Midea, one of China’s largest appliance manufacturers, wanted to identify growth opportunities in the domestic consumer market, while focusing on people’s cultural beliefs around health and well-being. During the course of the project, IDEO found that Midea could play a key role in building a healthier nation.

The team set out to design potential future products for Tong (“through, whole, and to understand”) that are built around the basic themes of eating, breathing, and being: an easy-to-use, hassle-free herbal tea dispenser, an air balancer that improves and balances the quality of air in the home, and a body-balancing mobile phone app that encourages users to rebalance their body condition where needed, through movements created with the Chinese philosophies of well-being in mind.

The Tong project was featured extensively in the press, and opened further conversations with Midea about creating new value and extending into new markets.

Put food on the table or keep the furnace running on a frigid day? It’s an unfortunate choice many low-income families in Flint, Michigan, face.

To help customers in Flint and other Michigan towns stay on top of their utility bills and better understand the relationship between their energy consumption and the resulting costs, Consumers Energy partnered with IDEO and utility assistance provider The Heat and Warmth Fund (THAW) to create an innovative pilot billing program called Clear Control in late 2013.

The pilot was designed with three major human-centered changes to the traditional utility experience:

• Instead of monthly bills, participants received two bills per month. Shorter billing periods allowed for smaller, more frequent payments, helping customers match available funds with their ability to pay.
• Daily text updates on energy usage and bill amounts kept consumption top of mind.
• Consumers Energy offered personalized, in-home audits to help customers make low-cost, high-impact changes to their energy bills.

A year later, the results of the pilot are energizing. Clear Control participants accumulated no new debt, while the control group owed $300; pilot customers used 20 percent less electricity, reducing their bills by $200 per year; and 95 percent of participants paid their bills in full and on time, compared with 35 percent in the control group. The utility company simultaneously benefited by avoiding arrearages, late-payment fees, and shutoffs. Consumers plans to incorporate Clear Control lessons into its overall energy assistance program design and development moving forward.

"It’s no longer ‘me’ against ‘them’—now it’s ‘us,’" said one Clear Control participant.

In 1980, Apple asked IDEO to develop a mouse for their radical new computer, the Lisa. Previous attempts at mouse design, by Douglas Englebart and Xerox PARC, yielded results that were too expensive and hard to make. The Apple mouse needed to be more reliable and less than 10 percent of the cost of the earlier versions.

To start, the design team created a cheaper, much-improved mechanism that would operate the mouse, and found that a complex, plastic "ribcage" would hold the pieces together. The team similarly tested and refined the mouse’s other key components, from the audible and tactile click of the button to the rubberized coating on the ball. A record turntable spun for days, logging “mouse miles” to check the reliability of the electromechanical assembly.

The resulting mouse proved mechanically and economically sound and was changed only slightly when adapted for use with the first Macintosh computer. The basic mechanism design is used in virtually all mechanical mouses produced to date.

Food is the heart of most cultures. In China, one of the oldest cultures in the world, food is central to family gatherings and celebrations. It’s what binds people, a tangible way of showing love and respect. But in recent years, the Chinese food industry has suffered from concerns around safety.

Two siblings, Harn and Anmao Sun, set out on an ambitious venture: to create a trusted source of food in China and, by setting an example, to instigate a movement around conscious farming practices. The American-born entrepreneurs launched Hunter Gatherer, a restaurant and retail food space built around a transparent supply chain, from farm to table to grocery shelves. The venture is based on growing and serving what they call real food: The ingredients are chemical-free and come from known and trusted sources—food they’d eat themselves. The purpose of the venture is simple: to serve people real food that is their right.

Having studied and worked in the US, Harn and Anmao grew accustomed to browsing farmers markets on Saturday mornings or picking up a burrito at Chipotle. But when they returned to China, they were unsure about the safety of the food they were eating.

“In China, you wouldn’t go to a food stand, because you’d be concerned about the ingredients,” Anmao said. “You can’t take the safety for granted.”

Hunter Gatherer’s very existence challenges bedrock assumptions about how food is produced in China. A long and depressing list of scandals—milk contaminated with melamine, pork produced from diseased pigs, used cooking oil repackaged and sold as new—has rocked the public trust.

“In China, agriculture is going through a huge change,” Anmao said. “In the US, agriculture operations are regulated. Farmers’ practices are regulated. If they use pesticides, there are limits because these farmers understand that once a certain threshold is hit, additional pesticides will not yield more crops. But in China, pesticide use came about 30 years after the US and Europe, and because of a lack of full understanding, farmers in China incorrectly operate under the assumption that more pesticides means more crop yields. Also, with over 250 million farmers in China, it becomes immensely difficult to properly regulate everyone.”

New Ventures

Harn and Anmao wanted to restore trust in the simple act of eating in China, and they came to IDEO to build a scalable business based on that vision. This was essentially a startup, a shared commitment between IDEO and Hunter Gatherer.

“I’ve lived in Shanghai for the past seven years, and as a relatively active and health-conscious person, I’ve had to invest quite a bit of time in finding food that I trust,” said Charles Hayes, managing director of IDEO Shanghai. “That investment has been both in the time it takes to research the sources of ingredients but also a literal investment in paying a high price for imported food just for that extra peace of mind.”

Anmao and Harn took up residence in the IDEO Shanghai offices to incubate their business. Together with IDEO designers, they tested packaging, cooked countless meals, and found ways to introduce unfamiliar ingredients to Chinese consumers. They discussed different concepts of lunch and dinner, and how notions of freshness in Chinese culture might affect cold-storage systems. In IDEO’s prototyping kitchen, the teams tested all manner of different foods, flavors, colors, mixes, and price points, and they brought consumers in to try them out. IDEO designers, along with the founding team, also worked on the brand and positioning of what would eventually become the Hunter Gatherer enterprise—its location, human resources, and marketing strategies.

As the restaurant concept came together, finding the right food sources had to be addressed. Traditional agriculture couldn’t be trusted; organic certifications were available on the black market, and safety protocols around chemical use were nonexistent. Anmao and Harn decided to invest in their own farms. They met with farmers, asked questions about their methods, and walked in the fields to see for themselves. Eventually they settled on two plots of land outside Shanghai and began developing more than 80 different crops to be used in the restaurant.

From Seed to Table

When it came time to find the right space for the first location, Anmao and Harn discovered an open, airy storefront on Anfu Road in Shanghai’s tree-lined former French Concession area. They designed and built a retail space and kitchen, and along with IDEO designers, they trained the staff and organized workflows. The staff set the tables with Mason jars filled with flowers, hung photographs of the farmers who grew the food, and put up a sign that showcases the percentage of vegetables coming directly from the Hunter Gatherer farms, already more than 70 percent in less than a year after opening.

Customers can shop for fresh vegetables, locally sourced and imported canned and jarred goods, bins of cereal, freshly made smoothies, artisan sauces, and exotic chocolates. Upstairs, they can feast on delicious dishes in the homey restaurant.

Reviews have been glowing. One customer raved about the machine that grinds fresh nuts. Another loved the open space, the “good vibes,” and the refreshing cucumber water. Young people go there on dates, and families return for the delicious menu variety.

The convivial space has blossomed into more than just a restaurant and grocery store. It’s become a gathering place of sorts, both for the community and for partners who share the same vision. Farmers and food purveyors are invited to showcase their products at seasonal events and to mingle with customers and share recipes and stories.

“Hunter Gatherer has come to symbolize a kind of lifestyle the Chinese people have been looking for,” said Eugene Lin, an IDEO business designer. “A place they can enjoy hanging out with friends, as well as a movement and mission they can stand behind.”

A Digital Future

This is just the beginning of the venture. The plan is to open 40 more locations throughout China. But the vision for Hunter Gatherer’s growth is bigger than brick-and-mortar restaurants—where the business will truly scale is in the digital space. Eventually, the plan is to launch a Hunter Gatherer online grocery store from which anyone can buy food grown from trusted sources.

“We have to create trust with the consumer. It’s the most difficult and most valuable thing to do in China, especially with food,” Anmao said. “Our brick-and-mortar locations will establish that increased trust. Then we can go online and grow the idea to the rest of the country.”

Will Hunter Gatherer have a hand in changing the way that the world’s most populous nation thinks about food? Its principles are already spreading, from neighboring farmers adopting more sustainable planting methods, to a growing market for products like wine.

But the true sign of success will be almost invisible—the moment when an increase in demand will result in safe food for everyone and when real food becomes commonplace.

1. Pass the Baton: where stories are currency

At secondhand store Pass the Baton, recycled goods are nestled in carefully curated rows. But what's really for purchase are stories—one for every item. Pick something up and turn the price tag around. You’ll find a photo of the previous owner, along with a short anecdote about the experience of owning the item. Even in just a few sentences, these stories give me an instant connection to the product on-hand, making it more valuable than if it were displayed as a new item in an on-trend collection.

My experience at Pass the Baton reminded me that the currency of stories can be more valuable than the currency of yen. Reading the stories, I was surrounded by not just the things for sale, but the people who once owned them: their relationships, their hopes, their memories. It was a powerful experience and a good reminder to look beyond face value in evaluating the worth of things.

2. Ichiran Ramen: where senses are heightened

Where do you find the best ramen in Tokyo? For me, there’s one standout in the best-designed ramen-experience category: Ichiran. Out of the thousands of noodle shops in Japan, this one has choreographed the perfect environment to fully savor the flavors, tastes, and textures of ramen.

Ichiran is not a social affair: Each booth is designed for one person, and it’s filled with everything needed to savor the experience solo, including an individual water dispenser, chopsticks, and cups. Diners are served when a pair of hands emerge with the perfect bowl of ramen. The curtain closes, and then it’s just you, the bowl, and full-on sensory pleasure.

Ichiran is about the ramen and the ramen only. And what a bowl of ramen it is.

3. Ranking Ranqueen: Where the crowd decides

Here's the concept: Assemble the most popular or top-selling products in each category—peach-flavored candy, facial wipes, gift envelopes—and put them all in one store. Ranking makes it easy to breeze by the brightly lit, clearly ranked items, pick up the most highly recommended toothpaste or most popular J-pop album, and be on your way. The easy-to-understand system helps make sense of the myriad categories of Japanese consumer goods.

I began to realize that in Japan, people don’t just want to suspect they’re making a good purchasing decision, they need to know. Ranking Ranqueen taps into this innate cultural behavior by validating the shopper's choice as one that everyone else is making, too.

4. D47: Where provenance is put on display

For first-time travelers to Japan, it's all about Tokyo and Kyoto—most don’t realize that the country is woven together with a collection of prefectures, each with its own signature tools, crafts, and food. As a restaurant, museum, and design travel store, the D47 concept puts the spotlight on lesser-known cities.

At the restaurant, patrons are asked to choose where their food comes from, instead of selecting items they’d like to eat. The museum offers rotating exhibits. One of my favorites asked each prefecture to put together the "perfect gift box"—allowing visitors to experience the best from each region.

5. Kurage ga kumoni naru hi: Where loyalty is earned

Every year, our IDEO Tokyo studio goes on an off-site to immerse ourselves in a new part of Japan and set our goals for the upcoming year. Kanazawa was one destination, and dinner at Kurage ga kumoni naru hi was our last meal.

The menu comprised of just five items, all handwritten on a sheet. Confused by the lack of choice, we ended up ordering multiples of everything and were incredibly satisfied with the beautiful food. Just before the bill came, our server presented a tray of 10 blank wooden tokens, which she proceeded to pass out to each of us, one by one, saying, “The next time you come here, bring this token, and you will unlock a new set of dishes on the menu.” It was as if we’d uncovered a secret new level in a video game. We were definitely coming back to unlock it.

Kanazawa is hours from Tokyo, but we can't wait to see what the next part of this culinary adventure holds in store.

This article first appeared in digital magazine Ignition: ignition.co

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In 2011, I moved here to help start the IDEO Tokyo studio and immediately started collecting a list of places that push us to think of the everyday in new ways. As designers, we thrive on inspiration, and this country is overflowing with it, from carefully curated hospitality to sculpted food to the incredible assortment of subcultures. As with everything in Japan, each experience compels a look beneath the surface to truly grasp its meaning and intention.

We took a trip to the factory to see how far they’d come. The building looks more Willy Wonka than gritty Chicago. It features colorful banners on the front, greenhouses on the roof, and sun-tracking solar panels in the parking lot. A wind turbine spins in the back and the property even keeps its own colony of bees. Yet, as we explored inside, I found the most compelling part of their story was how human they decided to be along the way.

These folks are seriously clean.

Method is a B Corporation, which means they are a mission-driven company that follows certain environmental and social standards. Our tour guide Shannon, an old soap industry vet, helped us understand what this means at Method. We learned that each employee receives two paid volunteer days per year to help an organization of their choice. All ingredients used are sustainably sourced and packaged, mostly in recycled containers, and the energy surplus from their wind turbine and solar cells goes back into the grid. They even chose to forego factory fences and built a sidewalk through their property so their neighbors can more easily access nearby shops.

Method takes bottle service to the next level.

One of Method’s biggest inefficiencies was bottling, as the company they work with had bottles traveling nearly 1,000 miles before being filled and packaged. They built this new factory with enough space to bring the bottling company in-house, taking 1,000 miles down to 1,000 feet. Add to that a fleet of bio-diesel semi trucks used for delivery and you have a pretty efficient system.

Soap and salad, anyone?

Method rents their 75,000 square foot rooftop to Gotham Greens, a New York-based urban agriculture company, making it one of the largest rooftop greenhouses in the world. The fully automated setup has seeds entering one end and fresh, ready-to-buy produce exiting the other. (Hot tip for Chicago veggie lovers: Check out Gotham Greens' Windy City Crunch lettuce. It’s so fresh it hits shelves in just two days, compared to the average two weeks!)

As our tour wrapped up, Shannon told us a story about the biggest criticism lobbed at Method. In the world of eco-friendly soap making, Method is frowned upon for using color dyes and fragrances in their soaps, prompting some to claim Method isn’t even a “green” soap company. However, Shannon helped us understand this decision. It turns out, it takes more energy to dye the plastic in each soap bottle than it does to dye the soap. So, given that consumers want to pick brightly colored things from shelves, dyeing the soap is a better solution.

The story illustrates the fact that being eco-friendly is never simple. Instead, it involves many decisions, involving all facets of an organization. Having seen inside the factory, we emerged believing that Method was truly committed to making the planet—and our homes—a little bit cleaner.

Photos courtesy of Method, Sophie Feng, and Magen McAfee.

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Method Soap began in a grungy San Francisco flat, where roommates Eric Ryan and Adam Lowry started mixing eco-friendly soap recipes in beer pitchers. Now, 15 years later, they've opened the industry’s first LEED Platinum certified factory in Chicago’s Historic Pullman District.

Laughter erupted. Who in their right mind names their blog after an invertebrate?

A few days later: Headlines pour in about a spunky boneless creature, affectionately named Inky, who’d popped the lid of his tank in the National Aquarium of New Zealand and escaped down a drain hole to the Pacific Ocean. The soccer-ball-sized cephalopod was instantly exalted by the Internets for his smarts, curiosity, and, it must be said, insistence on being free. One commenter crowned him the “world's greatest hero.” Inky now has 280 followers on Twitter.

Upon further investigation, it turns out that octopuses are the designers of the deep sea. They collect coconut shells as mobile homes, assemble the perfect number of rocks to narrow the opening to their dens, and use their water jets to clean their lairs, like 8-legged Marie Kondos.

Indeed, they’ve been observed doing all the things we prize here at IDEO: "Octopuses engage in play, the deliberate, repeated, outwardly useless activity through which smarter animals explore their world and refine their skills...." They’re supremely multidisciplinary, big-brained and emotional, and they may even be possessed of a soul.

A mollusc that designs its environs, can change color and shape, and sprays ink like an old-fashioned pen? What more suitable mascot for IDEO’s blog, we thought. And so we let Inky take over our masthead forevermore.

The Octopus is intended to be a drive-thru for quick hits of inspiration. Our designers will share their thoughts on craft—how that shows up in their Moleskines and Instagrams and blogs and fonts and posters. They’ll offer how-tos and hot tips and other occupational obsessions.

Last week's obsession was Inky, so we had Greg, a designer in our Tokyo office, draw him, and Derek, a developer in our Chicago office, set him afloat (watch this space—Inky will be reimagined by guest artists).

“He is such a curious boy,” Rob Yarrell, the manager of New Zealand's national aquarium told the Guardian. “He would want to know what’s happening on the outside. That’s just his personality.” We want to know what’s happening on the outside, too. And we hope you’ll follow along as we squiggle out of our tank, pour our baggy bodies into a narrow opening, and seek out a better-designed world.

Header image courtesy of National Aquarium of New Zealand

Our blog needed a name. Like millions who’ve started blogs before us, we sat around a table and tossed around ideas, most with “design” tacked on, like a fake mustache. Exasperated after many false starts, someone blurted, “Let’s just call it The Octopus.”

If you’re not careful, that is. If you have tendencies toward indulgence. If you’re running on four hours' sleep thanks to an incredibly wakeful baby who recently exited your womb and moved into your house. If you like food.

It’s not that the food is unhealthy, it’s that it’s so plentiful. A nicely stocked office fridge and pantry is one thing; day after day of roasted brussels sprouts, kale and beet quinoa, and lemon chicken thighs left over from catered meetings is another. Not to mention the green tea Kit Kats brought back from research trips to Japan, the home-baked butter biscuits whipped up by well-meaning office mates, the bottomless bins of chocolate-covered almonds and cheddar bunnies taunting you behind those cabinet doors. All right, maybe the food’s not the healthiest.

I needed a plan, a tool of some kind to wield wooden-cross-style in the face of so much vampiric deliciousness.

For most people the food at my workplace is a dream come true, but for me it quickly becomes a nightmare of unchecked indulgence. When I came back from maternity leave, I knew I needed help. I needed a plan, a tool of some kind to wield wooden-cross-style in the face of so much vampiric deliciousness. I found that tool in my iPhone camera and a Tumblr feed.

I Didn’t Eat This is a blog of all the food at IDEO I’ve managed not to eat.

Photographing treats gave me a different way to consume them. I still got to have my moment with that cookie. While framing it up on my phone, I could savor its delectableness and availability—its sultry, loose, wanton availability, just sitting there on that napkin all alone—but then, instead of popping it in my mouth, I'd just hit a button and move on. I’d leave satisfied, yet the cookie would remain. One of my coworkers remarked that when I snapped a pic, I was capturing the cookie’s soul.

Sharing the blog became important, too. Word got around the office that I was using I Didn’t Eat This as tool for behavior change. The accountability helped. With every post, someone would joke that they had, in fact, eaten it—all the spiced carrot cake with orange-scented frosting that somebody brought from home—and I told them that was great. The blog wasn’t about shame or guilt. It celebrated food. And it celebrated my growing ability to say no to it.

One of my coworkers remarked that when I snapped a pic, I was capturing the cookie’s soul.

And, amazingly, it started to work. I replaced one behavior with another and the pounds began to drop. True, my new habit kept the cupcakes out of my piehole, but its real power was that it made me mindful. I now experienced a moment of choice — of personal agency — when I spied something yummy in the kitchen. Did I want to eat that yumminess or take its picture? Taste the food or just toast to it?

I’m now about eleven months into this experiment and I wish I could say that sticky brioche french toast bites no longer hold my mind prisoner, but nothing is ever that easy. I will say, though, that the moments of agency build on one another. It feels good to be in control. Soon after I started the blog, I found myself dusting off the old food-tracker app, drinking more water, and eventually working out.

It’s rare that I stick with any behavior for more than a few months at a time, but whenever one slips out of reach, another is there to rise and take its place, like an endless supply of chocolate-covered almonds. Or another slice of spiced carrot cake with orange-scented frosting. Or a cheddar-cheese arepa with chipotle aioli, all cozied up in a handy to-go wrapper.

Maybe I better go free up some space on my iPhone.

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Here’s what they won’t tell you about IDEO, or for that matter any company where you might happen to work: It will make you fat.

Here’s what they won’t tell you about IDEO, or for that matter any company where you might happen to work: It will make you fat.

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.