Since its founding over a century ago, Tokyo College of Music (TCM) has trained countless world-class musicians. Despite its well-established reputation, however, the school was feeling a pressing need to reconsider its role in order to remain relevant in a changing world.

The college had plans to build a second campus in Daikanyama, a prominent area of Tokyo known for being a hotbed for new global trends. Taking advantage of this opportunity, TCM leaders asked IDEO to help them develop a new concept for the school, and to redesign the learning experience while preserving a focus on classical music.

To kick off the research phases of the project, IDEO designers interviewed TCM students, and traveled to London, New York, and Boston visiting educational institutions, music schools, and arts facilities.

The team observed that students at music colleges outside of Japan were giving serious consideration to their career plans at an early stage in their studies, acquiring a variety of skills and mindsets through a well-rounded education. By contrast, TCM students were focused on learning and performing classical music, but tended not to have a clear image of future career opportunities.

IDEO proposed four specific directions for TCM’s new campus, based on an overarching theme of “culture, fields, and people collaborating across boundaries.” The first aim was to foster a business mindset and entrepreneurial spirit among the students that surpassed their classical music training. Next was to increase opportunities for actual performances, collaborations with professionals outside the school, and joint projects. The third aim was to position the college as a platform that would encourage the spontaneous creation of communities within and outside the school. The final aim was to develop students who were digitally savvy and fluent in new technologies, enabling them to continue evolving in response to developments in the real world. These goals are reflected in the various spaces of the school, as well as in the design of the experiences that occur in those spaces.

The most symbolic of these spaces is the Creative Lab. Originally intended as a library, the space now functions as a platform where people from within and outside the school community can collaborate and generate innovative ideas. The open layout, which encloses a cafeteria for students and faculty, can be altered depending on programming needs. The Creative Lab provides a venue not only for live performances in which the students can polish their improvisational skills, but for holding workshops and other events on topics such as cultural exchange, business, and new technologies.

New furniture and objects were carefully selected to inspire spontaneous encounters and conversation between students from different departments and staff, creating a flow of activity.

Even the landings on the staircases, which tend to be dead space, were designed with this concept in mind. One student commented that the space facilitates meeting new people and creates “opportunities for deeper interaction with students from other departments.” This intentional, open design has transformed the space into a hub within the school and the local community.

Through the new environment and educational opportunities at TCM's Daikanyama campus, students now have stronger opportunities to apply their creative talents in numerous fields worldwide, creating impact informed by the various perspectives, skills, and relationships they have developed at TCM.

Georgia is among the most populous states in the American South. It’s a place with a storied past and promising future—on the rise economically, and continuing its powerful cultural impact on music, TV, cuisine, and tourism. Over 10.4 million people call Georgia home, and nearly all of these people will at some point navigate the state’s websites for securing everyday services. Ideally, this online platform would provide unifying and accessible government resources for everyone, whether they’re renewing their vehicle registration, seeking a fishing license, or looking up tax law updates.

Georgia’s Office of Digital Services (DSGA), part of the Georgia Technology Authority, was challenged with designing a platform to modernize the collective and individual online presence of 80+ state agencies, many of which used visually disconnected formats and color palettes that could leave the public feeling confused. DSGA recognized that they could provide more efficient and higher quality service to the public if they simplified the language, designed the site from the user's point of view, and created a more cohesive look and feel across agencies.

IDEO worked with the DSGA to identify the priorities of Georgia residents who use the various agency websites. On a road trip from Savannah to Atlanta, with stops in Macon and Dublin, the IDEO team immersed themselves in the rich culture of Georgia, connecting with social workers, low-income residents, state agency leadership and civic organizations to learn how Georgia’s digital properties could better address their disparate needs.

The design research underscored that there isn’t just one Georgia—it’s a tapestry of people, geographies and political orientations. Yet several common themes emerged, including:

Georgians want their government to “give it to them straight.” On the redesigned Georgia.gov platform, the people of Georgia can easily search popular topics to get the information they need. This includes learning how to apply for food stamps, renewing a business license, or simply finding out the location of a local office in their area. If a user has remaining questions, they can connect directly with a real human for further assistance, balancing direct information with warmth and a personal touch. User feedback on the site provides the opportunity for continuous design improvement.

Georgians want to take pride in the legacy and the future of their state. IDEO developed an entirely new design system with new navigational elements, fonts, and a color palette inspired by Georgia’s landscapes, all of which can be modified for individual agencies while remaining consistent with the state brand.

A distillation of the original Georgia seal adds authority, and new icons anchor the site’s menus and bring more clarity to the search function. The platform was designed to be Section 508 and WCAG 2.0 AA compliant, providing clear and accessible page content that adheres to federal laws and international web standards. To instill trust in Georgia’s online presence, each page also has a header that indicates it’s an official Georgia State website and outlines the uniform features constituents can use to identify this.

With improved navigation and easy-to-access prioritized content, Georgia.gov is a much more efficient platform for addressing requests from citizens. The site projects a happy-to-help, citizen-centered approach that aims to empower all Georgians so that they feel confident, informed, and prepared.

According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, nearly 30 million Americans have diabetes, almost 10% of the population. The vast majority of these diagnoses are type 2, which is commonly treated through a combination of medicine, diet, and exercise. Today, one of the major barriers to better outcomes is access to trusted information. As little as 15 percent of people with diabetes receive adequate education from their healthcare providers on managing their disease and making recommended lifestyle changes.

Ascensia Diabetes Care, a global healthcare company, has been a leader in diabetes treatment for over 70 years, known primarily for producing blood glucose meters. IDEO has worked with Ascensia for more than a decade, helping develop and design their CONTOUR NEXT ONE meter in 2016. In 2017, Ascensia engaged IDEO with a new goal of moving the company beyond physical devices. Ascensia envisioned a first-of-its-kind approach to educating and monitoring diabetes patients. In partnership with IDEO, they wanted to build a comprehensive solution—one that would not simply take glucose readings and document food intake, but would consider all factors that impact a person's health.

Through deep collaboration, Ascensia and IDEO built a powerful app-based service. The project began with a strategic vision for the experience and ended with the delivery of an all-encompassing health offering, including training of providers, packaging, app design, content creation, and visual design.

The patient experience married data and tracking, real-life mentorship, and personalized content. When a patient signed up, they were paired with a Certified Diabetes Educator (CDE) who created a tailored program based on their needs and linked them to relevant articles on topics like cooking, mental wellbeing, and sexual health. The IDEO team led the charge in hiring and training guides, crafting the educational content, and even designing the content management hub.

The data engine behind the app is another one of the program's stand-out qualities. The app pulled data from multiple data sources—exercise bands and glucose meters—to provide constant feedback, track progress, and continually refine the experience. To generate empathy, as well as build the app's initial data set, IDEO's data scientists tested the product on themselves. One designer wore a wrist full of exercise monitors around the office and tracked her blood sugar after every meal.

The app-based service was tested with 60 people and demonstrated remarkable early results. Only two participants failed to complete the study—a stunning success rate when adherence to therapy for chronic illnesses in developed countries averages around 50%. Additionally, participants reported drastic improvements in both physical and mental health. One recently widowed 70-year-old woman emerged from depression, returned to swimming, and started having regular blood sugar readings.

The project required Ascensia to embrace new ways of working internally, adopt a broader view of their offering, and ultimately expand the way they serve people with diabetes.

When Mr. Gordon told his fifth grade students they were taking a field trip on a bus, many of them envisioned the city bus that they ride each day to school. But when they saw the Verizon Explorer Lab pull into the school parking lot, they realized a unique experience awaited them. Painted in bright colors, this bus promised something very different from their daily commute.

“Climb aboard, explorers!” says the Lead Explorer. The students walk through the bus’ sliding doors and inside, where instead of rows of seats, they find a sleek research lab. Suddenly, the lights dim. The bus makes a rumbling noise as though it’s about to lift off. And on a large screen, a vision of Earth from space appears. The students listen and point as the video narrator briefs them on NASA’s ongoing search for life in space.

Science education isn’t always this fun. Some kids have a chance to learn through interactive games, immersive experiences, or engaging field trips; but many lack access to rich educational experiences in science, technology, engineering, and math (STEM). As a result, they can be less likely to pursue careers in STEM, though many future jobs will demand mastery of these subjects. This not only impacts a student’s potential and future, but reduces the diversity and number of qualified STEM job applicants.

In under-resourced schools, students are often limited to the scarce tools available for STEM learning in their classrooms. Many kids rarely have a chance to leave their neighborhoods. For these kids, mobile learning experiences that come to their school offer unparalleled exposure to cutting-edge, technologically advanced, and—most importantly—inspiring gateways into these critical academic subjects.

As part of its focus on digital inclusion, Verizon partnered with IDEO to share the excitement of STEM learning with middle schoolers. To facilitate access and discovery of STEM, the team designed a learning experience that takes place on a coach bus and can be scaled to reach kids across the nation.

The team set out to transform the bus into the Verizon Explorer Lab: a futuristic research lab that transports kids to new environments, from outer space to under the sea. As part of the larger Verizon Innovative Learning program, the Verizon Explorer Lab offers delightful and rigorous content that meets national science standards.

A multidisciplinary team comprised of designers across interaction, communication, environments, games, and software partnered with Verizon to bring the Verizon Explorer Lab to life.

To keep the student at the center of the experience, the team designed alongside kids. Their gravitation toward play, interaction, and technology inspired the digital game that students play onboard the bus. When developing the game’s narrative, the designers turned to popular kids’ books and movies. What began as a card game prototype eventually became a 360-degree video and virtual reality expedition to Mars—complete with a custom musical score—that introduces middle schoolers to engineering basics.

After stepping through the bus doors and taking a tour of the solar system, Mr. Gordon’s students receive an emergency call from NASA: They must rescue the missing Curiosity rover, which is dedicated to collecting evidence of life on Mars. Eager to save Curiosity, the students become immersed in the adventure at hand. And through the adventure, they become immersed in science.

Students use tablets to design their own Mars rover. Each rover appears on a large screen and traverses the planet’s extreme terrain. The goal is to collect data that suggests life on Mars, including ice deposits, photos, and more. Students iterate on their rover’s design—wheels, power sources, and sensors—to test if it can stand up against dust storms and craters. The team consulted a NASA planetary scientist to ensure accuracy, as well as educators to establish cohesion with classroom curricula.

During the game, students are encouraged to compare designs and learn from each other: One rover may be able to travel long distances and take various photos, while another can carry large quantities of ice and sediment samples but can’t go far because of its size. At the end of the mission, the group finds Curiosity and sends all of the evidence they’ve collectively gathered back to NASA to aid the search for life beyond Earth. Before departing the bus, students watch an animated video that explains various jobs in STEM and encourages kids to pursue one of these careers.

The Verizon Explorer Lab teaches students the engineering design loop, the value of collaboration and teamwork, and what a career in STEM might look like. The mission to Mars game is just one of many potential STEM learning opportunities for students and integrated, customizable learning modules for teachers.

Since launch, the Verizon Explorer Lab has traveled to various parts of the United States and reached thousands of kids. It continues to be managed by Learning Undefeated, Verizon’s nonprofit partner. By designing for and with students, it’s possible to create educational experiences that facilitate meaningful learning and genuine fun. The Verizon Explorer Lab represents progress towards a more inclusive future for employers and the STEM field.

Picture the tower teetering and collapsing. Undeterred, you start over, stacking the blocks a little higher before the same thing happens again. With each attempt, your structure gets a little bit taller until you finally get the base just right, the balance just so and manage to build a magnificent tower that brings a big smile to your face.

How would you describe what just happened? Was this work or play? While one may initially see this as play, a deeper exploration surfaces what could actually be seen as an ideal work scenario. The child you imagined was focused, driven, and resilient as they worked towards achieving their vision.

When play is observed in this way, we understand that play and work aren't opposites. In fact, work—when accompanied by a playful mindset—can be highly effective, even joyful. So, instead of shunning play when taking on hard work, how might we embrace it? How might we take on today's toughest challenges—like the climate crisis—through play?

IDEO’s Play Lab has spent 25 years not only designing toys and games, but also developing deep expertise in understanding how play can shift consumer behaviors, overcome organizational blockers and empower us to take action—three important lessons that can help us make significant strides in transitioning our world to a circular economy.

Play is key for: Driving consumer behavior change

Changing consumer habits in support of a circular model can be an admittedly big ask. We’ve become all too comfortable with a linear economy model where the most intuitive path is to simply throw an object away after use. Knowing this, how might we convince consumers to choose new climate-friendly behaviors that may not be as familiar, easy or cheap as what they’re currently doing?

Telling people “the world is burning!” might catch someone’s attention. However, research has shown that fear-inducing appeals can actually be counterproductive in the long run, as audiences become overwhelmed or desensitized. Rather than sparking action, many climate messages are stoking climate anxiety and contributing to a growing mental health crisis that prompts despair, not action.

Fear isn’t an effective motivator, but what about play? Can we use play to tap into feelings of joy, satisfaction, achievement, and community to achieve long-term behavior change? Growing scientific evidence is demonstrating the benefits of positive psychology in supporting pro-environmental practices.

According to Barbara Fredrickson’s “broaden and build” theory, positive emotions promote growth and build human capacity to learn and gain skills, as opposed to negative emotions, which tend to narrow one’s thinking. When we can align with what brings people joy, it’s easier to ignite passion, and passion is what helps people carry through on their promises—even if those promises require tough trade-offs.

We sought to drive environmentally-minded behavioral change through the Beyond the Bag Challenge, which was launched by the Consortium to Reinvent the Retail Bag alongside the Managing Partner, Closed Loop Partners, and Founding Partners CVS Health, Target and Walmart. In reinventing the retail bag, we asked innovators to rethink the way consumers transport goods from store to home. It’s a mountain of a problem, both literally and figuratively, and replacing a wildly optimized plastic bag is no easy feat.

The nine challenge winners developed solutions ranging from a returnable system to a tag-and-app system that allows consumers to track environmental impact and earn rewards via the reusable bags they already own. Each of these solutions requires new behaviors, and aspects of play were leveraged to drive long-term engagement with the bag services.

For instance, customers could earn points for reusing bags and returning bags. We tested various ratios of points-to-reward to determine how we might motivate the desired behavior, while remaining financially sustainable. We had to determine what rewards (like being able to redeem points for coupons or carbon offsets) most resonated and what points system was easiest to understand, with a clear correlation between action and reward. Moreso, the reward system had to act as direct feedback for customers to see how their behaviors were aligning with intrinsic goals and feelings of pride and identity, versus falling into the all-too-common gamification trap of only serving up extrinsic rewards, which can often stop short of driving long-term motivation. Unless this system was designed with care, customers would lose trust and revert back to previous behaviors.

In addition to a thoughtful rewards system, we used narrative to align the program’s principles with customers’ personal values, reinforcing intrinsic motivation to encourage sustained behavior over time. A cohesive narrative can serve as a valuable frame of reference, validating the customer’s actions and reinforcing their decision to participate in a reuse program. With environmental efforts, customers often ask “why bother?” To answer this question, we discovered an opportunity to offer meaningful statistics in a way that feels relevant, human and tangible—for example, “If you commit to ditching the single use habit, you can save 72 plastic bags this year. If every adult in the US did the same, that would be a CO2 offset equivalent to shutting down a coal power plant for 7 years.”

Play is key for: Overcoming organizational blockers

The transition to being a more sustainably minded organization is not an easy one. As a manufacturing company, how do you convince your employees to buy into a circular economy, change work processes and contribute to new climate goals? How does the lone sustainability expert transform an organization that desperately clings to existing processes, even while facing pressure from impending government regulations and changing customer sentiment? It can be truly daunting to have built your business selling goods and now realize that the rules of the game have changed to require you to extract fewer resources from the Earth and produce less waste.

It’s natural to feel stuck. When faced with constraints of cost, optimized tooling and processes, existing manufacturing and transport partners, as well as consumer expectations for a rotating assortment of fresh, new products, how can one even think about doing anything that might upset this perfectly balanced machine?

Rather than be paralyzed by these constraints and the need to get it right from the start, adopting a playful mindset can help an organization reframe the move to a circular economy as an opportunity for innovation—a chance to try creative new approaches and processes that haven’t been evolved for decades.

When Pam Alabaster, Mattel’s Head of Global Sustainability, joined forces with IDEO to develop a series of Circular Economy Workshops for the company, she came to us with an inspiring mantra of “Progress, not Perfection.” Through play, we could introduce circular design principles while creating a protected space insulated from real-world stakes, so that participants could temporarily put aside the constraints of their jobs, challenge assumptions and dream of new possibilities.

By imagining how they might battle the “villains” of a linear economy—like the Monstrous Hybrid, with multiple materials fused together, or Packagus Maximus, who is surrounded in excess packaging—designers from various departments at Mattel had permission to step out of long-held boundaries and experiment, while removing the heavy mantle of "this is overwhelming and impossible."

“Through education and a common understanding across the organization of what we can do together, we’re equipping our amazing group of talented and passionate people with the tools they need to not stand on the sidelines but be part of this transition and help move us forward,” says Alabaster.

Indeed, in polling the designers at the beginning and end of the workshops, we saw them grow increasingly confident in their company’s ability to achieve its sustainability goals. Many people entered feeling uncertain about what a more sustainable path might look like but left with practical tools and a mindset that made it seem possible.

Play is key for: Piloting and prototyping sustainable solutions quickly

When considering climate action there are many good intentions but there’s not always a lot of forward movement advancing solutions. Because the consequences of our actions don’t feel immediate, it can be easy to spend more time talking and strategizing than diving in to implement plans to see what might actually work.

Play, on the other hand, is active. This is obvious when you watch kids play. Rather than sit and read the directions, they’d much rather dive in and just start experimenting to see how a new toy might work. Often, because of this, they find ways to interact with products that the product’s designers never even imagined.

In Tom Wujec’s Spaghetti/Marshmallow Tower experiment, kindergarteners regularly outperform CEOs and recent business school grads because, when asked to build the tallest possible tower with the given supplies, the kindergarteners bias towards action, trying different configurations and iterating with each lesson learned. Younger children don’t stop to wonder what’s possible—or worse, what isn’t possible. They simply jump in and try. For them, failures aren’t seen as obstacles; they’re learning opportunities to fail fast and succeed sooner.

IDEO partnered with the NextGen Consortium, convened by Closed Loop Partners, to explore the question: “How might we design the next generation fiber cup to be recoverable on a global scale, while maintaining the performance standards we know and trust?” Tackling it meant creating innovation at a systems level and considering the entire cup ecosystem: brands, suppliers, municipalities, materials recovery facilities and mills, the general public, and more.

There’s the cup itself, and there’s also the way it’s used: changing how customers order, how baristas select and serve the cup, how customers dispose of or return the cup, and how the cup is washed or thrown out. The sheer scale can feel so big as to be immovable. Adopting a mindset of play helped us get moving quickly.

The NextGen Pilot Readiness Program was a series of live, in-market pilots in the San Francisco Bay Area to further test and refine promising reusable and single-use solutions in local cafes. As compared to a traditional retail pilot, we weren’t trying to validate the solutions but rather identify challenges and test solutions around those.

On the very first day, we engaged in role play activities to work out how the cashier would engage with the customer about the service. Every time we played through it, participants’ explanations of the service became clearer, and it became obvious how we could change the order of operations to run smoothly. It allowed us to arrive at a script we had confidence in sharing with the cashiers in the field.

This process is representative of our approach: start on a smaller scale in an environment with limited risk. From there, gather feedback to iterate, experiment and test. By prototyping not just at the end but throughout the process, we come to see how elements of the solution can readily be re-evaluated and evolved. When it comes to prototypes, very little is sacred. This is an opportunity to push wide, experiment, and learn in service of surfacing new ideas and approaches.

In the course of role playing, one of the participants told us they felt a little silly engaging in this way. The comment was unsurprising. As adults, we often regard play as fun and lighthearted, as something extracurricular to our working lives. We don’t always see the connection between play and progress, but it’s there. There may have been elements that felt a little silly in role play (we actually believe that laughter throughout the creative process is an indicator that it’s going well!), but this was also a very concrete first step. It started an important conversation, underpinned with excitement about innovation and problem solving.

These are the kinds of conversations that companies and organizations need to be having if we are to move the needle with sustainable solutions. Sustainability sounds good to just about everyone, but the process of getting there may be fraught with challenges. In order to overcome obstacles and change behaviors for a broad audience, we have to make sustainability feel good, and we have to make it easier to get started. Play can help get us there.

- A collaborative piece by IDEO Play Lab with special thanks to Takashi Wickes, Matt Callahan, Matt Hovde, Keren Wong and Michelle Lee

Try something with us: close your eyes and imagine yourself as a child stacking blocks higher and higher.

As head of IDEO’s global change management team, which focuses on belonging and equity, I’ve seen the importance of being rigorous with and thoughtful about the information we collect and how we share it.

Telling someone to handle data with care might suggest that it’s fragile or in danger of breaking. That’s not the way I view it. I see a responsibility to keep the data whole. It’s about integrity.

That applies from the very start: gathering and understanding your DEI data. Do so with rigor. The system, process, tools, and analysis method you’re using should stay consistent. Looking at the same factors the same way every time allows you to measure progress, and the uniformity will help people trust the data.

When it comes to data related to DEI (Harvard Business School Professor Frances Frei puts it nicely as “achievement” and “sentiment” data), the achievement part is fairly straightforward. It’s what the organization looks like across different levels of the employee life cycle in a number of demographics. There are the core metrics around representation in terms of race and gender, and some organizations also track sexuality, disability, and education. These metrics help us answer questions like: How diverse is our senior-most leadership level? Which groups are leaving the organization the fastest? Are we over- or under-recruiting certain identities? Are we promoting men faster than women?

The sentiment data is about bringing in the employee voice and getting at what it feels like to work at the organization. If the achievement data is the what, the sentiment data is the why. These are the questions around culture, about whether employees can say “I can be my authentic self at work” or “I have easy access to information.” These are the questions that help you get at whether the culture is too transactional, too cautious, whether people feel they can innovate. The achievement markers are the same across the board, but the sentiment questions tend to change by organization and can be shaped based on places you might have concerns about based on early hunches or focus groups.

Once you have collected the data, transparency is important. But pause first. The way forward is to proceed with care. Data and information can be a burden to people, especially if they don’t have the power to impact it, so it’s important to understand who holds the accountability. If you were to go out to the broader organization and say, “Hey everyone, we have a lot of evidence we’re failing on these metrics,” people will immediately want to know what you’re going to do about it. Building trust requires that you have thoughtfully considered possible interventions and solutions. There is responsibility that comes with transparency.

Design can be a powerful way to arrive at those interventions. Let the data first sit inside the group that is accountable for designing ways to prototype and pilot initiatives that might help improve future metrics. For example, if the sentiment data shows your people don’t feel like they belong upon initially joining the organization and don’t know where to get the information they need to do their job well, you likely have an onboarding problem. Maybe you’re putting a disproportionate amount of energy into recruiting but not ensuring those employees succeed once they are inside the organization.

With that insight, you can prototype interventions: What would it look like if we paired every new employee with someone from the same background or interest who is thriving in the organization? What if there was a two-week support circle for new employees every 60 days?

Once you have your interventions, you’ll want to test the ideas with a few groups of people and get their feedback: in the onboarding example, perhaps the ones who have been at your company for less than a year and the ones who the intervention might put a burden on. It's best practice to invite the employees at the margins of the organization (typically from a race and gender lens) to get their input on your recommendations—if they are willing and it’s not a burden to them—before sharing with leadership. If you’re able to design interventions that work for those most marginalized in the organization, the solutions will work for everyone.

Onboarding is something we’re working on at IDEO based on our last Culture survey. When we dug into the data we realized that as a creative organization, new hires want to tangibly contribute from day one. Great onboarding gives the security and confidence to do that, and so we have been piloting initiatives ranging from having two leaders dedicated full-time to onboarding within our talent organization to having new hires shadow a designer of the same craft on a project so they can start to understand how to create value from day one.

Once you’ve identified some potential interventions and soft-tested them with the right stakeholders, you are ready to share the data company-wide: “Here’s what we heard and learned and here are three to five things we’re going to prioritize as next steps.” You aren’t restricted to sharing shortcomings. Accentuate positive findings too, things you’re trying that are working or successes that you’re going to amplify going forward.

Especially with DEI data, remember that internal audiences are more important than external. A lot of companies capture this data and put it on their website as a recruiting and tracking tool, and that’s a great way for organizations to hold themselves accountable. However, the fastest way to break trust is to make employees feel like the data is only being captured for external purposes. Keep the emphasis on collecting and sharing data internally in service of improving employees’ experiences at the company and the effort will feel genuine.

Regularly deep diving into achievement and sentiment data can be emotionally taxing. If you’re doing this work, be sure to give yourself a way to take a break from it. Last year I started walking every morning on Chicago’s riverwalk, because it grounds me and gives me perspective. It’s easy to get hyper-focused on the challenges or overwhelmed by the gaps we need to fix and inequalities we need to right. Taking a moment to get my body outside and walk around helps remind me there’s more beyond the problems I’m trying to solve and helps me be present for people while I am working. There’s something so inspiring and revitalizing about having fresh air hit my face every day. And even though I pretty much walk the same route, I notice something new every day, something I didn’t see the day before. I try to bring this same curiosity to my work. Even though the challenge may look the same from day to day, there’s always a new idea or potential solution just one step away.

Proceed with care. It’s some of the best advice I can give when it comes to diversity, equity, and inclusion data—how to best measure it and what to do with that data once you have it.

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Clutter has the opposite effect for me, but there’s a very specific twist. If the type of clutter that drags us down is disorganized clutter—stacks of papers, discarded shoes, and items with no home—I’ve cultivated the opposite: what I like to call “curated clutter.”

I’m an industrial designer who works as an IDEO Toy Inventor in the Play Lab. My job is exactly what it sounds like: I come up with new toy and game ideas based on market research and client asks and then design and prototype them.

Like so many of us, I have been exclusively working from home in San Francisco since March 2020, and the remote working space I’ve created for myself is different from what I’ve seen so many other designers create. Theirs tend to be sleek and very minimalist. That’s never been me, even dating back to design school, when I used a desk covered in astroturf.

My workspace is an explosion of color, an arrangement of knick knacks on my desk and shelves that serve as pieces of inspiration. Some have been with me for more than 25 years. Others are recent additions, both things I’ve collected and gifts from friends and relatives who have spotted things they thought were special or entertaining and might fit well.

I don’t keep a journal, but my knick knacks function as sort of a substitute practice for that. They capture both some of the chronology of my life and the emotional state I was in when I received them. I have alien action figures from my childhood that remind me of how genuinely afraid I was of aliens as a kid and how far my thoughts and imagination could stray. But there are also items I’ve collected while dating my partner, like a meaningful piece of coral from my first trip to her home in Hawaii. It’s sort of like free-form scrapbooking, just not confined to a leather-bound tome that gathers dust. While nothing’s written down, that history is captured, and I get to scan and revisit it regularly.

The clutter is curated but not fixed. I rotate the items, and that process is rejuvenating and refreshing. To keep things from straying toward hoarder territory, I stick to a couple rules: I only hang on to the things that have some kind of value to me, and if I can’t move something without knocking something else over, I need to reassess.

I live with my partner, who is adamant that she is not a fan of clutter, but our friends will laugh and say “What are you talking about?” Her approach is an even more curated and refined way of displaying objects, and I think it’s a good illustration of there not being one “right” way to do it. Your curated clutter could be five items or five hundred. Ultimately, if clutter is made up of the things that have no home, curated clutter is made up of the things that make your home.

For many people, designing their workspace or spaces in their home is a very purely aesthetic process, like, I like the way this lamp looks, or this pencil holder looks. That process can end up being devoid of emotion, which I think can result in a space that's not necessarily built to address our emotional well-being—a consideration that’s more important than ever these days.

I know incredible designers who project a very clean designer persona and have tasteful objects in their houses: walnut, leather, beautiful brass hardware. And then you look at their inspiration boards for work and they're wacky, and I don’t see the purpose in reining in that inspiration. Sometimes the idea of what is good taste causes people to censor their living space. That’s not for me. I’d much rather be in a place that’s overstimulating than understimulating.

I would say almost every day I feel inspired by what surrounds me. It’s a library of thoughts and thought-beginners, especially my desk, which puts different textures and color combinations and parts and mechanisms in front of me. But above all else, my curated clutter provides a sense of comfort, which ends up supporting my emotional well-being. At times when I feel anxious or overwhelmed, it grounds me because it’s an extension of myself: a way of revisiting people and moments that matter. It’s like flipping through your journal to remind yourself where you come from, then feeling energized enough to flip to the next blank page and keep going.

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Multiple studies have suggested that cluttered workspaces are no good for us, or even downright harmful. Connections have been made between clutter and procrastination, stress, and even life dissatisfaction.

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On its face, those client experiences might sound worlds apart. And they were, but not for the reason you might expect.

I came to IDEO from those luxury ateliers and joined a team that was designing a new brand for Ford Motor Company. I brought with me the best of what I learned in Paris: a vigilance about being a brand-guideline guardian and a proficiency in creating highly aspirational brands.

Our remit was to come up with a brand for the innovation lab of the 118-year-old automotive company—what would come to be D-Ford. The lab’s remit was to use human-centered design to drive progress, so the brand had to give new meaning to the word “design,” which was very specifically associated with car design internally. It also had to be capable of being comfortably and regularly used by everyone, designers and non-designers alike.

We landed on a brand that involved no special fonts and a few shapes that quite literally anyone could draw. It may not sound lofty, but it was incredibly challenging. And more than that, it was impactful—on the client and on me.

In the luxury ateliers, I was accustomed to interacting with and designing for designers, not the wider organization. I operated in a space where brand books specs were jealously guarded and consistency was the goal.

With D-Ford, the goal was to maximize brand adoption, which was ultimately about adopting the purpose of the lab. To do that, we had to educate ourselves about the organization.

What unfolded was a co-design approach. Our team traveled to different parts of the company and spoke to people, even people who felt they were very far from design. That was such a different approach and scope for me, but it surfaced an important reality: design, historically, was seen as a practice for the few at Ford, where the number of engineers outweigh that of car designers.

With D-Ford, we needed everyone to feel capable of being a designer. Our team had to set up design tools that aligned with the typical employee’s skillset, meaning the brand system had to work seamlessly with Google Slides and PowerPoint.

We sat at people’s desks to see how they built presentations, which fonts they had installed on their laptops, and what they knew about Adobe. We realized we had to design soft guardrails—no software to learn, no new typefaces to install—so that whatever they produced in the lab could be easily shared across the wider organization.

The brand needed to stick, be easy to replicate, and take into account what we found to be pretty consistent opinions about specific colors and shapes across the company. For instance, every engineer wanted us to steer clear of red because of its association with danger.

We settled on three simple geometric shapes that linked to D-Ford’s three-word purpose statement and were ones that anyone could draw. A triangle for drive, a circle for human, and a plus sign for progress. They were graphic assets everyone could recreate regardless of their design proficiency, and they provided a simple but effective visual link to the story of what D-Ford stood for.

As for typeface, we ultimately chose the same one Ford was already using, meaning there was familiarity there, but we employed a different typesetting to create a completely fresh result.

The goal here was a grassroots ownership of the assets. When the 12-week project ended, our engagement with D-Ford continued [IDEO has had a nearly 20-year relationship with the carmaker], so I got to watch how the brand design was adopted and evolved and the life it took on in the hands of non-traditional designers.

For instance, there was one lab team member who had never designed anything for print before. He used the simple templates that had been created to design a booklet for a presentation he was giving. His enthusiasm and confidence in sharing his creative work with another engineering division was the type of behavior we had hoped the internal brand would foster.

Brand design is often mistaken with art. It has an artistic component but needs to be democratic. We didn’t want to create the brand as an art piece to look at but as an open book to use. The only way to make that happen was to be very empathetic. We needed empathy to understand the employees’ worries, challenges, and motivators within their existing culture, but even more than that, we had to understand what was needed to promote a different behavior—a culture of experimentation.

The aesthetics of design are important. It’s what gives us as designers the sensitivity to what works and what doesn’t visually. But the aesthetic is only as good as what people can do with it.

What attracted me to design in the first place was that I was going to push materials to the edge to design something that would be compelling. That was certainly true with luxury, where I regularly tested how far I could push tangible things. How much can I bend this plastic without it cracking? At D-Ford, I needed to bend people and their behaviors, and it was much less tangible.

The D-Ford work helped me understand the value of that different kind of design work and really demonstrated how impactful your work can be even if it feels at first like it’s going to be more gray.

Giving up the reins and not having tight control of the usage of the brand—it’s a challenge to the ego. But that’s part of what it means to design a brand that is owned by the people. If you distribute ownership you distribute ego.

That made for a humbling experience. It helped me realize how complex an organization can be and that brand does not have to get in the way of it. If anything it needs to simplify. If I had listened to that ego the end result may have been loftier and better for my personal portfolio. But the work would not have had the impact the organization needed. In the end, the right impact is what every designer strives for.

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I’m in a drafty room in Farringdon, London, shaking the hands of a dozen mechanical engineers. A few months before, I was scoring paper at an airy luxury atelier in Paris.

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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.