For the socially-conscious, investing can be a tricky proposition. The same people who wish to vote with their wallets may find that their options for investment funds and 401K plans are rife with companies that violate causes they believe in. So far, there have been few options in the marketplace that give consumers the opportunity to put their money in financial products that not only cut out environmental and social offenders, but actually contribute to the well-being of the environment and society.

Dave Fanger, a financial professional, was determined to design a solution. He approached IDEO to help create a startup venture for socially-conscious investors. Pacific Life, a Fortune 500 financial services company and Fanger’s employer at the time, offered the resources to develop and launch the idea. The online impact investment platform gave consumers the opportunity to invest in high-growth industries that are addressing global, environmental, and social challenges. Swell rigorously screened companies for both impact and performance, so consumers could be confident that their investments were in line with their values.

A holistic approach

Embedded as core team members, IDEO designers worked alongside Swell’s founder to shape the company. In just one year, they went from an initial concept and prototype to an SEC-registered investment adviser with a fully developed business model, a digital platform with initial investors, and well-defined branding that set the look and feel of the values-driven company. The IDEO team helped to hire the initial team of employees, working to ensure that the fintech startup would have the creative talent it needed to operate post-launch, as well as a defined culture that would help it grow.

A new investment platform

From the outset, it was important for the team to build an innovative, digitally-fluent, and customer-centered platform to make it easy for investors to back causes they care about. Working in close collaboration with software development partner Carbon Five, Swell and IDEO committed to act nimbly, take risks, move fast, and ditch decks for prototypes. Understanding the motivations of the investor—their values and what drives their investment decisions—was key, so the team leveraged IDEO’s network to form a consumer council, which helped to quickly iterate and refine prototypes throughout the duration of the product development process. Having that core group involved every step of the way made it easy for the team to keep consumers at the center of the design and validate key decisions quickly.

Swell offered consumers portfolios of companies that work to solve some of today's biggest challenges. The six impact portfolios offered were: green tech, renewable energy, zero waste, clean water, healthy living, and disease eradication.

As of June 2019, Swell had attracted over 15,000 investors⁠—more than half under the age of 34⁠—and $35 million AUM. Nearly 40 percent of investors were making investments on a recurring basis.

Learning to code isn’t just about knowing symbols and syntax—it can help unlock kids’ imagination by inspiring them to build new things and interact with everyday objects through discovery and play.

With that in mind, Google Creative Lab came to IDEO to help with user experience and product design on their new coding tool for children. The result of the collaboration, Project Bloks, is a simple and interactive experience that teaches kids how to code using physical blocks. This establishes a new paradigm for learning computer science: it takes a language typically only understood through screens and keyboards, and makes it tangible.

Project Bloks was also designed as an open hardware platform, enabling developers and educators to build tangible programming applications that are innovative, educational and fun.

Kid-centered design

From the very beginning, how kids physically play and learn were at the center of the project. Designers quickly iterated using sketches, foam core, paper, Play-Doh, and 3D-printed models to see how slight changes informed children’s experiences. Understanding what deepened kids’ engagement, increased their curiosity and changed their behaviors drove the language, taxonomy, architecture, and physical form of Bloks.

Because play and physical building is an important way in which many kids develop skills, designers began with a set of blocks and sought to help them discover coding through tangible objects. Each block was given a specific function and shape, guiding kids to arrange, combine, and rearrange the blocks to create commands and control things like robots or speakers in the real world. Children could also create block patterns together by physically building on each other’s ideas.

An inside look at the design process. Video by Google.

Designing for early learners also forced the team to rethink how a new language could be taught. An early version of the blocks was based on how programmers typically code, from top to bottom. However, the team quickly realized that the orientation had to be driven by the child’s natural instincts. Given young children are just learning to read from left to right, designers observed that the switch in directions was too confusing and changed the arrangement of Bloks commands to go left-right in addition to top-bottom.

The final outcome of Project Bloks was an interactive coding kit comprised of three key parts - pucks, baseboards and a brainboard. The puck is a critical component that controls a command, whether it’s an on/off switch or the ability to move in a particular direction. It’s the piece that enables children to move from words to the world of graphics and play. The puck is easy to produce and can take an unlimited range of forms and functions, enabling the Bloks system to scale.

The baseboard reads the puck’s instruction and is activated when a puck is placed on top. The brainboard provides the power and connectivity. When hooked up to a baseboard or a chain of baseboards, the brainboard sends the instructions—turn left, jump, get louder—to a connected object, like a rocket or a speaker.

The boards can be rearranged, sequenced, and packaged however kids like, opening up a vast realm of possibilities. Children can code anything from a toy robot drawing a shape on a piece of paper, to a sensor turning on a fan when the temperature gets too high.

Enabling innovation for education

Beyond a tangible coding kit, what makes Bloks unique is that it’s an open platform. Educators, developers, and designers can build on it to accelerate new ways of teaching and exploring tangible programming. The platform can fit into various curriculums around the world. The pucks can take on different shapes and graphics. The material used can be fabricated by 3D printing.

The Bloks platform is a new vernacular that allows kids to interact with the language of code in a way that’s less prescriptive and more open-form, like a sandbox. And the more kids play with Bloks, the more opportunities they discover for what they can create with a little bit of code.

For students who are the first in their families to pursue higher education, navigating college can often feel like navigating a foreign country. Challenges like not having enough money or poor access to support services can make graduating an insurmountable hurdle. In fact, only 55% of these students in the United States end up completing their degrees.

To help change this statistic, IDEO partnered with Beyond 12, an organization that provides personalized, virtual coaching to first-generation college students to help them learn how to register for classes, apply for financial aid, and much more. The challenge was to scale Beyond 12’s successful coaching model using technology in order to benefit as many students as possible.

In 2014, IDEO designed the MyCoach app, with the goal of helping students take ownership of their education and feel in control of their future. After the early version of the app was named as a finalist in the prestigious Robin Hood Foundation College Success Prize, Beyond 12 piloted the product with 3,500 college students across the US. Following the pilot, Beyond 12 and IDEO went back to work, using the resulting insights and data to design the next evolution of MyCoach.

First and foremost, IDEO sought to develop a more flexible model for Beyond 12 to enable scalability of the offering. As some students need more support than others, a blended business model was envisioned to recognize the spectrum of students’ needs. Engaging in-app content forms a supportive layer that helps students get organized, stay on track, and learn the skills they need to stay in college, while students who need more hands-on assistance can connect directly with coaches. An invisible data layer works behind the scenes to assess student risk and dynamically tailor student support throughout the school year.

Once the app’s model was solidified, creating a user experience that compels students to use it became essential to its efficacy. Growing up with technology has reshaped how many students engage with the world, and tools like Snapchat have set a new dynamic for participation. Youth today are the masters of their own digital worlds, fluidly jumping between conversations, engaging with stimulating content and contributing their own perspectives. As a result, MyCoach needed to speak students’ language and to create content that was authentically youthful and effective in order to be effective. By drawing inspiration from popular social sites, digital experiences and games, the team designed a user experience that keeps pace with a digitally native state of mind.

IDEO Designer, Isabela Sá explains the approach that led to MyCoach’s design and content strategy, “We created an app that makes no distinction between content and utility. We borrowed the content-first approach of social apps like Snapchat and Instagram and used it to teach students the skills and strategies they need to graduate. With that, the digital experience became more human. The intricate system that we had designed to power the whole thing was hidden below the surface. For students, the app was just the means to learn how to help themselves and get in touch with a coach when they needed one.”

Development is underway for the next version of MyCoach, which will allow Beyond 12 to scale its offering to reach exponentially more students in need.

Coca-Cola is one of the world's most iconic brands. More than 5,000 people work at its global headquarters in Atlanta.

Back in 2010, Coca-Cola found itself at a major crossroads. As the company grew, it became clear that in order to stay competitive, any kind of campus renovation would have to take into account a vision of the future of how people work at Coca-Cola. Before the company hired architects, they came to IDEO to help design this important part of their 2020 vision strategy; ultimately the redesign would change the way the company works, plays, and profits.

Imagery courtesy of Coca-Cola, Gensler, and IDEO

In business, new models and offers are further constrained by the need to satisfy current stakeholders and follow market trends. So how can you break free of present-day realities to envision a genuinely novel future?

In other words: Design can move us beyond the imagination-traps of our own experience to uncover truly new possibilities.

When I founded IDEO’s CoLab four years ago, one of our goals was to find new ways to catalyze visionary business leaders and to activate new models by assembling diverse perspectives from across industries. We frequently employ design fiction exercises with our partners to open up more exploratory approaches to tough problems—particularly the ever-changing nature and role of technology. The process helps connect the dots between an aspirational vision of the future and a business approach that can make that vision a reality.

How to apply design fiction to your business

The futures that we imagine are based on a few catalytic data or trends—“inevitables”—that serve as foundational elements of a future vision. By anchoring on these inevitable factors, we can then imagine the implications that ripple across a business, industry, or society. For example, five or 10 years ago, one might have assumed that smartphone ubiquity was inevitable and started to imagine the implications (good and bad) of everyone in the world having access to a super computer, the internet, a camera, and more. By extending from what’s already true to what might soon be true, it becomes possible to exert some agency in the way you move forward, even when you can’t know exactly what’s ahead.

The late Bill Moggridge (an IDEO founder who came up with the concept of a folding laptop) referred to this as “preferred futures.” In this view, rather than viewing the future as something that happens to you and can’t be controlled, you adopt the mindset that you can influence what happens, asking, “What future do we want to create? And how do we reverse engineer the pathway to get there?”

It sounds pretty heady—perhaps something to be left to experts—but the process of creating design fiction is actually accessible to most people by following a four-step process. This exercise is inspired by an activity from a class at UC Berkeley’s Haas School of Business called “Designing the Future” that I taught alongside two IDEO business designers, Becca Carroll and Sandeep Pahuja.

1. Pick an industry and describe its role in the consumer’s life

Let’s take insurance as an example. Insurance is a safety net for when something bad happens. But insurance customers don’t simply want protection—they also want to understand and manage risk, find the most agreeable policy to ensure support when they need it, and trust that their claims will be processed and paid. These criteria are often referred to as the “jobs to be done”—in short, they are the things the consumer has “hired” the product to do.

2. Write a story about the future, free from today’s constraints

If you focus on the “jobs to be done” (and don't get caught thinking about existing insurance companies and how they operate), you can begin to imagine new ways to do those jobs for customers with the help of new technologies and other shifts (behavioral, regulatory, etc.) we believe will be relevant in the future.

For example, if we take the job of understanding risk, there’s a story to be told about machine learning and the explosion of sensor data, which will allow us to create more sophisticated risk models. More sophisticated risk models could lead to a more personalized approach to assessing risk and ultimately the ability to provide more relevant products to customers. In this future, perhaps insurance companies shift from being the safety net after something happens to proactive behavior change coaches who help protect you before something happens.

When writing a story about the future, we continually ask, “What future do we want to create?” This helps us focus on the ultimate goal of creating value for people and preventing harmful consequences, not just creating new technical capabilities and hoping for the best. In this case, we answer it by imagining how the experience of insurance might take on an entirely new form and function when enabled by the tools of the near future.

3. Back out to the assumptions that would make this future real

Taking this vision of the future as possible, we can work backwards to uncover the assumptions need to be in place to support it coming to be. Our go-to provocation is inspired by Roger Martin and Jennifer Riel: What would have to be true to make this future a reality?

Asking what has to be true is a powerful tool to help you optimistically articulate the key assumptions implied by your story and connect them to your current offers and potential path forward. It’s easy to come up with a long list of reasons why something won’t work, and this often leads to risk aversion and incremental thinking. By surfacing the criteria for success you can pragmatically assess how realistic these assumptions are and design experiments or milestones to demonstrate if you’re on track. Invite your colleagues to get imaginative alongside you and uncover even more ideas.

Elon Musk famously published his master plan (and then a second) for Tesla that stepped through five key assumptions that would allow Tesla to move the automotive industry towards an electric future. These included making electric vehicles high performance and cool—a shift from the pervasive negative view of EVs’ aesthetics and functionality; and changing the notion that these cars are too expensive for average consumers, riding the scale/cost curve to reduce the price and range of vehicles, and making them more accessible to the mass market.

4. Prototype

So now you know what would have to be true. Are those things possible? Rather than speculate and debate, prototyping is your way to find out. Begin with scrappy, low-fidelity prototypes to test your assumptions and continually iterate forward, incorporating your learnings into higher-fidelity prototypes. Getting really clear on these key assumptions enables you to take an evidence-based approach to making investment decisions in risky innovation projects.

As quickly as possible, you’ll want to test your assumptions in the market. This is another sticky point where risk aversion and desire to jump to scale can grind progress to a halt. Designing in-market experiments that are right-sized and laser focused on testing key assumptions is an organizational skill that is difficult to cultivate. Successful startups often are forced to be quite scrappy in the market and increasingly, larger companies are building these capabilities. The founders of Airbnb famously tested their idea out by renting out air mattresses in their apartment during a conference. Established companies are getting into the act too, LEGO, Coca-Cola and General Electric have all market tested new products on crowdfunding site Indiegogo.

It’s unlikely that there’s only one viable solution to get to any preferred future—there are many avenues that may get you there and thus it’s important to diversify and have a number of bets. Many entrepreneurs will tell you that their current business is not exactly like their original business idea. Often, it’s pretty far from it. That’s because the steps required to go from idea to reality involve a lot of prototyping, experimentation, and openness to change along the way. Whether you work in the field of innovation, you’re an entrepreneur with a startup, or you have an idea for a business that you’re ready to explore, using the principles of design fiction and cross-organizational collaboration can help.

Hear more on design fiction and cross-organizational collaboration in this episode of IDEO U's Creative Confidence podcast.

Illustration by Mark Conlan.

There’s no such thing as a truly original idea, or so the saying goes. Even the most imaginative inventors and artists are limited by the boundaries of their own experience, and every fresh idea is derivative of something that came before.

In the 70s and 80s, Cey’s earliest work was exhibited next to Jean-Michel Basquiat and Keith Haring; later, as the founding creative director of Def Jam Recordings, he developed the visual identities for the Beastie Boys, LL Cool J, and more. Recently, you may have also seen his collaboration with Pabst Blue Ribbon and Levi’s. He may not admit it—he's too humble—but Cey has definitively shaped hip-hop culture, design, and beyond.

When I met Cey through a mutual friend, I was immediately taken by his uniquely bold style and refreshingly humble spirit. I asked him if he’d work on a creative project at the IDEO New York office. After the completion of Revolution Solution, we sat down to talk about his creative journey, why he left and then returned to New York, and what it means to be, as he says, “an artist without a blueprint.”

Diana: Let’s start with how you got into hip-hop, working with Russell Simmons and Def Jam.

Cey: When I met Russell in the early 80s, the term hip-hop wasn’t even coined yet—it was just rap music. A photographer had given me Russell’s business card, and I went down to his office to show him my portfolio. All I had were photos of car washes and commercial walls I had painted. But he said, “Okay, we can find something for you to do.” There wasn’t a long-term contract, but to me it might as well have been one. I’m laughing now, but the best thing about being young is that you don’t know enough to feel empowered. You just know they’re not saying “no.”

Did your graffiti art influence your hip-hop design?

To me the responsibility was always how to transform a language everyone was familiar with into something else. You see graffiti on the subway, scrawled on the walls, but I knew it was bigger than that. My question was how to elevate graffiti and keep its integrity.

Was there a breakthrough moment when someone said, “Now I see the power of what you’re creating”?

You know what? I never really heard that. At the time, nobody had formal training so it wasn’t like they understood the power of graphic design. It wasn’t until LL Cool J’s record Mama Said Knock You Out hit number one that I felt that recognition. The album cover was a beautiful black and white photograph of LL shot by famed photographer Michel Comte, and that was when everyone finally saw it as art.

What are you most proud of from that chapter in your creative life?

I think about the artists more than the creative pieces. It’s a little embarrassing to say, but sometimes I’ll dream that it’s 1987 again and we’re on the Together Forever Tour with Run-D.M.C and the Beastie Boys. We’re reliving everything as adults, and we’re all so much more appreciative. Then I wake up and realize it’s just a dream, and Adam Yauch is gone and Jam Master Jay is gone, but I realize I was actually there. During that time I learned about the power I had that I didn’t even know I had.

You went on to art direct the book Hip-Hop: A Cultural Odyssey, which captures the essence of the hip-hop era. What came next?

That book is synonymous with hip-hop itself. The fact that the publishers were convinced to make a book so huge is wonderful! The design of that book was completely my vision, I got to experience every creative idea I’ve ever wanted in that book.

Around 9/11, I realized none of this stuff mattered in the same way anymore. I got disillusioned with the business and the misogyny. I knew I couldn’t change how everyone thought, but I could take myself out of the equation. By that time, I’d designed as many albums as I needed to and wanted to try something else.

After spending a few years in Hollywood doing film titles, I moved back to New York to get my hands dirty. I missed making things so I began painting again and learned silk screening. After I made a few pieces, Adidas commissioned me, Shepard Fairey, and a handful of others to make original works for a clothing collection celebrating the life of Muhammad Ali. Working with Adidas was my first major corporate partnership. That got me thinking, maybe partnering with major brands isn’t the worst thing in the world.

At the time, I was also teaching art to high school students at Brooklyn Academy of Music. Over a ten-week course, I had to create dozens of lesson plans. I came up with every possible creative scenario to challenge their notion of what art could and should be. I stumbled into working with collage then.

That was a small start of something big. Tell us more about your work with collage.

For one of my lessons, I cut out a giant letter and had each student pick a color and fill in a small area of collage. The letter was broken up so nobody knew what it spelled. At the end of the project, we’d have a family sharing moment and present the final piece. The students would line up holding letters that spelled “FREEDOM” or “JUSTICE.” It was such a powerful way to communicate. I realized that collage combined what I learned as a graffiti artist with my love for letterforms.

This makes me reflect on a conversation we had at the beginning of our collaboration when you decided to create the number “25” for the IDEO NY mural. We had lots of discussions around bravery and creativity. At one point, you quietly offered that “maybe it’s not about a word.” Tell us why letters and numbers are so important to you.

There’s a simplicity working with letters and numbers. They break down barriers. The process of making collage is so involved that I don’t want the design to get too busy. Letters and numbers let the design be bold and simple, but the execution is always complex.

Speaking of murals, can you tell us about the One Nation mural you created for the new National Museum of African American History and Culture?

When I was invited to make a piece for the ribbon-cutting ceremony with President Obama, I said yes immediately. The whole thing was surreal. Just the existence of the museum was something I’d been waiting a lifetime for. The only guidance they gave me was to make a piece of art that the community could contribute to. A collage was the perfect vehicle to do that. People could contribute to creating a piece that was bigger than themselves. That’s the beauty of collage.

Trusted Brands came next, which brought together your graffiti work and your graphic design work. What inspired the series?

As a kid in the 60s and 70s, I loved seeing huge graphics like the 76 logo whizzing by on the highway—Trusted Brands was an homage to the symbols of that period in my life. As I was working with collage, I started wondering what the next thing was going to be. After doing letters and numbers, I wanted to do a project that nodded to my favorite brands.

Just recently, I partnered with Pabst Blue Ribbon to reimagine their signature 12oz can and launch National Mural Day. Like Trusted Brands, I wanted to pay tribute to the brand’s history and iconography.

Looking back on all of these chapters, is there a specific approach or ritual in your creative process that is the “Cey Adams secret”?

I always try to make work that is positive and uplifting. Even if it’s all black, I’m thinking about how to make something that will make someone feel good.

While you were creating the IDEO NY mural, we had three and a half months of your lovely presence in our studio. What was it like to be with us at IDEO?

One of the coolest things was creating in the lobby. I thought I’d be in a project space, but being in a community space that you can’t control was the best thing I could've done. Had I done it another way, I might've reached the same results visually, but I wouldn’t have had the same experience interacting with people in the moment.

I have such an appreciation that an organization like IDEO exists because it’s so nurturing to creative talent. Even at the age that I am now, I crave it so much! Not that I need to be patted on the back everyday, but it’s refreshing, that feeling of love and support is foreign to me.

A peek into Cey Adams' creative process. Video produced by Ian Gittler.

You might not have realized it in the moment, but you’ve seen Cey Adams’s art—on album covers, gallery walls, and the streets of New York City.

In the ensuing years, I heard countless personal stories about the damage that bullies and backstabbers inflict, and how to deal with them. I’ve also been tracking the growing pile of academic research on all things asshole.

Until now, I resisted the polite but persistent pressure from readers, friends, and publishers to do another book on what I'd learned as “the asshole guy.” But it’s clear that now, more than ever, there is a need for just such a book.

Here are 3 surprising lessons for how to escape, endure, outwit, and ultimately understand assholes:

1. Own it. When somebody feels as if others are treating them with disdain and disrespect, human biases are such that they are often unlikely to see and accept their role in provoking their tormentor—or are so thin-skinned that they don’t really have a tormentor. If you are in a situation where you believe that someone is treating you like dirt, because of these biases, you should be slow to label others as assholes—and quick to label yourself as one.
2. Be realistic. If you are in a situation where the alleged asshole treats everyone like dirt, well, then, it probably isn’t your fault. But if they are nasty to just you, the chances you are doing something to piss them off are high.
3. Be empathetic. Finally, the more empathy you can develop for the person who is leaving you feeling demeaned and disrespected, the better you will understand your role in provoking the bad behavior (and what to do about it).

This brings me to a lovely and instructive story by Barry Katz, the first IDEO Fellow appointed back in the 1990s. (I was the second.) Barry is a marvelous writer, with a deep understanding of the history of technology and design. As part of the launch for The Asshole Survival Guide, Barry told me one of the most compelling stories I’ve heard about how to engage in asshole survival when you just might be part of the problem. The story, along with Barry’s commentary, illustrates the lessons above perfectly, and more. It's beautifully told, so I've reproduced it as he wrote it to me:

“Many years ago, I connived to spend several months in Paris. Every morning, I walked down the three flights of stairs from my apartment, crossed the street to the neighborhood boulangerie, and waited patiently in line to buy a croissant for breakfast. The lady behind the counter chirped and gossiped and flirted with all the locals in the queue, but when I got to the counter her face transmogrified into a scowl. I didn’t like it, but I wrote it off as proof of the fabled Parisian disdain for tourists.

“Until one day, in a fit of ethnographic curiosity, I decided to conduct an experiment. Inspired by my reading of Clifford Geertz, I registered a thick description of every detail of the behaviors of the French people in line and resolved to mimic them perfectly. The guy in front of me picked his nose, so I picked my nose. The lady in front of him absently folded and unfolded her newspaper, so I dutifully folded and unfolded mine. As I neared the counter, I noticed that when it came time to pay, each of the citoyens placed a banknote in a little plastic tray and pushed it forward; then the baker placed the change in the tray and pushed it back to the customer. By contrast, day after day, week after week, I had innocently thrust a dirty ten-franc note into her face.

“On D-Day, I approached the counter and her face tightened into its usual scowl. She braced herself as I took out my money, but instead of handing it to her, I placed it delicately in the plastic tray and pushed it forward. She burst out laughing and we lived happily ever after.”

Isn’t that a beautiful thing? Barry nailed the upshot in the postscript he wrote me:

“Moral of the story: Unfairly, perhaps, Madame took my failure to observe local protocol as a sign not of ignorance, but of deliberate defiance. I insulted her, and dammit if she wasn’t going to insult me right back. Who is the asshole here?”

My answer is that both Barry and Madame were locked in a vicious circle of asshole poisoning, because each lacked the other’s perspective. But Barry, being the wise person he is, tackled the problem by thinking and acting like an anthropologist. In doing so, he demonstrated the three lessons offered above.

1. He realized that his biases might blind him to his contribution to the “asshole problem.” Then he reflected that he could be part of the problem—that he could unwittingly be provoking the lady behind the counter.

2. Madame was nasty to only Barry, which strengthened his suspicion that he was doing something to upset her, and it wasn’t just because he was an ugly American.

3. Once Barry developed empathy for Madame's perspective, he discovered what he was doing to upset her, changed his behavior, and their relationship was repaired.

It’s lovely example of human-centered design. And it’s a great reminder that sometimes, we are the assholes.

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I’ve spent the past few years working on The Asshole Survival Guide, a sequel to another book about assholes I wrote a decade ago, which focused on how to build a civilized workplace.

What I can do, however, is teach you how to design your own way to greatness—greatness that, at the end of the night, will have grown adults licking the bowl clean.

I spend my days at IDEO U immersing myself in design thinking. I also spend them eating, cooking, and thinking about good food. What I’ve learned is that design thinking is not something you keep in a tidy, 60-minute-meeting-shaped box. Design thinking is actually a set of tools you can use constantly, and the more you practice it in the unique moments of your life—like whipping something up in the kitchen—the easier it will become to apply it to the hairiest problems at work.

So let’s get cracking. Here are six ways to hone your design thinking skills in service of a mind-blowing dinner.

1. Celebrate constraints

Constraints are a designer’s best friend. They keep you on track and help you make decisions. Without them, everything is a possibility, and you may find yourself paralyzed by how to proceed. Constraints also have the ability to engender brilliant solutions, because they force you to think outside the box. In brainstorms, we purposefully provoke creative thinking by asking questions like, What if we had zero dollars to pull this off? Or what if the laws of physics didn’t apply?

Step one in planning your menu: Figure out your constraints. What’s in your fridge? What cuisine or region are you cooking from? What’s in season? How much time do you have?

2. Keep your audience front and center

Who are we designing for? This is the question we, as designers, must ground ourselves in always. What do they need, what do they love, and what brings out the best in them?

On dinner party duty, I consider my audience to be both the eaters and the ingredients. Is your hot date going to be attending? Ditch the garlic for sauteed shallots so you don’t scare them away. Is it the middle of a beautiful tomato season? Let your fruit shine with a smidge of good olive oil and flaky salt. Are you looking to transform that boring chicken breast you just found in the freezer? You’re going to need something punchy, vibrant, and bold to jazz that puppy up.

When in doubt, bring it back to your audience. What will best serve those that you’re designing for? That’s your north star. Come back to it often.

3. Design for delight

Consider the last product, service, experience, restaurant, or healthcare appointment you couldn’t stop raving about—the one you likely described in too much detail to your best friend, your boss, and your bodega guy. What is the feeling you have when you think about it?

Most likely, it’s delight. Delight is that particular combination of feeling cared for and feeling surprised. Like someone knew you so well that they were able to create something you didn’t even know you needed. We design for delight because it helps us build more meaningful, more emotional relationships with our users, all based on joy. It’s not just, "What are the needs of your user?" It's, "How might you fulfill those needs in a way that truly delights them?"

Sauce is delightful. It feels fancy. It feels extra. It makes your people feel like you went above and beyond for them, because you care. In terms of investing your time, energy, and dirty dish count, sauce delivers exponentially.

4. Test, test, test—and by that, I mean taste, taste, taste

Recipes exist for a reason—they’re great tools for learning. But you can’t follow a recipe blindly, praying for a miracle. After all, who developed that recipe anyway? You don’t know their lives. Maybe they’re one of those people who hates cilantro.

When you’re cooking, put what you’re tasting before what the recipe calls for. Taste your way toward what you like, continuously asking, "What’s missing? What does this need? What’s working here?"

In the design world, one common pitfall of trying to bring new ideas into the world is an over-reliance on recipes. People analyze every detail and possible consequence first, to mitigate risk.

From there, I’ve seen one of two things happen: Either you never get started because you get mired in the complexity of the plan, or you create a rigorous and unyielding plan that is based on a core set of assumptions about the future that hasn’t actually been tested yet. That's when the plan fails spectacularly.

At IDEO U, we’ve learned to de-risk the future not by planning meticulously, but by testing as early as we can, then continuing to prototype throughout the process.

5. Know your levers

Samin Nosrat of Netflix series and cookbook fame taught me the power of the four key levers of cooking: salt, fat, acid, and heat. Playing with these not only helps me course-correct when things go south, but also elevates a dish to master level.

When we design, we can’t just look myopically at the product, service, or experience we are creating. In order to make it sustainable, we have to zoom out and understand the system that it sits in, then pinpoint the levers we can use to create change. What are the critical variables we do (or do not) have control over? Price? Timeframe? Quantity? And how might we ask different, creative questions to uncover other levers?

6. Be okay with failure

It can be easy to get stuck iterating on something that’s not working. Maybe it just needs a bit more salt—or more sweetness? Or more crunch? It’s hard to admit, but at some point, you have to stop tweaking. Sometimes the best thing is to start over. And that’s okay. Throw it out and move on with your life.

If we learn to accept failure, we can take a big step back, get some perspective, and tackle the problem from a new angle. Maybe our grounding assumption—about the user needs, the context, the delivery mechanism—was totally wrong. If we can accept and even rejoice in that knowledge, our next prototypes are going to be miles better.

As an instructional designer, I love building tools. A good tool is based on the belief that you, the person wielding the tool, not I, the creator of the tool, have the magic.

It’s also the reason I don’t give people recipes. I want to help them have the confidence to improvise, to take risks, and to delight in both the successes and failures along the way.

So I built a tool for making sauce—a map to help you navigate those critical decision points along the way to your dream dining extravaganza. No stove, fancy utensils, or measuring cups necessary. Just some design thinking and your very own taste buds.

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At least once a week I get a text, email, or phone call asking, “Do you remember that sauce you made? Can you send me the recipe?” My answer, to the person's initial despair, is always no.

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.