networking is making us more isolated and risk-averse. The current generation of teens growing up, digital natives all, are the safest and the most depressed yet. And I worry about what it will mean for my child, born into a world moving at the speed of Twitter. This anxiety has become more real and intense every week of the 39 I’ve been pregnant. I assume it will let up sometime in the next three or four decades.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about calm technology—a term coined by Mark Weiser and John Seely Brown of Xerox PARC in a 1995 white paper, researched further and developed into a book by Amber Case. Here are the Cliffs Notes: Calm technology should require the smallest amount of attention possible from the user; it stays at the periphery rather than being center stage; and it should “amplify the best of technology and the best of humanity.” It’s that last one that stuck with me.

I don’t have to be a luddite to protect my child—I can use my skills as a technologist, including basic hardware hacking, to moderate the world I want my child to live in. By creating this TV, I can give him the calm environment I was lucky to grow up in. While he’s small, his TV will be a 30-pound, wood-paneled monster that I found the on the street, with a dial and 12 channels he can flip between—no more, no less—all programmed by me. So far, none of the content goes above a PG-rating, and one channel is all Mr. Rogers, pleasantly chatting with his handyman neighbor, carefully choosing just the right washer.

Eventually, my son will know about Netflix and binge-watching. He will know about YouTube and those bizarre AI-generated children’s shows. He will know about games that have been designed by the best minds of our generation to be more addictive than the cigarettes I hope he’ll avoid when he’s older. He will know about so much more that I can’t begin to predict. But for a while, he’ll be blissfully unaware, able to grow and think and develop at a child’s pace.

I am making a TV for my future son. It’s nearly finished, though I’m still working out a few kinks in the scheduling API, and I need to solder the hardware channel switcher. It’s a side project that’s been simmering for several months now that I plan to release soon—not unlike my baby.

The Design on Aging booklets give entrepreneurs and organizations tools for designing human-centered products and services for older adults. The two publications, Connected Living and Independent Living, explore how design can help older adults stay socially connected and physically mobile as they age. Presented alongside 4 distinct profiles representing the behaviors and mindsets of people over 50 years old at high risk of isolation, the booklets provide practical frameworks and design exercises to help organizations generate impactful solutions.

IDEO developed the Design on Aging booklets with Project Catalyst—a pioneering research collaboration between AARP, UnitedHealthcare, Pfizer, and MedStar Health.

Download the books on Independent Living and Connected Living.

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.