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.

I was fortunate enough to work closely with Liu on an art installation about food's carbon footprint when she was a Researcher in Residence at IDEO's Design for Food Studio. The piece was exhibited at the Asian Art Museum in San Francisco in collaboration with the Perennial, a sustainability-focused restaurant. Thanks to that project, I became an expert in engineering ways to pop balloons, and also a major Liu fan. I caught up with her to hear more about what inspires her work.

In one sentence, who are you?

I am an artist, long-distance runner, sci-fi dreamer, and corgi-lover.

What do you do? How did you learn it?

I am incredibly lucky to have my dream job: thinking deeply about technology, and making the art to express it. I followed a meandering path. First, I learned how to express ideas visually and spatially by studying architecture at Harvard, and from there, I became a VR geek. Eventually, I ended up at MIT Media Lab, where I started making bioart.

The female body has long been a source of contention, where opposing ideologies in religion, politics, and cultural differences often play out. In this video, Ani explores what would happen if women could control something inherently male: Spermatozoa.

3 favorite possessions?

1. My best friend's wisdom tooth
2. My mother's family album
3. A collection of smells I've bottled from those I love

What does a typical work session look like?

The beginning of my projects involve a lot of research. The process often starts with a large cup of coffee, a stack of papers, and my sketchbook in hand. In the next phase, I am often found visiting other scientists' labs to ask questions. I've sought advice on everything from how to use an EEG headset to read brainwaves properly to trying to score the right plant hormones to make flowers blossom on command.

The next phase is an enormous amount of exploring, prototyping, and failing. In the last phase, I hunker down and crank towards an impending deadline. It is often the most stressful part, but it's full of adrenaline, and my favorite.

How do you get over creative block?

I have the benefit of working across many disciplines, and I find that my love of one thing often inspires the next. If I am stuck debugging code, I'll draw, and the meditative act often untangles a logic block. When I am stuck on expressing an idea visually, I like to read physics textbooks (I know, this is unbearably geeky) to find inspiration in the way physicists express radically abstract concepts.

I also love looking for synaesthetic inspirations. I have a large collection of perfumes and scents, and sometimes breathing one in will trigger an unexpected thought or emotion, and my mind will spiral into new territories.

What was the last item on your to do list?

To plate and incubate fresh bacteria for a new art piece. I have been invited to participate in a group show on self portraits, and I am prototyping a living work of art based on my microbial signature.

How do you see the world in 2078?

I can't claim to predict the future, but I hope the approaching inevitability of continued automation and augmented intelligence will cause us to deeply question what it means to be human, and what is worth pursuing in our lifetimes.

What’s your number one bucket list item?

To finally share my life with a corgi! The top contending names are Stardust and MOSFET. I would also love to write a science fiction novel in my lifetime.

Who are you creative crushin’ on lately?

Tania Bruguera is an amazing Cuban artist and political artist whose strength and solid dedication to expressing the truth and the narrative of marginalized populations inspires me every day. In every studio I stay in, I pin up a small image of her work because the images hit me at my emotional core, but also remind me that art and design can have a profound impact on the world.

"Art is how you can see and feel the future," says Ani Liu in her TED Talk, "Smelfies" (if you haven't seen it, go watch that now). Drawing on synthetic biology, AI, and the microbiome, Liu crafts multi-sensory art and experiences that are at once beautiful, poetic, and a total mind-bender.

After outing myself as the lone office introvert, I expected a look of horror to pass over my coworker’s face. Instead she gave a knowing nod and smile, and said she’s heard this sentiment so often here that she calls IDEO an “extroverted office full of introverts.”

I was stunned. The majority of my colleagues are introverts too? How did they manage our everyday activities, like brainstorms? The goal of a brainstorm is to uncover new opportunities by bringing in fresh perspectives, but as a group activity it can make introverts clam up.

Inspired by Susan Cain’s research on the power of introverts and how solitude, like collaboration, is a crucial ingredient to creativity, I asked my fellow designers what strategies they use to incorporate solitude into the most extroverted of activities.

Here are five ways they've adapted the brainstorm for introverts:

1. The Silent Circuit

Ask each person to write a “how might we” question on a sticky note (IDEO’s standard brainstorm kickoff question) and post it around the room. For about 15 minutes, everyone walks around, silently adding as many ideas as they can to each prompt. When time’s up, everyone returns to their question and discovers a bounty of new ideas that their colleagues have given them. This approach works well for keeping large groups engaged, while providing quiet, focused time to those who want it.

2. Musical Chairs

Breaking up a big group helps encourage quieter voices. To limit the number of people in a brainstorm, split into groups of three or four and play musical chairs. Post a handful of "how might we" questions around the room, assign a group to each one, and start the music. When it stops, rotate to the next station with your team. That way, there are never too many voices to contend with, but a lot of ideas are shared. Leave time at the end for people to wander around the room and add any remaining ideas.

3. Get to the Bottom of the Stack

This is the most exhaustive brainstorming activity on this list—it can take up to two hours—but can also generate the most ideas. The goal: Each person fills an entire stack of Post-its with new ideas. (A “stack” can be a full Post-it stack divided into halves or thirds, depending on how much time you have.)

After the questions are introduced, everyone goes heads-down and captures ideas. It's a lot of silence, but it allows those who prefer to think and brainstorm silently the time and space to do it. When everyone has reached the bottom of their stack, one person volunteers to share first. As she presents, others add similar ideas or build on top of them to draw out themes.

The exercise can be a great empathy builder. For a project about helping high school students build purpose in their life, a team used the prompt, “What are your most awkward memories from high school?”

4. Office Hours

This one came from Fast Company: Instead of asking people to commit to a crowded, hour-long session, reserve a space and ask folks to stop by for 5-10 minutes to contribute ideas—in between meetings, on the way to lunch, etc. This gives people permission to come and go as they please, and limits the number of voices in the room at one time. To make participation even easier, introduce the questions a day in advance—over email or in a calendar invite—to give people time to think.

5. The Slow Build

Post a question in a shared space in the office—the kitchen, in the bathroom, by the bike rack—and allow people to add ideas over several days. At our San Francisco studio, we post monthly questions and prompts in one of the private, unisex bathrooms in our office. The questions often ask people to reflect: “I feel loved when…” and “I show my love by…” Or, “What’s something new you want to try this year?” As an introvert, it’s my porcelain palace.

How do you create the conditions that can help everyone feel welcome and heard at work? I’d love to hear your ideas.

Thanks to Charla Bear, Minnie Bredouw, Deirdre Cerminaro, Eileen Farrell, Peter Macdonald, and Heather Ross for their contributions and inspiration.

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One day, I confided in a coworker: “I feel like an impostor in such an extroverted office.” The culture here is built on constant interaction—every question is an opportunity for collaboration, we work exclusively in teams, and our brainstorms encourage everyone to think out loud. It exhausts me.

What could be more satisfying than a blueberry in every waffle hole? My son Tom took his time to arrange everything just perfectly before gobbling it down. Even if you are not meticulous enough to do it yourself, I'd be surprised if the same idea didn't cross your mind. It makes me think about all of the times that I've thoughtlessly (or thoughtfully) constructed my own bites—optimizing for flavor, making sure that there are goodies in every bite, until my plate is clean.

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.

As a result, I spent most of my time finding problems, real or imagined, and adding them to a growing list of things I would solve to make my mark. My notebooks from those days suggest that I believed I would be a hero one day, but for now, was resigned to suffer through unrewarding and lonely work. I was an asshole. And you get what you give.

I had started a project with Quiksilver, and with that came a new relationship with a very successful creative director, Erik (now a good friend). Erik invested in inspiration for himself and everyone on his team. He made sure he was creatively nourished—maybe even selfishly so, if that can be said in a positive way—and emulating the kind of creative culture he wanted to instill. It was mutual and reciprocal among his team.

He inspired me, too. I wrote a simple note on a Post-It and stuck it to my computer:

“Be the leader you wish you had.”

I know. It’s all Gandhi and shit (apologies, Gandhi, for any disservice in my comparison). But it shifted my thinking radically. I made a commitment to own my happiness and creative experience.

That week, over regular tears-and-beers drinks with a colleague, we were laughing over an article in Vice called “Wear Dare” in which a couple of friends dressed one another for a day and described their embarrassing moments. We wondered what that would be like at work…

“Let’s do it,” I said. Following my new directive.

We goaded each other through nervous fear, laughter, and finally action… what if this goes wrong? Or worse, what if it goes right?

We invited everyone to put his or her name in a hat and drew at random…

Here’s what happened:

It was the
best
day
ever.

It was joyous and unserious. It wasn’t about fixing; it was about sparking something and letting go.

Only four people didn’t participate out of a studio of nearly 60. I am sure they regretted it! And looking back, I believe that day was a key moment in a process of transformation for myself, using my position for fun instead of misery. It was that raw creative act that broke the dam for me.

Around that time, the project leader for the Quiksilver work came to me with the idea of traveling the California coast in an RV—you know, “as research.” I knew he expected me to say no. And it would certainly lose us a bit of money, but I suppressed the leaderly should and followed my new directive and said yes.

My landlubber colleagues got to be surfers for a few weeks. I joined the team on the road and reconnected with my surf-teen years in San Diego. More importantly, surfing every day, sketching in the sunset over beer and pizza in roadside campgrounds with a bunch of other (mostly) dudes, trading ideas until we fell asleep in the RV, and fomenting the growing optimism and joy of building play into our workday led to the design of great concepts for the client—some of which went to market.

Other changes followed.

We hired some amazing people, who we never would have hired prior, as interviews shifted from picking people apart to finding and supporting possibility.

For a colleague’s wedding we dressed up in Tyvek suits and marched, single file, to the courthouse through Cambridge, MA. (That's what you see in the image up top).

We did design fiction exercises over lunch. The culture began to be one that craved creative pokes to encourage the flow of great ideas.

The studio evolved from being a quiet participant in the business to a creatively rowdy collection of designers from Boston producing content that the rest of IDEO references.

How we were began to shape what we did.

So much had changed with that simple note to myself.

I’m not suggesting that dressing your colleagues in thrift store pantsuits will fix everything. Nor that you need to hit your nadir and be ready to quit before you can find the inspiration to lead from your creative self.

In fact, this is not really about you or me at all.

This is about what I learned the hard way: That great creative leadership is about letting go of that nagging mental image you have of what you are supposed to do. It’s about believing in others, and focusing on fanning the flames of creative, weird, exothermic people, rather than on fixing problems.

How you approach your day is how you will live your life.

If you see your role as a list of broken things that need to be fixed, life will deliver you nothing but. But if you actively seek creativity and fun, and enjoy a little embarrassing dress up now and again, you might just find yourself successfully in the middle of the vibrant culture you’d once wished for.

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When I was a fresh, newly appointed lead in our Boston studio, I struggled to have much fun. I believed I was a fixer of broken things, thinking, and people. The story I told myself was that I was a martyr for the fun others were having while I dealt with the important leaderly stuff.

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.